Country Codes

This article by Peter Edgerton was in the SUR IN ENGLISH recently and I thought it was very amusing.

For anyone thinking of coming to live in Spain there are a few dos and don’ts which are of the utmost importance if the transition is to be a successful and happy one.

The first detail to note is that as new arrivals we are, indeed ‘coming to live in Spain’ not ‘coming to live in a transportable version of our home country under a sunnier sky.’ A healthy acknowledgement of this basic fact will help no end. It’s a good idea, therefore, to learn a couple of phrases in Spanish before you arrive in order to avoid the classic ‘red-faced pot-bellied bloke/woman yells at bewildered waitress in thick Yorkshire/Geordie/Scouse accent scenario.’ This is always mightily embarrassing especially if what’s being bellowed involves the vocabulary ‘Dear’, ‘Darlin’ and an adjectival swear word.

In the same vein, it’s also good to try to respect local customs, especially if they have been woven into the fabric of society down the centuries. This means for example, not complaining to the town hall about the noise during Holy Week, as one legendary British couple in a white Andalusian village did a few years ago. The loud drumming and deafeningly mournful music is all part of the cultural and religious experience. Rumour has it they were annoyed because they couldn’t hear a repeat of ‘Only Fools And Horses’ properly, but this may be an urban myth.

Do try the wonderful Mediterranean diet (except the salads, obviously; they’re equally useless whichever country you’re in). When I first arrived, I couldn’t bear olives or cured ham and now they’re two of my favourite snacks. Do not – as I’ve seen happen on more than one occasion – take your own pot of mint sauce to restaurants to slap on your leg of lamb. It’s rude.

If you’re thinking of starting a business, you simply must employ someone to do the paperwork. Those hoping to save a few bob by dealing with the bureaucracy themselves usually end up in one of two places: Alhaurin prison (for lamping the twenty third person to tell them that they’re not in the correct office and the one they want is three miles away but is just about to shut for two days for no apparent reason) or a lunatic asylum, rocking and drooling in a darkened corner, endlessly repeating the same speech, ‘But, I brought nine photocopies of my mother’s driving licence just as she asked. No-one mentioned my dad’s golf club membership card. I only wanted to open a cake shop.’

Don’t worry about people shouting at each other at all times, there’s no need to call the police. Full-blooded screaming matches are appropriate to any number of situations over here e.g. discussing a disputed handball decision from last night’s football match, cursing the immediate family of a neighbour in extraordinarily graphic terms or asking someone for the time. Don’t try to compete when these moments arise in social situations, you’ll be brow-beaten into submission by a combination of decibels and dogged determination. I’ve long suspected that Spanish people practice circular breathing rather like didgeridoo players in order to avoid the inconvenience of having to pause for breath when in full flight. There is no conclusive proof of this, however.

So returning to the idea of learning rudimentary Spanish before coming over, I’d like to suggest three indispensable phrases to learn before arrival.

‘Sin ensalada, gracias.’ (‘No salad, thank you.’), ‘Perdone, es que tengo que irme, no quiero perder Solo Tontos Y Caballos.’ (Sorry, I’m afraid I have to go, I don’t want to miss Only Fools and Horses) and ¿Oye, tocas el didgeridoo, por casualidad? (‘Hey, do you play the didgeridoo, by any chance?’). The last one you may have to scream very loudly.