Fleeting success

Our neighbours have been putting up a new fence over the past couple of weeks. Facing each other across the footings for what would be the new fence Vicente, for that's the name of our neighbour, was complaining about the builders. I sympathised - one has to with builders. Even builders complain about, other, builders. Taking advantage of his sunny disposition towards me I asked him if he could spare a couple of the concrete blocks that were piled up in his yard. The question I asked was something, in translation, like "Are two of the concrete blocks in excess for you?" I got them and I went away well pleased with myself not only because I had the blocks, but also because I'd used a phrase that a Spaniard would use without having rehearsed it beforehand. 

I mentioned this phrase to my online Spanish teacher. I was bemoaning the fact that this, and other, fleeting victories over Spanish are wasted on the audience. I may be pleased with myself for having got the construction right but it's unlikely that Vicente noticed. If you're a native English speaker you might notice the mistake in "is a nice day" but you wouldn't notice the correctness of  "it's a nice day".

You, one, becomes much more aware of language when you're not comfortable with it. I often find myself repeating a Spanish phrase after hearing it on a news broadcast or in a song. Often it's not the intricate stuff that seems to be the hardest. For instance Spaniards find it really hard, when they are speaking English, to remember to use pronouns, the little words that go before a verb. They are not needed in Spanish so they get forgotten in English. It's common to hear was a teacher instead of he was a teacher and she is late often becomes is late. It's no big deal. It hardly matters. Even those people who speak spectacularly good English, think Eurovision Song Contest hosts, don't quite sound right if you start analysing what they say. Even if their grammar is good, the vocabulary right and the phrasing OK you, one, will still notice that their inflexion, their pacing and their tonality is just slightly off when compared to a native speaker.

Obviously it's the same the other way. There's a programme on Spanish radio hosted by a bloke called Nicholas Jackson who's from Manchester. I wish my Spanish were as good as his but he sounds like a Briton speaking Spanish. Even someone like the writer Ian Gibson, who has been here for years, still has an Irish twang behind his very colloquial Spanish. 

Young Britons brought up in Spain offer a strange case. At home, with carers or parents, their principal language is usually English. In the street, with friends, at work, at school their key language is Spanish. In effect English becomes, very much, their secondary language and lots of young British people grow to make the same mistakes in English as their Spanish peers - referring to their parents as their fathers for instance. They also, often, have a, relatively, limited English vocabulary and lots of trouble with English spellings.

My style of speaking Spanish is still very much an exercise in join the dots. I provide a list of vocabulary and I hope that the Spaniard I'm speaking to will be able to piece together what I'm trying to say. I've never liked performing - I don't dance, I don't do pass the cucumber, I don't even ask for street directions. Recently though, a couple of times, I've been quite pleased with myself because I've been less reluctant to speak. I put it down to speaking two hours Spanish each week through the online classes. Outside of the online sessions I don't really have Spanish conversations. Ten minutes with the neighbour, a sentence or two in a shop, a short exchange of phrases in a bar or restaurant. Mind you it's not all wine and roses. I still, sometimes, go to see a film in Spanish and, when it's done, if it weren't for the pictures, I'd have no idea what it was about even.

A decent innings

When Spaniards talk about electricity, in the house, they talk about light or at least they use the word whose principal English/Spanish dictionary translation is light. Or take tyre; there is a Spanish word for tyre but the commonplace word translates as wheel. It's pretty normal that a word we'd use in English has a direct translation into Spanish but the Spanish and English usages are different. Sometimes we have one word - slice for instance - whilst Spaniards have several and sometimes it's the other way round.

I was talking about this with my online tutor this morning. We got onto how words change with situations. It's unlikely that you would use the word piss directly with your doctor and equally improbable that, down the boozer, you'd talk about urine, micturition or passing water with your mates, though you might use the last if you were talking about a drive through the Lake District. The tutor said that he always found funerary language difficult. The way that, in both languages, we find ways to avoid words like body, dead and death. I said that one of my English language favourites, for avoiding plain talking, is the phrase that he or she had a good innings. It means that someone lived a long time. I should have kept quiet and nodded sagely.

To explain this phrase I needed to talk about cricket. Bear in mind that the majority of Spaniards know nothing about cricket. Well, in the same way that I think that American Football is a bit like rugby, Spaniards think that cricket is a bit like baseball. It's not the first time that I've talked about cricket with Spaniards. When I say that it's the second most popular game (fans not participants) in the world they never believe me which leads to a bit of a conversation about the size of the Indian population and a cricketing geography tour. Next comes a bit of a disposition on the bat - not just a club, like a baseball bat, but a carefully engineered bit of  kit. I could make the mistake of trying to explain leather on willow as a way of describing something traditional. I might even mention other cricketing phrases - on the back foot or on a sticky wicket. All of this so I can explain about an innings. I don't think there are many games where the length of a persons participation in a game is quite so elastic - though I suppose tennis and chess games can go on for ages too - or where a game lasting three or five days is normal.  Obviously I have to mention the one day game and the fixed over game too just for completeness. Along the way I may need to describe stumps, bowlers, fielders, umpires and goodness knows what else. And this from a man who, as my old pal Jim Buchanan used to say, could write all he knows about cricket on a small post-it note.

This happens a lot. I manage to tie myself in linguistic knots by walking into the ambush of difficult explanations. Explanations that would be difficult in English without the background of a shared culture. Do people from the US know about a long innings? Are sandwiches only made with sliced bread or does sandwich encompass rolls too? Pies and pasties are tricky to describe and differentiate as are cakes, buns and pastries. Explaining why we drive on the "wrong" side of the road, why people weigh themselves in comparison to rocks, why socks and sandals make sense and why not all beer should be served ice cold are just more snares that I have passed through in the past. No doubt I will again.

Talk to the screen

I shouldn't have chosen 7.30 in the morning. It seemed like a good idea. I thought that an hour at the start of the day wouldn't interfere with any other plans. Anyway with aching bones and a weak bladder I'm nearly always up at 7.30. Besides the session was online so I only had to look dressed from the neck up - no problem with wearing loose fitting shorts and yesterday's odorous t-shirt. Skype doesn't yet transmit body odours. The reason it wasn't such a good idea was that I woke up around 5am and didn't really get back to sleep for worry that I'd miss the appointed hour!

It was the first time that I'd ever done a Spanish class online. Somebody told me about an app that they had been told was easy to use to arrange online lessons. The one I used is called italki though I'm sure there are tens if not hundreds of others. I looked through the tutors first. The tutors are from all over the world so you have to think about accents - for Spanish I chose someone from Spain rather than someone with a Venezuelan or Mexican accent. All of the tutors seemed to have different prices though the majority seemed to be in the 7€ to 8€ range. I think one person was 23€ an hour. They must either be very good or as misguided as that bloke who once tried to sell me a very expensive Land Rover. I bought a discounted 10 lesson pack, 10 hours of classes, for $70, or about 65€ with one specific tutor. In general though I think that you buy credit with the organisation which you can then spend with any of their tutors. I'm still a bit novice with the system but it appears that the app puts you in contact with the tutor, arranges the session times and takes your money. The lesson with the tutor happens on Skype or Facetime or whatever the Google equivalent is called this week.

I can see lots of advantages to doing languages online and very few disadvantages. The application gives you a brief bio of all the tutors, which languages they speak, where they are based, how much they cost etc. All the teachers have a little introductory video so you can hear them speak. You can buy individual lessons or packages and most of the tutors offer a free or reduced price test session. So, for very little money you can give it a go. If you don't like the tutor, if you don't like their style, if you have technical problems or if you just think better of it you can simply say goodbye at the end of the session with none of the trauma of abandoning a more traditional class. I suppose too you could also book lots of sessions in a very short period to get an intensive course or you could take lessons from several different tutors for variety and, as long as you can get a decent connection you can take the class from wherever you happen to be.

The bloke I spoke to was very good; nice and easy to talk to. I've booked up for a second session but this time I'm not starting quite so early.

The Rolling R Review

Imagine one of those dance studios. A wall of mirrors. Lithe dancers, six pack stomachs, firm buttocks and all that brightly coloured, body hugging clothing.

Same idea, a mirrored wall but there's a bloke with a pronounced belly and a red nose, maybe for alcohol, maybe for the sun, sitting, facing the mirrors, on a cheap plastic chair with the sort of posture that Mr Plant would have reprimanded him for as a youth. Every now and then an acrid smell, it may be sweat from Mr Tubby or it may just be the room, wafts through the hot and airless atmosphere. It's Covid time so the fat bloke is wearing a face shield. Sometimes he blows a raspberry, well more or less, sometimes he gets hold of the side of his mouth to try and get his lips to flap in the wind. Gargling sounds. Strangled sounds. Flapping tongues.

It's me and I'm with a speech therapist trying to learn how to do the rolled R that is more or less essential to speak Spanish. Something I haven't mastered in all the time here. The therapist has said four sessions may do it. Maggie says I'm wasting money. I don't care. I've thought about doing this for years. To be honest it didn't go well. I have a video to prove it. Worth a try though and three more sessions to go.

This part I added in August 2020.

It took me a while to get the sound but I can now make it reasonably easily. We'd booked in four sessions but after two and a half the speech therapist said she was stealing money from me, she'd taught me the sound and it was just my job to practise. So every day I work through barra, berre, birri, borro, burru, carra etc. and raba, rebe, ribi, robo, rubu etc plus other real word exercises.

The problem is, and the therapist recognised that this is true, I don't have the same problem as Spaniards who have trouble with the sound. If they have problems with the rolled R, and she can teach them the sound, then that sound becomes the normal. Every time they use an R at the beginning of a word or RR in a word, they use that new, learned sound and it is reinforced as being correct and soon becomes habitual. But I don't have trouble with the R at the beginning of a word or the RR in a word. I am not Jonathon Woss. I pronounce the R fine in English. The problem only arises when I'm speaking Spanish. I have to pronounce words differently in Spanish - the lisp in Barcelona or cerveza for instance I can manage perfectly well by using the English TH sound. If I want the  double LL sound I can use the J from just or the LL from million but for the R I don't have an English sound to commandeer. I have to change the sound as though I were a performing animal. I do it as a trick. So the sound tends to be overemphasised. I've also noticed that I'm taking a breath before making it. I'm relying on tenacity to see my through. I'm reading through the list, which takes about twenty minutes, twice a day and, with a bit of luck, I'll soon sound as Spanish as an average Scot.

Warts and all

One Friday, ages ago, at the monthly few minutes of silence organised by the Plataforma El Pinós contra la violència de gènere I got talking to a couple. The bloke was a patent and trademark lawyer and he wanted to learn a bit of English.  We swapped phone numbers and later arranged to meet in a bar every week to speak to each other for a while in Castilian and for a while in English. Oh, and just in case your Valenciano is a bit rusty, a clumsy translation of the event would be The Pinoso Platform Against Gender Violence.

It's important here that I say Castilian or Castellano and not Spanish because there is no doubt that Jesús does not consider himself to be a Castilian; he's Valencian. He identifies as Catalan. At first that caused a bit of tension. He's really quite vehement in his nationalist views, but over the months it has become just one of those things that we are able to joke about. As he explains some Catalan point of view to me I am often reminded of that Clark Gable film where Mr. G ends up in a drinking match with the crew of a Russian patrol boat. Toasts along the lines of "Cheers, to Marconi, the inventor of radio", are countered with "Nostrovia, to Alexander Stepanovich Popov, who really invented radio".
.

After 84 days of linguistic abstinence we will be meeting for a chat tomorrow.

It's strange about Spanish, the Castilian, world Spanish variety, not the localised Catalan Spanish. I often complain that my Spanish is crap. I use that word. It is. I make a mistake in every sentence – errors which I recognise a nanosecond after uttering them. I curse my mistakes and mentally self flagellate. Yet my Spanish is reasonably good, well it is for an old fat English bloke who doesn't mix much. I can listen to the radio, read a novel or a newspaper article and, given the opportunity, I'd be overjoyed to get back to the cinema and see a film dubbed into Spanish. I can't though listen to the radio, read that novel or newspaper article or watch that film as easily in Spanish as I can in English.

It could be interesting tomorrow. I have had even less reason to speak Spanish over the last twelve weeks than my pitiful usual and I'd be amazed if Jesús has kept up his English. I know he's been swotting for exams. I'm rather expecting a pidgin and morale sapping session. The chilled beer will though, I'm sure, be excellent.

Looking for an easy life

Ages ago quite a famous teacher of English here was being interviewed on the radio. The reporter asked him how long it took to become bilingual. His answer was the sort of answer you don't want to hear, particularly if you've just bought one of those "Learn Arabic in three months" or "Swahili in ten minutes a day", type courses. He reckoned about 3,000 hours or about four hours a day, Monday to Friday, for nearly four years. As he stressed that was study type study not just listening to the radio or reading magazines. He did have faster methods which, surprisingly, involved spending money on his courses, materials and schools.

The interviewer went on to ask how many of this bloke's students had become bilingual. To be honest my neuron deficient brain doesn't recall exactly what he said but it was some hideously low number - 10, 20, maybe 100 - out of about 25,000 students. He did go on to say that only about 2,000 had crashed and burned; absolutely incapable of picking up the most basic stuff. He reckoned the vast majority abandoned learning when they'd reached a level they were happy with, be that beer ordering or engaging in a heated discussion about environmental politics.

I recognise what this bloke is talking about. I've been trying to learn Spanish for ages but it's years since I've done any real study. I can't remember the last time I sat with a text book trying to memorise verb tables or understand maybe disjunctive pronouns or demonstrative adjectives. I still pretend to be trying to learn things. I often write down a new word that I've read or heard, I read books in Spanish and go to the cinema to see films dubbed into Spanish. My Spanish is alrightish but sometimes I can hear the mistakes I'm making as I fail to make myself understood and I sometimes don't understand. I still shy away from conversations if I can.

Recently I've become very aware of my inability to pronounce the R with sufficient vigour for most Spaniards. They hear the equivalent of "Is this chew weseived?" when I'm trying to say "Is this chair reserved?". Spanish is a language where the link between the letters and the pronunciation of the word is inviolable so the wrong sound in a word can cause profound difficulties. English speakers are used to dealing with inconsistent pronunciation. We read that some ancient band was happy to record a record without any psychological angst at the changed pronunciation of two words spelled the same. Pronouncing so, sew and sow the same (but not if it's a sow) doesn't lead to disbelief amongst the population of Bradford. Spaniards though do wonder how reed and read and red and read can be word pairs. What we perceive as a very close reproduction of the Spanish word can, at times, be almost incomprehensible to a Castilian speaker.

Anyway, unfettered by work I thought it was about time to put a bit more effort into my Spanish. I've found someone willing to exchange some Spanish for English and I'm paying someone to correct my conversational Spanish. It won't work of course. The language hasn't magically seeped in in fourteen years and it won't this time either. Just like the interviewee said what I really need to do is to put in some graft but I'm a bit off hard work so that won't be happening. I don't suppose it'll do any damage though.

By the book

"You use a lot of continuous tenses in your books. Is there any particular reason for that?". It's an interview on the BBC Radio 4 arts programme, Front Row, some twenty years ago. The author was from the USA, he was pleased. "Being interviewed in England is just so great - you want to talk about my use of grammar!".

When we first arrived in Spain I wanted to try reading in Spanish but bookshops used to scare me. They usually had counters and the books were on shelves behind the counter. If you wanted to buy a particular book it was fine. You just asked. In Spanish. Of course they never had the book but you were hooked now, you had to order it, wait two or three weeks and then be shocked by the price. Spanish books are expensive. If you wanted to browse then tough luck. Slowly that changed. Faced by online sellers lots of traditional bookshops went to the wall, despite price protection, and the survivors became more self service. In the newer shops you could judge a book by its cover, turn pages, read a few lines, check the price and whatnot before deciding to buy or not.

I also discovered libraries. Cheap and browser friendly but not quite the same as owning a book. I also realised that books written in Spanish and bought from Amazon UK were, even after delivery charges, cheaper than the same book bought in Spain.

Then Maggie bought me a Kindle and my reading habits changed. It was still cheaper to buy Spanish language books from the UK than from Spain but now they came instantly and with samples. No nice covers though, no paper and glue smell on fanning the pages and print size became a personal choice. After a while Amazon forced me to become Spanish, website wise, but I was, and I am happy with Kindle. One of the big advantages of electronic reading for foreign languages is that the dictionary is inbuilt so, if looking up a word is essential, it interrupts the reading flow a lot less.

Reading in another language has made me more aware of the differences in books. Jonathan Swift and Laurence Sterne are a harder read than Sally Rooney or Kate Atkinson simply because of when they were written. Some authors though are easier to read than others because of their style and vocabulary choice. I'm a bit out of touch with modern English language writers but, as an example, I remember Philip Roth as being a harder read than Joseph Heller. If I decide to buy a book by Kate Bernheimer or Terese Svoboda in English I may or may not like it but it's very unlikely that I won't understand it.

That's not always the case when I'm buying a book in Spanish. Sometimes Spanish language books are full of words that I don't know, they can have a complicated, difficult to follow, structure and they can have cultural references that I don't understand. Julio Cortázar for instance was Argentinian and famous for his book Rayuela; easy enough to read but so pointless that I've tried it and abandoned it twice. Or Bartleby & Co by Enrique Vila-Matas, a supposed classic, which my own personal review records as being awful: dry, boring and incomprehensible. Sometimes the books are beyond my language grasp. I've tried to read Diario de un Cazador by Miguel Delibes a couple of times. It actually seems like it might be good but there is so much slang, so much colloquial speech, that I've had to admit it's beyond me.

When I buy a book that I find I don't like or I can't understand I often go back to the tried and tested for the next book. Someone like Isabel Allende for instance, or maybe a police story by Lorenzo Silva. Mind you that doesn't always work. I'd just read a book by Marcos Giralt Torrente that I really didn't like so I thought I'd read a Pérez-Reverte. This bloke pumps out books like there's no tomorrow and they're fine, easy to read, often with a nice narrative. I'd seen one called Cabo de Trafalgar, about the Battle of Trafalgar and I thought it would be a hoot to have a book where Nelson and Collingwood were the baddies. Bad mistake, nautical terms on every line: topsails, boatswains, forecastles, rigging and monkeys left right and centre but also with French and English speech spelled to be pronounced in Spanish - guar is bisnes for war is business - I still enjoyed it but it wasn't easy. So, lets hope that Jesús Carrasco has a good one with Intemperie which is the book I've just bought.

My Jamaican nan wants to know why I love chocolate spread so much, but mi Nutella

So I'm in a restaurant. I have wine and rice in front of me, outside the sun is shining and I don't have to work. Someone passes who knows me. They ask how I am and I respond that life is terrible. If this were an English person they would give a sort of half hearted, well mannered, version of a smile. If the person were a Spaniard they may well ask why.

I arrived late at the Monday evening intercambio session a few weeks ago and a friend was introducing herself to a Spaniard new to the group. After the formalities she added that English people can be a bit difficult to understand because they, we, joke with the language all the time. I watched as she struggled to explain exactly what she meant but I realised that it was true. When Maggie asks if she should put the kettle on I can't stop myself asking if she thinks it will suit her. I often explain to my students that the greeting "hi" is probably somebody playfully responding to hello pronounced "'lo"  with its opposite and that "hiya" is another form of wordplay against high.

Yesterday evening a Spanish pal posted a list of English words used by Spaniards in everyday conversation for which there is a perfectly good Spanish word available. The list included things like apariencia instead of look or pasatiempo instead of hobby. Along with the like I put the comment, in Spanish, "It's not our fault" and he responded with "Nobody says that it is, Chris". Ooops, that wasn't what I meant at all.

Maggie often tells me that I compound my difficulties in speaking Spanish by giving similarly obtuse answers when Spaniards speak to me. But I can't help it. It's how I think.

To justify  myself to my Spanish friend I responded with a blog I found which started with - El peculiar sentido del humor británico  - the strange British sense of humour can seem disconcerting at first. With strong self criticism, an almost imperceptible sarcasm and a very dry style it may seem like a completely new language.

Pooh!

The health people send you a little packet through the post. Inside there's a sort of flat tube with some liquid in it with a cap that incorporates a stick. You collect a sample of your own faeces (I decided not to use the simpler, better word). You open the tube to reveal the stick and then you stick the stick into the faeces sample a few times before sticking the stick back into the tube and sealing it all up. That provides whoever it is who deals with these things a sample to check to see if you possibly have gut cancer.

Once you have your sample you take it to the collection point, in my case the local health centre, and leave it in the "assigned urn" between designated hours. The sample gets analysed and they send you a letter if it's an all clear or make an appointment to see you if it's not.

Now there are certain Spanish words or phrases that just won't stick (sic). For instance there's a phrase that is to do with changing the subject that uses the name of the river that flows through Valladolid, the Pisuerga. Try as I might I can never remember the name of that damned river. Certain words become fashionable for a while - I still remember farrago of lies being used over and over again in a story about Harold Wilson and Marcia Falkender. I'd never heard the word before and I haven't heard it since but, at the time, it was everywhere. At the moment a verb that is being used regularly to do with the Catalan politicians in prison is acatar which means to respect, observe, comply with or defer to. I must have looked acatar up at least ten times and so far I still haven't internalised the meaning. On a much simpler scale the word for a notice or a sign - the written or printed announcement sort of notice/sign - is not a simple translation in Spanish - there are three or four words that are used to describe specific sorts of signs and there is a similar sort of sounding Spanish word - noticia - which has nothing at all to do with notices which is dead easy to trot out mistakenly.

So I go to the health centre with my pooh stick and I see no designated urn. I wander around a while sort of waving the green tube thing in the hope that someone will point me in the right direction. Nobody does so I queue at the reception desk. There are only a couple of people in front of me but the bloke on the computer takes an age to process anything - he must have trained in a Spanish bank. I stand and wait. It's frustrating because the answer will take two to three seconds. I see two other people, Spaniards, with their green tubes and I tell them I'm waiting to ask where the urn is. Eventually it's my turn, I ask and the receptionist nods his head at a yellow plastic container that's tucked behind the reception desk. It has no notice/sign on it. The receptionist is brusque in the extreme with his nodding and I'm not happy. I can't remember exactly what I said but the gist of it was that if somebody had the gumption to put a notice on the stupid yellow box then three people would not be standing around wasting their and his time. Except of course that I couldn't remember the right word for a notice and the whole righteous indignation thing fell apart.

They walk in the sun

I've just been to the UK, to see my mum. I was feeling a bit guilty about not having seen her for about seventeen months. She was in good form, fit and well and full of life.

In the UK I don't have any problem with talking. My words and phrasing may be a bit old fashioned but I can say what I want to whoever I want and with an appropriate emphasis. People even understand me if I throw in a bit of irony.

Nonetheless I find the UK a bit more foreign every time I'm there. I refer back to Spain all the time. I noticed hundreds of little differences - for instance I was impressed by the way that people repeatedly gave way to other people - in traffic, in queues, in doorways. People really do choose to walk on the sunny side of the street rather than to search out the shade. Food was distinctly different and I noticed that people eat all sorts of food in the street at all times of day. Forms of retailing seemed much more innovative with all manner of kiosks and small businesses offering services and products that don't exist here. It could be a long list.

I tell my students about ordering and paying for beer at the bar but I was surprised when the bar staff wanted the money before pulling the pint in Wetherspoon's so I'll have to change that a little. I tell my students that for we British a coffee is a coffee but I'm wrong - lattes, cappuccinos and americanos have taken the place of the distinction between coffee and black coffee and I wasn't there to notice. I found it strange, though I know the system, that the bus fare varies width distance. I was constantly perturbed as I rode on the buses that they seemed determined to drive into the face of oncoming traffic. It would take a while to relearn the driving on the other side of the road thing. Even the cars were slightly different; I spotted lots and lots of Jaguars and I doubled the number of Bentleys I'd seen in my life in just five days. I had to check the unfamiliar banknotes and coins before paying and not being able to see the tobacco in supermarkets was most odd. 

So I was quite at home in England but always a bit off balance at the same time. To be honest it's probably the same here though maybe the other way around. I'm in a bar as I type this. I was going to have a coffee but, as I waited to be served, I heard the waitress say the coffee machine was broken. When I ordered I checked about the machine and ordered a non alcoholic beer instead. She came back, "You may think I'm joking," she said, "but we don't have any zero alcohol either." I understood what she was saying without any trouble - though I probably didn't hear every word - and changing my order for a third time was no problem. It's not that I was lost, it's not that I was phased or confused but I wasn't exactly at ease with the situation either. So the talking can be a bit tricky but the way of doing things and the things I see around me are just commonplace.

As I got off the aeroplane in Spain I felt glad to be home but, as I will never be fluent, fluent, maybe I will never be at home.

Translating and interpreting

On the after lunch news Rajoy was chatting to Theresa May. I don't think our President speaks English and I'm pretty sure that May doesn't speak Spanish. Just behind them was a chap with grey curly hair and one of those "access all area" passes. I presume he was their interpreter.

On the Wordreference.com forum pages I sometimes have a go at helping people to translate things. I tend to go the Spanish English way rather than write in Spanish as I am very aware of the manifold slips that I make when writing in Spanish. Wordreference is a wonderful dictionary cum language resource if you don't know it.

For quite a while now I've listened to the Spanish podcasts by Alex occasionally assisted by Vanesa on the cunningly named Spanishpodcast.net. A while ago they started to push their YouTube channel as well but it took me a while to getting around to having a look.

On the videos Alex didn't look at all like I expected from having heard his voice on the podcasts. The videos though are really simple and they look very professional to me. Alex speaks in Spanish and, one day, the video ran automatically with Spanish subtitles. Trying to turn them off I found that there is a tool on the site for adding in subtitles to videos in other languages. I've made a couple of donations to the Spanishpodcast.net site in the past but, generally, I've got most of the stuff for free so I thought it might be a nice gesture to add the subs in English.

I understand the dialogues 100% or maybe 99% some weeks. Nonetheless putting in the subtitles proved to be more challenging than I expected. The way that it's done on YouTube is that there are the subs in Spanish and a box to type in your attempt in whatever language underneath. The little boxes in Spanish finish on a particular word and I try to end on the same word in English but it's not always possible simply because of differences in word order. Then there are the expressions that make sense in Spanish but aren't good English. I have been very undecided whether to go for a good English style just taking the sense from the Spanish, whether to go for the most literal translation that maintains a semblance of sense or to mix a bit of both. I have not been happy with any of the translations so far but, eventually, I'm sure I'll settle on an appropriate style.

In the meantime hats off to that translator bloke making it possible for Rajoy and May to maintain a conversation at a normal speed.

Public reading

I've mentioned Azorín, the writer born in Monóvar a few kilometres from Pinoso, before. There's a lot going on about him because it's the 50th anniversary of his death. A while ago I went on a walk around Yecla based on one of his books and today I went to a public reading of another of his works. It wasn't something I'd planned to do but when I booked up for another Azorín event the woman on the desk persuaded me to sign on for this one too.

If I've mentioned Azorín a couple of times I have mentioned my terror at speaking Spanish hundreds of times. Terror is definitely the right word. In fact my Spanish nowadays isn't too bad and, under certain circumstances, I talk without too much effort or I laugh off my mistakes. One of the worst situations though is when I participate in something that isn't really designed for someone with defficient Spanish. Go and stand in the crowd to watch a procession and nobody is surprised that there is a foreigner there taking snaps. Go to a concert and it's the same. But, if you go to a poetry reading or a political rally then, obviously, if you're there you must be able to speak Spanish; if not why are you there and not curled up safe on your sofa watching the BBC?

It's worse if Maggie isn't there for two reasons. The first is that if we are spoken to she is much, much braver than me and she does the speaking. All I have to do is make gutteral interjections or laugh at the appropriate time. The second is that it means I'm alone with nobody to talk to about what's happening or why.

So I turn up at the appointed time for the public reading of Las confesiones de un pequeño filósofo. The reading was going to be in the street outside the Azorín museum but the weather has been miserable for the last two or three days (probably because it's a bank holiday weekend) so the event was moved inside. I was cold sweat anxious in that irrational way that I have when I may be called upon to answer questions in Spanish. It was fine though, all I had to do was say hello and then I was able to skulk against the wall. The organisers had a list of names and just before everything got under way they asked me if I was Chris Thompson. They asked me first, they knew. My tiny joke about me looking English went down well. A few minutes later they asked me if I would like to be the first to read. It wasn't a public reading in the sense of someone with nice intonation and a good knowledge of the novel reading selected passages; it was the public taking turns to read some of the book! At least I understood the question enough to be forceful, definite, resolute and clear in saying no.

The reading was interesting enough. I didn't know the book but, after hearing the early chapters, I thought I might give it a go. Azorín has two modes - in one he gets all philosophical and talks about writers and political theories unknown to me and in the other he writes descriptions. I don't care at all for the philosophical stuff but the descriptions are often splendid.

The dark swallows will return

On a good day, with a following wind, I can tell an ash from a rowan, a beech from a hornbeam. Chestnuts, sycamores or oaks are easy. The black and white job is a magpie, that brown and blue is a jay but they are all corvidae. Wagtails and blackbirds, spuggies and starlings, robins and reindeer - I can tell them apart. I don't know a lot of bird names in Spanish but I know a few - if I know the bird in English I usually know it in Spanish though those little finch jobs keep slipping my mind - pinzones and jilgueros I think.

Sometimes I know the name but I wouldn't recognise the bird if it were to gather in large numbers on my porch or peck holes in the top of my soft-top Aston Martin. Kites spring to mind as an example. They were pointed out to us as we cruised the Duero in Salamanca but I have no real idea what they look like. I'm not really much good at natural stuff. Our garden is full of colour. Maggie despairs of my lack of plant knowledge. It was only because she mentioned it yesterday that I noticed we have lilac in bloom. As we drove through Almansa the other day I confused cherry blossom with jacaranda - purple trees are purple trees.

I was knocking back weeds the other day when I heard a cuckoo. This is one of the main things I do in the garden, take out weeds. Some Spanish person told us that keeping the soil weed free was a Mediterranean tradition. Apparently rigorous weed control means that your garden will not burst into flame so easily in July or August. Weeds are green. Occasionally I realise that I have hoed out something that Maggie planted. In my opinion she should have bought something with a bit of colour. If it's coloured it may be a flower. If it's green it's obviously a weed.

The cuckoos have been on the go for a little while now. I mentioned this to a Spaniard who looked blank at the news. I suppose the Spanish do not have a history of letters to the editor of The Times. Maybe they don't have Gilbert White either but I presume they have something similar?

Anyway, so I'm talking to my English class about collective nouns. We've done team and flock and herd and I say we have more which are less common - a gaggle of geese -  no need to write that down I say, it's not an important or useful word. Although I think the word goose, in Spanish, is a dead normal word, an everyweek if not an everyday word, most of the students don't. We're getting silly now so I mention a murmuration of starlings but it takes me much longer to explain what a starling is than it does to explain the term murmuration. By the time we're onto a venue of vultures - surely they know vultures? - I am really in a hole.

I have a pal. On the rare occasions twenty or thirty years ago, when she persuaded me that walking in the countryside had any value, she would hop around woodland lanes pointing out coltsfoot, stinking jenny or celandines. It was a bit like Ivor Cutler's dad - "Loook! A thistle," and then, "Looook! another thistle." We soon knew the thistle. She told me her mum had told her about plants and animals because she was a country lass.

I think we Brits know a bit about birds and trees and plants. Some know more than others of course. For many of us I suspect it's a bit superficial - if it's got the wings at the front instead of in the centre it's a hawk - kestrel? If it's at the seaside it's a seagull. Long legs? heron? crane? egret at a push? And if it's on a pond and likes bread it's a duck.

We live in the countryside in Culebrón and in Pinoso. I am consistently surprised when my mention, in Spanish, of nightingales, swallows, sparrows, robins, voles, shrews, hares, badgers, hedgehogs, nettles or thistles leads to bewilderment amongst my students. I would have thought that all country folk would have known their way around the local fauna and flora but apparently not.

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The blog title is from a poem by Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer

Volverán las oscuras golondrinas

en tu balcón sus nidos a colgar,

y, otra vez, con el ala a sus cristales

 jugando llamarán;

The dark swallows will return

To your balcony to hang their nests

And again with their wings at your window

They will call as they play.

A theory what I have

I was asked if I'd ever written a post about learning Spanish. To be honest I wasn't sure. Normally my blogs complain about my inability to construct an error free phrase, which Spanish people understand, rather than anything on the methodology. I had a quick search through the blog and I couldn't find anything specific. So, here it is but, before launching into it, I should say that there are tomes and tomes on the theory of learning languages. People who know how brains work have theories about how to learn languages or language acquisition in general. They know much more than me. They are right and I am wrong. This attempt is going to be, relatively, short. It will contain lots of generalisations and it's a personal and not a researched view. And, of course, you need to bear in mind that my Spanish is rubbish.

Learning a language is easy. The vast majority of children do it. The method is also pretty obvious. The children listen to the words and phrases. They grasp that there is an idea behind the word or phrase. Maybe it explains something, maybe it is to give a command or order or maybe it is to transmit information. They learn the words or phrases and then build on those to express their own questions and views on the world. Later they learn how to read and write.

So, one of my first beliefs about learning a language is that it is just one big memory task. Unless you know some words then you won't be able to speak, read, write or listen. You have to learn lots of words and lots of phrases. This is especially true of idiomatic expressions. I use an example with my English language learners. OK, let's get the lead out, let's get cracking and put this baby to bed. It makes sense to me but it would be a bugger to understand if I were Spanish. The Spaniards do the same. Simple combinations of ordinary words that have completely different meanings to the sense of any of the individual words that they are made up of. They are easy to overcome though, you just have to learn them. You'll know a method that works for you for learning things. It is not a fast process. Learning a language for most people takes thousands of hours.

It's not just knowing the words and phrases - it's saying them adequately enough so that they are understood. It doesn't take much to make a word incomprehensible. For instance a Spaniard, speaking English, once asked me for some un-irons. There was no context to help - the word was onions. We English have plenty of trouble with lots of sounds that are easy for Spaniards. I'm not talking about the ones we know are difficult like the double rr or the y that sounds like a throaty j. Take the letter o and the way that you just voiced it to yourself - like oh. So for our town, Pinoso, we tend to say pin-oh-so when the sound is more like pin-oss-oh. What seem like quite small mistakes to us make words incomprehensible to Spaniards who have been brought up with a language that ties the sound of the letters to the sound of the words. Spaniards have a systematic and almost unbreakable set of rules for speaking Spanish. That's why they have so much difficulty saying would, friends or soap. So that section in your Spanish books that gives you examples of how to say the letters and vowel combinations is really, really important.

There's another little aside to speaking a language that is the rhythm that a language has. Think of the way that Italians sing as they speak or how Australians stress the end of a sentence, the way Swedes sound like the chef from Sesame Street. We have a cadence to English that is confusing for Spaniards. English speakers need to try to mimic the Spanish rhythms and tones. Without doing that you're going to have a lot of trouble, for instance, asking a question. ¿Estás de acuerdo?

I'm not a big fan of grammar. The rules for most languages, other than Esperanto, came after the language existed. Google tells me that the first English dictionary was published in 1604, the year that the Hampton Court conference laid down the rules for the King James Bible. That means the language was pretty well established by then. The first decent English dictionary was Samuel Johnson's in 1755. That's the one that Baldrick mentions in Blackadder, the one without sausages in it. The grammar that gets reproduced in grammar books is a description of the way the language is used rather than the rules from which a language is constructed. A bit like the difference between Common Law, based on societal customs recognised and reinforced by the judicial system, and modern laws which are drafted in intricate detail. I can't deny that grammar is useful. I teach grammatical rules in English and you have to learn the basic rules of Spanish grammar if you are going to speak Spanish. You need to know how verb tenses work how genders agree and hundreds of other things but there is a point when the exceptions to grammar rules, in my opinion, make them almost useless. So, again in my opinion, there is good grammar, useful grammar, and almost useless grammar. In an English context think about Tesco and Sainsbury's who speak good English. Nonetheless, they used, in the past, to have ten items or less tills (countable nouns should use fewer) and McDonald's who also speak good English, say I'm loving it despite knowing that stative verbs aren't generally used in the continuous form. On the other hand the difference between the use of you're (you are) and your (belonging to you) is big grammar. Big grammar is something that Tesco or McDonalds can't play with. 

One of the areas of Spanish grammar that confounds most English speakers is the subjunctive. Old people, like me, still use the subjunctive in English from time to time - it is important that he learn the rules or I wish it were sunny - but the form is definitely on the way out. On the other hand it is very much alive and well in Spanish. The rule says something like the subjunctive is used when the meaning of the main clause makes the events described in the subordinate clause "unreal" i.e. not known to be a reality at the time of the sentence. So, for instance if you see a T shirt with a picture of Kurt Cobain on it in a shop window and go into the shop and say that you want the T shirt with the picture of Kurt on it you use the indicative but if you're not sure that the shop has a T shirt with said picture then you have to use the subjunctive - busco la camiseta que lleva una foto de Kurt (you're sure such a shirt exists, indicative) and busco una camiseta que lleve una foto de Kurt (the shirt may or may not exist so you use the subjunctive). Now you tell me that any ordinary person learning Spanish is going to be able to work that out from first principles in the heat of the confusion of trying to construct a sentence and buy a shirt and I'll be happy to call you a liar. On the other hand most subjunctives come after little set phrases - es posible que - for instance, is followed by a subjunctive as are hundreds of others. If you're willing to slog it out and learn all those little introductory phrases then you will get the subjunctive right as often as most Spaniards. We're back to memorising the language.

So, my advice on grammar is to learn the stuff that you use in nearly every sentence you would ever use. Learn how to use articles, adjectives, adverbs, how to decline verbs and, indeed, learn as much grammar as you like and as you possibly can but, as soon as it seems to be becoming too esoteric, fall back on how children learn language and learn some phrases as the basis for other similar phrases.

Something else I would recommend is that you read things in Spanish and listen to things in Spanish. Spaniards and Britons do not use the same language to express the same idea. What the language learner is after is how to express what they want to say. Most Britons can say "good morning" in Spanish but if they were to overthink it then they're actually saying goods days - "buenos días". I sometimes despair when a fellow Briton is complaining about a Spanish waiter asking "¿Qué te pongo?" because, the Briton says, that the phrase means "What I put you?" Alright, the first definition of poner in the Spanish-English dictionary may be put but it's not the only one and, for heaven's sake, the question is obvious enough. Consider that the idea is "what do you want?" or "what can I get you?" even though there aren't a lot of directly translatable words in the phrase.

Just to finish off here are some disconnected jottings in no particular order and mainly for people living in Spain. I like classes because, once you've signed up, you feel you have to go. The people who employ me in Pinoso at Academia 10 would be very happy to sell you a class. Text books, learn Spanish type text books, vary in quality but most of the modern ones I've seen are pretty good. In Pinoso there is an intercambio session - half an hour of Spanish in return for half an hour of English every Monday evening from 8.30 at the Coliseum in Constitución. Talking to yourself is good because you realise the words you can't pronounce and you can often hear yourself making mistakes. Describing things as you walk around might help. Reading things like signs and number plates as you do the shopping is simple and easy. Five words or phrases at a time rather than the first two pages of your new vocabulary book. Start by watching TV ads rather than feature films. If you like reading Mills and Boone better the Spanish equivalent than starting with Episodios nacionales. Maybe set your phone or Tom Tom to Spanish rather than English. And a long etcetera.

History evenings

I went to a little bilingual talk last night about the history of the nearby village of La Romana. It wasn't at all bad. The local expert, Francesc Gallardo, did his stuff and answered, knowledgeably, the questions he was asked. He was ably assisted by a woman, Anabel, who handled the translation. She was the same woman who did the talk back in December.

I had no real trouble understanding nearly all of the Spanish part of the talk and my English was up to the English part though that didn't seem to be everyone's case. I'm not talking about the Spanish; I'm talking about the English. I thought we had some most amusing culture and translation problems.

In the Q&A session someone asked in English about a building that had a "big flat stone" inside, "probably" for processing grapes. The translator turned the English into Spanish and talked about grapes and wine to the Francesc, the speaker. He said he didn't know of any bodegas (wineries) but, in his answer, he mentioned almazaras, oil mills, places to press olives. The translator, missing the cultural confusion of what was being processed, didn't mention the oil mill reference at first. It was all sorted out in the end of course. The big flat stone was for crushing olives - oil not wine. Back in Elland we Britons didn't process a lot of wine or oil either.

Someone else asked about the history of some cave houses. They asked if it were true that the houses had originally been dug in Roman times so that people with leprosy had somewhere to live away from the village. As we'd just been told that basically there wasn't a village of la Romana until the turn of the 20th century and that no Roman artefacts had been found in the area the answer was going to be disappointing for the questioners. I could imagine the number of times that story had been told to visitors.

I don't know about you but I don't really have any trouble with American English. If someone talks about fawcets and car trunks I am not confused.  And if neither pronounced one way and neither pronounced the other are American and British English then I have no idea which is which. Although I may be dissimulating I think I remember being taken to see South Pacific and, if I do, I would have been four at the time. So I have been watching Hollywood movies (films) for a long time. I would suppose the true is same for almost any English speaker worldwide.

So, last night, there is a second question about cave houses in nearby Algueña. There is some initial confusion about which cave houses and where. There is a secondary question, in English, in the air, from an audience member, about whether these may be the cave houses behind the petrol station. The translator picks up this question and relays it to the speaker. The Spanish word gasolinera for petrol station, service station, comes back in the translator's American English. "Are these the caves behind ther gas station? The original question asker says she doesn't know anything about a gas station in Algueña and the whole question just sort of evaporates. I don't know Algueña well but the petrol station on the main road through the village is obvious. I'm sure the original questioner knows it too. So this time I think we have a linguistic problem related to gas, as in cookers, as against gas, as in gasoline.

The group that made me aware of this event - Spanish International Alicante - says that its aim is to promote friendship, integration and interchange of languages through social evenings, events and cultural activities. That was certainly going on last night.

October and nothing to say

Nothing much to write. It's October, you may well have noticed, and the weather is a bit changeable. The usual weather pattern here is blue skies and sunny days all year round with a few days rain particularly in winter and spring. In summer the difference is that it just gets hotter and stays hotter longer. At the moment the maximum temperatures are only getting up to around 26/27ºC and overnight we get down to somewhere below 10ºC. Difficult weather to deal with. You put on a sweater and you swelter. You wear a T shirt and, in the shade, it's a bit nippy. At night it's cool. Only the Northern Europeans are still in shorts. Inside, in front of the telly, our house is distinctly chilly. We've had the gas fires on but not yet wound up the mighty roaring pellet burner. We've had some rain too. The sort of British rain that makes the soil claggy and leaves muddy footprints on the kitchen floor.

There's still a fair bit going on round and about in the fiesta line - hence the photo - but we haven't ventured very far recently. Bit short of cash to be honest. I haven't had any work or any pay for four months. The Brexit vote has destroyed the value of the pound against the euro and, with it, my pension income. If you consider that, as a very broad generalisation, over the last couple of years it has cost about £770 to buy 1,000€ one now needs £910 to do the same. I'm sure you can guess what that means to someone living here and paid their UK pension in sterling.

I'm back at work now though and counting the days to the pay check. Things are a bit different. I'm still with the bunch based in Murcia who sell my work to a state assisted school in Cieza. This year though I'm just working two longish days with them. In the morning I work in the school, with full classes of youngsters doing their compulsory secondary school education and, in the afternoon, I do classes with any age group willing to pay for English classes. My bit, with the school, is to try to make sure the teenagers hear some real English and actually get to speak a bit. It's fair enough. The youngsters are noisy but generally they are nice enough and they don't give me too much grief. They don't like to speak English though. In the afternoon I do the classes for the language school in the same building, in the same rooms but with a mixture of age groups. Fortunately this year I have more adults and fewer children.

A biggish change is that I also have some work with another business, Academia10, based here in Pinoso. I do three adult two hour classes with them. It's nice to be working close to home and with people who are keen to learn. You'd have to ask the learners, rather than me, but I think the classes have been going OK.

Spanish wise, the language side, things go along. I still do a class, in fact I do it at the place I teach myself now. I also go to a language exchange that happens in a local bar. My Spanish isn't bad at some levels but it still drives me to distraction and is the major fly in the ointment of my existence here. I make stacks of mistakes but I can generally maintain a conversation. Then again I sometimes can't speak at all. In one bar last week they brought me a coca cola when I asked for a coffee. Twelve years and I can't get a coffee!

Last night I was surprised when, as I drove up our track, a car followed me right to our gate. It turned out to be some friends who had spotted a couple of sheep wandering on the minor road to their house. They wondered if I knew who the owner might be. I didn't but I said I would call the police on their behalf. I was shocked when the local police number was answered by the emergency 112 call centre. I stumbled and stuttered confusing verb tenses, mispronouncing words etc. I had the usual excuses - poor mobile phone coverage, not being quite sure what the answers were to lots of the questions. If it had been in English though it would have been much easier. The sheep are now safe and sound though.

Just in case you're interested the political stalemate is still completely unresolved. In fact a couple of weekends ago a palace coup saw the leader of the Socialist party unseated. You may remember that the PP, the conservative bunch, won more parliamentary seats than anyone else but they cannot find a partner or partners to give them the majority to form a government. The unseating of the socialist leader was because he has refused, point blank, to support the conservatives. With him out of the way the socialists could now abstain in a parliamentary vote in which case the conservatives get to form a government, albeit a minority one. As you might expect this is causing furore amongst socialist ranks. Three hundred days without a government today. If they don't cobble together something the third general election will be in December.

I'm going to stop there. This is boring even me but it's written, so it's going to get published. I'll be back when I have something interesting to say so, Oates like, that may be some time.

Knobs and knockers

I didn't use to notice English much. Maybe it came as a bit of a surprise when the radio alarm burst into life and I hadn't the faintest idea what Brian Redhead or John Humphrys was saying to me for the fleeting seconds of semi consciousness before I woke up. Then that was a long time ago. The fact that there were still clock radio alarms proves it.

I'm very aware of language now. For one thing I live in a place where speaking easily isn't, like breathing, just second nature - it's something that has to be striven for. On top of that, my students, well the ones who don't shout all the time, ask me questions about English. They seem to want rules. They want rules of grammar. I'm not a big believer in grammar. A set of rules invented after the fact to make sense of something that is essentially random in my opinion. I don't know a grammar rule without exceptions and, in many cases, the exceptions are much more common, in everyday speech, than the regular stuff. If language weren't illogical then Arabic speakers, French speakers, Chinese speakers and English speakers would obviously have chosen the universally correct word rather than using بيض, œuf, 雞蛋 and egg to describe the same thing.

Students aren't happy when I tell them that, for quite a lot of things, the answer as to why we use this formula or that expression is because we do and there is no rule they can learn to remember it and no better explanation to be found.

Lots of the people I have worked for have told me that I should always speak English when teaching. Generally, I try to but, to be honest, when it is a direct swap and I know the Spanish I just give the translation. How long would it take to describe an egg? How many other words would you need to describe along the way? And I don't think that saying huevo is the Spanish for the English word egg is going to spoil anything. After all, when all the the roundish reproductive bodies produced by the female of many animals consisting of an ovum and its envelope of albumen, jelly, membranes, egg case, or shell, according to species translation is over the typical Spanish speaking student is going to remember, or forget, huevo.

I always think that things, in the sense of nouns, have a direct translation. Logically things like car, boat, bone must have direct translations. Some things, the less solid things, may have cultural differences built into the language so that we need to add a bit of interpretation to find an equivalent or useable word. Take an idea like nice, agreeable, pleasant and you will guess that the English variations lead to other variations with differenet nuances in Spanish.

I've run into a couple of odd cases recently though. Spaniards don't seem to have a single translation for door handle. That's a standard house sized door with a standard household handle sort of door handle. Hook came to my attention again recently too. You'd think that a hook, in the sense of a reduced size version of a Captain Hook like hook bought from an ironmongers, as an option to a screw or a nail, would be easy enough but, in a class with just six students, there was no one word that was acceptable to all of them.

Funny old world isn't it?

Summer passing

I don't have any work between the end of June and the beginning of September. No pay either so it's not quite as good as it sounds. And with Maggie working mornings our options about getting out and about have been a little more restricted too.

This is one of the reasons that I've got through quite a lot of books over the summer. That and because I prefer short books. Reading ten books with 200 pages is only like reading a couple of big thick books. Anyway I get bored with one style, one set of vocabulary and the same basic theme. Generally I've read books in Spanish - partly to try and improve my language but also so that  I have a bit more local culture under my belt. After all you don't need to have read every Kate Atkinson or Stieg Larsson to be able to have a conversation about their style. Talking about what you have read is a common enough conversation so the more points of reference I have the greater the possibility of maintaining that dialogue. The only fly in the ointment is that my memory is terrible so I often deny all knowledge of a book until the other person starts to describe something I read only a month ago.

Anyway one of the other pastimes is taking part in the WordReference forum. WordReference is an online bilingual dictionary but there is, amongst others, a Spanish/English forum to talk about word use, phraseology and what not. I realise it doesn't sound that riveting but I find it entertaining enough. Although my written (and spoken) Spanish leave something to be desired my understanding of written Spanish is pretty good and my grasp of English is still excellent. It's surprising though how much of the English that people are trying to understand is remarkably byzantine.

Something new today though. Somebody using the name Zameda picked me at random to give them a hand in putting subtitles on an MTV interview with Amy Winehouse. "Why not?" I said. I watched the video and understood it perfectly. Then I tried to answer Zanema's specific questions given as time periods on the soundtrack. It was amazing how many times I had to listen to correctly transcribe - "Stuff like that you don't, you don't, you know, even cross your fingers or get your hopes up; do you know what I mean? just, just err, you know; if it comes through it comes through, if not I won't have got my hopes up."

Back to work next week I suppose though with a gentle lead in. I don't think students will be queing at the door to get back to their English studies. Still time for a few more photos, a bit more reading and maybe another few posts on the forum though probably not enough time for the cleaning and gardening.

Bad language

If you do not like foul or uncouth language do not read this post.

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When the radio did it's exploding into life thing this morning the first song on was called A la mierda something like "fuck it!"  or a bit more literally "shit it!"

A couple of my pupils, lads about eleven years old express surprise by saying "What the fuck!?" in English. I heard the same phrase used by The Gran Wyoming, a well known TV presenter, who hosts an irreverent daily round up current affairs and news on a TV programme called el Intermedio. Motherfucker, is also a relatively frequent word on Spanish lips. It always catches me unawares. It's a word I would not use lightly. I put it down to a lack of understanding of the violence of these sort of phrases in English.

Now I am not the best person to comment on the intricacies of Spanish but this overuse of expletives, foul language and swearing seems to me much more commonplace in everyday language than in the UK or, more accurately, it has a different focus. I swear a lot and I know that young people in the UK do too. But the use is emphatic, it is there on purpose, to shock, to underline to rebel. I don't find the usage the same in Spanish. Here it is often just a different adjective or nearly as innocuous as Golly!

A little  while ago the River Ebro flooded and caused a lot of damage. Pedro Sanchez, the opposition leader, made a statement: "Qué coño tiene que pasar en este país para que Rajoy visite la ribera del Ebro?" I'd maybe translate it as "What the hell has to happpen in this country before Rajoy (the President) comes to see the Ebro." But coño would be a strong word for us - the c word. Coño though can be quite friendly if said with the right inflection. I suppose we Brits do the same with bastard. But the fact is that it's in the mouth of everyone, including the five year olds I sometimes teach. It's not a word limited to Guy Richie characters; in Spain. it's an ordinary, everyday word.

Maybe it's to do with use. I seem to remember that the French word for mackerel, maquereau, can be an insult. It wouldn't have much force in English or Spanish. In Spain I understand on the other hand that zorra, the female fox, a vixen is a pretty strong way to express whore or slag and it is definitely at the forceful end of bad language. You little vixen sounds nearly Enid Blyton to me.

It is strange though. The number of apparently nice  children who use the word shit as an expression of mild surprise, who want to shit on something, refer to me, in what is undoubtedly a friendly tone, as coño or who pepper their language with fuck this and fuck that as they talk still causes me surprise.

En español

The other day I wrote an essay for my Spanish class. It was that essay which gave me the idea for the blog about trademarks and names. I got the corrected essay back today and there were few enough mistakes for me to bother to correct them on my original. So here, for my two or three bilingual readers, is my attempt at complaining, hopefully in a light hearted way, about a few things Spanish. Nothing new in the content but waste not, want not, as my old uncle used to say - that was before he was dead of course.

Cuando vivía en Ciudad Rodrigo buscaba el lavavajillas en un supermercado pero no puede encontrarlo. -Perdona, ¿dónde esta el lavavajillas, por favor?-pregunté a un reponedor- El mistol está cerca de los congeladores, al fondo -me dijo. Fue la primera vez que escuché este sobrenombre para el lavavajillas. A veces, en Inglaterra lo llamamos Fairy Liquid pero, normalmente, utilizamos un genérico – washing up liquid – detergente para fregar platos. Ya sé que hay muchas cosas que tienen estos sobrenombres – supongo que minipimer, kleenex, danone y los demás no son exactamente sobrenombres, no es como llamar a los Ecuatorianos “Panchitos” por ejemplo, ni es exactamente un neologismo como wasapear o sexting. Sobrenombre servirá. Y por eso, por el uso de este nombré en aquel supermercado, compré Mistol por la primera vez.  Me gusta, es un detergente bastante fuerte y tiene una gama de olores y colores. Pero una pregunta ¿por qué tienen las botellas ese pico tan gordo? Creo que es un pequeño timo, una estrategia de marketing, para que despilfarre el costoso líquido. Pensé en ello la última vez que estuve en un supermercado y compré Fairy – este sí tiene un pico del tamaño adecuado.

Me gusta otro líquido que hay en España – el café. En la mayoría de los sitios el café está muy bueno. Es un placer sentarte en un bar, pedir un café y mirar todo el mundo pasar frente a mís ojos. Pero soy inglés. Levantamos un imperio sobre el té, pues, claro té, gin tonic y una marina poderosa, y de vez en cuando quiero tomar un té fuera de casa. Los Turcos, los Chinos, los Árabes, hasta la mitad del mundo, tienen sus ideas sobre el té. Nosotros también. Y nuestra idea no tiene nada que ver con el té español. Nos gusta una variedad de té que se llama Broken Orange Pekoe – es un tipo de té negro. Normalmente lo tomamos con una gotita de leche y, quizá, azúcar pero, claro para gustos los colores. Lo hacemos con agua hirviendo y la mezcla necesita tres o cuatro minutos para extraer todo el sabor de las hojas sagradas antes de añadir la leche. Los españoles saben mucho sobre comida y bebida, son dueños de una gastronomía impresionante, pero no tienen ni idea sobre el té. Lo hacen con agua templada, creen que se puede calentar el agua en un microondas, los peores, las más canallas, ponen el sobre en agua fría y calientan el agua con el sobre dentro. Muchos ponen leche caliente y, de vez en cuando te sirven un té que parece un café largo de leche o un cola-cao - un líquido pálido, débil, un candidato ideal para la guadaña - demasiado débil para seguir vivo. No; los españoles no saben nada sobre el té y cuando no me apetece un café en un bar o restaurante no me queda otra opción:-ponme (no nos gusta la deferencia de usted) una copa de Magno, por favor- ah, sí, los españoles saben mucho sobre el brandy.

A todo el mundo le gusta hablar. Es muy natural, y aquí a los nativos les gusta preguntar sobre todos los detalles. No importa que haya un folleto, una hoja informativa, una octavilla o un cartel, colgada en la pared, con toda la información. Para los españoles preguntar y pedir es un deporte nacional. Es tan natural que sirve de excusa a los maleducados - las personas que se saltan la cola y dicen, como explicación de todo, -solo una pregunta.... -está perdonada por toda la cola desesperada sin remilgos. Nosotros somos distintos. Somos bastante tímidos en este asunto, tenemos nuestras costumbres. No nos gusta molestar a una persona, no queremos hacer perder el tiempo a los demás con tonterías. Por eso, habitualmente, preferimos leer la información. Un ejemplo muy cotidiano sea en un bar o restaurante, es: -Hola, buenos días, ¿tienes una lista de tapas o una carta, por favor? -Vale, señores, hoy tenemos un guiso de ternera estupendo, un arroz meloso muy rico, una lubina de primera -etcétera. Creo que para muchos restaurantes sería un pecado capital, peor que la lujuria o la gula, tener una carta escrita. De vez en cuando sí, hay una carta. -Pues,vamos a tomar cuatro croquetas de jamón, unos chopitos, las almejas...... -Lo siento no quedan ni chopitos ni almejas y las croquetas son de morcilla pero tenemos un guiso de ternera estupendo, un arroz...-. Pero mis favoritos son los eventos. -Eh, Chris, aquí hay un cartel que dice que hay fiestas patronales en el quinto pino, -ah, sí, y ¿cuándo son? -Uff, no lo sé, no hay ninguna fecha. O -Eh, Chris, aquí hay un cartel que dice que habrá un circo en el pueblo  -ah, sí, y ¿dónde estará? -Dice que está en el sitio de siempre. Supongo que todo el mundo, todo el mundo español, sabe cuál es el día de cada santo y cuáles son sus fechas o cuál es el sitio de siempre, pero yo no. Claro, no me queda otra opción - al bar. -Camarero, -¿Sí, señor, en qué puedo servirle? -Bueno no he podido encontrar ni las fiestas ni el circo y, en este momento, no me apetece un café, por favor, ponme una copa de Magno.