A village rescued by biting dogs(Dill McLain) It was one of the first very hot summer days. Shortly after noon, the air shimmered with heat. All doors and windows were closed to prevent the heat reaching the farthest corners and niches of the whitewashed houses. All shops were closed, they closed earlier in the day. The church door was closed. The small bank was closed. The small supermarket was closed. And the door to the Office of the Mayor was closed too. Everything was closed. Not a single person was to be seen. A strange aura was hanging over the rooftops. The village suffered its most terrible day. It was like the pause before a tsunami.

It had all started at ten in the morning. A convoy of ten police cars stormed into the main square and parked in a row. Men in the uniform of the regional police and fully armed jumped out of the cars. After some short commands issued by an officer from the front car, they disappeared with strong strides in groups in five different directions. Four groups disappeared into the various streets leading from the square into the village. One smaller group went directly to the church. Two groups were waiting in the square in ready position. The chief spoke into a mobile phone and gave short commands.

The Mayor of the village, as well as his deputy and two assistants, had been the first to be arrested on charges of corruption, abuse of office and of money, money that belonged to others. The two office apprentices and the female trainee had sat there with open mouth, not understanding what was going on. Armed policemen had escorted their two bosses plus the two assistants, all in handcuffs, out of the house. The Mayor and his deputy had a mocking smile on their faces, but it was the smile of criminals caught in the act, the smile of delinquents who had somehow always known that their dirty actions one day would be discovered, while the two assistants were close to tears, both looking down in shame. The two apprentices and the female trainee were instructed to maintain the office, until support from the provincial capital arrived.

The Rector of the local school, as well as his right hand man, had been arrested half an hour later because of corruption and misappropriation of money. They had just been having coffee in the Rector’s room, and discussing the upcoming celebration marking the end of the semester with the music teacher of the school. The music teacher was instructed by the police to take over as head of the school. He had stood there with great astonishment on his face, looking down at his shoes, first right, then left, finally shaking his head again and again, totally incredulous. Then he had sat down, had put his elbow on the table, supporting his head with one hand, and had remained there just staring. While the armed police had escorted the Rector and his right hand man, both in handcuffs, out of the schoolhouse. In all classrooms, the students had crowded at the windows, pressing their noses against the windowpanes, watching the whole miserable scene. No movement, no word, no sound.

At about the same time, the two managers at the local construction office had been arrested on charges of corruption and abuse of office as well as misuse of funds. A young worker, who had been present, was instructed to take over responsibility and to stop all financial business activities, until further orders.

In parallel with these arrests, the head of the local police and his right hand man, along with two young local police assistants, had appeared on the main square, all with a hand on their weapon, asking what was going on. The waiting regional police crew had arrested the rather snooty local chief and his right hand man on the spot, also for corruption and severe abuse of authority. The responsibility had been placed in the hands of the young local policewoman, who had obviously been very pleased about it, saluted the regional police chief, turned and left with her colleague.

A bit later the head of the supermarket had been arrested on charges of corruption, abuse of office and obscure transactions. He was led away in handcuffs with his head facing the ground, ashamed. The two women plus two helping youngsters, who had to fill the shelves, on one hand had been totally shocked, but on the other hand were laughing and giggling. The slightly older of the two women had been asked to take over the management.

The smaller group of policemen had found the priest in the church praying in front at the altar, in front of a group of old women, who used to come every other day with large donations. The priest had probably been expecting what was going to happen now. Maybe even for several days, or weeks, or even longer. He had looked at the policemen with absolute disgust on his face, and then had looked up to Jesus on the cross, then back at the policemen. He then had stretched out his hands, looking at a large painting of the Virgin Maria, while the police had put him in handcuffs. The old women in the front row had erupted into screams and loud weeping, as they had been asked to leave the church and go home. They had been comfortingly told that soon a new priest would take over.

Finally, the largest group of regional policemen had arrested the entire staff of the local bank, except for the young apprentice who had just finished his apprenticeship with very good results. The three bankers, all in smart suits, and with the most modern hairstyles, had shown faces full of anger, while being led in handcuffs out of the bank. Also they must have been well aware for several weeks what would happen at some point. They were arrested on charges of corruption and misappropriation of funds, squandering of funds, as well as mismanagement on a large scale. There were only a few old banknotes left in the safe. All the money that the local inhabitants had deposited with the bank, was gone, spent, gambled and embezzled. In addition, the village had apparently taken over huge debts, caused by the bankers and by order of the Mayor. In fact there had been for quite some time no more money reserves, for almost a year.

Shortly after the regional police cars with their important cargo of criminals had left the main square, one could hear everywhere whining and cursing, loud palaver and in many places also terrible outcries and heart rending howling. Everybody had followed the events, hidden behind curtains and shutters or doors that were open slightly ajar, the incredible exodus of the leading elite of their so heavily damaged village, led away in handcuffs and escorted by armed police.

The processions of these culprits from different directions to the main square were reminiscent of representations in very old paintings or illustrations from medieval times when unfortunates were hauled to the village square in chains.

Then one could hear doors and windows slamming and the rattle of blinds. Inside some houses the whining and crying went on, in many places well into the night. Elsewhere, there was dead silence.

Only in one house there was great activity: The wife of the arrested Mayor of the village lost her composure and mind for a long moment. She screamed like a wounded animal. Then she ran to the large wardrobe, opened the doors and stared at her massive collection of outrageously expensive handbags in all colours and sizes. Continuously screaming she threw them all down, so that in the end she was almost buried in her handbags. Then she got up and walked to the window leading to the main square, and began to throw all her handbags in a wild action out of the window. Later she proceeded with her equally expensive shoes. Finally she stood on the windowsill, loudly announcing her intention to jump down, when the wife of the arrested deputy Mayor rushed into the room and pulled her down from the windowsill. She fell to the ground lamenting. The arrested vice Mayor’s wife yelled at her to shut up and listen. Then said in a loud voice, both arms supported on her hips: ‘Why the hell are you now freaking out? He’s gone, and will be safely contained for many years! You’ve always complained that he was cheating on you with younger starlets, so did mine. Now we have got rid of them, and we should not freak out. On the contrary, now we should do something worthwhile instead of collecting handbags!’ Then she ordered the maid who was so far helplessly standing around, to prepare a drink for the wife of the arrested Mayor. It was a special calming liquid, and then they let her fall into a deep sleep on the ground, resting on a mountain of cushions.

Then complete silence fell over the village. The village was bankrupt. What many thought and feared for more than a year, was now the naked truth. Its leading elite had taken everything for themselves until the last coin. Greedy and ruthless.

On the main square under the huge trees sat the old men as usual on the large stone benches in the shade. But they did not talk nor discuss, as they normally used to do all day long. No, they sat there with pale faces, sad eyes, broken hearts, bent over or completely slumped together, some leaning on their walking sticks. Most of them wept silently. The village – their village - was leached - completely bled. Their village was dying.

Miles, the music teacher, still sat there in the Rector’s room, staring into the air. He was an elegant man with shoulder-length hair that he usually wore tied behind his neck in a ponytail. He almost always wore jeans and a long dark shirt. Around his neck he wore a leather strap with an engraved medallion in front. He had brown, very friendly looking eyes in a well-modelled face. And he played absolutely wonderfully saxophone, everyone in the village knew it, and he was highly respected by young and old. His real name was different, but he was called Miles since he was a little boy, because he admired Miles Davies, the legendary trumpet player. His godfather mixed up the instruments and bought him a saxophone for his fifth birthday, instead of a trumpet. And so he learned saxophone playing and later stayed with this instrument. He invented a new style of flamenco, the saxophone performing with a singer, sometimes in dialogue, sometimes together. It was a very attractive and great kind of flamenco singing along with a saxophone. He performed with his school friend Julian, a baker who sung flamenco since childhood, and who was running the local bakery. Miles also had remarkable organizational skills, and therefore always was in charge of organizing upcoming festivals and celebrations. He'd lived since a few months together with Marcia, a pretty woman, who was about to set up a sewing studio, in the large farm house which he inherited from his parents who had decided to move to a very small village on the coast for the second part of their lives. Miles and Marcia had met at a festival in the village. She came from another village to visit her aunt and family. It was love on first sight, like a lightning strike.

After staring for about fifty minutes into the air, Miles got up and left. At home he took his saxophone, walked over to his studio in the barn, climbed up to the upper level, where he had installed a tiny balcony, and played for over an hour without a break the most tragic and passionate music. He blew everything out of his lungs into the saxophone and from there out into the world.

Then he took his mobile phone and made a number of phone calls. He called Julian, the baker, and just said: ‘I need your help, please come to the barn at two and bring a load of sandwiches!’ He called his sister at the supermarket: ‘I need your help, please come at two to the barn, and bring some bottles of red wine!’ Then he called the bank, the police office, the construction office as well as the Mayor’s office, and asked the young people now in charge there since this morning to come to the barn at two. And finally, he called the young veterinarian, who lived in the village since half a year with the intention to open a veterinary practice, but then did not get the necessary funds from the bank and therefore got stuck with his project halfway.

Shortly before two o’clock the group of young people gathered at the barn. Miles gave a welcome speech. ‘My friends, I called you all to come together, because our village suffered today the saddest day in its long history. You all know exactly what has happened. Our village, in which most of us were born, is ruined. Our beloved village is about to die!’

At this point, Miles paused for a moment and let those last words echo in the ears of those present. Several had tears running down their cheeks. Handkerchiefs were pulled out.

Then Miles continued with an insistent tone: ‘But we will not let that happen ! We will fight ! We present here will sit together and draw up a crisis plan, and find a solution ! And we start right now !’

While distributing note paper and pencils he instructed: ‘We will now form three groups of two, and for the next hour these groups will work out a list of all the problems of the village, and a list of everything we have and could use. Get to work !’

The three groups moved to separate corners, and began to work, in a low whisper. Miles started his computer and began to write his notes for the protocol. Then he wrote a message via email to the provincial government headquarters, informing that the village – after the numerous arrests of that morning – had formed a new leading group and were setting up a rescue plan for the resurrection of the village, and would be pleased to get some basic financial support, that he and his colleagues hoped would be given as soon as possible.

At three o’clock Miles asked the groups to present their results.

The outcome was dreadful, dramatic and heart shaking. On the positive side, there was almost nothing, apart from fig trees, olive trees, almond trees, and the will to do something to save the village. There were a number of old unused buildings and factories, where one could plan some new business. However, without money, it was a fairy tale. There were, no doubt, people with skills and ideas in the village, however, without money nothing was possible. On the other hand, there was a long list of problems. And top item of the list was, and all group listed it equally, the waste and littering around the village and in the large ravine. People used to come from other villages or towns to deposit their garbage. The village seemed to be their regional waste dump, and if nothing would be done, they all would perish in the waste one-day soon. Another problem was the many stray dogs living in the area. Dogs which were no longer wanted by their owners, were transported near to their village and set free, and thus left to survive on the streets. The village had a bad reputation regarding the littering around the village, and hardly ever any tourist stopped, despite the fact that there were several attractive buildings and an ancient washing place to be seen. But with this bad reputation, it was impossible to attract tourists from the coast, nor any groups or families who would come here to celebrate their birthdays, anniversaries or weddings. It all seemed hopeless and lost.

The young man who just had finished his apprenticeship at the bank stood up and asked Miles if he could say something. Miles nodded, and the young man started to talk:

‘We have tons of garbage and countless stray dogs, according to the reports of the groups, the only things of which we have an abundance, unfortunately on the negative side. So, we have to do something with these two elements, and I have an idea for a start up. We train a small group of 3-4 suitable dogs, so that they chase waste tourists and bite them in the butt. We will teach them to snarl like in a hunting movie. The ones who deposit their garbage will have to pick up their waste, put it back in their cars, also pick up some of the other garbage, and take it all with them. We will film these scenes, and show the videos for entertainment twice a week on Fridays and Saturdays in the local tavern against a modest entrance fee. This will bring some income, along with the consumption. It will be a highlight and people from the surrounding villages, perhaps even from the coast, will come to see the garbage criminals. We, of course, have to renovate the tavern. I am convinced this can be done with what we have. It just needs new paint, nice tablecloths, some decor, and a short menu list with a few simple but delicious local dishes. In a crisis one cannot stop everything, and only serve coffee and water. To get up, one must move, take a step, and invent something. Also, people need some entertainment. I am confident that the snarling dogs and the waste will serve as a perfect start up !’

The young man sat down and everyone stared at him in astonishment. Despite the serious situation, Miles could not hide his amusement about this wild idea.

The door was flung open and the wife of the arrested Mayor and the wife of the arrested deputy Mayor rushed into the room. ‘We also want to help!’ exclaimed the wife of the arrested Mayor, and continued without hesitation: ‘We find the situation caused by our husbands to be shocking. We two will open a second-hand boutique, to start we will collect from the homes of those arrested the expensive clothes and things acquired with the embezzled money, and put it all together at sale at low prices! We have enough Internet contacts from our buying days that we can invite to our selling days. Later then, we will regularly organize a flea market with used goods, and also sell new articles which we buy in, as well as local specialities and crafts.’

After a deep breath she went on: ‘We have been listening outside with our ear to the door, sorry for that. We will help renovating and redecorating the restaurant with stuff from our own houses, and we will form a group of female and male cooks who will voluntarily work in shifts in the restaurant, and prepare dishes according to a collection of local recipes. We will start immediately. The restaurant will reopen next Saturday!’

‘And the idea with the butt-biting dogs chasing waste sinners is absolutely top, we two vote for it!’ She and her colleague smiled into the round of perplexed faces, bowed and left the room.

Miles and his group sat for a moment in silence there. Somehow, a tiny bit of fresh air or even sunlight, perhaps even light, came into the tragic session. And then the young veterinarian said: ‘OK, I take over the training of the dogs. I will select a few appropriate ones and train them together with some helpers whom I will recruit. All the remaining stray dogs will later be collected and put in a dog’s home, but that comes in a next step after we organize a feeding arrangement. For the training I need a few days. You must know, I originally wanted to become a circus artist, but my parents did not like it. But secretly I attended various courses in animal training. And I know now, this had not been in vain!’

The young banker, who had brought up the whole idea, joyfully added: ‘And I will take care of the filming part, together with some colleagues !’

Now somehow came a light thread of hope into the whole scenario. The projects born in these last minutes, even if they were yet merely a few and even if one could not know about their prosperity or positive outcome, gave everyone uplift.

Miles gave a sign to serve the sandwiches the baker had brought. Wine bottles were opened. The baker also had brought two delicious fig cakes. The group sat around the large table and while eating and drinking, quite a good mood came up with many more ideas. Everybody had new input and energy seemed to grow by the minute. Miles took notes, made phone calls and gave order to take this or that step, but he also received many phone calls offering help or asking what one could contribute, as the wife of the arrested Mayor was talking to every soul she could encounter motivating incessantly: ‘We need every hand, please join !’

The young man left in charge of the local construction office drew up a list of historical buildings or sites that could be brushed up, and thus be potential visiting targets for future tourists. There was an old mine, two olive oil factories plus a vinegar factory, an ancient and very picturesque washing place dating back to the Moorish times, a ruinous but very romantic small mill just a bit outside of the village, and a plague commemorative column where people had been tortured during the Inquisition, as well as three very old village houses still showing the original structure of old times. With some effort all these buildings and sites could be restored, and these projects could be put into the hands of the older generation, all the men sitting day in and day out on the main square under the trees. Two young men were in charge to collect from all households any material that could be used for this renovation work, and to set up a kind of a storehouse.

For one olive oil factory, the young banker brought up a project that he did not want to explain in detail right now, because some money was needed, but which would be a highlight, he was convinced. The said factory belonged to his grandfather, and he would talk to him and sort out things.

Furthermore, Miles informed that the celebration of the end of the semester at the school would take place as planned, with the change that he himself would deliver the Rector’s speech. He also informed that the provincial government would send a new priest, at least this was promised. He thanked the group and suggested to meet again on next Saturday at two.

From this moment on, the village began to awake, to stand up, and to rise from the ashes, and to re-bloom.

Suddenly, at every corner and communal place there were brisk activities going on, cleaning, brushing, washing, sorting out, collecting, transporting. Walls and doors were repainted throughout the village, everywhere people were standing on ladders, smiling and full of paint, but happy to help the building of a new future. An incredible spirit arose. People who had not smiled for years, showed a shy smile. The grandmothers of the village hung up again those famous curtains with lace inserts, and the windowsills were decorated with nice plants and pots, as in old times. They had all been taken away during the times that the former city leaders had declared them to be old fashioned. All the beautifully tiled corridors and doorways were thoroughly cleaned, and the main doors were open again during the day, so that visitors could admire the wonderful tiles and charming patios. People worked day and night for their village.

By Friday, the village already shone in a new light, and smiled. It was amazing what one could do in four days, and there followed more days full of diligent work. The picturesque washing place with Moorish past – that for infinite time had remained neglected and unappreciated - began to be a real jewel. It would undoubtedly be a highlight for tourists. The local tavern, which for more than two years no longer served local food, but just offered cold drinks and olives or chips like everywhere else in the ‘modern business’ world, and really looked sad, grey and dusty, was now in the hands of five young people who volunteered to make it fit again. The wife of the arrested Mayor supervised the project, and gave them free hand, but stopped by sporadically. After four days, all walls were repainted, with a different colour around the windows, which gave the building a very friendly and almost antique look. Wooden and iron decorations were thoroughly cleaned, it was once again a proud and welcoming tavern. Inside hard work was still going on. The team was fully engaged with cleaning, rearranging and decorating. Another team, all amateur cooks, was at work in the kitchen, cleaning and restructuring and already preparing a short menu list with local specialities.

On Friday evening, Miles and the young banker went on a tour through the village to check the progress. When they finally came to the main square, they could hardly believe what they saw: on the terrace of the tavern sat a group of about twelve bikers, happily eating tapas snacks from large plates, and toasting with wine. Their bikes leaned nicely lined up under the trees next to the benches where usually the old men of the village sat, but who were now all busy somewhere in the village. The arrested Mayor’s wife appeared smiling on the doorstep and gave Miles a sign to come in. She then explained full of enthusiasm: ‘The bikers came by, saw the tavern in the new look as well as the chairs and tables outside that we had placed just an hour before, and asked for snacks and wine. They already have reserved for dinner on the day of reopening. The main course will be ‘cabra’, after an old Moorish recipe. They live on the coast in one of the big hotels, and they will celebrate their last day of vacation here in our tavern !’

‘But where did you get all the wine and ‘pata negra’ from ?’ asked Miles, and raised both eyebrows. The arrested Mayor’s wife smiled and rocked her head: ‘We have brought all reserves from the cellars of those arrested, and we have a great selection of food, come and see, I’ll show you !’ And she pulled the two men through the hallway to the next room, which was transformed into a bar. The two could not stop staring. A wonderful diverse selection of all smart bottles of different Whiskeys to a wide variety of liqueur up to expensive Cognacs of famous brands. Then the wife of the arrested Mayor showed them the wine cellar, which was huge, but already half-filled with the most delicious wines, all neatly sorted and stored. And in another room hung many rows of sausages and over twenty huge pieces of ham of the famous sort ‘pata negra’, it was amazing, all taken from the cellars of the embezzlers. The arrested Mayor’s wife said amused: ‘We even have large portions of canned caviar, maybe we organize once a Russian evening !’ And she burst into peals of laughter. And to give the two astonished men the rest, she added dryly: ‘And we have not yet brought all the wine reserves the pastor had stored under the church !’

She complimented Miles and the banker as they went back to the bar, and served them an expensive cognac. A bit later came shouts of joy from the terrace. The cooks had brought two large plates with most delicious looking almond cake, baked after an old recipe. The bikers ate everything up to the last crumb, and gave loud compliments. One of the cooks also brought Miles and the banker each a piece of this almond cake, and mentioned: ‘We have prepared more as reserve, this will be one of our famous desserts on the menu !’

On Saturday at two, the group met again. This time the atmosphere was very different. It looked more like a cool business meeting than an emergency meeting of a self-made rescue group trying to find solutions to get out of a terrible disaster. The group was enlarged by a representative of the old men from the main square, by a female representative of the African citizens, and by a representative of the young generation, who all brought in a lot of very good ideas for numerous new projects. Among the new ideas were the creation of a football field and a volleyball court in the open area outside the village, a bocce court behind the tavern, and a rustic Hostal in one of the former olive oil factories. Until this last project was finished, a local family owning two large houses, one of them unoccupied, since the banks refused funds for renovations, would reinstall the empty house within a short time, so that the village soon had ten guest rooms available.

After presenting the reports and discussing the next steps as well as the new projects, the veterinarian and the banker set up the movie screen. As a surprise they already presented the first two short videos filmed during the two last nights showing scenes with littering men pursued by the owned dogs of the veterinarian. In both cases, garbage tourists came by car late at night, parked under the trees, and without hesitating and without looking left or right, they pushed out their waste in several large plastic bags over the side of the road down into the ravine. But then, before they could climb back into the car, a phantom voice called out from behind the trees, called them back, and the huge dogs of the veterinarian ran towards them. They were extremely irritated by the giant dogs growling. Then the phantom voice ordered: ‘Pick up your garbage at once, and leave immediately, otherwise the dogs will bite your behinds !’

In the first film, the litterer immediately picked up the garbage bags deposited just moments before, and carried them headshaking back to the car, where he threw them frantically in the trunk. He had to go twice and kneel down, in order to reach two bags that had slipped further down into the ravine. The dog did not leave his side, and growled the whole time. Then the phantom voice said: ‘And we do hope that you’ll never come back again with your garbage, otherwise the police will pick you up, but before that we will let our dogs play with you !’ The man slammed the car door and drove away quickly. The second man was arrogant and walked back to his car, ignoring the phantom voice and the dog. Just when he raised his foot and bent down slightly to move into his seat, the dog jumped up on his back with a horrible growl, and pulled with its teeth on his jacket. The man was shocked and fell backwards to the ground. And then he also obeyed the phantom voice, and collected his garbage laboriously again, and put it back into his car. The dog watched him, panting and growling, until everything was back in the car again.

The watching group laughed tears. The two videos were absolutely entertaining. To round off the evening, an elderly lady came in with a group of eight youngsters, four girls and four boys. They carried an old record player along, and then presented two dances to old folk music, which belonged to the traditional culture of the region. The lady announced that the plan was to present once or twice a month these dances in the main square and then invite tourists to participate. All found this idea super, and Miles promised to reorganize the music group which had been dissolved when the now-arrested former city leaders had deemed it ‘old-fashioned’.

The next meeting was set for ten in the morning on Wednesday of the coming week, the day of the official reopening of the tavern.

On Sunday, Miles sat with his partner Marcia at breakfast, enjoying some private time, after these very hectic days full of work and stress from morning until late night. His phone rang, and the baker informed him that no priest had arrived, but the church was almost full with people.

Miles arrived at the church, entered through the main door and walked along the corridor between the rows of benches to the front, greeting people left and right. Then he placed himself in front of the Altar, gave the young man who played the organ a sign and whispered something. The young man started to play and Miles collected his thoughts.

Then he gave a passionate speech about what had happened, how the village had had to suffer, had been bleeding and had been dying, because a row of inhuman greedy persons had taken everything for themselves. Ruthlessly and shamelessly, criminally and cruelly stolen from the community. Without regard for their neighbours, and with an ice-cold attitude putting it all into their own pockets, and letting all others exposed to the risk to starve. Leaving everyone else without a future, destroying the past of the village, killing our village ! Miles paused at this point, and blew his nose. Many in the church wept large tears, holding their handkerchief to their face. The young man at the organ intuitively started to play a very nice and slow piece, which made the thoughts of everyone present wander through the words they had just heard.

Then Miles continued: ‘We will not let that happen, no, we will not let our village perish because of a gang of corrupt and criminal exploiters ! On the contrary, we will get up and help, every single member of this village will actively help, to make our village one of the most beautiful and successful in the region. We will not only survive, but also be an example for the region, and thus give hope and motivation to many other places! It will be a lot of work, but our village deserves it!‘

The audience jumped up and everyone applauded with shiny eyes and faces full of hope and joy. The young organist played a famous folk song from the region normally for guitar and tambourine, and the congregation sang all together many verses; louder, happier and increasingly cheerful.

The next two days were again full of work everywhere. The whole village seemed to be in action, it was a real pleasure. And all those who had jobs in other places, came home in the evening, and found new things established, communal places and houses cleaned, renovated and refurbished, and interesting projects innovated.

On Wednesday, the group met again at ten. The many reports were presented. And it was a pleasure to note all these successful details. For the great reopening of the tavern in the evening, everything was ready, and there would be snacks and drinks served for all who would join in on the main square.

The reopening of the tavern started at eight thirty. Apart from the group of bikers there were twenty other tourists from the coast sitting at reserved tables, following an entry in the social-media internet networks as organized by the young banker, advertising the events in the village. At the other tables sat local people, and the whole plaza was full of local people and people from the surrounding villages. Old wine barrels served as bar tables. After dinner, the dance group performed, and then all were invited to dance along, wherever they just sat or stood. The orchestra with a rotating cast, young students, old men as well as lady singers, all under the expert direction of Miles. The tourist guests were happy and consumed a lot, which of course filled the cash box.

As a highlight of the reopening, the videos of waste sinners were presented, in the restaurant and outside on the large square on a big screen. The two very first videos with the dogs owned by the veterinarian, and then two new videos from the two previous nights with three newly trained dogs. The audience roared with laughter and applauded wildly after the first two videos. Some people from nearby villages even recognized the garbage criminals and suggested to show the videos on the social-media internet networks.

And the next two videos were so special that people could hardly stop laughing. In one scene, there was a woman who eventually ran away and left her car back there at the side of the ravine. She disappeared into the dark with the barking and biting dogs following her. One could hear her screaming. Then, she suddenly reappeared on scene, constantly stammering: ‘Yes, yes, I will pick it up, I will pick it up, sure, sure !’ while she was staring all the time towards the phantom voice giving instructions. And she picked up the wrong garbage by not paying attention to what she picked up. This motivated the young hobby actor, a friend of the banker and the phantom voice in the video, to give her new orders: ‘Now you will descend down into the ravine and pull up the next two sacks of garbage !’ The woman crawled on her backside down into the ravine, and with grimaces on her face grabbed two more plastic bags full of waste that were half torn, and pulled them with great effort up into the street. The phantom voice ordered: ‘Now upload these bags in your car, hurry, hurry, the dogs are hungry !’ The dogs followed her at every turn, panting and gasping into the air, and strongly growling. The woman finally loaded the additional trash in her car and drove away, with rear car doors still open.

The second video showed a very elegantly dressed man of about forty years. He came in a heavy off-roader car, and began to unload three large garbage bags as well as numerous tins and a metal grid, obviously part of an old fence. The phantom crew waited until he had thrown everything out of the car. As he walked back, and was intending to lift his foot to get into the car, three dogs came running, barking loudly and snapping at his trousers, he turned around and stood petrified. The dogs panted and stared, then the phantom voice from behind the trees welcomed him, and told him to load all that he just had deposited, back into his car. The largest dog stood up on his hind legs and put his front legs on the man’s chest, barking wildly into his face. The man then moved forward, the dogs let him stand, and he went to find his deposited garbage, carried it all arduously back to his car, and loaded all again. The dogs remained always at his side, constantly growling. Then the phantom voice commanded: ‘Well my dear, now we pick up some of the other garbage lying around, there is a lot of empty space in your expensive off-roader car, let us fill it !’ The elegant litterer was close to tears, the dogs snapped growling at his jacket and trousers, and finally he crawled on his butt down into the ravine, with a terrible facial expression, and began to collect some other waste, crawled painfully up to the street and carried the load to his car. He went back twice. He seemed to be close to exhaustion, and his clothes were dirty from top to bottom. Then the dogs were called back, and waited at a certain distance. And the elegant dirty waste sinner drove away as fast as he could.

The subsequent auctioning of five memory sticks containing these videos was a great success. They were all sold within seconds and for very high amounts. And there was a great demand for video discs, so that the film crew indicated that they could produce such.

Two older men climbed on stage, accompanied by a young man with a guitar and another one with a wooden cube drum. The four performed flamenco singing, and the two old men sung heartbreaking verses, in certain parts many of the locals joined in. Besides the traditional laments there were some new songs in the local patois about garbage criminals and the butt-biting dogs. Singing and dancing went on until two in the morning.

This evening of reopening the tavern brought quite a lot of money into the coffers, and motivated the hope of all people for a better future. From now on, with many things changing but slowly the village flourished again.

The tavern was fully booked on most evenings, especially on weekends, so that the terrace had to be enlarged. The word had got around to neighbouring communities and many tourists stopped for lunch or dinner, strolled around and visited the renovated old highlights of the village. From the coast guests came regularly for dinner, and to participate in the folk dancing on Fridays. Many hotels on the coast offered this as a special excursion program with bus transport. On the coast was more of a beach life, so that the village offered a welcome break with the wonderful aura of rural life, together with glorious history and festive traditions. A small boutique with regional clothes and local leather articles was opened, as well as a tiny shop with local food specialities, such as the famous sausages, the delicious fig bread, the healthy goat cheese, the wonderful tasting olive spread, the delicious almond cake, and much more.

The young banker, who until then hardly ever had to provide any banking services, because of the empty accounts, devoted all his time to organize new projects, and was also acting as sort of a tourist agent. But now and then he had again some real banking business to handle. New bank accounts were opened, small sums of money were deposited so that investments could be made and he offered micro-credits to local people who came with a project and wanted to start a small business. Soon he was able to hire an assistant.

The construction office had their hands full with new work, day and night, and from nearby villages came requests for advice. This brought quite a lot of revenue, and soon more employees were recruited.

The tavern enlarged its team considerably. In an old barn outside the village, a banquet facility was set up for romantic weddings and other celebrations, where the organizers could let the guests arrive in horse-drawn carriages.

The local police station needed more local police officers because of the shift work, the many tourists and all the activities going on in the village, as well as traffic control, provision of parking, and garbage police to advise the nearby communities about permitted and illegal garbage dumping.

The Friday dance evenings were very successful, and there were always a lot of people from neighbouring villages coming. There was a lively exchange of musicians and dancers and a reestablishment of lost local culture. The monotonous, colourless culture of wellness and excellence imposed during the reign of the previous leaders was slowly being overtaken by a culture with meaning for everybody.


And the garbage was completely cleaned up by the end of the second month. There were thirty-three videos filmed, which for many months and then years brought endless pleasure and laughter in the main square and in the tavern, especially on weekends. The garbage dogs were very talented, top notch trained by the veterinarian, and worked in great harmony, and without ever hurting any of the numerous waste terrorists. The last video scenes were very special and a culmination of the whole project: The ground of the ravine, where truly year-old piled up garbage had accumulated and now eradicated, had to be thoroughly cleaned, and this was exclusively performed by the arriving garbage perpetrators. Dogs and perpetrators had to crawl down and climb up, cumbersomely and repeatedly, in order to transport each portion of garbage after another by hand up the slope, garbage that was indeed terrible to behold and horribly smelly. One of the dogs used to bring a paper mask to the offender, while the phantom voice gave instructions. Once enough garbage was packed in a car, the phantom voice allowed sinners to depart, but not without having properly said goodbye to the three dogs, which at that point sat lined up in front of the sinning person, smeared from head to toe with mud. And precisely in this moment every time a horde of tourists came from behind the trees, gloating and waving and constantly shooting pictures or filming. While the totally confused and broken littering sinners each tried as quickly as possible to get into their car and to drive away fast, in shock or a trauma, but firmly educated forever. These tour groups booked in advance tickets for the night trips entitled ‘littering and barking’. One of the last clean up sessions was even filmed by a national television film crew specializing in documentaries, and it was planned to show this film on national TV as part of a series on innovative people and places.

The last two littering sinners arriving – two smartly dressed men in their forties, dignitaries from a nearby town – were given the special job to pick up very small remnants of old garbage, crawling on hands and knees, and then spraying water from fire hoses following exact instructions given from behind the trees by the phantom voice, to clean the ground and give it the opportunity of fresh air. The two men filled with great zeal and tireless dedication to the task, so that it was proved: ‘People need basically demanding work, and mostly also a guiding hand telling them what to do’, a knowledge that was part of the commentary of the film crew when synchronizing the film.

On the flat bottom of the ravine, a special construction team planned and later realized a playground with adventure aspects: A climbing wall, a steep slide with tunnel, a curvy jogging track and a corner where one could play with stones of all kinds and sizes to build wonderful sculptures, for which competitions were organized.

The village became famous and won an award for its innovative action as well as wonderful and courageous initiative for fighting corruption, even when everything seemed lost. The village became a living example for many other places in the country and throughout the world.

Nowadays, the garbage is transported to sites that are supervised into different categories of safer and dangerous wastes.

And the three dogs were loaned out to other villages and earned a huge fortune.

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