Los Indianos

Author and friend in Los Indianos, Santa Cruz de la Palma

In Santa Cruz de la Palma, the highlight of Carnival is Powder Night - Los Indianos. This commemorates the people who emigrated from La Palma in the 1940s to 1970s and especially those who came back rich.

An Elegant Lady

Anyone can join in the parade. You just dress up in white, maybe have a suitcase full of Monopoly money, and for some reason throw vast quantities of talc at each other.
When I say "vast", the town hall gives out something like six tons of it to people in the parade, and one supermarket was selling 25 kg sacks.

A Not-so-Elegant Lady

When I lived in Santa Cruz, you could follow the progress of the parade by the cloud of talc drifting above the four-storey buildings on the route. Once the parade finishes, there's dancing in the street (of course) and a fun fair, which my son loves. Not surprisingly, we had a great time.

Batucada (percussion) in the Plaza España

Boogie on Down

Friday night was the fiesta for issue 7 of Fanzine Ruido. I wanted to go, so did my husband, and it was too late for our son.

We got lucky at someone else's expense. Our friends Helen and Theresa wanted to go too, but their clutch has an intermittent problem, and they didn't trust it all the way to Los Llanos. On the other hand, they had to come to Santa Cruz on Friday afternoon anyway. So Theresa stayed with our son while Helen came out with us, then they slept in our guest room.


It was a great night out. €3 paid for entrance to the gig, a copy of the magazine, and a free beer. (I was driving, so it was the only alcohol I had all night.)


Casiano Melian



I'd promised to take photos - the bands turned out for free to help support the magazine, so we take publicity photos for them. This time I remembered the big flash (the one we call the tactical nuke) but my favourite photos were some of the ones I took with the available light.

And here's one I took with the flash, just to prove I took it.

Eremiot y la Tripulación

And finally, they had an impromptu jam session. My husband joined in on the drums, and had a great time.

New experiences

Last night I finally got to see the dancing horses (caballos fufo) during the fiesta in Tazacorte. I wanted to get photos, so I made sure I charged up the camera battery, and tookthe full kit. When I got there, I found that the horses were dancing in pretty dark streets, and that they move really fast. So I was really pleased that I'd brought along my big flash gun, the one nicknamed "the tactical nuke."

I put it onthe camera, but it wouldn't switch on.

No batteries.

*head-desk* *head-desk* *head-desk* *head-desk* !

So I went in for creative use of blur!

The photos are on my blog at http://lapalmaisland.sheilacrosby.com

The other new experience was my first ever yoga class tonight. It's much harder work than it looks! But I had a nice surprise.

Some months ago, a friend tried to teach me the yoga salutation to the sun, and I just couldn't do it. I couldn't even do it badly. My spine was too stiff, my arms too weak to lift my upper body off the ground, and my hamstrings too short. So I settled for doing a few gentle stretches a day. And for the last six weeks or so, I've been spending a couple of minutes a day lifting weights to strenghten my arms. Yesterday I noticed that I've got tiny biceps for the first time in years.

And tonight I could do the salutation to the sun! OK, I did it badly, because my hamstrings are still too short, and by the time we finished, my biceps were trembling. But I did it!

OK, you can lock me up now...

After three weeks of being responsible, helping friends (which I was glad to do, don't get me wrong) and bashing on with the current translation, something snapped yesterday morning. So I went out. I told myself I was getting material for the blog, but to be honest, what's the point in living on a paradise island, and then spending all day in the house?

So I went to Belamaco cave, The old windmill in Mazo, and Salemera beach where I photographed the rubbish bins (trash cans in American English). I think it really must be time for the kindly men in white coats to take me away for a nice, long rest.

Actually I did take some normal shots too. The Salemera ones are on the blog about La Palma. But this is my favourite!

It was bound to happen sooner or later. An intelligent woman can only sweep the stairs so many times before she flips.

R.I.P. Florian Goebel

Florien was the project manager for MAGIC II, the second of the huge Cherenkov telescopes at the Roque de los Muchachos. The telescope was due to be inaugurated next week, on the 19th. That's been delayed now, because somehow he fell from the prime focus tower in the dark last night. The tower is about ten metres (33ft) high, and Florien's dead.

I only ever had one conversation with him. He must have been very busy, but he took time out to help me with a magazine article. I always think that's the acid test of character: how you treat people who are of no possible use to you.

My husband worked for him for three weeks, fitting mirror segments to MAGIC II, and said several times how nice he was.

My sincere sympathies to his family.

Sunset on top of the world

GranTeCan (Grand Telescopio Canario / Big Canarian Telescope) at sunset.

Some six weeks ago I got permission to take sunset photos at the observatory. But one way and another, there was always something that stopped me going: I was ill, or my husband got home late, or the the air was full of Sahara dust and the sunset would be lousy. Yesterday I finally got up to the Roque at sunset. I was pretty happy with the photos I got.

I wanted to put a human being in for scale, and since I was on my own, I used the delay timer and ran into the shot.

I'm not at all fit. I'm not used to sprinting, and up at the Roque, there's only 75% of the usual oxygen.

I pulled a muscle in my rear. It hurts.

And this is NOT FUNNY!

The Battle of Lepanto

Sunday was busy.

I left home with my son at 10 am to go to Puntagorda, so he could have a go on the Karts. Sadly, it turned out to be a demonstration of Karts, and he couldn't have a go himself. So I took one very disappointed kid off to lunch at my friend's house on the edge of the village.

It was a nice lunch, with better company.

We popped into Puntagorda's farmer's market, right at the last minute. I only just had time to grab some freshly squeezed sugar-cane juice and a bottle of wine before the place shut, which was a pity, because it's a great place for veg.

Then we drove to our friends in Franceses, where my son got a brief video game fix, before the four of us headed off to see the Battle of Lepanto in Barlovento. By the tie that had finished, we were tired and hungry, so we had a quick plate of soup in the local restaurant and went home.

A Close Encounter with a Prickly Pear

I went with my friend last week to photograph a leaning dragon tree in Puntagorda, and we found a tame chough there. I think it makes a good living from tourists.

And then we went to have a look at the ravine, and I brushed gently against a prickly pear. Of course I got hundreds of spines on the shoulder my T shirt, and I couldn't think of driving back until I'd got them out, or the car seat would have pushed them into me.

My friend tried to get them out, but there were so many it was going to take forever. She even suggested driving back to her house without my T shirt, but I was worried that at least one oncoming driver would be so distracted he'd crash - it's not exactly a straight road. So we decided that the lesser evil was for me to take my T shirt off so two of us could work on removing the spines. I sat in the car for that, so as to be a bit less visible from the other side of the ravine. At least I was in the shade!

So there we were, working away at my T shirt, and an old man came down the track!

I threw the T shirt over as much of myself as possible, but he didn't seem a bit embarrassed and stood there chatting to us for at least five minutes, even after I said I'd brushed the prickly pear and got spines all over my T shirt. My friend though he had bad eyesight, and didn't see how little I was wearing. But I suspect he was just bemused, and felt you could expect any bizarre behaviour from foreigners. Or maybe he was just two sandwiches short of a picnic.

Eventually he went, and we got rid of all the prickles we could find, and drove to my friend's house. Thank goodness it was close.

And I had a shower, to get rid of as many left-over spines as possible. Yes, I found a couple in my knickers. How in God's name did they get there?

And for the next few days I was pulling them out of myself. I think I've got them all now.

But if that's what happens when you barely touch it, I'd really, really hate to fall into one.

Fainting Tourists

Wow, what a week!

I can now spout explanations of four new telescopes (although I need to work on the bit about Cherenkov radiation in Spanish) and the general talk about the observatory. It took a lot of practice, and I'm sure I must have looked quite mad, lecturing the bathroom mirror on the short history of Gamma Ray telescopes. But however ridiculous I looked, it worked. By Tuesday, I found myself regurgitating it quite confidently in front of the tourists.

I was deep in the explanation of how they observe gamma rays, given that gamma rays never make it as far as the earth's surface, when I heard a collective gasp and everyone looked away from me.

An old lady had fainted.

She was already coming around when I got there. We moved her to the recovery positioninthe shade, and I just had time to run through the checks to make sure it was a faint, not a stroke, when Romer, the assistant, arrived with the ambulance.

By then it was obvious we didn't need it. She was on her feet again, with her husband hugging her fit to bust her ribs and choking back tears. The poor man obviously thought for a second that she'd died.

She insisted that she was fine, and sorry for being such a bother. So Karl, the boss of the MAGIC, produced a chair and some water and we carried on. Then when we'd finished with the MAGIC, we persuaded her to rest in the nice, cool residencia for the second half of the visit.

We made a good team, I think.

We got up to the Liverpool and Mercator telescopes, and found engineering work going on inside the Liverpool,and the man who'd offered to take half the group very busy with higher priority things. But I wasn't going to let a little thing like that put me off after coping with the faint. I ploughed on, and remembered it all (although not quite in the best order.)

One of the visitors comments afterwards, that they enjoyed it, but it would have been even better with some photos of galaxies or seeing the telescope move.

So now we have pretty pictures organised for the next visit to the Mercator.

Most of Wednesday passed in a blur of housework. I went to see the astronomer for the Galileo telescope who does public relations, to educate myself some more. Then I took my son to the dentist. And finally, by way of relaxation, I drove right to the other side of the island to see the Fiesta del Carmen, where they take the statue of the Virgin Mary on a boat to bless the fishermen. I've been here 17 years, and it was the first time I've actually got there to see it. I was hoping it would all happen with the golden evening light, but it was dark by the time the boats left the harbour. It was still beautiful.


It was beautiful.

Ruido Magazine, Issue 6

Well it's out there.

Helen did a great job of the layout, and the party in Rocke's bar was fun. Mind you, I was taking photos and video for the web page, so I couldn't just relax. But it's all up at the Ruido website.

And one of the raffled T shirts went unclaimed after they'd drawn three numbers, so Merche threw it into the crowd. I was very pleased with myself for catching it in mid air.


So that's the Ruido web site up to date - until I have to start work on getting the previous issue up. And I've blogged. So that just leaves learning about new telescopes, the translation, entertaining my son in the school holidays, the housework, the novel, saving the whales, reversing global warming, and bringing peace to the Middle East.

You, I'm really puzzled by people who say they've got nothing to do all day.

More Tour Guiding

Last summer and this spring, I got several mornings work as a tour guide, showing people around either the William Herschel Telescope, or the Isaac Newton Telescope.

Today was my first go at the new-style open days at the observatory (see my blog about the island) where I have to give a general talk about the observatory first, then take them to the MAGIC telescope (and maybe give the explanations if the MAGIC site manager isn't available) and finally take them to one other telescope, which could be the Galileo, the Liverpool or the Mercator. Today was the Galileo, and one of the Italian astronomers was going to give the talk there. That left me learning the general talk, and creating one about the MAGIC.

Last night I dreamed that I arrived at the residencia (the private hotel for the observatory) in good time, had a quick coffee, and suddenly I was half an hour late, and I couldn't find my car to go and meet the visitors. So I ran uphill the whole way, only to find that they were all Japanese, and expecting me to explain telescopes to them in Japanese.

Spot the anxiety dream.

And this morning went fine.

I was on time (as always). Juan Carlos, the observatory site manager, offered to give the general talk, since it's the first time, and I gratefully accepted. As it turned out, most visitors were Spanish, but six were German, so he gave the talk in Spanish, and I did it in English for the Germans. Then Karl, the MAGIC site manager, was available, so he gave a talk in German, while Juan Carlos did it in Spanish, and I listened and learned.

In fact the hardest bit was the Galileo, translating the talk into English when I could only half hear it for the background noise. Fortunately I knew more than half of it anyway, so I managed.

And then I went off to the Mercator and Liverpool telescopes to educate myself. I came home feeling that my brain had been down the gym, but it was fun.

And now you'll have to excuse me. I have to do my homework. I'll never remember all that new stuff unless I write it down in my own words.

Star Party

My friends in Franceses have amateur telescopes, and my friend in Puntagorda usually has cloudless summer nights with no street lights nearby. So we finally put the two together.

The catch is that it meant camping, because the house in Puntagorda is tiny, but that made a change.

It's almost a year since I've been camping, partly because the previous exhibition wasn't a success. (See Sleeping With My Best Friend's Wife) This time I vowed to be better prepared, and bought two new sleeping bags.

We got there for lunch, and then I left my son with our friends (who were setting up telescopes), while I went off to take photos of a local artist for Ruido. That was fascinating.

We came back and cooked a barbecue meal, watched the clouds roll in, and discussed our chances of actually seeing stars.

It stayed cloudy, and my son went to bed. We stayed up, chatting and drinking wine.

Then glory be, the clouds disappeared and the stars blazed. I woke my son.

The big 10" telescope (the one in the photo. If you look closely, you can just see my son's eye in the innermost circle.) had a technical problem, but the 90mm was fine. We just had time to get a really nice view of Jupiter, complete with cloud bands and the four Galilean moons, when the cloud rolled back.

So we went to bed. And this time I didn't freeze.

Racism

Well I've been invited to leave the island for supporting a non-approved football team. Somebody calling him/herself "The voice of the Awara" emailed their list and said "We invite all foreigners who shout 'Spain!' to pack their cases and leave for the Peninsular."

Nobody I've asked knows who this person is, much less remembers electing them as the island's spokesperson. Most of them support the national team too.

I've had emails from this self-appointed "leader" before. What the history books call the conquest of the island, he calls an invasion and armed robbery. I find this refreshing, since I agree (although most people seem to have regarded it as normal at the time.)

S/he wants independence from Spain. I can see all sorts of problems with that - very small countries tend to get pushed around - but everyone is entitled to their own opinion.

S/he refers to La Palma as a colony of Spain. Nope. It certainly used to be a colony. A colony, by definition, is ruled from outside, and has no say in the matter. We get to vote in national elections, same as everywhere else in Spain. Not everybody likes the result, of course, but they're real elections, not like Zimbabwe.

But the bit that really annoys me is the attitude to people from mainland Spain. Now I don't know about you, but I judge people by their actions, especially towards the powerless. I look at the way they treat slow old ladies and stray cats.

Not this person. The entire population of mainland Spain is guilty of invading La Palma. The invasion was a crime, and therefore the Spanish football team are criminals.

Of course it's obvious that the Spanish football team didn't invade personally. (Did they have a time machine or what?) No, they're judged guilty because they're the same race as the guilty person.

In other words, this self-appointed "voice of the Awara" is a racist.

And I'll support whatever football team I damn well like.