Her heating will remain off as much as possible in the coming months, says María Teresa Manrique (65) decidedly. Although the Madrid winter can be harsh, her small retirement leaves her no choice. ‘Everything, really everything is getting more expensive. No, Spain is not doing well.’
She says it in the long line in front of Doña Manolita in Madrid, the most famous lottery shop in the country. Next to her is her sister Marí Ángeles (65). Although they are twins, they could hardly be less alike. While María Teresa has a square face with blue eyes and brown hair, her sister’s is tall with brown eyes and black hair. They do have one thing in common: 24671, the number of the lottery ticket they both buy today. Not participating in El Gordo (De Vette), as the largest lottery in the world is called, has not occurred to the Manriques despite the economic misery. Then lower the heating.
Europe is groaning under the energy crisis, which is the result of the war in Ukraine, and Spain is groaning with it. It itself does not depend on Putin for its energy, but the general high inflation has hit the country amidships. Supermarket prices are skyrocketing, rents are rising by sometimes hundreds of euros per month, and before reading the energy bill you pour yourself a good drink. One Spanish phenomenon, however, seems immune to the economic funeral mood: the annual Christmas lottery, better known as El Gordo.
Kids sing winning songs
Since 1812, the year in which the first draw took place, El Gordo has become one of the eternal symbols of the Spanish Christmas, alongside the baby Jesus and the Christmas tree. No lottery in the world can match the more than 2.5 billion euros that is also in the prize pool this year. The main prize is relatively modest: participants usually buy a décimo or a tenth ticket for 20 euros, with which a maximum of 400 thousand euros can be won. So no absurd amounts, but a greater chance of winning a ‘smaller’ amount together with others – and that’s the charm.
On average, the Spaniard buys three décimos with different lotto numbers, often the same as those of family members, friends, colleagues or bar mates. The winners will be announced in a surreal fashion on December 22. Well-dressed children from the San Ildefonso school in Madrid sing the winning numbers and the corresponding amounts on live television for hours on end. Anyone who is not a fan of monotonous children’s singing is out of luck: all TVs and radios in the country seem to be tuned to El Gordo that day.
‘It’s one of my childhood memories’, swoons Ana Lavilla (51). ‘At home in front of the TV, and then those singing children…’ Together with Javier (19), who stands a head above his mother’s black curls, Lavilla stands in the 40-minute queue for Doña Manolita. The waiters form a long snake, which winds around the corner from the entrance on the right and only shows its tail after 40 meters. A bald Argentine security guard clears the entrance to a bath bomb shop that would otherwise be barricaded by the queue.
Record number of tickets printed
The crowds in October are not too bad: the losers who linger until December – as your correspondent did last year – can easily stand in line for two hours for Doña Manolita. The namesake of this lottery shop in the tourist center of Madrid sold one winning ticket after another from 1904. The Doña has now passed away 71 years ago. Yet for a blessed fate you must still be here, the Spaniards know.
Doña Manolita is thus assured of business, but El Gordo is also avoiding the economic downturn in the rest of the country. “We are a little bit behind last year, but then people bought their tickets earlier than usual for fear that the shops would close during a new lockdown,” said Borja Muñiz, president of the national association of lottery offices. ‘Compared to 2019, the last year before the pandemic, things are going slightly better.’
The national lottery authority has printed more décimos than ever: 180 million copies. The fact that El Gordo is not sensitive to the economic situation has, in addition to tradition, also to do with peer pressure, says Lavilla. ‘If your colleagues at work pass around the cap to buy a lottery number together, you participate. You don’t want to risk being the only one not to win a prize.’ El Gordo is the perfect mix between the festiveness of the New Year’s Eve trekking and the emotional blackmail of the Postcode Lottery.
Rubbing photo brings happiness
For the state treasury, the lottery is a more than welcome source of income in difficult times. After the prize money has been distributed, an amount remains that is good for about 0.3 percent of the total government revenue. Participants pay taxes and are happy about it too – a reason for three Spanish economists to publish El Gordo in March this year on trade website VoxEU.org highly recommended as an ‘unconventional policy instrument’.
Queuing for Doña Manolita isn’t about those cold numbers, it’s about the magic. María Blanco (54) buys six décimos this year, for her and her family. On her way out, she rubs the raffle tickets over an old photo of the legendary raffle saleswoman. ‘That brings good luck. At least they say.’ As a little girl she was already standing here at the counter. Today Blanco lives in Barcelona, yet she stands in line here every year. Especially for her 80-year-old father, who can no longer physically do it himself. “Don’t forget, he says, to stop by Doña Manolita before you travel back.”