Tuesday, September 13, 2022

With nothing better to say

There's an ad on the Spanish telly for erectile dysfunction. I see it when I watch the local version of Wheel of Fortune. Maybe it's a reflection of the age of the early afternoon TV audience. The person who tells us about the product wears a white coat, a doctor's coat. He has a beard, a bit of a paunch and specs. He's white. He looks like the sort of doctor your average white Spanish, set in his ways, male with an erectile dysfunction might trust. It's the white coat though. The uniform of the trade. You'll see uniforms everywhere in Spain from Mercadona to Civil Protection.

We popped in to Bar Mucho for a beer the other day. We went in minutes after it had opened. We were the first customers of the day and the young Spanish server was cleaning down tables. The music in the background was reggaeton or reguetón - Spanish language music. Normally the background music in Bar Mucho is international English language stuff. I've heard or read various pieces about reggaeton and it's importance to the music industry. Apparently for the first time in the history of "pop" music, modern contemporary music, Spanish language songs are outselling English language songs in Spanish speaking countries.

When they ran the Dutch Grand Prix two or three Sundays ago I heard the report on one of the five minute Spanish radio news bulletins (I didn't hear the more recent Italian results). It reminded me of the wry observation that, when the Titanic sank, the Halifax Courier carried the headline - "Halifax man lost on Titanic". The bulletin told me about Alonso in 6th and Carlos Sainz in 8th. I'm sure they mentioned the Verstappen victory but they didn't report on the other podium places. And where Halifax leads the rest of Britain follows. Mind you I suspect that in the Cameroon they mention Cameroonian successes first.

The telly was on in the background but when they said "La nueve" I looked up from whatever I was doing to watch. I have to be honest here. I've heard several times that exiled Spanish Republican troops, fighting alongside the Free French under the command of General Leclerc (no relation to the F1 Ferrari driver so far as I know) were the first allied troops to enter Paris during the Liberation of Paris in August 1944. I presumed this was another slight exaggeration to boost national pride. The unit was called La Nueve, The Nine, The Ninth I suppose. Their American built halftracks and Jeeps had Spanish derived names like Brunete, Ebro and don Quijote. I'd always supposed this was a bit of an overstatement, I'd supposed they'd been there but that they were part of a bigger force. In fact it seems that of the first 160 troops into Paris, 146 of them were Spaniards. They were Spanish soldiers from the defeated Republican side in the Spanish Civil War and they joined up with the Free French forces, on the other side of the Franco Spanish border, to continue their struggle with fascism. 

I've not done italki for ages. Well no, I have. I hadn't done italki for ages but last week I did. Italki is one of the several online language teaching and learning platforms. A teacher and a student get together on Zoom or Skype or whatever online, virtual, remote, method they choose to talk face to face. In my case I simply use it for Spanish conversation but people also do proper classes with lesson plans and suchlike. I like it because it's cheap, to a time that suits me and, obviously enough, it gives me an opportunity to speak Spanish which I hardly ever do. I've changed teachers a lot. Before I start with a new person the only thing I say to them is, "There's no need to prepare anything, I just want to talk". Nonetheless, every time, without fail, the teacher is determined that we will have a topic of conversation. They send me something to read or a list of "interesting" vocabulary. I ignore the articles and the word lists and we just natter away. Conversation is like that. You start with erectile dysfunction and end up with online classes.

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The photo is from a book Pingüinos en Paris (Bajo dos tricolores), Una novela sobre los luchadores republicanos de La Nueve by Jordi Siracusa. The author asked for a mention if I used one of his pictures so there it is!

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