Vlaams?

Om aan te vangen, vandaag is het 21 Juli, de nationale belgische feestdag, dus ik hoop dat alle Belgen, vlamingen of walen dit #tousensemble vieren.

Met veel genoegen heb ik tijdens de afgelopen Mondiale gekeken naar de matchen van de Rode Duivels, mijn voormalige zuiderburen. Het was wel een malheur dat ze net niet de finale gehaald hebben, ze waren er gans dichtbij, maar het team heeft wel het verdeelde land fier gemaakt en da is goed voor België en wellicht ook voor het vlaamse vocabulaire.

Mijn dorp in Gelderland, ligt veel dichter bij Duitsland (minder dan 25 KM) dan bij de grens met Vlaanderen, anders gezegd, iek zou waarschijnlijk meer affiniteit met het vlaams hebben als mijn geboorteprovincie Zeeland, Brabant of Limburg zou zijn.

In 1984 was ik met mijn ouders en broerkes op reis naar noordwest Frankrijk en dan komt ge met het voituurke natuurlijk over de A14/E17 waar ge dan de roodwitte kilometerpaaltjes ziet, maar ik was natuurlijk nog maar een petit garçon dus ik weet daar nie veel meer van.

Ik kende niks van België eigenlijk, maar opeens bekwamen we op de lagere school geografie, eerst van onze eigen provincies en daarna van Europa. Zodoende leerden wij dat onze zuiderburen ook een frans deel hebben, en dat het land zich in 1830 van Nederland afsplitste.

 Heel veel later, op het havo verwittigde onze lerares frans: Als je in Brussel bent zul je je niet altijd kunnen redden met Nederlands c.q. Vlaams, dus daarvoor is het frans belangrijk.

Onze vakanties, wij brachten ze nooit door in Vlaanderen, noch in Wallonië. Misschien omdat mijn moeke het nooit echt plezant vond, maar meer omdat we liever ergens in een bergachtig gebied (Oostenrijk bijvoorbeeld) zaten.

Cultureel gezien is het natuurlijk prachtig allemaal. Fijne pralinen, biertjes die nergens anders in de wereld zo lekker en gevarieerd zijn en een grens die midden door het land heenloopt, de taalgrens.

In de herst van 1997 heb ik een blauwe maandag in een belgisch grensdorp gewoond in het kader van een studie in Maastricht. Ge hebt daar, in het westen,  drie belangrijke grensovergangen naar vlaamse dorpen die veel nederlandse inwoners hebben: die van Lanaken, Veldwezelt en Vroenhoven. Je ziet meteen de verschillen, want de weg is geen straatweg of rijksweg, allez non, het is een steenweg of chaussee.

Op het eerste grote kruispunt ruim een kilometer van de grens ligt dan de (steen)weg naar Lafelt (waar ik woonde), Kesselt met zijn steenfabriek en Veldwezelt. Wat ge als eerste ziet op dat kruispunt, amai, een authentiek frietkot voor als ge eens geen goesting hebt om te cuisineren…   

 Het vlaams heeft, zeker in nederlandse optiek, veel woorden van het Frans geleend en enigszins aangepast. Dit is niet gans vreemd gezien het feit dat het Frans en Waals in zuid-oost Belgie de voertalen zijn. In Brussel kan het gebruikelijk zijn dat men daar in het stadsdialect een zin half Nederlands en half Frans gebruikt, met alle desastreuse grammaticale fouten als gevolg.

 Ook het Nederlands is beslist niet vies van frans vocabulair, allez da krijgt ge na die franse overheersing van een paar eeuwen geleden. Maastricht zelf heeft de ambiance van een belgische stad.

In dat gebied is er feitelijk een soortement van drielandenpunt. Niet dat van Vaals, maar daar waar Belgisch Limburg (Vlaanderen) en de provincie Luik (Wallonie) samen tegen Nederlands Limburg “botsen”.

Gaat ge van Maastricht naar het westen, dan weet ge waar ge komt, in Belgisch Limburg. Maar neem eens de A2 naar het zuiden c.q. een normale weg en rij dan onder Eijsden la Belgique binen bij Visé. Ik ben toen eens naar Liège gegaan met de trein en daar is het al gans moeilijk om iemand te vinden die nog Nederlands spreekt. En dan is er ook nog de Voerstreek, een stukje Belgisch Limburg omklemd door de provincie Luik, waar een dikke dertig jaar geleden ook de nodige onrust was omtrent de taalkwestie.
Afgezien van vlaams en frans is er natuurlijk ook nog Duitstalig Belgie, land wat Duits was maar een kleine eeuw geleden aan Belgie toekwam, en wij hebben samen met de Belgen het bizarre Baarle Nassau / Baarle Hertog met zijn vreemde grenzen.

Vlak na de 2e wereldoorlog is een briljante Vlaming begonnen met een nu nog immer beroemde stripserie. Willy Vandersteen schreef en tekende verscheidene Suske en Wiske strips die ook nu nog altijd plezant zijn om te lezen. In 1972 geeft hij zijn “crayon” over aan Paul Geerts. In de strip kom je hier en daar personages tegen die andere talen spreken of heel creatief zijn met hun frans-nederlands-vlaamse mélange van zinsbouw. De Zwarte Madam is hier een goed voorbeeld van en ook Nanette in de Klankentapper. Zij is erg aimabel tegen Suske, gebruikt haar Nederlands in een franse constructie en Wiske is in dit album nogal jaloers. In de Kaartendans gebruikt Wiske het frans. De meeste albums zijn verkrijgbaar in een franse versie.

Ge leert er heel erg veel van omdat er heel veel onderwerpen gaan over zaken die in het verleden gebeurden, zodat “nos amis” in veel avonturen al of niet stiekem zich de toegang verschaffen tot het lab van de teletijdmachine en soms zelfs een somnifere koffie aan Barabas schenken. Ook ziet ge dat de strip die nu ruim 70 jaar oud is met de tijd meegaat, maar de meeste lezers blijven toch wel de oude “nostalgische” albums meer apprecieren.

Daar ik toch altijd al een talenknobbel heb gehad interesseerde het vlaams mij dus ook. Niet dat ik het echt geleerd heb natuurlijk, er is heden ten dage genoeg informatie te vinden om seffens rap een lijstke in uw tête te stampen. Belgie is natuurlijk sowieso het Walhalla van de (europese) strips, denkt ge eens aan deze figuren:
De Smurfen van Pierre Culliford

Lucky Luke van Maurice de Bevere

Kuifje van Hergé

Guust Flater van André Franquin

Waar je als Nederlander natuurlijk makkelijk vlaams mee kan leren, da is met Urbanus. Woorden zoals kurieuzeneus, kamion, een tourné general, oorkuiserke en vele anderen worden in zijn strips aangegeven met een * en het nederlandse equivalent erbij.

Andere opties om iets meer inzicht te krijgen in het vlaams, ge kunt gaan werken met belgische collega´s. Zij zijn vrijwel altijd ook goed met de Franse taal en het is altijd gezellig om een vrijdagmiddagborrel met die gasten te doen of om seffens een pintje te vatten.

Ge woont daar (in Vlaanderen) nie in een studentenhuis, maar uw kamer is een kot, vergelijkbaar met een kippenhok, dat is een poelkot of de reeds eerder genoemde friterie (het frietkot). Ge maakt uw woonkamer niet schoon, maar zorgt ervoor dat uw living proper is. Niet middels schoonmaken maar door te kuisen. Een situatie is in Nederland vervelend maar bij onze zuiderburen is het ambetant (embêtant).

Een jongedame is daar een “mammezelleke” (overduidelijk van het franse mademoiselle), in plaats van herrie en onrust maakt ge ambras.

Als ge in de ochtend uw kopje, awel nee ik ben abuis, uw tas koffie drinkt dan leest ge er natuurlijk geen krant en ook geen journal bij, maar een gazet, zoals die van Antwerpen of de Morgen.

Allez, het is natuurlijk merveilleux om met uw voituur en caravan over de Autoroute de Soleil naar Zuid Frankrijk te rossen. Maar geef Belgie een kans het is er zo leuk om in Brugge of Gent bootje te varen en dan een lekker kriekje of een tripel te drinken.   

Musical memory lane 2

The turning point, from rock to grunge and metal came very slightly around the end of 1991, heavily influenced by the “Smells like teen spirit” airplay. While I was still mainly listening GNR, AC/DC and Iron Maiden, in 1992 some marvellous albums rose to fame.

To start, the Rage against the Machine debut album. The use of the mf word, Zack´s great vocals the splendid lyrics and the devious distortion of the guitar made you just want to grab your bike, rush to the record store and buy the album, even if it would cost you half your paper delivery salary.

The debut album of Pearl Jam, Ten, was also very popular. Not that I´d consider myself a fan, but many Saturday nights spent at the discotheque with the blokes from my hometown and a few beers to many, the Alive song, or Even Flow, Jeremy or Black, it were tracks that belonged in that place at that time.

But somehow I searched and found even DARKER grunge, around 1993 I became very fond of Alice in Chains. And around this time I started listening to Anthrax with their new Sound of White Noise album that has some excellent songs, e.g. the sinister Black Lodge.

My neighbour E., who was in his mid-twenties then, borrowed me his Spreading the Disease cd so that I could tape it.

Then suddenly, Spoonman from Soundgarden came around and wow, how fabulous the 1994 Superunknown album and it still sounds great after 24 years.

Around this time I started digging in the past of rock music and found a Deep Purple compilation, singing Smoke on the Water and Child in Time during a session of cleaning the dishes. My neighbour told me he listened the new Megadeth album Youthanasia whenever it was his turn to do the dishes.
Eventually he told me that Megadeth would come to Arnhem for a concert and I joined him. We both knew that Anthrax would give a concert a couple of months later that year in Zwolle, and we went there too. It was nice, but Anthrax changed their style a lot with the Stomp 442 album.

During a library CD borrowing visit (1 buck = 1 CD) I found the 1971 L.A. Woman album by The Doors. At the Pere Lachaise in Paris in September ´95, Riders on the Storm sounded from my Walkman while standing at our friend Jim´s grave.

B., my dad´s niece found out that Deep Purple would perform in Rotterdam in the early spring of 1996 and of course I went there too, but I had to go to school the next day, so I didn´t sleep much and went to class with my Purpendicular shirt.

Between summer and autumn of ´96 I discovered the Sex Pistols and with them, the punk. Because of the popularity of grunge, apparently the punk got “reinvented” in the USA and in the Netherlands, the Offspring became very popular, therefore I started to research on the real punk from 1976. Technically, punk was not that beautiful as a style, but it did make a statement and it brought another fabulous band, The Clash.

In March 1998, I was done with studying and started to search for a job to earn some dough. Quickly I visited half a dozen “temporary job agencies” in the lovely small city of Zutphen. Then I went to a fabulous bar and had a coffee and later a beer while M., the owner stashed a Stranglers CD in the player. The Stranglers, famous 1974 UK based punk / new wave style band, known from smash hits like No More Heroes, Golden Brown and many more. With a French bloke on the bass and a very talented keyboardist.

At the end of the millennium, new vintage style record stores opened their doors, for example in the city of Deventer. Little by little I started collecting LP´s, some of them rare (picture discs and purple or blue vinyl) and now my brother is keeping all those records in his house because I could not bring it with me to Spain.

Musically, the years 2000 and further were even crappier than the nineties but I left my country and learned about Spanish music. My “ex” brother in law listened to Estopa, 2 brothers from north west Barcelona. Finally I moved to that city and my new “brother” was from Russia. We listened to Zemfira with her song “Skazki” (animated fairytales).

A new revolution arrived with my new “homie” from Pamplona, Navarra.  He listened more alternative music, reggae and stuff from basque groups. At that time I only knew the group Hertzainak thanks to some boys from Vitoria who lived with us for a couple of months.

Oh well, if you like Hertzainak, you must listen other basque groups, such as the 5 K´s: Kortatu, Kuraia, Ken Zazpi, Kerobia and Kauta, Berri Txarrak, Betagarri, Zea Mays and singer-songwriter Ruper Ordorika…

All of this music you need to listen with the lyrics on your screen and afterwards translate those lyrics because Basque is a very difficult language.

Around the same time I remembered having read an article about Jerry Garcia from the Grateful Dead and started listening to it. But then, French hardrock band Trust came along cause I bought the Répression album in Perpignan in north Catalonia (French territory obviously) and later a live album in Grenoble. If you have read my blog from the start, you will recall that it started in the French language because j´adore le français. Happy Quatorze Juillet everyone!

    

Musical memory lane part 1

Soon I´ll be starting my 5th decade and I´m taking you on a trip to musical memory lane.

42 years ago my parents married in a dutch border town and they had a splendid party afterwards in the discotheque bar where they met in ´73.

Over a year later I was born and eventually, technologically the seventies were not that advanced. No CD, no MP3, no internet, no streaming, and the music was so much better in the old days.

As a little kid, occasionally demanding “cookies”, I listened to dutch Radio 3 (or Hilversum 3), the channel that evolved years later into 3FM. Wunderbar by Tenpole Tudor must´ve been my first favourite track. My daughter, now around 19 months old, has been fond of Jamiroquai´s Automaton from the first day. Believe me, this little gem by Jay Kay and his marvelous band has helped to calm the little lady whenever she was upset.

Back to the eighties then. Between 1982 and 1984, pink and green were very popular colours because of the LP Skunk, by Doe Maar. These blokes were simply too popular and went on hiatus for about 15 years. All people in the Netherlands born between 1950 and 1980 know the lyrics of at least one Doe Maar song by heart.

Somewhere in 1983, my cool uncle,visited us and we had a tape of hits by Normaal, dutch dialect rock band from our province, they sing about beer, fun, chicks and motorbikes. The radio has always been the red line in my “music education”, after coming home from school, having a “cuppa tea” or on a Saturday morning, it was always turned on.

1984, the "magic year" that turned me into francophile: Skin Deep by the Stranglers was a nice song I heard on the radio.

My nephew had become a big fan of the band Duran Duran around 1985. When I visited him in Summer or Autumn of that year, he recorded the Arena album on a tape for me.

In 1986 I performed Neil from the Young Ones during a playbackshow with some classmates. Mister Cliff Richard had renewed his Living Doll tune and it was a huge success in the Netherlands.
It was a “glamrock” year, with the Americans Bon Jovi and Swedish band Europe for example. In the chestnut autumn we visited our family in the border town once more, and I got another compilation tape which became “the final countdown” cassette.   

Then in 1987, when finally English was being taught to us in school, an Australian band founded in ´76 suddenly got a hit in the Netherlands. Midnight Oil and their Beds are Burning helped me a lot with my English. Some other peculiar songs from that year were “Right Next Door” by the Robert Cray Band and the mysterious “Somewhere down the crazy river” by Robbie Robertson.

In 1989, my aunt knew that I was fond of the band Queen and she let her son tape the Miracle album for me. Around that same time the house music “invaded” the hit lists; it was terrible. At my new school, a smart kid with a huge comic collection and a big old MSX computer with tapes introduced me to AC/DC, and I took the rocky highway, distorsioning my voice to imitate Thunderstruck at the top of my lungs.

to be continued...

The bloke celebrates his birthday

In February 1982, my parents sent my brother O. and me to visit the neighbours. Mommy was expecting a baby and the little fella was born on Friday the 19^th around 5 PM. Hereunder I´ll dedicate a few lines to him. Not that I´m not fond of my other brother O. and I wouldn´t like him to be jealous, but he´ll understand.

L. was almost 8 Lbs when he was born, heavier than me or O. but eventually he grew up and never had any overweight.

Probably the cutest picture of him is from summer 1984 when we drove for the holidays to north-west France (probably Normandy) and the guy holds a baguette equal to his size at that time.

Seven years later, logical for an Aquarius, he was very fond of fishing and he tried his luck on camping sites in Sweden and Norway. This was a notorious holiday trip because on a German “Autobahn” the car had a flat tire due to the overstuffed caravan.

Between 1991 and 1992, we both became rock and heavy metal fans, with AC/DC, Iron Maiden and Metallica among our favourite bands. My brother must´ve had all Metallica albums on tape and/or CD. Obviously our nephews from the border town Aalten were influencers, as well as school mates.

One of his talents at young age; the ability to speak the Dutch language with accents from Amsterdam, The Hague and especially Rotterdam, where he rose to “child actors fame” after a photoshoot for and advertisement, to make publicity for the company our daddy was working for at that time.

In 1994 our “Amistad fraternal” was completely different. L. was growing up and got into his puberty which meant that at that time he didn´t need his big brother to bother him. Puberty is bloody nasty, at least it was for me, there are a lot of issues and you sometimes interpret things the wrong way and then you lock yourself up in your room with loud RATM (me in 1992) at full volume. Eventually it passes. The rock and metal path we used to walk together splitted; my brother discovered punk and hardcore (Bad Religion, NOFX, Black Flag, stuff like that) while I was more into Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, general grunge, thrash metal and old seventies bands (Black Sabbath, Deep Purple etc.)

Somewhere around 1998, my old school buddy M. invited by brother to play in his (sort of) punk band Nijntje Heerst (for non Dutch people, Nijntje is that cute little rabbit drawn by Dick Bruna, called Miffy in the rest of the world). They had some gigs and made a demo album, then the band broke up and they all went their separate ways.

Around the start of the new millennium we often went together to discotheques or other events. We had a splendid night in a bar in Doetinchem where the owner put a Creedence CD on and once at the Radstake, this cute blonde girl walked to me and asked me: Hey, who is that cool dude on the dancefloor? Well darling, he´s my brother.

Eventually they wound up together for a couple of months, in that period we went a few times to the P8, a dark and bit alternative discobar in Terborg.

Sometimes there were punk concerts at Elbekurkie (adaptation of Albuquerque in New Mexico?), a meeting centre for young people in a small village that belongs to Winterswijk. Since my brother had friends in that village we used to go there every once in a while.

Then I left the Netherlands to go and live in Valencia, Spain. In the summer of 2003, L. came to visit me although unfortunately I had to work during the day. In less than a week he learned Spanish, not using any books, but by heart, grammatically incorrect but Spanish people could have a conversation with him.

Only a year later, I left Valencia and moved to Barcelona. The first year was a bit hectic but in 2005, thanks to my Russian friend A., I could move to a house of a friendly landlady. I invited my brother to come in the Christmas period and so he did. We had a couple of cervezas in a typical tapas bar on the Madrid avenue and he improved his Spanish.

Christmas 2007 was sad because our granny passed away. Dad phoned me and said, just book a ticket to Germany and I´ll pick you up there.

After greeting the family at my grandparents house, being suddenly back in my country and not having any plans, what should I do?

L. was playing in a hardcore band called Strike First. He had a show at the Goudvishal in Arnhem and I could come. I made a video there and he uploaded it on Youtube.

3 days later, after granny´s funeral, we both visited the carbide shooting event, organized by O. and his buddies, a “happening” with a lot of beer and we got the idea to go back to Arnhem to visit friends of my hermanito there. It was a great new year; lots of booze and the girls, Marie and Jeanne where there too. January 1^st I woke up with a little hangover and we drove back to Barchem, our home town.

In May 2009 our niece A. had her wedding and we attended. I came with one of my excolleagues in his lorry from Barcelona via the French A9 and A6, through Luxembourg and Cologne to the Netherlands. My parents took me to visit my granddad, who enjoyed a glass of liquor in his retirement home. It was my last visit to him as he left us in February 2010.

L. posted a picture of him with his sunglasses on his FB. Curious enough, my brother does have a resemblance to his granddad, most curious was though that the funeral was arranged on February 19; for L. a day of mixed emotions, for the rest of the family too.

L. had created an account on Soundcloud and organized his birthday party in Enschede, themed “Stiekem” (sneaky or secretly). The windows were decorated with newspapers and he revealed that he liked techno music. I was a bit overwhelmed by this “sudden” change in his music style, but it turns out that he is a great composer and he is now even a DJ on gigs.

About 6 years ago L. found a nice girl, M. and they are still together. She is also talented and hardworking, so hope she´ll stay with him for years to come.

My last visit to my hermanito was in May 2016, we had the 40^th wedding anniversary party of my parents and I stayed afterwards for a couple of days in Enschede. This Monday the guy turns 36. Happy birthday hermano!! Though we´re separated by the ocean, we´ll always be HFL.

L´any nou a terra crucenya

L´any nou va començar amb molta pluja. Estavem celebrant l´ultima hora del 2017 a casa de ma sogra, pero la barrufeta s´en va dormir i doncs hem anat a casa nostra. Mentrestant els nanos estaven amb els seus focs artificials i els gossos amb molta por, vaig obrir l´ampolla de sidra de maduixa. Ja com no es pot comprar cava o champán en aquesta terra, només pels barris “pijos”… al poble no n´hi ha d´això, doncs, agafas vint pesos de ta butxaca (3 dólars) i a la nit brindes amb sidra.

El dimarts, primer dia de feina de l´any, va ploure moltíssim. Amb fortuna vaig poder agafar un taxi cap a la ciutat. La calçada estava destrossada i després d´un desviament de vint minuts, fin del trayecte per l´avinguda Cañoto.

Esperava el micro 56 o 57, pero arribaven poquets i tots mes omples que una llauna de sardines.   

Degut a la “fantástica” gestió de aquests senyors qui fan planificació urbanística, quasi sempre quan plou, hi ha inundacions nefastes tant com a la ciutat pero també a les pobles. Les garrofes recaudades dels impostos i les multes que la Hisenda de la república reclama, es van gastar en projectes i gran cantitat dels diners sempre es mantendrá penjat a l'arc del violí.

Hi ha un contraste de riqueza força gran quan fas comparació del sud i del nord de la zona urbana de Santa Cruz. Diguem que el centre “absolut” es l´intersecció de les avingudes Cañoto e Irala. Al sud, comença la avinguda Grigota, i del primer al segon anell es literalment “une avenue de merde” ja que s´hi trova la Ramada amb les seves caseritas, utilitzant la calçada per vendre ilegalment (i sense afluixar res d´impostos) a tothom. Roba, palomitas, fruites, legumbres, empanadas, carn de porc i pollastre etc.

Com ja la gent no té la costumbre de llençar els escombràries al cubo, parcialment també per que no n´hi ha dichos cubos o están destrossats, tota la m*rd* está al aire obert, pel carrer. Fa pudor, hi ha gent de pocs recursos, criden i hi ha pudor a la zona. Quan ma mare ho va veure, començava a plorar. 

Parlant urbanisticament, el nord es molt mes “ric”. Hi troves viaducts i empreses agricoles, el trafic es més fluid. El nordoest, precisament la zona del 4º anell i l´avinguda San Martin, es un somni mullat per tots els constructors. Botigues per la gent que es “ric del cagar” com diu David Guell en un episodi dels Plats Bruts. Llavors el Ventura Mall amb el Hardrock Café. I a la mateixa zona el pont vell al barri del Urubó, el pont nou al Urubo (crec que va costar quatorze millons de dòllars) i el Urubo mateix, un condomini pels mes afortunats.

La carretera al nord (a Warnes i Montero) té com problema principal que no hi ha prou iluminació, fent-la perillosa a l´oscuritat.

Politicament el país está fotut. No pas una miqueta, está fotudissima, per que el MAS fa interpretació dels lleis al seu gust i favor, i quan volen, ho canvian tot. El famoso referéndum del 21 de Febrer on la majoria dels votos va dir NO, doncs están fent tot, inclos si hagin de trencar la llei. Al país li fa falta un soplo d´aire fresquet, necessita d´un president qui pensa abans de parlar bojeries. Doncs haurán de buscar un home o una dona capaç de fer això. Maldaurament, els politics son evidentment molt influenciables a l´hora de rebre un sobre amb uns bitllets per sota la taula. Justicia existeix només pels rics, si no tens cales o si ets dona, mai pots guanyar.    

Llavors, el problema del aïgua quan plou es que n´hi ha pocs Canals i un sistema de drenatge com que no sapiguen que es. No es com Europa, on plou una estoneta. Pot ploure 6 fins a 12 hores degut al clima tropical. Si torna en Lorenzo després (el sol), cap problema, pero el trafic esta patint molt. A vegades es derrumba un pont….

CONTINUARA

MAME AND OTHER WAYS OF RETROGAMING

The arcade hall was a good place to hang out for kids in the 70s, 80s and 90s. But then, around 1985, Nintendo and Sega became giants and (at least in the Netherlands) the arcade cabinets made place for even more coin swallowing one armed bandits (just as Charlie Daniels sings in the 1974 song Trudy: Poured a bottle and a half of Red eye, dropped 35 dollars in the slot machine).  Sadly enough, even the pinball machines disappeared. Round this time the tendency that kids used to play on the street and in the woods changed to what we see now, kids that don´t play outside no more cause they all have a gaming console or handheld. 

Somehow people “like” stuff from 2 decades earlier. In the 80s I listened 60s music, in the early 90s the wide pair of trouses became popular just as in the 70s and in the new millennium, Dutch Radio 2 (one of the more “nostalgic” channels) started organizing weeks of the 80s. Nowadays we also get confronted constantly with buggery commercials on blue giant Facebook and its photogenic sister Instagram, you could call it “like hunting or begging”.

There is a huge retrogamer crowd out there.  Just search around on the social networks, they are easier to find than fish for a bear. Start with gamesyouloved on Twitter for example.

Probably because I never really had a gaming console I started “collecting” games for the (S)NES and the Megadrive to play them via emulators. “Movin´ on the queen´s highway, lookin´ like a streak of lightning in Sega´s 1991 Road Rash is tons of fun, racing around hitting other bikers, crashing against a car, a tree or fall off your bike because you take a turn the wrong way and then get busted by the cops….

From a retrogaming point of view, this is not really collecting. Retrogamers buy old consoles (new stock or from a garage sale or they get their NES, SNES, Megadrive, Game Gear or whatever device at a vintage store or flea market), they buy the original cartridges and they connect the console to their telly. But here in Bolivia I wouldn´t know where to get this stuff “legally”. Besides, you can always buy a chinese imitation retro console on the Ramada for only fifteen bucks.

Anyway, if you come across arcade games by Taito, Namco or SNK, then they are worthwhile to play.

My personal favourites would be the following:

5. Cabal from 1988

4. Enduro Racer from 1986

3. Super Hang On from 1987

2. Outrun from 1986

1. Euro Football Champ from 1992

Some time ago I tried to figure out about MAME, an arcade games emulator created by a clever Italian bloke who wanted to avoid the loss of arcade game heritage. After reading thoroughly some instructions I tried to get it running and the Euro Football Champ screen appeared on my laptop, giving me an instant flashback to spring 1992.

Instead of feeding the ferry arcade cabinet with quids, I hit the 5 to get credits, selected a team and started the first match. The loud scream of KICK OFF dashed through the speaker and it didn´t take long before the first ball was in the net and the GOOOOOAAAAALLLLLLs kept coming.

Using the B button you can make very serious FOULS for which you instantly get a yellow card, except when you make the foul outside the view of the referee, e.g. when he is on the ground (as Tweety says in his cartoons: Oh, the poor putty cat fell down…).

Eventually, there are several issues with MAME. First of all, when you find the rom and it can be played, you get a warning cause you “ought to have” the original hardware and stuff. Well… it´s the same with all those illegal MP3 files which are not really that difficult to find. Then there are tons of roms that have problems with missing files (the notorious CHD and rom error).
Now there are also a lot of roms that are not suitable for MAME, because they are created for the NEO-GEO arcade. The Neo Geo console created by SNK was at its time a tremendously expensive machine. MAME won´t read Sega roms either (such as Crazy Taxi or Sonic games).

My favourite genres  are racing, shooting, pinball and soccer games. In 1988, shortly after the Dutch Lions won their one and only soccer trophy in Germany, causing the whole country to live in an orange haze for about a month, we drove to the Sempach lake in Switzerland to celebrate the annual holidays there. The camping site had a small arcade hall with a beautiful tennis game but I can not remember the name. Generally, tennis games are complicated to play on whatever system, they require a lot of practice.

As far as I remember, there never existed a Dutch version for DOS. But in Spain, many people (used to) have a Spanish DOS / Windows setup. As a twelve year old in the late 80’s I just had to learn stuff by myself. Of course the Hercules card limited my game options, but when you visited friends and relatives back then, you´d always bring floppy disks with games for them and they would eventually let you copy their games. And some time later when Daddy got his 486, he bought a VGA card for me and my brothers.

The Sierra adventure games are still considered as the best in their genre.  In the early 90s, a new way of software selling was invented: Split up a game in three episodes, give the first one free with the purchase of a computer magazine and then if you wanted the remaining part of the game, you´d wire some bucks to the USA. Apogee was very successful with this and their games (Keen, Duke Nukem, Crystal Caves, Secret Agent) are quite enjoyable.

FELIZ NAVIDAD

Vie hors de Barcelone

Depuis 13 ans, au mois d´octobre j´arrivais a Barcelone, pour être exacte, je me demenageais au quartier de Sants.

9 ans plus tard je partais avec ma femme Y. a son pays, la Bolivie. C´etait le 20 mars 2013, j´entrais au monde sudamericain. Je regardais les vieilles blanches bagnoles Toyota Corolla de debut des années quatre-vingts-dix et je pensais, tout le monde conduit la même voiture.

Au vieux continent, l´Europe, tu bois ta bière lentement pour éviter d´être bourré après de quelques heures. A Bolivie on boit comme ci c´etait la dernière bouteille ou canette disponible ou comme si ils ont arrivé a un oasis du Sahara desert. Seco seco.

H., le frère de ma femme nous emmenait a 2 voyages. Le 1er, a la petite ville Vallegrande, environment 220 KM de Santa Cruz. Sa voiture etait tout complet et nous partions déjà a 6 heures du matin. On regarde Samaipata, un village touristique, les montagnes, la route 7 est très dangereuse ici. Après de Samaipata on arrive a Mairana, ici on trouve les champs du tabac et dans le village Mataral est située la croix avec la route 22, celle qui va au sud vers Pampa Grande (un lieu-dit avec “sandias”) et Vallegrande, ou nous arrivions a 13 h de l´après-midi.

H., Y. et moi, nous allions a la place central de la ville, nous achetions 3 canettes de bière et nous la buvions. Franchement nous avions venu seulement pour bouffer des “salteñas”, alors le matin suivant nous visitions la salteñeria et après nous partions de retour au village.

Le mois suivant, la famille voulait faire autre voyage, maintenant au Sud, a la ville Villamontes au departement Tarija. Bon alors, c´est un peu loin, environment 500 KM, mais le chemin est mieux.

Nous sortions a 18:30 un vendredi. Au Km. 13 nous avons pris la route 9, celle qui va jusqu´a la frontiere avec Argentine. Nous avons fait le souper 3 heures plus tard dans la rue (on ne trouve pas des tables pic-nic a Bolivie) et nous sommes continues la route au sud. Au dernier peage nous avons relaxé les pieds et les bras un peu et nous avons pissé a côté de la rue (toilettes, c´est foutu pour les trouver). H. prenait des feuilles de coca, donnait un peu a sa fille et aussi a moi. 20 KM avant de Villamontes, le ciel s´ouvrait et il commençait a pleuvoir fort.

 Au dernier peage nous avons relaxé les pieds et les bras un peu et nous avons pissé a côté de la rue (toilettes, c´est foutu pour les trouver). H. prenait des feuilles de coca, donnait un peu a sa fille et aussi a moi. 20 KM avant de Villamontes, le ciel s´ouvrait et il commençait a pleuvoir fort.

Vers 3 heures du matin nous etions a Villamontes chez Monsieur C. et sa famille. Il y avait des grenouilles dans son jardin et nous dormions finalement jusqu´a 6:30.

Villamontes, ville très chaude (environment 40 a 45 degrées a l´été), est située a plus ou moins 75 KM de Yacuiba, la dernière ville de la Bolivie avant d´arriver a l´Argentine. Je voulais y aller mais tant pis, c´etait pas possible.

Les chemins a la rivière Pilcomayo etaient dans ce moment honteusement mauvais. C. allait avec nous a la rivière et il donnait instructions pour trouver les poisons, sauf a M. car il est déjà un expert. Ma meuf trouvait 2 ou 3 poissons, moi 5, c´est un bon début, et M. 8 poissons et alors nous retournions pour preparer le déjeuner “chicharrón de pescado”. Il faisait chaud et on faisait une siesta a l´après-midi. Dans la soirée nous allions au centre de la ville pour manger un steak haché et au retour chez C. les mecs avaient leurs bières, de la musique, du coca et des cigarettes. Je dormais tard.

Le dimanche nous visitions le marché pour acheter des poissons, les femmes voulaient emmener les poissons au village, car chez nous c´est compliqué et cher pour trouver ça. Nous allions après a autre côté de la rivière mais l´eau n´etait pas calme et nous ne trouvions aucune poisson.

Après le dejeuner vers 14:30 le voyage de retour commençait… La route jolie avec des vaches et cochons qui promenaient sur la route 9. Nous avons fait le souper au village Cabezas et le moteur avait des petites malheurs, avec de la chance nous arrivions de retour au village vers 22 h du soirée.

Maintenant j´explique un peu du village “El Torno”. C´est en fait une petite ville a 33 KM du chef-lieu de la province Andres Ibañez et du département Santa Cruz.
Ici habitent beaucoup de gens du centre et de l´ouest du pays. Celui qui vient de l´ouest (La Paz, Potosí) ou du centre (Cochabamba), parle different que les “cambas”.
Les samedis au debut de la soirée ou les dimanches, tu peux aller a acheter tes oignons, tomates, poivrons, ail et autre type de légumes. Les petites rues du centre sont remplies de “caseritas” qui parlent comme ça; Buenos días caserito, que va llevar? Ou bien: Don choquito ven a comprar.

Un choco / una choca veut dire un keum ou une meuf avec les cheveux rouges ou blondes.

Les “caseritas” normalement te donnent une ou deux unités extra cadeau, ça s´appelle “yapa”. Le petit déjeuner a Bolivie n´est pas comme par exemple l´Espagne, là tu vas au bar, tu prends ton café noir avec un croissant. Mais ici les bars se trouvent seulement aux quartiers “chiques”, par exemple au nord-ouest de Santa Cruz (avenue Saint Martin). On aime beaucoup prendre des soups/potages avec une quantité industrielle de grasse (Patasca ou Fricase). Dans le matin, avant de 8 heures on mange ça. Un alternatif sont les empanadas de fromage / poulet ou charque. Bien súr les deux options ne sont pas bien pour ceux qui ont l´estomac delicat.

Si vous me connaissez sur FB, vous avez vu avec certaine frequence que je m´enfou des problems et malheurs logistiques de l´infrastructure parce que il y a uniquement des routes nationales et souvent on fait des barrieres et personne peut passer (comme le lundi dernier). Alors on doit promener 6 ou 7 KM et après suivre dans autre micro pour arriver a ta destination.

Les affaires, du business ici, c´est pas très facil, car tout est énormement bureaucratique et le niveau d´honnête de l´état es franchement bas. Les cultives de coca, une feuille innocente que les hommes mastiquent dans leur temps libre, accompagné par des clopes Casino (tabac noir, comme Ducados en Espagne) et quelque fois avec un liqueur inferieur d´alcool qu´on appelle “Pecho Colorado”.  Liqueur de bon qualité est surtout importé depuis l´Argentine. Le grand problème avec le coca est que des grandes quantités d´un jour par autre sont "disparues"  aux laboratoires et on fabrique le poudre blanc lequel Mia Wallace met dans son nez au pub Jackrabbit Slim´s, criant "Goddamn, I said goddamn, faisant reference au chanson "The Pusher" de Steppenwolf de 1968. Cette chanson donne acte de présence au début du film Easy Rider. 

   

Les gens pauvres habitent dans leurs petites maisons ou ils louent une chambre de ceux qui offrent, comme “partager piso” en Espagne. En raison des nombreux voleurs / criminels, il y a des clôtures ou des murs autour de chaque maison. Si vous ne donnez pas cette protection à votre maison, ils braquent votre porte ou votre fenêtre, on prend tout de valeur qu´on vend après au marché noir.

Ceux qui ont beaucoup de “pâte”, ils habitant dans une “quinta”. Là on trouve des arbres avec des fruits tropicaux, par exemple mango, papaya, avocat ou achachairu. Après de la recolte, on vend les fruits a un distributeur ou directement a les “caseritas” qui après le vendent a toi. Autre possibilité est que les quintas fabriquent confiture des fruits ou liqueur.

Normalement, quand tu fais une promenade aux Pays-Bas, Allemagne, France ou l´Espagne, tu vas regarder l´avenue ou la rue ou même le forêt et tu vas observer que c´est très propre. Ben donc oubliez vous de ça. On jete tout a la rue. Comme chante Bernie Bonvoison: Regarde bien au face de cette universe de poubelle. Même a côté des panneaux “Prohibido botar basura, multa xxx BS” on voit des canettes, papiers, plastique, bouteilles et autre dechets.