A couple of weeks ago, during a work trip to Washington, DC, I met up with a couple of the members of the DC Euskal Etxea. I’ve mentioned Mark Bieter a few times in the past, as he writes a very insightful blog about many things, including things Basque. Sam Zengotitabengoa (ok, I admit, I had to look that up) has been heavily involved in the DC club for a while. While I’ve chatted with them virtually, we’d never met, and I figured this was a good opportunity to meet a few more Basque-os.

Talking with these guys was a real treat. They both have strong interests in the Basque Country — the politics, the culture, the now of the Basque Country. For me, this is the heart of my own interest. I understand the importance of the things that are central to Basque-American culture, particularly the dancing, but the dancing and such holds little interest to me. My personal passion for things Basque was ignited when I went to live there. I went with the goal of learning Euskara, but during that year I discovered music beyond the accordion, both odd folk music such as txalaparta but also avant garde punk music that resonated more with me. I discovered rural villages where basseriak dotted the landscape and people lived off the land, but also thriving metropolises where anything and everything modern existed, including spectacular buildings, gorgeous beaches, and polluted rivers (big cities do have downsides…). I discovered a culture that was firmly rooted in tradition with an odd and ancient language celebrated through bertsos but also one that kept an eye on the future, invested heavily in cutting edge science and technology. It was this dynamic blend of tradition and progress that captured my imagination. This, for me, is the essence of the Basque experience.

So, it is always a great pleasure to meet others that share the same passion, the same perspectives on the Basque Country. Over maybe one or two too many beers, settled in a bar in a way that isn’t all that possible in the Basque Country (I do like both ways of enjoying fine beverages), we chatted about many things, including politics, identity, sports, and Basque culture in America. It was simply just nice to talk about Basque culture and the Basque Country with people who had a deep and personal investment in the Basque Country itself.

Eskerrik asko Mark and Sam. I look forward to future “meetings” in the pub.

As many of you already know, Pete Cenarrusa, a long time politician in Idaho (the longest serving elected official in state history) died on September 29. It didn’t take long after his death for his life to be questioned in the Spanish press, particularly as it related to an incident in 2002 when the Idaho legislature, at the behest of Pete and then representative Dave Bieter, passed a non-binding resolution that supported the Basque right to self-determination.

In response, a number of Basque bloggers around the world wrote a joint defense of Pete Cenarrusa. With their permission and encouragement, I repost that blog here.

Since the time of the original post, journalist Dan Popkey has written an article published in the Idaho Statesman regarding both the initiative to defend Pete as well as providing some clarifying details: Cenarrusa still stirs pot in Spain.

In Defense of Pete Cenarrusa: In Memorian (1917-2013)

Pete Cenarrusa died last week at age 95. To begin with, it’s strange to speak of “defending” Pete from anything. He was a wonderful person, somebody many of us admired and respected. His parents were immigrants who grew up in neighboring Basque towns but who met thousands of miles away in the middle of Idaho. Pete’s first language was Basque, and he kept speaking it for the rest of the life, sometimes throwing in English words along the way.

Pete went to the University of Idaho, where he was on the boxing team and completed degrees in agriculture and animal husbandry (at age 92, he blogged that his favorite courses were nutrition, organic chemistry, and bacteriology—“I would recommend these courses to everyone in college.”) He joined the Marines in 1942 and became an aviation instructor. He flew for 59 years, more than 15,000 hours of flight time without an accident.

Pete was elected as a Republican to the Idaho House of Representatives in 1950 and served nine terms, including three as House Speaker. In 1967, when Idaho’s secretary of state died, the governor appointed him to fill the position, where he served until 2003. He wasn’t a politician from central casting. As his friend and successor said at his funeral, Pete wasn’t a good public speaker; but unlike most politicians, Pete knew it. Still, it’s hard to argue with success: Pete never lost an election, and he was in public office for 52 years, the longest-serving elected official in Idaho history.

Then the Spanish national newspaper ABC published an “obituary” by Javier Ruperez, the former Spanish ambassador to the United States. Ruperez calls Pete a “Basque separatist,” a man filled with “blind obstinacy” against Spain “until the very day of his death.” It was a piece written with venom saved up from an event that happened more than a decade ago, spewed out just a couple days after Pete died. Pete can’t stand up for himself now. That’s why we feel a strong obligation to do so.

PETE CENARRUSA (1917-2013)

IDAHO RANCHER, BASQUE SEPARATIST

Deceased at 96, Cenarrusa – which was the way he had shortened his paternal surname Zenarruzabeita – had the leading role in Idaho’s political and social scene for almost six decades, being elected several times to the local legislature and carrying out for years the role of Secretary of State in the rustic territory. His parents emigrated from the Basque Country to the United States at the beginning of the 20th century, as many of their compatriots did in those days, in response to the call for sheepherders to run the significant number of livestock in the American West.

From early on, conscious of his Basque origins, he tried to promote individual and collective memories in the environment of his countrymen, an activity that took a noticeable nationalist tone in the 1960s. He wasn’t awarded the prize “Sabino Arana” to the “universal Basque” by the Basque Nationalist Party for nothing.

It was in 2002 when these nationalist inclinations took shape in the attempt to make the Idaho legislature adopt a memorial that ignored ETA’s terrorist activities, demanded a favorable disposition from Spain and France to negotiate “the end of the conflict,” and asked for the self-determination of the Basque Country. Cenarrusa was the inspirer and visible leader of the attempt, for which he had the support of Ibarreche’s Basque government and Batasuna’s contacts incarnated in journalists for “Gara” and “Egunkaria”, regular visitors of the land where they received the hospitality of then local legislator and now mayor of Boise, Idaho’s capital, David Bieter.

The government of Jose Maria Aznar warned George W. Bush’s White House about the maneuver, and made Idaho legislators realize the inconvenience of adopting texts which were offensive to a friend and allied country such as Spain. The spokesman for the Department of State made a strong statement during those days that said, among other things: “The Spanish people suffer the violence carried out by a terrorist organization called ETA on a regular basis.” Exactly what the memo Cenarrusa/Bieter/Ibarreche/ Gara/Egunkaria did not want to gather. And that to the dismay of its sponsors ended up written in the amended text, which was eventually approved by the Idaho legislature.

It was in January 2003 when Idaho’s Senate president had the opportunity to communicate to the representatives of the Spanish government his regret for what happened, blaming it on the extreme ignorance by local representatives about Spanish affairs and the generalized willingness to please Cenarrusa in the last initiative he took on before retiring from his role as Secretary of State. Robert L. Geddes had begged the veteran rancher and politician of Basque origins that “the next time he wanted to declare war on Spain he give him prior notice to avoid misunderstandings.” On that same occasion Idaho’s Senate made the Spanish ambassador in Washington honorary citizen of the State. And Spain officially named Adelia Garro Simplot, another Basque descendant, honorary consul in the area. Garro is the abbreviation of Garroguerricoechevarria. Cenarrusa, who had not thrown in the towel in his blind obstinacy against constitutional and democratic Spain until the very day of his death, wasn’t able to make himself the only representative of Idaho’s Basque community.

As Mark Twain would say, not all deaths are received in the same way.

And an important bit of background: Ruperez , the author, was kidnapped by the Basque terrorist group ETA in 1979. He was held for a month. After he was released, 26 Basque prisoners were freed from prison, and the Spanish parliament agreed to create a special commission to investigate charges of torture of Basque prisoners. We can’t imagine what Rupérez went through, and we wish it would never have happened. It would certainly shape one’s world view. But Pete had nothing to do with that horrible event, and we know he would have condemned it. And that’s where Rupérez is horribly wrong about Pete and about Basques generally.

Toward the end of his career, Pete announced the introduction of a declaration in the Idaho legislature that addressed a critical series of events in the Basque Country and Spain. The declaration, officially known as a “memorial,” called on leaders in the United States and Spain to undertake a peace process. In 2002, Ruperez caught wind of the memorial and immediately flew out to Idaho, alerted the Spanish prime minister, the State Department, and the White House. Suddenly, a declaration by the legislature of a small Western state blew up and became international news.

As the memorial got close to a vote, there was a lot of back and forth among the many parties that had suddenly become involved. But Pete’s reaction was pitch perfect—paraphrasing him: Since when did the United States start running its foreign policy by foreign governments? In the end, the Idaho legislature unanimously approved this memorial. It described the history of Basques in Idaho, the earlier actions by the Idaho legislature to condemn the repression of Franco’s dictatorship, the efforts of Basques to maintain their culture, and all “but a marginalized fraction” of Basques’ condemnation of violence.

Perfect or not, it was a unanimous statement by a democratically elected, autonomous state legislature. But it seems to have haunted Ruperez all these years. Barely 72 hours after Pete had died, Rupérez condemned Pete as “the inspirer and visible leader” of an effort that turned a blind eye at violence, an effort that an Idaho Senate leader later purportedly told him was the result of the “extreme ignorance by local representatives” about Spanish affairs and “the generalized willingness to please Cenarrusa in the last initiative he took on before retiring.” Rupérez suggests that Pete was not typical of Idaho’s Basque community, that there were others who are worthier representatives.

Ruperez closes with a quote he says comes from Mark Twain: “Not all deaths are received in the same way.” Maybe that’s true. Either way, we can assure Mr. Ruperez that Pete’s death was received with a great deal of sadness and with the respect worthy of somebody who had done great things with his life. We would like to conclude by using another quote from Mark Twain that clearly suits perfectly for people like Javier Rupérez: “Better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.”

Agur eta ohore, Pete.

Signed by:

• A Basque in Boise, in English, In Defense of Pete Cenarrusa: In Memorian (1917-2013)
• About Basque Country, in Spanish, En defensa de Pete Cenarrusa: In Memorian (declaración conjunta a la que te puedes unir)
• Basque Identity 2.0, in Basque, Pete Cenarrusaren defentsan. In Memorian (1917-2013)
• 8 Probintziak, in Frech, Pour la défense de Pete Cenarrusa: In Memorian (1917-2013)
• Bieter Blog, in English, In defense of Pete Cenarrusa
• Blog do Tsavkko – The Angry Brazilian, in Portuguese, Em defesa de Peter Cenarrusa. In Memorian (1917-2013)
• Nafar Herria, in Spanish, En defensa de Pete Cenarrusa: In Memorian (1917-2013)
• EuskoSare, in English, In Defense of Pete Cenarrusa: In Memorian (1917-2013)
• Buber’s Basque Page, in English, In Defense of Pete Cenarrusa: In Memorian (1917-2013)

Here are some recent stories I found particularly interesting.

In September, Elhuyar will publish the 300th issue of its science journal, Elhuyar Zientzia eta Teknologia. The journal was created in 1974 to promote the use of Basque in technical and scientific fields. More info here.

Elhuyar is an organization named after the Basque Elhuyar brothers, who in 1783 isolated the element tungsten for the first time.

The Basque cycling team, Euskadi-Euskaltel, was in danger of loosing its sponsor, Euskaltel, the Basque telecommunications company. You might recognize the bright orange jersey the Euskaltel riders wear. Fernando Alonso, a formula one race car driver (who is currently second in the F1 world championship race), has agreed to take over the team. Alonso is also a past winner of the F1 championships. His involvement provides some assurance that the Basque riding team will continue on. More info here.

If you are planning a trip to the Basque Country any time soon, these two articles might give some inspiration. First, Alice Short writes in the LA Times about her adventure in the food of the Basque Country, from the now famous Arzak to a few random and pleasant discoveries.  Then, Fiona Duncan describes her discovery of Biarritz, now a thriving surfing city, and the rest of the Côte Basque.

Dendrochronology is the study of the age of wood and is used to both identify the age and origin of wood, for example used to make boats. Dendrochronology has been used to identify the origins of a ship found in the bay of Newport, in the United Kingdom and it has been determined that the ship, indeed, had origins in the Basque Country. More info here.

My brother got married a couple of weeks ago (Zorionak Tony and Christmas!) and some of my dad’s family came over from Spain for the festivities, including my dad’s brother and sister, two sisters-in-law, and several nieces and nephews with their significant others. 13 in all, a large crew that made even the simplest of activities a challenge in coordination.

We started off with dinner at Louis’ Basque Corner in downtown Reno. We got there late as they had a long drive from San Francisco. So, we sat down and the courses started coming out — beans and chorizo, followed by salad, then lamb. By the time the lamb came out, they were starting to make noises about how much food it was, and we hadn’t even gotten to dessert yet…

…which takes me to an aside. Whenever I go to the Basque Country, every meal is a big event and each family wants to host one. For them, it is one big fancy meal hosting the American nephew/cousin, but for me it is a series of gorging fests and I literally put on 5-10 pounds after about a week. Plates and plates come out of the kitchen and I’m constantly told “come mas!” as I clean up all of the plates (ok, I enjoy the food, but the quantities are a little daunting)…

So now, the shoe is on the other foot, and they are being given American portions, which are typically bigger than other places, though in all, probably not any more than what I typically am fed in Euskadi. And they are complaining about too much food. The next few days continue the trend. We spend a few days in Tahoe where we made lunch and dinner. Cooking for 13 (and a few more) meant that much of the day was centered on preparing food and then eating. By the end of the day, they were wanting more time to do things and less time centered around food. Something I think all the time when I’m there.

One night, we went to a Japanese restaurant for dinner, one of those where the cook prepares the food right in front of you. He put some oil on the grill and lit it. A big fire ball flared up, and my uncle jumped back in his seat in surprise. But, even worse was when he asked where the bread is. I responded “no hay pan” and the look on his face couldn’t have been worse if I had just shot his favorite dog. He was truely horrified. Though, in the end, he did adapt (though I had to finish his dinner! Too much food again! I can’t count how many times I’ve been told, in Euskadi, to eat more and you won’t have to eat tomorrow).

Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and enjoyed spending these few days with them. My dad spent many hours playing Mus with his nephews and had a great time. And it was really nice getting to know my cousins and their significant others better. Being “confined” with them meant much more interaction than I normally get in Euskadi. But it was entertaining to see the shoe on the other foot and them getting a taste of their own medicine, so to speak. I’m not sure they really saw it that way, I guess we’ll see the next time I visit them in the old country!

Throughout the Basque Country, on cabinets, headstones, and books, one finds various designs that adorn pretty much everything. There is of course the ubiquitous lauburu, but there are also other figures, rosettas, that are very common.

The Enciclopedia Aunamendi has an article on “popular art” where they have an image of a number of rosettas from various sources. The image is a scan from a book, and the original image seemed to be hand-drawn, so was relatively rough. I’ve vectorized it to both clean up the images and make them perfectly scalable. Unfortunately, WordPress doesn’t like EPS files, so I can’t upload them here. Instead, a PNG file will have to do. If anyone would like the EPS file, just contact me and I’ll be happy to send it along.

A few weeks back, I flew up to Idaho to visit my parents. As I’ve written about before, my dad, once I left home for school (coincidence, or something more…?) started to make chorizo and jamon. He’d never done that before. Sure, he had his massive garden full of txurizeros (txuritxeros? That’s the way he says it…) He’d fry those suckers up whenever he got the chance. I’ll be honest, I hate those damn things. They taste nasty and they smell nasty. But, they are good for flavoring chorizo. And jamon. After the txorizeros, the most abundant crops are tomatoes and garlic. Mom and dad braid the garlic for friends, keeping some for flavoring the meat that will later become the chorizos.

Whenever I return home, dad breaks out the jamon and the chorizo. I make up in a few days the lack of Basque meat I’ve suffered over the previous six months. This trip was no exception. Dad had something like 20 jamones hanging from the rafters of his garage. While I was there, a buddy of his came by to pick up a couple so we spent the morning cutting and slicing (and eating more than a few of those slices) two 18 pound hams. Dad’s jamon has gained a reputation in the greater Treasure Valley. I’ve heard stories of Basque chefs claiming that dad’s ham is as good as anything in Spain (well, ok, minus those acorn-fed ones, but those are too damn expensive…)

I think every morning I had chorizo with fried eggs cooked in chorizo grease. That might sound a bit nasty, but I swear it is one of the best ways to eat eggs.

(Yeah, I know that is red txorizero juice my eggs are swimming in. But, dammit, you just can’t taste the txorizeros in the chorizo!)

I probably had chorizo 2-3 meals a day. It’s almost like visiting the Basque Country — I must have gained 5 pounds in 3 days. Mind you, I’m not complaining — the food was excellent and I certainly didn’t stop at just one (or two) chorizo. But, it is maybe a good thing that dad lives 1000 miles away, otherwise I think I’d be in the hospital having a stent put in to open my arteries enough to let the little bits of chorizo course through my body. Though, on second thought, maybe it would be worth it.