In the latest issue of The Atlantic Monthly, an American ex-pat living in Spain describes her experience attending an immersion course in Basque country:
A blond woman whose name I can’t pronounce points to a bottle as she pours each student a glass and says, with exaggerated clarity, “Ardoa” (“wine”). It’s the first word I learn at this barnetegi, or Basque-language immersion school, and its ordinariness comes as a relief. Until now, as an American living in Spain, the only Basque words I’d managed to glean have to do with violence and power: ertzaintza (“police”), kale borroka (“street violence”), etarra (“terrorist” or “freedom fighter,” depending on your point of view). The media use the words every time an arrest, a demonstration, or an assassination—there was one in September—takes place.