When I was little, I only needed to go to the balcony once it had stopped raining to perceive an intense scent of wet soil. But there is no soil any longer. They have asphalted it all, or “developed”, as the construction of blocks of concrete, cement and brick -in that order of importance- is now called.
Friday
Like in smaller towns, men sit at the very end of the church. The women scatter about in the reminder of the church – women have always outnumbered men in churches.
Thursday
In the church, the brothers of the brotherhood, and a sister – one single woman in the place of the privileged, there, next to the priest, to a side of the altar, as it is suitable for the most ever exemplary citizens. It is surely a coincidence that they are all owners of companies or councillors.
Wednesday
The most important celebration for the Christians begins this week. We have come to a town that, unbeknown to its inhabitants, is in the very deep heart of old Castilla, or Castille (the name means “land of castles”). I think I can find more soil, mud and grass in London that here, but people call this place is called town, or village, even though some ancient king gave it the title of city.
History
Apart from the dissertation I also have to write some feature articles for uni, usually on the subject of my own choice. It has been half my choice to write about squatting. So I have done a bit of research and I have learnt a lot of contemporary English History. Well, proper historians would probably contest my methods and argue that wars and battles and Kings’ and Queen’s marriages are more important than a squatting boom in the 70s, but if I want to learn about any kind of History, that is the one kind of History I want to learn about. And squatting has certainly a very long history, and many other things help to understand squatting, and squatting helps to understand many other things.
Mass Media
The main tutor at university today confirmed what Simone had mentioned in the forum: yes, there is the desire to put as many journalists in the market as possible. Just put them there, however good, however bad, the point is, there must be many.
Gaite
It is definitely not bad, the library at my university. I took a few books last Friday, and as I passed the foreign languages section I could not resist getting a classic. This time it was “El cuarto de atrás”, by Carmen Martín Gaite (a month ago it was “Si te dicen que caí”, by Juan Marsé).
Angel
When I first arrived in London, Angel was the first area where I lived – or, as I have heard from some old londoners, and read in “Oliver Twist”, by Dickens, “The Angel”. I actually stayed there for quite long, one and a half years, which is my current record in one address. I remember this big green that was surrounded by a high wall. Every time I returned from Chapel Market, I would see this graffiti on the wall:
Freelance
Simone, on the freelance email forum, has just noted that freelancing is “harder now as there are more journalists about. There weren’t that many post-degree courses/evening classes eight years ago”.
What does this say about the “dumbing down” of journalism? What about the pressure on existing journalists to produce what the market demands/the owner allows?
Ben
Another day I miss Ben*’s lesson. And the facts that I find his lessons absolutely useless and that they happen at 9 in the morning are not exactly an encouragement to attend them in the future… I agree that 9 in the morning does not sound outrageously early. But taking into account that the three bus journey takes me about two hours, I look at a waking-up hour of half past six. For some mysterious reason, my body has managed to switch the alarm clock off without allowing me to wake up for the past two weeks. Wonders of nature.
