We believe that we have elsewhere noted the utter hopelessness that is the lot of Andalucía's educational system - doomed seemingly forever to issue forth the retards of Europe. One could easily be forgiven for thinking that this is yet another case of the land of fandangos, sun and thank-you-very-much-please bollocksing up anything that requires even the most minimal administrative skills. We, however, believe it goes deeper than this.The writer's dear, departed (the assessment made by the first adjective clearly dependent on the truth of the latter) aunt Fe, in those rare moments in which she was not bellowing vitriol at some underling, would recount an incident which took place in a local restaurant. The waitress, recently released from high school, after taking the bulk of la Feíta's order and learning that the client wished to drink water, asked:
¿Agua con gas, o agua líquida?
Now, readers familiar with the Spanish language (knowing that the former is what is called 'sparkling water' in English and the latter 'flat') will immediately realize that the young lady had studied physics before launching herself into a career serving the hungry public. Both how tantalizingly close she came to understanding the material and how irremediably distant she remained for all her best efforts illustrate the challenge faced by educators in this part of the world. How do you teach people who upon encountering anything new or unknown immediately find something within their own experience to which it is similar and, upon successfully achieving this, assume they have understood the material? Life as an endlessly repeating series of similes.
Examples of this abound in these parts. The most recent that we came across was when we were being shown the garage in which we had recently purchased a parking spot. Located on the Calle de los Pósteles*, the entrance came equipped with an automatic door triggered by an infrared zapper. The guide's only lament was that the cédulas had not yet been installed - not referring to the final occupation license issued by the town hall (or even the covered bond into which the financing bank rolled up residents' mortgages) but to the photo cell that prevents the door from closing whilst a car is still in its path. Célula was the word he was striving to communicate but, since it was new, he immediately turned it into something already known.
*The humour of the situation is amplified a few fold when one knows the origin of the street's name. Pósteles is, obviously, the plural of the word, póstel. Not to be found in the RAE dictionary, it is the local corruption of poste, a lamp, electric or telephone pole.
That this has been institutionalized as a street name has not escaped the attention of Google Maps.
Trevor has popped up a YouTube performance by Spanish comedian, Chiquito de la Calzada. The southern version of Castillian with which he so beautifully brings his audiences to tears is known as costero. It is spoken, in forms some less intelligible than others, all along the Mediterranean and Atlantic coasts from Motril, in Granada province, to Ayamonte, on the border with Portugal. His is the Málaga version.
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We threatened a couple of weeks ago to quit blogging and go back to the land. The rain which interrupted that plan has now gone away, so posts may find themselves substituted by photographs in the meantime. All were taken by the writer's niece, Rocío, who was visiting from the Big City this weekend.










