Catalonia Is Not Spain

I had a lot of fun while reading this article appeared at The Harvard Crimson, specially the last part, here you have it:

Catalán, Anyone?

Spain is far from melting the pot

Published On Friday, August 04, 2006 12:21 AM
By STEVEN A. MCDONALD

BARCELONA—Before leaving for Spain, I brushed up on my Spanish by reviewing the nuances of idiomatic expressions and practicing my accent, hoping for a shot at being mistaken for a local, or at least, a Spanish speaker. My preparation however, fell far short of my goal. To fool the locals here would require learning an entirely different language—Catalán.

At first there was no problem: The hospital staff with whom I worked always spoke Castellan—Iberian Spanish—and the patients would in turn respond in Castellan. Everyone accommodated and willingly put aside their Catalán when I was within earshot. While my American accent did not convince anyone that I was a local and my occasional lapse of grammar or vocabulary made my origin even more obvious, I could still understand and be understood. That is until I had Catalán to contend with.

After two weeks, I worked with a different doctor. The first patient entered and fifteen minutes of Catalán conversation ensued. Afterward, I politely asked the doctor if he would please speak Castellan since I have not learned any Catalán. “That is your own disability” he replied. Weeks later, in a meeting, everyone obligingly spoke Castellan until one doctor accidentally lapsed into Catalán. When asked to return to Castellan, he replied: “You’re not in Spain. You’re in Catalonia.”

I discovered the views of these particular doctors were not unique in Barcelona. Within my first week, the ubiquitous graffiti and even official state propaganda made the Catalán position clear as day. “Catalunya mereix mes” (Catalonia is worth more), “Els Cataláns no sorn espanyols” (The Cataláns are not Spanish), and “Catalunya is not Spain!” are common messages to see scribbled on walls, benches, or emblazoned on buses traveling throughout the city.

The contention between the two languages actually peaked just after my arrival. Within minutes after stepping off the plane large posters, some saying “Sí” and other saying “No” were difficult to ignore. I figured that the Spanish government was not offering a Spanish language crash course to foreigners, but if not that, then what could these signs refer to?

The answer came a day later in Spanish newspapers. The headlines all shared one word: “L’estatut.” After asking some people at work and a friend in a contemporary Spanish government class, I learned how the Si’s and No’s related to this statute. “L’estatut” determines Catalonia’s level of autonomy—who controls the taxes, the languages spoken and taught in school, immigration into the region, and its relationship with Spain, among other issues.

The “Sí” posters encouraged voters to vote yes to “L’estatut,” giving Catalonia, and thus Barcelona, its capital, more autonomy and control over how Spain’s policies affect the region. The “No” posters were the propaganda of a liberal extremist party, which seeks nothing short of secession. They believe Catalonia deserves more than “L’estatut” permits, and backing instead an all-or-nothing policy, they wanted to turn it down.

June 18th, the day of the referendum, saw an overwhelming “Sí” to the proposal. Just like the last vote on the statute, this one will most likely jettison Catalonia into a future even more divorced from the rest of Spain, culturally and otherwise. The newfound Catalonian autonomy eliminates classes taught in Castellan. All classes in public institutions, from elementary school through college, will be conducted in Catalán. Castellan, the national language will be treated as a foreign language and given one period a day, just like English. Catalonia, one of the richest provinces in Spain, will actually give less tax money to the rest of Spain. Additionally, Catalonia will gain more control over immigration into the region from outside Spain. Reforms upon reforms are leading the region down the path toward independence. And Catalonia’s inhabitants already have a sense of deeply rooted nationalism, despite not being an independent state.

One night here, I escaped Catalán in a local bar filled half with foreigners and half with locals. I sought to get away from the ubiquitous language, and actually work on my Spanish. Upon finding a non-Catalán at the bar I immediately began to air my woes: All I wanted was to speak Spanish for a day, to read a newspaper in Spanish, to actually embrace Spanish culture without confronting Catalonian pride.

He quickly replied: “The Cataláns are weak” and then lectured me on how a region truly achieves independence. He was an extremist reporter from the Basque Country, which he declared to be its own country, though Madrid would say otherwise. I sighed. I might have been able to escape Catalán, but Spain was a step ahead of me with its four distinct languages. It is simply impossible to tell who is a “Spaniard” and who is not, revealing their whole modus operandi for integration was wrong from the outset.

Well, what are the odds that an US citizen obsessed with downplaying the Catalan national identity and dream of self-determination will run into a Basque?

The message is clear Catalunya IS NOT Spain, nor Euskal Herria, nor Galiza, nor the Canary Islands.

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Day One: Durango's Rain

As I was saying, last night when we finally arrived in Durango it was raining. Not storming or nothing like that, just that constant light rain that drenches everything.

But that was not going to stop Juan from showing me the church of Santa María at night, because it is really worth it to see it let me tell you.

One of the main reasons for a member of the Basque diaspora to wish to visit Durango is that although everyone knows about the bombing of Gernika by the Nazi Luftwaffe, it was Durango the first city targeted by Francisco Franco in his effort to destroy the recently created Republic of Euskadi.

This is how the town's website describe the event:

During the dictatorship of Primo of Rivera, the actual dictator came to Durango and opened the food market. On 31st March 1937, during the Spanish civil war (1936-1939), Durango suffered an undiscriminating and systematic bombing against the civilian population. Such an event had never happened in any part of the world before this time. More than 500 people died in the bombing and the occurrences the following days.

The church called Santa María sustained heavy damage the day of the attack, many of the victims tried to find refuge in its interior not knowing just how powerful the bombs used against them were.

Hence, the importance of visiting the city to pay a silent hommage.

Also, I would like to point out to something that Wikipedia mentions about Durango:

Durango is a historic city, home of conquistadors like Francisco de Ibarra, and as a result there are more Durangos in America named after the Basque original one, not least of which is a state in Mexico called Durango, the principal city of which is called Durango.

Now, you have to excuse me, I need to be in Bilbo in an hour.

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Day One: Bilbo at Night

And so it is that the "Ongi Etorri" bilboard sign told me that I was entering Araba. I was then able to soak in the Basque landscape. The flight delay was a nuisance, yes, but at least my entrance to Euskal Herria was quite improved thanks to the sunset I got to enjoy.

The sun light was almost gone when a sign on the side of the road told me that I was now in Bizkaia. It wouldn't be too long before the bus made its entrance into the urban sprawl known as Bilbo. Once at the bus station I was so excited to be there that I forgot to retrieve the piece of luggage I checked in when I got in the bus in Madrid.

Anyway, I made a phone call to try to locate Juan who volunteered to pick me up in Bilbo, and then I realized my mistake. As soon as I was done with the call I went back to the bay were my bus was parked, and there he was, the bus driver, not knowing what to do because his office was closed. So, we were both happy I noticed my backpack's absence.

Then, when I took a seat to wait for Juan I noticed I had forgotten to retreive my phone card from the pay phone I used to call his house.

Oh well.

Anyway, so Juan got there and he decided to show me the night life in Bilbo's old quarters, known as Zazpi Kaleak, the seven streets. I finally got to engage in the famous Basque tradition called txikiteo, which is quite simple, you do not stay for a long time at the same bar, you actually have one drink and then you move on to the next one, what in the USA is known as bar-hoping.

Around 1:00 am all places started to shut down, so we went back to the car in order to get to Durango, Juan's town.

When we arrived here, it was raining.

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Day One: Cancun - Madrid

Every trip has a departure point, which in this case is Cancun, in the Mexican state of Quintana Roo. A reknown touristic destination and the possible reason why you can find cheap flights between America and Europe. Now, when I arrived to the airport I was informed that my flight was slightly delayed. Minutes went by and then hours, yes, it was delayed almost three hours, nice way to start a one month trip.

I finally got on the plane and when I saw the table with newspapers I must have had a startled look on my face because the flight attendant offered me a couple of options: El Páis or ABC. I kindly refused explaining to her that I would actually prefer to read the news. She gave me a look that told me that she agreed with me and that was it for the newspapers. Besides, I had a book with me which I chose for the long hours on board of the plane, Cartas a Elizabeth by Antonio Velasco Piña.

Since it was past 10:00pm when we took off I waited for dinner to be served and then, since I was all by myself (there was no one seating next to me) I simply proceeded to get as comfortable as I could to be able to endure the flight to Madrid.

It was around 7:00 am my time when we arrived to the Barajas airport, then I had to wait in line for little over an hour to go through immigration. I finally got to the bus stop outside the airport since I needed to go to the bus station at a place everyone called "Las Américas". I finally got there and I was lucky enough to find a ticket for a bus that would depart for Bilbo (Bilbao) in just twenty minutes.

I tried to enjoy the view during the road trip from Madrid to Bilbo, but it is so arid and boring that I fell asleep until we got to Lerma, a city right next to a river by the name Arlanza.

I liked what I could see of the town from the bus stop and I snapped a couple of pictures. I grabbed a bite and a coke and then we continued on our way. I fell asleep again but somehow I managed to open my eyes right when a big sign on the side of the road said "Ongi Etorri".

Finally, I was in Euskal Herria, the Basque Country.

And here I am.

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New at Buber's

I'm glad to see that Blas Uberuaga added a link to this blog from his well known Buber's Basque Page.

This is what he says:

Basque Blogs: David Cox sent me a couple of blogs dealing with politics in the Basque Country. He notes that, after the seeming closure of Berria's English site, it is hard to get Basque-related news in English (though, EITB24 is one good source). The two blogs are Irish Solidarity Committees with the Basque Country and Euskal Blog : Ingeleraz. Thanks David!

Eskerrik asko to David from me too.

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Basques: Peace and Cuisine

This is quite an unique article by the Los Angeles Times.

The mix just about everything that comes up in a Google search for Basques, for a moment I thought they were going to inclue the sassy lingerie item too.

Here it is:

Basques Try Recipe for Peace

As ETA ends its battle with Spain, hope brews in a land winning fame for a unique cuisine.

By Tracy Wilkinson, Times Staff Writer
July 30, 2006

SAN SEBASTIAN, Spain — Chef Martin Berasategui inhales the aroma from a stewing pot of squab and beef marrow. Around him, his kitchen is in a whir. One assistant dips a ladle into large tubs of creme fraiche. Another uses a tiny ruler to cut pieces of melon just so. Still another is stirring 40 gallons of monkfish.

The telephone is ringing constantly, coffee machines are grinding, steam is rising from a dozen cooktops.

These are promising moments here in the Basque Country, a hot, Michelin-starred epicurean frontier where palates are as adventuresome as politics are contentious. After nearly four decades of armed conflict between Basque separatists and the Spanish government, the region is closer to lasting peace than at any time in its history.

Western Europe's last war is, it seems, over.

And that is good news for Berasategui and others who crave normality, not to mention a renewed influx of intrepid Spanish tourists and foreign visitors to this region of northern Spain, where they might sample the dishes, such as caramelized smoked eel or squid in pepper foam, that make Basque cooking legendary.

The Basque Country was always an incongruous place for revolution. Its gently rolling hills, quaint fishing villages and spectacular sea views belie deep-seated political and ethnic anger. It is one of Spain's most prosperous areas, a place of unique gourmet cuisine, but one where the intelligentsia need bodyguards, where bombs go off at universities, and where outlawed rebel partisans give news conferences in fashionable hotels.

These days, however, people have started giving their bodyguards days off. Checking under the car for explosives is no longer a necessary habit.

Most important, the separatist group ETA has not killed anyone in three years. ETA, whose decades-long campaign of bombings, assassinations and terrorism claimed more than 800 lives, declared a permanent cease-fire nearly six months ago, and the government in Madrid is now willing to talk with it.

Berasategui, a stocky man dressed in chef's whites, yearns for a peace that is not as ephemeral as his red cabbage gelatin with liquefied chard.

"Let's hope there is no turning back," he said at the three-star restaurant that bears his name, tucked into the green hills outside San Sebastian. "This is like a tasting menu, and everyone has to do his share of the cooking."

Berasategui's reservations come from bitter experience. He and three other of the Basque region's world-renowned chefs were dragged through one of the more unsavory chapters of the conflict: the extortion of thousands of local businesspeople, allegedly by ETA members.

Law enforcement authorities contend that long after the killing ceased, demands for and payments of protection money continued. A new criminal inquiry recently led to the arrests of major Basque politicians and entrepreneurs.

Berasategui and the other chefs were questioned in late 2004 by judicial officials in Madrid about whether they had paid ETA to leave their restaurants alone. Spanish authorities maintain that extortion was ETA's most lucrative source of income, along with kidnappings. Up to a billion dollars may have been collected over the years, used to finance attacks, support fugitives and aid prisoners.

Berasategui vehemently denies the charge, saying he never paid protection money, nor did anyone ever demand it of him.

The Madrid authorities "simply went after famous people from the Basque Country," Berasategui said dismissively. "They questioned me because I was born here. It was very unjust." No charges were filed against the chefs, and the whole episode might have been put aside if the new case had not reopened old wounds.

Berasategui says the authorities are making a mistake by dredging up such cases. "We are a land that has suffered a lot," he said. "There were victims on both sides. No one is free of sin."

His unease goes straight to the kinds of questions that vex a postwar society — what should be forgotten, what should be exposed? Where does justice end and revenge begin? What is the best way to ensure peace and promote reconciliation?

Many Basques are far more forgiving than the authorities in Madrid, saying outsiders cannot understand the things people here had to do to survive through the decades of conflict.

Negotiations between ETA and the Socialist government of Prime Minister Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero will focus initially on disarming the guerrillas and on the conditions of ETA prisoners in Spanish jails. ETA, which stands for Euskadi Ta Askatasuna in the Basque language, or Basque Homeland and Freedom, has long complained bitterly about the Spanish government's policy of dispersing prisoners to jails around the country, far from their hometowns and families.

Next, the parties will have to decide whether, and how, to dig into a full plate of fundamental issues, any one of which could scupper the entire process. These include determining the political role of ETA sympathizers and overcoming mistrust.

A bigger task will be envisioning the structure of a Basque state. How much self-determination should be granted? How much loyalty to Madrid should be demanded?

There are numerous reasons for ETA's decision to quit armed conflict now. The separatist movement, launched during the harsh years of the Franco dictatorship, when regional and ethnic differences were brutally repressed, now faces a modern, vibrant Spain that is a full member of international organizations such as NATO and the European Union, and allows considerable regional autonomy.

People were exhausted by the warfare, ETA was not making political gains and the new government in Madrid was flexible enough to negotiate. Furthermore, the guerrillas were seriously weakened by police crackdowns under the previous conservative government that had the cooperation of France, a traditional refuge of ETA forces.

And perhaps most important, on March 11, 2004, deadly attacks on Madrid's train system by Islamic militants left 191 people dead, ending much tolerance for armed struggle.

The attacks "put them in front of a mirror and showed them what violence can provoke," said Paul Rios, general coordinator of Lokarri, a civil rights organization active in the Basque region. "It made them open their eyes."

The Basques are considered the oldest community in Europe, a people of somewhat mysterious origin who fiercely guard their traditions, and, among some, a kind of ethnic purity. Verdant hills are dotted with remote stone farmhouses. In the cities, insular neighborhoods fly the red-and-green Basque flag, and the cluckety sound of the unique Basque language, Euskera, drifts from homes and cafes.

But after decades of conflict, the Basque Country is divided, with viewpoints including pro- and anti-nationalism and total pacifism. Some of its 2.5 million residents identify themselves as Basque first, Spanish second — or vice versa. Or one wholly and not the other.

Increasingly, however, a hard-edged pragmatism is taking hold. Basques enjoy a good amount of autonomy; they have their own police force, teach Euskera in schools and are allowed to levy taxes.

"We identify ourselves as Basques," said Txema Montero, a nationalist attorney in Bilbao who once served as an advisor to ETA but broke with the group over its insistence on violence. "But we also want to be part of Europe."

---

On the March afternoon that ETA declared its truce, Ignacio Latierro, a writer and book dealer, asked the authorities whether he could finally shed his bodyguards. "They told me, not yet — just in case," he recalled.

A veteran activist, Latierro runs the popular Lagun Bookstore here in San Sebastian and has long fought what he describes as the tyrannies of the Franco dictatorship and ETA terrorism. The former landed him in prison in the 1960s and 70s. And he blames the latter for repeated vandalism of his bookstore, an attack on his business partner's husband and the slaying of a longtime associate, Jose Luis Lopez de Lacalle, an outspoken newspaper columnist.

And that's why two armed men accompany Latierro on his way to and from work and as he makes his rounds in this city on the Bay of Biscay. For all the trouble, however, Latierro, 63, with wavy silver hair, is hopeful that the war may finally be over.

"Objectively speaking, we are living in a different season," he said at his bookstore, under the shadow of San Sebastian's Good Shepherd Cathedral. "But I still do not dare to be categorical. Even among those most convinced that we are at a historic moment, there is a reservoir of bitterness."

And among youths who grew up on revolution and on the dream of achieving an independent homeland through armed struggle, integration into a peaceful society will be especially problematic. Older generations of fighters underwent political and military training, but younger ones have learned only how to use guns and bombs, accentuating their potential to become even more radical, analysts say.

"It is one thing to paralyze the violence and another thing to change the mentality and the culture," said Jose Manuel Mata, dean of social sciences at the University of the Basque Country near Bilbao, a school that has lost a dozen or so professors fleeing violence in recent years. Near Mata's office is an elevator where a bomb failed to detonate a few years ago, one of a number of incidents that led to police protection for the dean.

Pro-ETA youths "are used to acting as though pressure on the street counts above all institutions," Mata said. "This is a serious problem of socialization that cannot change overnight."

Few Basques are holding out much hope for reconciliation among opponents, the differences too great and the proximity too intimate. In this relatively small corner of the world, people know one another, and they remember the slights and injustices. They remember who was killed where and when.

That intimacy served as a kind of social control and helped prevent all-out civil war, Montero, the Bilbao attorney, said. But deep memories also impede reconciliation.

Still, changes are brewing.

The tough bars in San Sebastian's Old Quarter, where money is being openly raised for ETA, still display pictures of prisoners. But they are friendlier places, on a recent evening full of families and crowds who shared drinks and watched a World Cup soccer semifinals match.

At his restaurant, Berasategui and his staff are preparing for a bumper year. Authorities say tourism is up substantially since the truce was announced, and there are plans to expand San Sebastian's tiny airport.

Berasategui is placing a couple of new items on his menu: a grilled foie gras and a dessert of coffee ice cream with whiskey ice.

"In the Basque Country, before we learn to walk, we learn to cook," he said, with a rare smile.

"We are a country with spark, living historic moments. If all sides would just leave us alone."

*

(INFOBOX BELOW)

A long war

After a nearly 40-year battle with the Spanish government that took the lives of more than 800 people, the Basque separatist group ETA has declared a permanent cease-fire.

Who are the Basques?

* Basques are an ancient ethnic group in Spain and France.

* The majority, about 2.5 million, live in Spain.

* Most are Roman Catholic.

* Basques were traditionally fishermen, farmers and shepherds, but industrialization has altered their way of life.

* A referendum in 1979 established the Basque autonomous region, with its own police force and education and healthcare systems.


--

Sources: Encyclopedia Britannica, BBC, CBC

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About the Tree Carvings

This is an article about recent information regarding the tree carvings by Basque sheepherders.

It was published by The New York Times, here it is:

Early Herder's Life, as Seen Through Art Carved in Trees

By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS

Published: July 30, 2006

FEATHERVILLE, Idaho, July 29 (AP) — For decades, anthropologists have combed the red rock landscape of the Southwest for petroglyphs, the prehistoric scrawlings of American Indians. Now researchers in the Northwest are beginning to discover a trove of arborglyphs: 19th- and 20th-century tree carvings tattooed on the bark of aspens and cedars by Basque sheepherders.

Some are rousing political slogans from the Basque homeland, and others depict sexual exploits. Like modern graffiti, a great many carvings note for posterity that Joe, Jose or, most likely, Joxe “was here.”

Scholars say the drawings provide a blueprint for Basque immigration patterns across the Western United States and give a look into the psyche of the solitary sheepherder.

“These give us insight into a group that largely did not leave behind a written word,” said John Bieter, the executive director of the Cenarrusa Center for Basque Studies at Boise State University.

Basques hail from a semiautonomous region joining the Pyrenees of northern Spain and a slice of coastal territory in southern France. Their culture and language are of mysterious origins, but Basques are believed to be some of the oldest inhabitants of Europe.

After the California Gold Rush in the 1850’s, Basques who had already emigrated to South America followed the ore’s elusive path across the West in what historians call a “secondary migration.”

Basques quickly branched out to sheepherding. Tree etchings soon began appearing in the alpine hollows of California, then Nevada, Idaho, Wyoming and other Western states.

For more than a century, the nomadic routine of corralling sheep in the sagebrush lowlands of the Great Basin in winter and trekking the animals through the mountains by summer was a Basque rite of passage.

Throughout the forest, the legacies of men like Julio Ramon are etched into bark. In an undated inscription from the Crosscut Trail aspen grove in the Boise National Forest, Ramon trumpets a patriotic cheer into the empty wilderness: “Gora ETA.”

Roughly “Long Live ETA,” it was the rallying cry of the armed Basque separatist group. It is most common in engravings from a second wave of sheepherders who probably lived in Spain under the Nationalist dictator Francisco Franco, Dr. Bieter said.

“He could carve it into a tree in Idaho,” Dr. Bieter said, “but if he said it in Spain, he’d be imprisoned.”

Susie Osgood, a Forest Service archaeologist, said the aspen’s 80-year lifespan made it an ideal canvas for preserving the early Basque legacy. Ms. Osgood said she had identified about 300 with Basque carvings.

“It’s a realistic window into what you think and do out here when you’re all alone,” she said of the carvings. “Now, the herders have headsets and things, but in the 19th century you were your own entertainment.”

Basque sheepherders livened the hours by drawing, and many tree carvings are crude sketches. But often dotting the scribblings are finer artistic expressions.

Joxe Mallea-Olaetxe, the author of “Speaking Through the Aspens: Basque Tree Carvings in California and Nevada,” has documented portraits of churches and battleships, as well as the lonely bachelor’s doodling mainstay: naked women.

Some carvings reveal the dormant angst harbored by many Basques against the herder’s lowly social standing. A few poetic verses on an Idaho aspen declare, in a loose translation: “Together, but not neighbors. Brothers, but not family. In Spain, they consider us great men, but here we are nothing.”

Today, the Basque herder has largely been replaced by Peruvian or Chilean immigrants. Later generations of Basques — like Dr. Bieter’s brother, David H. Bieter, the mayor of Boise — have planted roots in cities across the West.

But Kurt Caswell, who has written several magazine articles on modern sheepherders near McCall, Idaho, said the practice of inscribing trees continued.

“One of the things that fascinates me is how little has changed,” Mr. Caswell said. “What it brings home to me is a universal story of immigration, that early generations really occupy a very lonely existence.”

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Bring Them Home

Family members of ETA prisoners hold a protest along the N-1 highway demanding the transfer of their relatives to jails closer to the Basque Country, near Beasain, northern Spain, July 29, 2006. Spain's government announced last week that some benefits to around 500 ETA prisoners will be applied as a conciliatory gesture in response to a ceasefire called by the armed group last March, El Mundo newspaper said. Banners read in Basque 'Bring the Basque prisoners home' and 'Total amnesty now' (top). REUTERS/Pablo Sanchez

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The Basques from La Puente

Here you have an article about a piece of Americana with a splash of Basque.

It was published by Whittier Daily News:

Basque-ing in a Little Bit of La Puente History

By Christina L. Esparza Staff Writer

LA PUENTE - A tableful of men inside Le Chalet Basque nosh by candlelight on carrots and celery, drink wine and sprinkle their conversation with Basque - a language unrelated to any other.

They are members of the Southern California Basque Club, and on a hot, sticky Thursday afternoon, they discussed upcoming plans to attend the 60th anniversary celebration of the club's creation.

"You're going to have a great time," one man bellowed with a hard, rolling 'r' to a pair of ladies sitting at a table in the back of the restaurant.

The club's roots, like those of so many Basque Americans, are in the city of La Puente.

The Basque country of the western Pyrenees - Euskal Herria in Basque - is seven provinces straddling Spain and France.

And at its founding in 1885, La Puente and its sheep- friendly pastureland was the perfect home for the Basque. They, like so many European immigrants, made their way to the United States with a vast agriculture knowledge, according to "French and Spanish Basque in the La Puente Area," a book researched and written by students at La Puente High School in 1983.

The city's rolling green hills and sweeping open spaces made it possible for the Basque herders to move their sheep without impediment, according to the book.

"They came here, initially, as sheep herders, farmers, among other things," said Patricia McIntosh, president of the La Puente Historical Society. "This was definitely a good pasture."

Cecilia Wictor, a member of the Historical Society and great-great-granddaughter of John Rowland, one of the city's founders, said she remembers as a child watching flocks of sheep clip-clopping up and down Hill and Main streets. She recalls going with a neighbor to take lunch to a Basque shepherd in the hills.

"It was such a thrill," Wictor said.

News of the city's pastures and the need for farmhands spread through Basque country, and more families descended on the Land of Opportunity.

"In those days, there used to be a lot of dairies," said Laurent Arretche, president of the Southern California Basque Club.

Soon, the Basque became a fixture in the city.

"They acclimated very well, so their success brought other people," McIntosh said.

In 1929, a handball court was built near where Le Chalet Basque at 119 Second St. stands to accommodate the growing immigrant population.

Handball - "pelota" in Basque - is the country's national sport, according to the book.

"This place here, you had a place where everybody finds somewhere to play handball, socialize, and that stayed 'til today," said Louis Fernane, vice president of the club.

The Basque community in La Puente, however, is not as large as it once was, said Danielle Arretche, owner of Le Chalet Basque.

"The City of Industry used to be more agricultural and everybody had to move out of here," she said. "They keep moving. ... Agriculture is the main activity of the Basque people."

But, McIntosh and Wictor said their legacy still lives in the city, with the handball club, the restaurant and a history of hard-working people that helped build it.

"Their work ethic was enormous," Wictor said.

christina.esparza@sgvn.com

(626) 962-8811, Ext. 2472

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Lokarri's Report

EITb published a note about a report created by Lokarri.

Here it is:

Lokarri sends international community report on Basque conflict

Peace process

07/28/2006

The citizen network for agreement and consultation Lokarri, an organization working for a solution of the Basque conflict, sent Friday to some of the most important organizations and governments in the world a report on the Basque conflict.

Titled "Key to understanding the ETA's permanent ceasefire", the document goes over the situation in the Basque Country after the announcement of a permanent cease-fire by the armed Basque group ETA and seeks the involvement of some governments and associations worldwide in the solution to the Basque conflict.

The document concludes that social movements in the Basque Country have voiced the deep needs of the Basque people for peace and have proven a catalyst for the transformation of the conflict—from a position of intransigence on the part of the Spanish government and the ETA to a strong will for resolution of the conflict on all sides.

This is the link to their website:

Lokarri

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