London 1976-81
I sold my car as I could not park it anywhere and bought myself a bicycle. During this period I continued going to English classes and my commitment to survive and improve my knowledge never left me. Other people at the Clinic or at the Hospital had different agendas and accepted cleaning jobs to enhance their pay. I had no family commitments and no need to do this. At the Clinic we had weekly pay and meals included during our working hours. This allowed us a good living and I managed to make some savings for a rainy day. I visited my parents every year in Spain and kept in close contact with my family who was faring well.
This was a good time I was by now 29 years old. My marriage intentions had always been non existent, and the idea did not rob me anytime.
Celines and I decided to look for a house and get a mortgage. (Now, in 2010, that we are suffering the global crisis I realise how wise it was not to give anyone asking for a mortgage more than three times their salary) By doing this the allowance left was just enough to survive if one was careful. Through my landlord, Mr Sarkas who was a developer, builder etc. a house was found in the vicinity of Camden Road. A freehold detached house with three floors .The purchase prise was 6000 English pounds. An elderly lady was a sitting tenant in one of the flats and the banks wanted the whole amount for this purchase. We could have put together 3800 but the rest we could not find anywhere. (This house today in 2010 is worth more than a million pounds, and the sitting tenant died two years later. Such is life!)
Assessing my life I could draw a good balance. I had been in the country 12 years and had had several jobs that gave me confidence and the ability needed to continue in my line of work, catering or domestic service. I had been on a dream holiday to Italy, I had most years a month holiday with my family, I had learnt to drive, I had bought a car, I had savings and I had found a place to leave separate from my employment. Life was much better than 12 years earlier when I left Spain with very few skills, no money or prospects.
From the London Clinic a friend of mine Marta and I, decided to postpone work and develop our Spanish education a bit further. At week ends we worked in a Wimpy Bar in Oxford Street and attended Spanish classes full time Monday to Friday for a year.
The work in the Wimpy was badly paid and we did our best to survive with tips. Customers eating in Wimpy Bars are not very prosperous and their tips were meagre, but 12 hour shift paid off, and we managed to pay our rent and had enough coins to put in the electric meter with the tips collected on Saturdays and Sundays.
We passed our "Graduado Escolar" similar to GCSEs in England and then looked for employment once more. We landed a job in St Pancras´ Hospital in the "CSSD" department. Central Sterile Supply Department. We worked from 7 to 3 and we had a good relationship with many English colleagues and a sympathetic Manager J.S St George.
St Thomas Hospital 1972-1976
I told my manager Mr Bibbins that I could not work with him and that I was leaving.
I found a job as a Supervisor in St Mary’s Hospital Paddington. St Thomas hospital was well known for good management and providing an advance catering service, and although most hospitals were run by the NHS not all had a manager like Mr Read who believed in excellence.
I found the catering department in St Mary’s very badly run, and very little interest in making improvements. The servery was in the middle of a draughty corridor and meals were plunged on plates as customers passed by. Splashes on uniforms and trays were part of the service and portion control was non existent. I decided that my training would suffer if I continued there, and I told the Catering manager as much. He immediately reported to Mr Bibbins and told him that I was not happy. Mr Bibbins demanded my return to see him in his office. He offered me a position of inferior rank, as my post in Lambeth had been taken by my friend Begoña Aberisture, and I declined to accept it.
Waterloo Station is very closed to St Thomas hospital and I was going out with a Catering Manager who run several restaurants and coffee shops in the station. He wanted to change bad practice in the restaurants he was running and saw in me a possible solution to his problems. The accommodation rooms were in Stamford Street. (Years later I would return to this very street as my final residence in London)
We had nice rooms and a chef was permanently employed to cook for us. Food was free and plenty and provided at any time we wanted it. The chef was a Spanish woman and really cared for all of us.
Celines, was placed in the kitchen and he appointed me as Restaurant Manager in this very nice restaurant in the centre of Waterloo station. It was very busy and the female waiters were all my senior and set in their ways. When a customer entered the restaurant the first one that was available would run to the door to catch the customer by the arm and without much discretion sat him/her at her table, for they had assigned tables. Naturally this and many other bad practice were not acceptable to me and I left as I could see that I was not going to change them without some radical shake-up.
Celines came running to me on the second day saying the conditions in the kitchen were appalling and she could not take it, she complained looking at her shoes fully splashed. She returned to St Mary’s and worked there for some years as a cook.
Fortunately in 1976 jobs were available and I could find several posts in one day. From the newspaper I found a position as a Domestic Supervisor in the London Clinic, and I was accepted. The staff quarters were in Noel Street, near to Oxford Circus. All very suitable and I moved into my new life.
The work in the clinic was acceptable and I was well treated. I learned a lot in the new environment and I got to know how the rich looked after themselves. Being a private clinic we had many actors and actresses. Audrey Hepburn came for a face lift in 1976 and she used her husband name Mrs Roberts. Naturally, we all knew who she was. We also had many Princesses from Saudi Arabia who rented all the rooms in a ward to keep their servants at their beck and call.
They burnt incense, sat on the floor as if they were in a tent in the dessert and covered there faces every time a male entered the room. These people never read a newspaper or magazine, they simply sat ready to serve the Princess that signalled to one of them to give a tip to whoever she fancied.
Madrid 1972
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My eldest sister was a professional dressmaker and designer. In Madrid she found a job as a dressmaker and became very successful. I was working in the boutique at the hotel and my friend Celines in a dress shop. We decided to joint forces with my sister as we were dressmakers too, and open a workshop in our luxurious flat.
We built up a very good clientele in Madrid serving the wives of important politicians, doctors and professionals. The location of our residence was an excellent opportunity for business as our clients mostly lived in the area. We developed and earned our living by working hard and long hours. Dressmaking is a very stressful and demanding job. The clients are fussy and make life very hard with trivialities. Most of these women were rich and had nothing else to do but show-off their latest model and lacked sensibility. They also came from a Fascist regime that taught them to impose authority and demand above the odds. Even the least beautiful client had very high expectation from a lapel, a "V" shape cut, a shoulder pad or the line of the trousers that had to fall from the waist to perfection.While all these demands were made on us, fashion was devising a huge surprise.
The "Pret a Porter" phenomenon arrived in earnest. The choice was spectacular, the possibilities unlimited and the freedom to see oneself in a different light was immediately at hand.
Our clientele started to decline and I could see that very soon there would not be enough work to keep us all in employment. My sister had a husband and a son and needed to stay more than me.
I decided to write to London and go back to the country that had treated me so well.
I received two working permits from my old employer at the hospital and on 16th June 1972 Celines and I took the train back to London.
My sister remained in the flat and continued for a while with reduced dressmaking business, before she rented rooms to make ends meet. My mother and father bought a flat in Colmenar Viejo, 30 kilometers away from Madrid and settled over there with my brother. My sister Tina got married and left for New York with her husband.
Madrid 1969
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I took the train and went to Seville to see my sister Lourdes and family. My intention was to find a job there but I was not lucky. At the end of August 1968 I took the train back to Madrid in order to find a job. I was 19 years old. My savings were 12,000 pesetas, a small fortune in my bank, but looking for cheap accommodation was my first priority in order to make my saving last as long as possible.
I bought a newspaper and started looking for a room in the centre of Madrid. I remember buying a map and asking the people offering rooms for the nearest tube station. I telephoned several numbers before I found one that was central and appeared to be suitable for my needs. I took a taxi from the station and arrived in Calle Barbieri. This is a street in the red district of Madrid. I was taken to a suitable room and after placing my few belongings in their rightful place I descended to the kitchen to see the atmosphere and to find out where I could have something to eat.
In there I found people of different ages and appeared to have very different professions too.One of them was a retired cabaret singer, looking at her one could tell her singing carrier was over and something else was her current employment. Another young person was facing the cooker where she was preparing her lunch. Her name was Loren. Lillian was an English teacher, Maria Jose was teaching young people in a school and Mary Carmen was working as a telephonist. That was not bad I thought, they all had decent enough jobs I had done well choosing the cheap pension.
During the following days I kept looking at adverts and telephoning companies for work. I was fortunate enough to see an advert as a sales assistant in Torrejon de Ardoz near the American Base. I made an appointment and I arrived at this alabaster factory near Plaza de Castilla. There were several people applying for the position and I wondered what my chances were. The owner Pilar a nice kind woman explained that the job was some distance away and we would be taken by car. Six of us were taken for a trial at the shop. When we got there we were mostly disappointed because it was a portakabin souvenir shop in the middle of no where. However, American pilots did purchase goods there.
Pili my friend, and head shop assistant
Apart from the normal souvenirs goods, alabaster lamps,statues and ashtrays were sold in large quantities. Pilar's brothers were good carvers of alabaster. I was told what the position entailed and I was given guidelines. An American officer entered the shop asking for an alabaster lamp, these are placed on alabaster pedestal and are lit inside. I had never seen one of these before, but I approached the ones displayed and he pointed to one of them. I took it to the counter and in English told him the price and whether he would like it packed. He nodded and took his purse out to pay me. I wrote the receipt and put the money in the till. Then this item had to be dismantled and wrapped, the pieces are heavy, after all alabaster is soft marble. -No problem, I looked at it and started taking a part. Seven pieces were ready for me to wrap in carton and tied with string. I must have done a good job, for the head sales assistant took me outside while others where interviewed and she said to me quietly, “don't worry the job is yours”. In effect it was, and the following day I was to go to Ventas station and Pili would collect me by car to my new job.
I was to be paid 8,000 pesetas. This was a very good salary at the time. Loren was a waitress and she had minimum wages plus tips, Vivian was earning 5,000 pesetas as a teacher, Mary Carmen was earning just above the minimum wage of 3,000 as a telephonist and Maria Jose, would not disclose her salary.
I would leave the house at 7.30 and go to a coffee shop to have a coffee and toast. I was "ok" now, I had a job. I then took the underground and travelled for 16 tube stations to meet with Pili in Ventas station. At 8,30 on the dot she was there waiting for me in her white Seat 600. We travelled to the outskirt of Torrejon de Ardoz before we got to a solitary camp in the vicinity of the American base. In the shop there was one young man called Ezequiel, who was to help with heavy goods, cleaning etc.
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The shop Artesanos Unidos -The owner and myself ,and Ezequiel
The shop was not very busy, but the margin in sales exceeded 300 per cent. This taught me something about sales and cost of product.
I found a flat for rent in a much better location, Quevedo. We rented a large flat with 5 bedrooms, kitchen and sitting room. It was the 5th floor and we had good views and plenty of space, no more encounters with dirty men in our street.
This flat was unfurnished. Such were the times. We had nothing, no bed or table or chairs.On Saturday those of us that were not working decided to go to the Rastro to buy beds. We had a brilliant morning bargaining and buying our first pieces of furniture, well, metal, for the beds were made from cheap aluminium. We also bought some sponge matresses that were served unwrapped and tied with a string. The next problem was how to take them home, we thought nothing better but to take the underground. Four young women,four metal beds and four sponge mattresses.
Fortunately,the tube station exit to our destination was very near to our flat and we arrived laughing and vey happy.
A few months later Vivian brought news of a flat to rent in Hernani, in Cuatro Caminos, with 5 bedrooms and much cheaper than our present one. Naturally, Quevedo is an expensive location. We moved there with our meagre possessions and improved our life style by having more money to ourselves.
My father must have guessed what was happening and decided to pay us a visit. He immediately found a small flat back in Quevedo area and installed us there with my mother. We were two sisters, one brother,our mother plus Celines who decided to come with us.
This situation was not suitable either and my father decided to return to Madrid in order to set us up as a family. He did just that. He found a beautiful flat in one of the best districts of Madrid, Barrio Salamanca. In Calle Sainz de Baranda.The flat was spacious and luxurious by our standards. We were nine people in it but we all had our space.My parents were retired and had a small pension. My eldest sister was a dressmaker and looked for a job in her profession.Isidro, her husband found a job as a Pest control worker.Tina was working as a secretary and teaching english privately.Celines continued to work as a sales assistant. Myself worked in the Hotel Puerta de Hierro as a sales assistant in a boutique. Life was busy and we all contributed to the expensive rent with our wages.
My mother and father,my eldest sister her husband and 8 year old son, my sister Tina my youngest brother, and our friend and me. (9 people)
Paris 1968
May '68 was a political failure for the protesters, but it had an enormous social impact. In France, it is considered to be the watershed moment that saw the replacement of conservative morality (religion, patriotism, respect for authority) with the liberal morality (equality, sexual liberation, human rights) that dominates French society today. Although this replacement did not take place solely in this one month, the term "mai 68" is used to refer to the shift in values, especially when referring to its most idealistic aspects.
The revolution was an intimidating situation, specially for those like me that were residing in a religious institution. The nuns were very frighten and took charge of the iron doors as their most precious possession. The right wing newspaper "France Soir"was situated directly opposite the convent, and most days we had the students and workers sporting red kerchiefs and beret demonstrating outside the newspaper building throwing stones and shouting slogans against the right wing printing press. May 68, also brought to light the issue of celibacy dispensations for priests and nuns.
1962-Pope John XXIII: Vatican Council II; vernacular; marriage is equal to virginity.
1966-Pope Paul VI: celibacy dispensations
1978-Pope John Paul II: puts a freeze on dispensations.
History of Celibacy in the Catholic Church First CenturyPeter, the first pope, and the apostles that Jesus chose were, for the most part, married men. The New Testament implies that women presided at Eucharistic meals in the early church.
Second and Third CenturyAge of Gnosticism: light and spirit are good, darkness and material things are evil. A person cannot be married and be perfect. However, most priests were married.
Fourth Century 306-Council of Elvira, Spain, decree #43: a priest who sleeps with his wife the night before Mass will lose his job.
325-Council of Nicea: decreed that after ordination a priest could not marry. Proclaimed the Nicene Creed.
352-Council of Laodicea: women are not to be ordained. This suggests that before this time there was ordination of women.
385-Pope Siricius left his wife in order to become pope. Decreed that priests may no longer sleep with their wives.
Fifth Century401-St. Augustine wrote, “Nothing is so powerful in drawing the spirit of a man downwards as the caresses of a woman.”
Sixth Century 567-2nd Council of Tours: any cleric found in bed with his wife would be excommunicated for a year and reduced to the lay state.
580-Pope Pelagius II: his policy was not to bother married priests as long as they did not hand over church property to wives or children.
590-604-Pope Gregory “the Great” said that all sexual desire is sinful in itself (meaning that sexual desire is intrinsically evil?). St. Ulrich, a holy bishop, argued from scripture and common sense that the only way to purify the church from the worst excesses of celibacy was to permit priests to marry.
Eleventh Century 1045-Pope Boniface IX dispensed himself from celibacy and resigned in order to marry.
1074-Pope Gregory VII said anyone to be ordained must first pledge celibacy: ‘priests [must] first escape from the clutches of their wives.’
1095-Pope Urban II had priests’ wives sold into slavery, children were abandoned.
Twelfth Century1123-Pope Calistus II: First Lateran Council decreed that clerical marriages were invalid.
1139-Pope Innocent II: Second Lateran Council confirmed the previous council’s decree.
Fourteenth Century Bishop Pelagio complains that women are still ordained and hearing confessions.
Fifteenth CenturyTransition; 50% of priests are married and accepted by the people.
Sixteenth Century1545-63-Council of Trent states that celibacy and virginity are superior to marriage. 1517-Martin Luther.1530-Henry VI
Seventeenth CenturyInquisition. Galileo. Newton.
Eighteenth Century1776-American Declaration of Independence.1789-French Revolution.
Nineteenth Century1804-Napoleon.1882-Darwin.1847-Marx, Communist Manifesto.1858-Freud.
1869-First Vatican Council; infallibility of pope.
Twentieth Century1930-Pope Pius XI: sex can be good and holy.
1951-Pope Pius XII: married Lutheran pastor ordained catholic priest in Germany.
1962-Pope John XXIII: Vatican Council II; vernacular; marriage is equal to virginity.
1966-Pope Paul VI: celibacy dispensations.
1970s-Ludmilla Javorova and several other Czech women ordained to serve needs of women imprisoned by Communists.
1978-Pope John Paul II: puts a freeze on dispensations
1983-New Canon Law
1980-Married Anglican/Episcopal pastors are ordained as catholic priests in the U.S.; also in Canada and England in 1994.
The Catholic church and their princes the popes have over the centuries done and undone laws that have been in most cases unreasonable and unnatural. The nuns and priests in the convent were young and full of life and expectations. They were also surrounded by youth. Being a nun or a priest does not mean you cannot appreciate beauty or desire love and being loved. It is all part of being alive. The prayer routines, the cold environment, the shock of cold water showers and the cilice that some priest wore, would only work for a while, then real life was facing you again with all the temptations and desires.
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Cilice
(this is a belt made of metal with spikes that one wears with the purpose of feeling uncomfortable and mortified and hopefully divert sexual desires)
This celibacy dispensations was a God sent message to the priests and nuns at the convent in 1968. Most of the young priests left the priesthood and got engaged to friends of mine residents in the convent. One Colette had actually had a beautiful baby with one of the priests.
The nuns apart from the old ones and the mother superior who I expect feared the outside world stayed put. The rest abandoned the convent and rented flats to enjoy their new found freedom. I met Sor Isabel one day in the street, dressed in civilian cloths, totally transformed into her new life style. She was probably as holy as when she left the convent, but it was by choice.
The convent, myself,Toñi and Sor Isabel mas dos residentes
The priests, apart from Manuel, took to civilian life with joy. Manuel, was a young priest, very good looking, who was either convinced of his principles or he belong to The Opus Dei, I am convinced it was the latter. He did wear the cilice, for one day while at the theatre his thigh was actually bleeding and it spotted his trousers, when I asked him what had happened he confessed the use of the torturous cilice.
The Opus Dei is a powerful organization and I expect he had committed completely making it more difficult for him to default. I hope he had the opportunity of deliverance in later years and managed to escape from the unrealistic ties of the church.
I continued going out with Sacha and going to the Aliance to improve my French apart from working at the reception in the convent. The nuns had a dispensary and treated the poor people of Paris with minor ailments.
One day the police came to see me at my room where I was living with Antonia. Naturally a visit from the police was very shocking and I was very upset. A note was presented to me with an appointment date at the police station in Porte de Choicy. The policeman carrying the message explained nothing.
The next day I took the train by myself to Porte de Choicy station. It was raining very hard and I had taken no umbrella. After a long walk in the rain and several directions I arrived to the Choicy police station. As soon as I entered I was taken through a long corridor. In passing I looked to the left and holding the rails of his cell I saw Sacha. He looked terrible, he had been beaten up. He looked at me in total desolation and I made signs to him questioning why,why?. He simply asked for cigarettes.
I followed this tall policemen through the long corridor until we reached an office. Another sombre looking police looked at me in amazement for I was wet, and I must have looked like a child. I did not wait for questions I demanded the reason for my being there. He was quite for a moment and then exploded with a fist on the table saying, “mademoiselle ici c'est moi que fait le question!”
I was taken aback from his intimating behaviour and sat down in silence. He started asking my name, age? Where have you met Sacha?, What is your connection with him? What do you know about him? I responded and he must have realised that I had no part in his crime and he simply said that I was in his address book and they had to interrogate me, it was routine. All questions and answers were typed with force in his typewriter. On the way out another policeman took me down and we passed by Sacha, the policeman told me quietly that he had stolen from the patients at the hospital. I am not sure he was telling me the truth because for that reason one does no beat a man in the face and make it black and blue.
I arrived at the convent where the nuns and the head priest were in conference waiting for me. The police must have rung them. I was told by the head priest that Sacha was involved in slave trade. I could hardly believe that statement for I had gone out with Sacha for eight months on a daily basis and, if that had been his intention he had had multiple opportunities to kidnap me and placed me in a haren! The head priest demanded that I return to the convent where I would be controlled and saved from him or others like him.
It was now May 68, the Spaniards were taken by especial buses back to Spain. Embassy recommendations for all Spanish citizens living in Paris and France. For me arrangements were made to take a blind nun back to Madrid.During the journey I had many doubts and questions in my mind that I was never going to get an answer to, it was an episode in my life that I had to put behind me as soon as possible.
1968 in Seville with my nephew and niece