John Glenn? Quien es?

MADRID, SPAIN — A recent edition of Spain's liberal daily newspaper, "El País," presented this opinion regarding the case of Augusto Pinochet, ex-dictator of Chile recently retained in England to be tried in Spain for crimes of genocide:

"North Americans, very stubborn in general towards international initiatives about which they do not have complete control, see in the Spanish and British intervention the type of arrogance that they are so frequently accused of from Europe."

This is a sentiment that, as much as we North Americans may counterattack with indignation, seems to ring at least somewhat true as far as Spaniards are concerned.

The US cultural invasion has been taking place in Spain continuously since the mid-1970's. American movies, television shows, clothing fads, breakfast cereals, you name it, hold an ever-present sway over the Spanish public. Thus it comes as no surprise that when the United States launched eight astronauts into space in late October, one of whom was 77-year-old John Glenn, the first man to orbit the earth in 1962, and another of whom was Pedro Duque, a skinny young Spanish scientist, that Spain would all but ignore "Grandpa" (as they refer to John Glenn) and rally around their first Spanish space hero.

While Americans have been bored by shuttle launches since the early '70s, Spain had flown into a frenzy over Pedro, sending his entire family, the mayor of Madrid, Prince Felipe of Spain, hoards of Spanish reporters and a representative of Spain's answer to gonzo political journalism, "Caiga Quien Caiga" ("Fall Whomever Falls") to watch the launch and party Spanish-style in Cape Canaveral.

The launch itself, coinciding quite well with Spanish primetime newscasts, was inescapable in Spain. While CNN International showed John Glenn retrospectives and interviewed the proud principal of John Glenn High School, Spanish TV eavesdropped on Prince Felipe's last-minute phone call to Pedro ("Hello, Pedro? Yes, this is the Prince.") and learned that Pedro's two-year-old daughter had been lead to believe that her Papá was off "discovering other planets" and would bring one back for her.

Ahh... such is the innocence of the Mediterranean, you may think, where the concept of an astronaut still conjurs up the image of little green men with big metal helmets. But this, frankly, is not the case. While Americans, living in the Land of Too Many Famous People, wave off John Glenn as a publicity stunt and focus their attention on fighting with Congress about the president, Spaniards embrace Pedro Duque as a national hero and tell Clinton jokes at any opportunity (the latest: Why do they call Bill Clinton "Don Quijote"? Because he's The Man of La Mancha... "La Mancha" means "The Stain.").

When the chance to ignore America and Americans crops up, like in the case of Pinochet and Pedro Duque, Spaniards eagerly grab it. They've seen one too many dubbed episodes of "Family Matters" and read just about enough about Antonio Banderas's new life in Hollywood to care all that much about an old guy who's already been to space, when Spain finally has a crack at it for the first time.

There is a certain conventional pride in seeing Pedro Duque seated next to John Glenn in a fuzzy uplink to the Discovery in orbit, rattling off space tidbits in his native tongue while Glenn smiles blankly, unable to share in this very Spanish moment. And while the editorial cartoons depicting flying chorizos in the shuttle make light of the situation, it is very apparent that Spaniards share in the sentiment of their Prince Felipe, who hoisted the first of many glasses of champagne in Florida saying "Va por Pedro!" ("This one's for Pedro!").

— Sara J. Brenneis (sara at flakmag dot com)