Andalucia: when it rains, the fish will appear 34, negroes with make up

Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie


'It is heading towards autumn again and the days are getting shorter', I said.'I have seen the first advertisments for Christmas again. An entertaining Santa Claus who calls on us to buy your gifts in time on the telly.' We discussed this during 'comentario'. You sit down with a couple of Spanish friends and you drink something and in the meantime you watch the news on TV, which in every Spanish pub brings the misery of the world to your feet, hour after hour and you pass comments

"They're here early this year with their Christmas presents story," Celema thought, and we chuckled, because the advertising had only been about commerce. "How is that in your country," my neighbor asked and I paused and then sighed deeply. "Yes," I replied, "about the same  but the focus is more on the feast of St Nicholas." There are many people nowadays in Northern Europe who also celebrate Christmas and buy gifts , all of the world is getting to be Americanized. Some have 'the nice family evening of st Nicholas, which is celebrated the 5th of December', and then redo it it around  Christmas under the tree with more gifts and a nice meal. It has all gone terribly commercial.

I recited, "oranges .... plums on the trees .. it is the time of Sinterklaas". I translated it and explained: it is a traditional celebration, we let the children believe that the good holy man and his servants bring presents to the children. "Oh, my neighbor smiled," a bit like three kings with us. " "Very much so," I agreed. And what I just translated about  the oranges, of course, refers to oranges that have always come from Spain. " Everyone nodded and Pedro said "it is too cold in the North for citrus fruits, I know that because I have worked in Germany for some time"

"It was a time indication of the time of year in the song," I explained. "A nice traditional celebration, although in the past the gifts were not as big and less expensive." "The celeration is getting to be less fun," I resumed the thread. It is starting to get a political twist and the discussions are only about whether or not the servants of the Saint can be  Black. "

"They used to be black, right" Juan wanted to know? "Yes," I replied, "as far as I know, carbon black, as a child I have never seen other assistants but black Peters.'


"His servants were dark in the past and that is why the people who play the servants are painted black." "Logical," Celema thought, "that sounds historically correct." That's what it is, "I agreed," but the "do gooders," of Dutch society want to be even more tolerant than tolerant and want to excel in political correctness, lobbies have started, hate campaigns on public media, political parties that join in to win votes and that divide a nation that celebrates a century old tradition. Nonsense discussions, about rainbow Petes in all sorts of colors, except for black of course,and the eternal discussion about slavery. '

"That is indeed ridiculous," Pedro thought, "there have never been rainbow people, have there?"

"It goes deep, very deep" I explained, "there are many colored Dutch people who feel frustrated about their former slavery, although they have never experienced it, they have heard about it and they still feel indignant about the former injustice their fore fathers were subjected to. They project that or it is now being projected on the Black Peter discussion. '

"What a country," said Juan, who took a firm sip from his barecha, the local drink that almost burns your entrails on the way down, "if we are going to begin like this ..." He looked at me deeply after the sip and once coughed firmly, I knew the feeling the drink almost burned your throat away. "Were the black Petes slaves then," he wanted to know? "On the contrary," I laughed, "they were just liberated slaves, redeemed by the good holy man." Well, "Celema thought," you come from a land of horrible do gooders. "

"It seems to me," he concluded, "that there are a lot of frustrated folk in your country." "Yes, it seems that way," I agreed, "racism is confused with traditions." Our dark fellow Dutch folk are angry when they see a black Pete, because he is a servant and that is usually a white person who is painted black.

They forget that it is precisely those black Petes who distribute candy to children and carry burlap bags with gifts over their backs for the children. So they greet the black Petes in the retinue of the Saint with joy and see nothing racist in it. They don't even know what that word means, it is indeed a manipulation poured over the traditional celebration by frustrated fellow dark countrymen.'


"That ought to do it," Pedro mingled in the conversation, and everyone listened because his opinions were usually well thought out.

"We have three kings," he began, "they were not all white, one was a bloody moro, as black as the night, they came from the East with gifts, they were not stupid idiots, they were three wise men, every single one of them. Every year one of our aldermen is blackend up and hands out sweets and presents on the square. Children like that. Balthazar was a moro and black, we don't make a rainbow Balthazar out of that. That would be ridiculous, just follow the Bible please, "he continued," just imagine the two wise men and the rainbow Balthazar, because otherwise the dark Spaniard would feel offended? "


He paused and then continued, "Every year we celebrate the feast of Christianos and Moros in Spain." The feast of the Christians against the moros. We replay the battles after which the moros were driven into the sea after they had dominated us for 800 years. Half the village is Moro and the other half is Christian. Entire village associations prepare for a year for these fake battles with costumes and all. The moros are painted black because they are the opponents and they will lose. They were black anyway, so in the absence of moros, we paint half the village black! There is nothing wrong with that.' He slammed his fist on the table. "We hadn't seen him like that often. "Calm down, Pedro," I said, "everyone here agrees."



 Europe is going to the dogs with this nonsense," he now shouted, "everyone can have opinions even if they do not make sense!" He had turned red. "That is why our forefathers were dominated by the moros, they had become a bunch of tolerant limp sacks that were  run over by the first moro they came across." Our table remained silent for a moment, then, after a deep sigh, Pedro continued, 'after that it cost us many Christian lives to drive the moros back into the sea, 800 years of fighting from village to village to regain our culture. "

As an old soldier, he saw history repeat itself and he felt helpless. "And now calm down, Pedro," I advised him, "it was actually about Santa Claus and Saint Nicholas, you are getting yourself riled up."


He took a sip and calmed down a bit. Celema looked at me with a meaningful look, like: "Pedro is back on his hobby horse." "If we allow him to do so," he finally said in an icy but controlled voice, "that moros may change our traditions because they deem it desirable, then you might as well keep selling our values and norms." "It was about Santa Clause and our Saint with his black Petes," I tried again.

"You," he said, from that awfully correct and tolerant country. "Yes," I answered questioningly. "Do you have trouble with Negroes painting themselves white?" "No," I said, "I am not interested in whether or not they are painted white or purple for any celebration."

"I thought it was strange that Michael Jackon was slowly turning white, but everyone will remember it , he simply betrayed his roots. when you are black .. you are black .. no two ways about it."

"Look," Pedro said with a raised voice, "this once again shows Christian tolerance and where is that with the moros?" They just want to dominate. "


"Okay," said Juan, who did not like fierce discussions. "Enough about make-up negroes or make-up whites, what do you think of Cataluña with their separation party?" "Don't talk about Catalans," Pedro said, "with all respect for their mothers, they are big sons of whores."

"Right," said Celema, "I think it's time for another round."

San Daniel 2019


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06/09/2019 23:31

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