what they never told you in brokeback mountain.. odlok   In 1991 I went to Boise State University in the capital of Idaho to study for a year. That was my intention anyway. I have hardly any memories of anything about my first week in the beautiful Boise. No good memories I should say. Because I can certainly recall the fear I felt. I had put my name down on the list for a room at the university and had to spend three days waiting in a crumby motel room regretting I had decided to go there for a year. It’s common knowledge that in the last century many Basque immigrants had been welcomed to Idaho. And here was I, the luxury scaredy-cat tourist, well, I light out for my on as soon as I could. They welcomed me with open arms. On the few occasions I ventured forth from my motel room, I jumped on my recently-purchased bicycle and peddled down to a bar called Gernika. I was three years short of 21 and the strongest stuff I could drink was beer made that stuff the Smurfs used to eat: sarsaparilla. It happened on my third or fourth visit to the Gernika bar. A man who looked like Willie Nelson, sitting at the bar, touched the rim of his baseball cap with his index finger as he greeted me.
- Where are you from son?
- From the Basque Country… I answered proudly.
- Oh, the Basque Country, where the men are men... and the sheep are scared!
Me and my Basque-ness shut up pretty quick.
Two days later they told me I had a room in the athletes’ dorm. I left the motel as quickly as my legs would carry me (motel rooms look great... in films) and headed over to the university offices. They gave me some papers to sign and I noticed that where they had a box for Nationality, they had put Portugal. I didn’t say a word. Just in case. Seeing what kind of name basques had in that town, I didn’t think being Portuguese for a year was such a bad idea after all.