Do we respect our own languages? Part 5: Basque

Earlier this year, a series of four articles investigating how native speakers consider their own languages was featured as guest posts on the Lingua Greca website. The series now continues with four different languages. This week, we look at how proudly Basque speakers feel about their own language, Euskara, and whether its neighbouring languages - French and German - are posing a threat.

What do I know about Basque? I know that it is perhaps one of Europe’s most interesting languages. Etymologically speaking, it is completely unrelated to any other surviving language in the world and spoken by around 750,000 people.

I have limited experience with the Basque language – only a day trip to Biarritz. Although the road signs were bilingual, I didn’t really sense much of a presence of the language used in daily life in this French-administrated part of the Basque Country. Perhaps things are different on the Spanish side of the border.

With such a relatively small number of native speakers, is this a language of which its people are as fiercely proud as one would imagine?

 

“For speakers of more influential languages, such as Spanish or English, this question is very difficult to understand, since they have never faced the problem of being discriminated against,” says Itziar Gonzalez. “For us, respecting our language means to speak it, above all. When everyone is bilingual and one of the other languages is more influential (French in the northern part and Spanish in the southern part), respect means speaking Basque.”

 

In the Franco era (1939-1975), speakers of languages other than Spanish (or rather Castilian) were prohibited from speaking any other language in Spain. Imagine two Catalans in Barcelona not being able to converse in their native Catalan language. Fortunately, since Spain’s transition to democracy in 1975, it has come to recognise its linguistic diversity and introduce legislation to protect its regional languages.

The Basque Country (yellow) -
the Basque language is much
more prevalent on the Spanish
side of the border

“Conversations between Basque speakers are sometimes held in Euskañol (a mix of Basque and Spanish) or even just Spanish itself, but the use of Basque is based on the language in which the first contact was made. And it's very difficult to change.”

It is understandable why this is the case. Not everyone in the Basque Country speaks Basque. In the part of the territory on the French side of the border, one is much more likely to hear French – a language that has traditionally not been afraid to assert its dominance over its neighbouring languages. In the southern side of the Spanish Basque Country, very few people speak Basque as well. So how does this work in such a linguistically divided area?

 

“In a shop or public office, a Basque speaker will usually say the first words in Basque. If other person speaks Basque back, then Basque is spoken. If not, then Spanish is spoken. In public offices, civil servants should speak Basque, or at least have a basic knowledge of it, so a lot of people continue to speak Basque, but this depends on the reaction of the civil servant. Some of them are kind and try to speak Basque, but when they say “Talk to me in Spanish” unkindly, the conversation turns to Spanish, but it is not so nice and Basque speakers are annoyed by this reaction. In cases where it is legally obligatory to speak Basque, such as in a public office, people should have the right to speak Basque face-to-face, and it is very annoying, since this is often not respected.”

So, it seems that Basque speakers have to fight for the right to hold a conversation in their own language in their own country. Europe has come a long way in recognising and even promoting its regional languages, reversing traditional trends of oppression. In theory, Spain is one of the most tolerant countries in terms of respecting its linguistic diversity. It recognises Basque as one of its co-official languages, but evidently linguistic legislation isn’t working.

The Basque people are one of
the proudest on the continent, but
still find it a battle to speak their
own language in their own
country

Basque is a group of dialects. More or less each province and each town has its own variation of the language. Until 1968, standard Basque did not exist and each writer used to write in their own dialect. Now we have this unified Basque orthography, is there respect for the written, standard language?

“When writing in official contexts such as school, university, books, reports and scientific writing, then yes. Private writing like text messages, emails and on social networks, then no. Does it matter? No. Standard Basque was created as a unified way of writing, and this goal has been achieved. Also, the spoken language is not one language, but several dialects, so not speaking the standard language is not considered as a lack of respect. But they are considered as mistakes in official language, i.e. if you use a dialectal form of an auxiliary verb in an exam, it a mistake.”

Being surrounded by two of the world’s most dominant languages – French and Spanish – how are foreign words affecting Basque?

“Well, that's not a problem at all nowadays. We do not have any problem saying interneta, telefonoa, autobusa, tableta. We know they are international words, not just Spanish, French or English words. They do not threaten us, they enrich us and we don’t have a problem with that. Our problem is that our language is not spoken everywhere.”

With recent regional elections to the Basque Parliament resulting in the Basque National Party maintaining its presence as the largest party in the region, the people are clearly proud of their heritage but must continue to assert their right to speak their own language in their own country. After all, Spanish was once a regional language too.

Itziar Gonzalez is PhD student in Computational Linguistics and Basque Philology. She studied German Philology as an undergraduate degree and also holds a Master’s in Computational Linguistics. In addition to her native Basque language, she also speaks English, German, French and Spanish.

Aventuras Alicantinas

Did you miss the Aventuras Alicantinas series? Well, here are all five parts available in one place. Find out what I got up to during this six-week period in summer 2010, both in and, more importantly, out of the classroom.
 

Part 1: Un Llegado Alicantino

Part 2: La Hora de Clase

Part 3: Castillos, Costas y Ciudades

Part 4: La Vida Nocturna

Part 5: Madrid y Valencia

  

 

Las Aventuras Alicantinas – Part 5: Madrid y Valencia

Being on the Iberian Peninsula for the very first time, I needed to see more of Spain beyond the tourist resorts. Valencia was just 2 hours and 30 minutes away by coach and, what’s more, my friend Jack was studying Spanish too there for the summer.

Two weeks into my stay, I was up bright on early on a Saturday morning to catch the bus, so early that the only people on the streets were hosing the pavements down and sweeping up the litter generated on an average Friday night in Alicante. With Spain being a relatively advanced country, I imagined that its long distance coaches would be modern and comfortable, rather than a vehicle that essentially consisted of the chassis and the frame and stunk of engine fumes for the whole journey. Luckily, the route followed the Mediterranean Sea on the right hand site for most of the journey, so that took my mind off it.

Valencia looked strange. In fact, it reminded me of Brussels because of its vast variety of architecture styles. Coming into Spain’s third largest city, there were only dull residential tower blocks and baron river channels overgrown with weeds - a clear product of more recent expansion to the city - but the remnants of the old town became more apparent as we approached the heart of the city.

Ancient stone buildings were abundant and were a stark contrast to the striking modern complex of the City of Arts and Sciences with its sleek, curved white architecture of the late 1990s. Unfortunately, I had only a few hours to spend in Valencia, not enough by far to discover its cultural attractions, its marina and its hidden treasures.

Just two weeks later, I went to Madrid for the day, taking a short one-hour flight at around 7 in the morning. I made my way around the city, visiting the National Library, the Royal Palace, the Botanical Garden, the Reina Sofia Museum of Modern Art and the Madrid’s various squares and prominent churches and cathedrals.

I love trips likes these - trying to take in as much as possible of a sizeable city at a considerable pace within a day - but the thing is that I never get to see as much as I’d like to, as there’s only so much you can see in one day. Nevertheless, I am usually satisifed to just have a self-guided walking tour of a city like Madrid, even in the scorching weather. But I never know when or if I’ll be back in a certain place, so this type of sightseeing is ideal as far as I’m concerned.

It was all these experiences of different places and different people that made this six-week period in Spain one of the most culturally, socially and educationally intense of my life and when all the hype and buzz of a time like that was over, only then could I realise how lucky I am to be a linguist.

Thus concludes Las Aventuras Alicantinas. I hope you’ve enjoyed the series!

Las Aventuras Alicantinas – Part 4: La vida nocturna

Decisions, decisions...

August evenings in Alicante were usually warm and breezy, which was great with a few cold pints of San Miguel on the marina. Naturally, I had to try the local cuisine as well. Paella is pretty much everywhere in coastal Spain, but there are regional varieties. Whereas Paella Valenciana is a chicken dish, Paella Alicantina was principally infused with seafood – particularly types I’d never tried before.

Even though I was a language student, I wasn’t one for being too adventurous when it came to trying new food, but still, when in Rome and all that. So, I did at least try monkfish, calamari and prawns but subsequently opted to eat the rice around the seafood.

A short walk from the marina, past the night-time streets lined with gentlemen selling cheap flashing tack and ladies offering hair braids, were the narrower, cobbled streets of the old town, home to many tapas restaurants.

Inspecting the contents of paella

Tapas has a reputation, in the UK at least, of being relatively expensive and not providing a filling meal. In Spain, it tends to be much cheaper – about €2.50 a dish – so four dishes and you have the equivalent of a meal in price and quantity, but richer in variety, especially when sharing with friends. What’s also great is that there is a range of complexity in the food, from potato croquettes and meatballs to chorizo in a wine sauce and tortilla, all with a bottle of Rioja (to share). Beautiful!

Dinner in Spain is around 9pm, much later than the 6/7pm we’re used to in the UK, so by the time dinner was over, it was around 11pm – the earliest point when the clubs would open. Clubs in Spain are fundamentally the same as in Britain, except one that I went to charged €8 entry...if you’re a guy. Girls get in for free. It was probably worth it seeing as we stayed here until around 7am.

Muchas tapas

Alicante isn’t short of clubs, pubs or bars, or people incessantly pestering you with flyers and offering free drinks to entice people through its doors. One of these was an “Irish pub”. I’m not too sure what the obsession on the continent is with so-called Irish pubs. The only pre-requisite seems to be to sell a Guinness for €7 and have a guy called Paddy work behind the bar. But this was where I discovered Beer Pong – a game that involves setting up 10 cups in a bowling pin formation at either end of the table and bouncing a ping pong ball into the opponents’ cups so they have to drink up. The great thing is that even if you’re not very good at it, you’ll think you are by the end due to the vast amount you will have drunk.

Other bars offered karaoke and Salsa lessons. Although I tried both, albeit unsuccessfully, I preferred the latter and still went back a few times, but if there’s ever a time to try new things, that was it – in a new place with new friends...

The final installation, Part 5, will be posted next Wednesday 17^th October as I discover Madrid and Valencia.

Las Aventuras Alicantinas – Part 3: Castillos, Costas y Ciudades

Castillo de Santa Bárbara

For most northern Europeans, the first thing that comes to mind when thinking of Spain is its high-rise coastal resorts like Benidorm. Very few people think of its cities, steeped in history and stunning architecture. Alicante boasted two castles, both near the centre of town. One castle was nothing more than graffiti-covered ruins full of empty cans of lager and cigarette butts, but the other was a larger fortress that was very much intact and stood on a piercing hill that kept watch over the city.

The paved spiral ascent from the foot of Castillo de Santa Bárbara took about 30 minutes. In the searing heat of the Spanish summer, this is not for the faint-hearted but the 360° view with fantastic views over the city, the sea, the harbour and the hills proved rewarding, so much so that towards the end of my time in Alicante, I climbed up to the castle again to see the view of the city at night.

The intimidating Benidorm skyline

Back at sea level, I was taking time to explore beyond the city as well. Benidorm was about an hour away by tram and I was keen to discover whether this town deserves the stereotype held by northern Europeans of being an ugly collection of grey block towers or whether there was some hidden beauty to it. Fortunately, the latter proved to be true. The skyline of Benidorm, particularly at the beachfront, is indeed striking, but it has one of the most beautiful beaches and harbour areas on the Costa Blanca.

Just a short walk away was a beautiful part of the town that looked more Greek than Spanish. It was a high projection into the sea that overlooked the two beaches on each side and was dominated by white and blue tiles. There were no residences or shops; rather it seemed a place for relaxation, although it was an isolated place that no one else had seemingly discovered.

The more traditional village of Altea

Further along the tramline was a small village called Altea, and this was the real Spain I’d been searching for – narrow, steep cobbled streets with white buildings overlooking the calm turquoise waters. I was quite content to spend the rest of the afternoon here.

Back in Alicante, the city itself had plenty else to explore – the vast indoor market, the impressively high fountains, the overpriced boutiques and of course the city’s two beaches. The city’s main beach, Playa de Postiguet, was practically right in front of the school and just a couple of minutes from the city centre, so I naturally spent a lot of the six weeks there. The other beach, Playa de San Juan, was about 20 minutes away by tram. It was a longer strip of coastline in a quieter location, with more room to spread out and more intense waves. With much more closed on a Sunday in Spain than back home, this is where I’d spend peaceful Sunday afternoons, usually with the friends I had made, but after many of them had left I went back on my own and spent hours enjoying the tranquillity, often forgetting the real reason I was in Spain, but what can I say? The more relaxation and fun I had out there, the more motivated I was for classes...

Part 4 will be posted next Wednesday 10^th October. Find out what a night out in Alicante is all about.