Marquel, the NY Times Traveler through time and space correspondent, was shining his shoes when he read Catalan Secessionists, Despite Scotland Independence Loss, Continue Push to Leave Spain. The regional Parliament in Barcelona overwhelmingly backed an independence vote, which the government in Madrid says would be illegal. Marquel noted from the illustration that the Spaniards were wearing kilts and most were carrying bagpipes. This was a story worth following.He went down to the Spanish UN Mission and asked to speak to a Catalan.
“They have their own section,” said the guard and pointed to a corridor.
I went down the corridor, unmarked except for a toilet sign. Reaching the end of the hallway with no success, I backtracked past the toilet, where I heard the strains of “High Road To Linton“‘ Bagpipes! I went in and it was indeed the toilet but there were five men in kilts playing traditional Irish songs. A sign on the wall said “Catalan Legation.”
“Is this the Catalan Section?” I stupidly asked.
“Aye, señor,” said a short man.
“What’s with the bagpipes?” I asked.
“We just got back from a wee trip to Auld Reekie in Caledonia,” he said.
“What were you doing there?” I asked.
“Why laddie, we were votin’ ” he said.
“In Scotland? Aren’t you Catalan?” I asked.
“Aye laddie,” he answered, “you canna win independence if you don’t vote fer it.”
“But only in your own country,” I said.
“Nae, laddie, it takes practice.” He corrected me. “We wen’ up they to help out and they’ll come in down here to help us out.”
“I’m not sure that’s legal,” I opined.
“Oh sure, laddie,” he said, “the present situation is illegal. We’re not Spaniards, we’re Catalan. C’mon boys, let’s go!”
They broke off into a bagpipe rendition of Cielito Lindo. I had no choice but to wait. There was pounding coming from the floor above, loud Spanish voices shouting, “Silenzio!”
When silence returned, the beating on the floor stopped, and the bagpipes stopped bleating that unfamiliar melody, I asked, “you voted for a free Scotland, now the Scottish are going to come down here to vote for a free Catalan?”
“Aye, laddie, sí. We’re all in it together, like a wee bit o’potatoes.” He said.
“Huh?”I asked.
“Señor, we’ve been confused by our trip to Scotland, and missed a week of siestas. We are tired. But we want to be independent like Scotland.” He said.
“But they’re not! They lost.” I said.
“I admitted it was our fault. When they come here they will all vote for independence for us.” He said.
“If they make the difference do you think bagpipes will replace the guitar in Catalan?” I asked.
“It’s possible. Because of our help, the Scots are now wearing sombreros.” He said.
“So it’s possible if you vote here with their help for independence, maybe Scotland well become independent, or Catalan will, but it will be called Scotland and you’ll all have to talk funny and quaintly.” I offered.
“Well we have the bagpipes. And we’re getting better.” He asserted.
“I have the feeling that you guys don’t really know what you want. You don’t even know why you want it except for a few stock words like freedom and independence.”
“When I am alone and have had a bottle our two of Rioja, I really can’t figure it out. But we really like the Scots and they like us.”
“That doesn’t mean you both have to secede. I thought social progress was in the direction of more stable peoples, not breakaway regions. How will we ever have world peace if that’s going on?” I asked.
“Ah but we wouldn’t have our bagpipes or our kilts. The Scots are wearing our decorated tight pants. Laddie, this ae been the greatest days we ‘ad, I canna say. That’ll make yer world peace.”
The full ensemble was playing again. It was clearly their first time through. Some started a jig, kilts a flying, and I can’t tell you what you most want to know. I tend to shut my eyes when I try to shut my ears.
I walked down the hallway and the walls were pounding with complaints. As I left the building, I saw squad cars arrive. Someone called the cops.
Good luck with that, especially if they’re Irish cops. Laddies.
***
BY MARQUEL: Don Quixote the Catalan
perfect pitch
loved this: “Señor, we’ve been confused by our trip to Scotland, and missed a week of siestas. We are tired. But we want to be independent like Scotland.” He said.
you’re so marvelous Marquel. I loved this
“Ah but we wouldn’t have our bagpipes or our kilts. The Scots are wearing our decorated tight pants. Laddie, this ae been the greatest days we ‘ad, I canna say. That’ll make yer world peace.”
ditto
ditto2
I’ve been laughing for straight five minutes. I cannot go forward:
I went down the corridor, unmarked except for a toilet sign. Reaching the end of the hallway with no success, I backtracked past the toilet, where I heard the strains of “High Road To Linton”‘ Bagpipes! I went in and it was indeed the toilet but there were five men in kilts playing traditional Irish songs. A sign on the wall said “Catalan Legation.”
great comedic timing:
“Is this the Catalan Section?” I stupidly asked.
“Aye, señor,” said a short man.
“What’s with the bagpipes?” I asked.
“We just got back from a wee trip to the Emerald Isle,” he said.
“What were you doing there?” I asked.