Since I can remember, the land of my ancestors and its history has fascinated me. My grandmother and her many brothers and sisters never really discussed the time spent living under Franco’s right wing regime. It was difficult for me to understand why a set of 9 siblings with such interesting perspectives on politics and culture would be so quiet about their own pasts and histories. Until the age of 20, I never knew of my grandmother’s past. That all changed when I decided to study abroad in Spain during the 1999-2000 academic year. Spain is not a large country, however, there is enough territory to cover and such different landscapes and cultures that one would think they have crossed several international boundaries from Cataluna to Basque Country, Andalucia to Galicia, and so on. Fortunately for me, much of my grandmother’s family did not have the opportunity to leave Spain under Franco’s dictatorial rule, and rather, saw through the political repression until Franco’s days elapsed in the late 1980s. Because of my long lost family in Spain, I was able to visit the village where my grandmother was born and raised, a tiny town of about 200 population near the border with Portugal. The village was so quaint and traditional that when we arrived, the villagers came out of their homes to greet us, and welcome Josefa’s grandchildren (my brother and I even met one of my grandmother’s childhood playmates who candidly remembered my grandmother).
Spain is a truly fascinated country which such diversity and rich history and culture. During my year in Spain, I was able to catch up with all of my grandmother’s relatives who remained in Spain. They were all living in different regions, so I was able to spend time in Basque Country, Galicia, Andalucia, Castilla Leon, Salamanca, and Pamplona. I was eager to meet all of my long lost relatives who had never set foot in Argentine soil. They were much different than my Argentine family, but yet, exhibited the same warmth and wisdom as those that never experienced the long journey across the Atlantic stowed away in ships. One of the many things I learned about my grandmother’s family was that her father and uncles were socialists actively challenging Franco’s regime. According to my great uncle, who resides in Salamanca and has been a socialist mayor for a smaller town within the district, my great grandfather was on death row in Spain for organizing workers again Franco. The day came when he was to be executed and the guard responsible for opening his cell turned out to be his second cousin. My great grandfather was released and taken to a ship heading for Argentina, where he stowed away with half of his children and his wife, while the other 4 children stayed in Spain with his brothers. It is a unique and inspiring story and one that has much more depth than that which I can give justice to. I learned a great deal during my year in Spain, and I enjoyed a wonderful sense of familiarity and was able to get a glimpse of the difficult yet full life of those who came before me.
For a slideshow of photos from my year in Spain, click on the following link:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/macarena/sets/72057594056226548/show
