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My mother didn’t like us boasting with acquaintances, and even seem to want us in general at a certain distance from people who were supposedly well known (in fact she intelligently made us aware of the fact that people who appear very often on newspapers and whose names are constantly repeated, are nothing but images, as the real person is a very complex individual needing time and wisdom to be known.) The latter became obvious for me when class mate at the German School Madrid, María José de Lamor, made a movie with German actor Klaus Kinski (without greatest success, by the way), and was frequently interviewed at that time by newspapers that … would never say the truth. I would never trust media from then on, thought though that they were certainly making a great work in nourishing people with imaginary characters that may have a real referential, although certainly not the mentioned one. In fact, it said much more about the need of people of knowing certain characters alive, than about the real nature of the characters themselves.

I know thus really few famous people (except of Hikmet Karabulut, but it is 14 years I haven’t seen him), although I have prooved a tendency to know people who knew famous people themselves, never using of these really extravagant coincidences in order to get in touch with … characters, I prefered to follow on tv or newspapers.

The most famous I have ever known is Antonio Banderas, but this is because he wasn’t famous at all at that time. Awakening Madrid opened thousands of little bars after Franco’s death, movement called ‘la movida’, and one of them was hold by a friend of Maria Jose de Lamor’s sister, Pilar, called Lillian Gerer. She was friend with an actor who would appear in one of Almodovar’s films, the police man of ‘¿Qué he hecho yo para merecer esto?’ (What did I do to deserve that?, with magnificent Carmen Maura), and who attracted a few other then little known Almodovar actors to the surroundings of our bar called ‘La Bohemia’. Antonio Banderas, then very young, came twice or three times, and although I never talked to him, I found he was really sympathetic. To the same place came frequently quite well known Spanish singer Javier Krahe (at that time) and another whose name I always forget because I don’t like him very much, Lola Flores son Antonio did come several times, too (he died after of heroine overdosis). We even spent holidays with Krahe and others preparing their first album, but lost touch after them becoming far too famous for my mother’s taste.

In the near environment moved film director of ‘El crimen de Cuenca’, Pilar Miró, and even de la Prada, who were really, but really not that famous at that time.

Things became worse while going for studies to Paris, as the one who became my scotched University mate, Maxime Catroux, was little daughter of General Catroux, and daughter of inner architect Catroux married to Yves St Laurent muse Betty Catroux (a marvellous woman, by the way, and the only of the very snobbish people in the surroundings I enjoyed the company of: we went to eat once or twice to Sorbonne neighbour restaurant ‘Balzar’, where she was having, as always!, (Betty Catroux and Yves St Laurent) round oisters and white wine for lunch, and even came to visit us with her husband in Istanbul and stayed … at the same hotel where the last of Kennedys went for honey moon. She was really, really funny and not snob at all …). This horrible person, was thus directly linked to Andy Warhol (she had a picture with), to the Rothschilds, to painter Botero, even to Monaco family, and many others, and had even been baptized by Yves St Laurent himself.  I never made the slightest attempt to make an irruption in her social life’s circles, very much on the contrary and finally laughed when she took an appartment in black quarters near to Montmartre. Just for a year. After she went back to more snobbish environments … I’ve lost touch, by the way, after deepest quarrels concerning the criteria determining behaviour or even … misbehaviour!

A friend of mine knew even Leonard Cohen, though not very deeply and others were related to these or those, but following my mother’s instructions I rather prefered to stay far away from ‘el mundanal ruido’ (the noisy world) and hid away in the most forgotten Greek corner in the world. Consequently I didn’t know anyone at all, which has the great advantage not to be bothered with social bounderies I have rather a problem to accept.

Strangely, I do always manage to run into people accidentally who are quite highly situated, and I have rather problems to avoid such encounters: teaching at German School in Guayaquil I became teacher of children whose parents were highly positioned in Ecuadorian politics: son Daniel Noboa and son Leon Roldós. Among 2000 pupils, I had only two classes with children, and they were among. The devil tempting me in order not to follow my mother’s advice?