Evening Visitors

I love sitting out late in the warm evenings while the mountains slowly surround us with their shadow. I love to just sit taking in the sounds and the sights of the night.

Once the bee eaters have made their noisy departure, few sounds break the peace, apart from the cicadas in the pine trees that create their symphony that ebbs and flows with intensity through the night. Sometimes, I hear the  Scops owls making their ‘poo..poo..poo’ cry, so characteristic of a Mediterranean summer night. There is an occasional dog bark or the sound of the Derbyshire birds that greet each other across the valley with a friendly ‘Hey Up, Hey Up’. That’s right - peacocks.

 In Barranco de Quiles, There are no street lights to spoil the vista of the Milky Way or the constellations. A multitude of satellites track across the sky, and I enjoy the sighting of the International Space Station, that often crosses the valley in a matter of minutes, looking like a huge lantern. Nothing compares though to the thrill of seeing the shooting stars.

Every night of the summer the family of geckos comes to hunt the insects attracted by the dim wall light.

But tonight is a different night.

Around midnight, at the crown of the hill, dancing torchlights appear along the narrow road. Soon, I hear excited voices chattering and laughing in the darkness. The small group come down the dark lane, and disappears on round the bend. Then another group of people come along: then another: and another, and soon the barranco is filled with the sounds of people expecting a party! The fireworks that they light, erupt into the peace of the night - huge explosions! This is the Romería de Saliente!

These are the pilgrims heading off to the mountain top monastery and church at Saliente, which at 1501 meters is the highest mountain near us.

Each year, many 100's of people assemble in the bars of the surrounding towns and villages, discussing their strategies for the long nighttime walk, and taking the refreshment to help them achieve their goal!

Then they all converge on the beautiful 18^th century mountain top church, which has been declared a monument of artistic and historical importance to celebrate in honour of the 'Virgen of Saliente'. They are joined by many 1000's of other pilgrims who arrive by car, and then undertake a shorter pilgrimage up the steep path, to lay thick carpets of flowers all around the alter.

An incredible sight!

The season's changing

The sun hadn’t yet come over the mountain when I set off with the dogs for our morning walk. The air was a little nippy and I was glad that I have already got this winter’s supply of logs in. There were six and a half tonnes of cut olive logs delivered, that will fit straight into the central heating boiler without me having to spend hours toiling with chain saw and axe to make them fit. What a job it was to get them into the dry store. Fortunately, I was able to enlist the help of my mate Pape from the market who was glad of the work.

We went past the huerta where Esperanza grows her tomatoes, onions, beans and calabazas. I had seen her the other day in Oria and she had told me to help myself to any I wanted because she had all she needed.

Jose was out early too, directing the water flow from the acequia onto his small olive grove.

Soon we came upon Gregorio and Antonia collecting their almonds. They had spread nets under the tree and were beating the branches with long poles to bring down the nuts.

Millie will have to hurry if she wants to get her share of the almonds 

because soon the big almond grapping tractor which can strip a tree in thirty seconds will be visiting the nearby fields.

Then just before we returned to the casa we came across  Antonio collecting the ripe purple figs. I must remember to collect some of mine today, so that I can get them drying with the tomatoes in the still hot late summer sun.

Pape Sec

I had the early shift with the dogs today, and I was so glad I did.  The pink and white almond blossom both scented and tinted the land, and the sun’s red ball slowly rose from the Mediterranean, but I ended this walk feeling so really angry and guilty too!

My phone had rung as I was nearly back at the casa. It was Pape Sec, my very good Senegalese market trader friend. He was distraught. He was about to set off this morning, to go to market, when he discovered that his battered old van had been broken into, and that his entire stock of handbags had been stolen.

Let me tell you a little about Pape. He’s been in Spain for about 5 years now. He arrived from Senegal on a flight from Dacca to Madrid, and entered the country on a legal visa, which had cost him and his family, what was for them a fortune. They had saved for several years, to raise this. The investment in Pape, was an investment for all the family. Prospects for him to earn any kind of income in Senegal were so poor that the sacrifice of not seeing his family – his mother, wife and two young children for several years (5 years so far) was worth it. The legal visa provided for only one visit. A few of his friends, who arrived here several years ago, now have all the necessary paperwork, and are able to travel back to Senegal by car, and then legally return. When they do, Pape is able to send his family all kinds of small gifts – soap, hand cream, candles, paper and pencils not readily available or affordable there. He has also been able to send money, sometimes 10 Euros, sometimes 20 Euros that have really helped the quality of life of his immediate family, and repay the debt of the visa.

Pape’s dream is that one day he will be able to legally return to Senegal, to see his wife, children and ageing mother. His brother died about 6 months ago. A return to the funeral wasn’t an option! He does accept though that the best he can hope for in life is to be a migrant worker, living far from home, seeing his family just occasionally, but at least able to provide them with a life above subsistence level.

To become legal in Spain, Pape has to fulfil several criteria. He has to be able to prove he has lived here for 3 years. He has to show that he has significant funds in the bank. He also has to show that he is making contributions to the Spanish National Insurance system, either as a self employed person (305 Euros per month and not many traders of any nationality can afford to pay this) or by being an employee of a company. Unemployment in Spain since ‘El Crisis’ (the international financial meltdown), is running well above 20%, so there is virtually no chance of gaining employment other than by occasional ‘unofficial’ agricultural labour. Apparently, it is possible to purchase a ‘contracto’ – paperwork from an ‘employer’ to show that national insurance contributions are being paid by them – but many of these are simply schemes to rip off poor and desperate people.

So in reality, it seems Pape must struggle on. He lives in a flat only intended for two people, but ‘hot bedding’ with 5 others! He must hope that the world wide recession will come to an end soon so that he can get any kind of a wage paying job, or that he can maybe sell just a few more handbags each week for 12 Euros – that he paid 5 Euros for – after travelling 2hours each way to the wholesaler in Elche, at a cost of 40 Euros of diesel – to purchase them! 

And so I feel guilty that my life is relatively uncomplicated. By and large I can afford the ‘necessities’ of life and then some! If I need to return to see family in the UK, I can be there next day – if not sooner.  However, my mate Pape lives on the edge of economic and emotional survival. He strives under the most difficult circumstances to do his best for the family who he has not seen for years, and has little prospect of doing so soon, so that they can have a marginally better life.

And then some ‘low life’ steals his means of survival from him. The handbags they took represent Pape’s very struggling business. Even at the good markets Pape sells very few or even no bags these days, because local people, understandably, are hanging onto their money. The ‘low life’ is probably struggling to survive just like Pape – but that doesn’t stop getting me so angry, that they would harm someone so vulnerable.