Tag Archives: learning spanish

My list of invaluable online resources as an expat living in Spain

15 May online resources, expat, living away from home, travel, blog, josh taylor

online resources, expat, living away from home, travel, blog, josh taylor

We had a power cut the other night.

I hate power cuts, and especially when they happen at night; I am invariably prevented from doing anything that I want to be doing (if my laptop battery is low, which is often) and I can’t boil the kettle or use the hob, therefore am unable to make myself a cup of tea, which causes the sort of anguish that no man should ever have to bare.

As a kid, I’d jump for joy if ever there were a power cut, and then rush off to the loft to unearth some dusty board game (usually Risk or Monopoly) while Mum sorted out the candles and Dad waited in a dark corner with the torch held under his chin, ready to click it on and petrify me when I emerged with the board game underarm.

On this occasion, my instinct reaction was very different. I swore, sighed, got up (still swearing), wandered off to fetch a candle and then began reading a book. Of course I like reading books, but not when I am forced to do so and generally not at night – it’s much more of a daytime, terrace, coffee and sunshine thing for me.

Inevitably, the lights flickered back into life within moments of having sat down, and my untimely, darkened interlude was over almost as abruptly as it had started. I drifted insentiently back to my computer and settled down into my swivel chair to resume my evening of mindless web browsing.

And that’s when it hit me – just how reliant I have become on the internet as a tool not only for casual distraction, but for everything I do. Before coming to Spain, I hadn’t been so unremittingly consumed with it; Facebook, uni stuff, fantasy football league and one or two news websites were just about the extent of my web browsing. Truthfully, I had neither the time nor reason to use it for other means.

Evidently, that’s all changed now, and after a bit of a ponder and several cups of Yorkshire’s finest, I’ve drawn up a list of the online resources that I deem to be categorically invaluable to me, as a young (barely), working, travel-fervid expat here in Spain.

If you live under similar circumstances or have done before, then perhaps you’ll be inclined to agree with some. If you’ve never called yourself ‘expat’ but are thinking about it, then I assure you, ALL of the following will be hugely helpful in the settling in process – I only wish I hadn’t had to find (most of) them myself…

#1 Couchsurfing

online resources, expat, living away from home, travel, blog, josh taylor

Fair enough, you don’t have to be an expat to become a ‘couchsurfer’ – the worldwide social networking site is for anyone, anywhere – but if you’re living away from home, you’ll invariably be surrounded by new and interesting places that you will no doubt want to investigate on a regular basis.

Couchsurfing is the perfect way to go about doing this. You save lots of pennies and meet lots of very agreeable, local people, who are likely to show you around town or at the very least send you on your way with an elaborately modified map.

What’s more, couchsurfing also offers expats the opportunity to meet other, like-minded people in their own cities. It wasn’t until my impromptu trip to Pamplona last March that I realised the potential benefits of attending regular meet-ups here in Granada. Before that experience, couchsurfing had only ever been a service I occasionally needed whilst travelling or offered to other travellers. Now I attend the Granada forum’s intercambio every week and meet new people from all over the world every week. It’s a huge part of my life.

#2 Car sharing websites

online resources, expat, living away from home, travel, blog, josh taylor

In a recent post about SOS 4.8 Festival in Murcia, I alluded to the Spanish car-sharing website amovens.com. This particular site is probably my favourite, as it never seems to let me down. I’ve also used blabacar.es and carpooling.es, albeit each on just one occasion, but both were equally as positive experiences.

To give you an idea of the savings I make using these types of sites, consider that a one-way train ticket to Seville from Granada costs €29 and lasts just over three hours. Now consider that I made that same journey in almost half that time at a third of the price. I’ll say it again…

There is of course that element of risk involved, but I’ve never heard any horror stories to put me off. Girls, understandably, are and ought to be more cautious, but like couchsurfing, many of these sites function on a reference-based system, so that any would-be passengers may give their would-be drivers the onceover before making arrangements. The golden rule is that you do not fall asleep; this is both rude and dangerous!

online resources, expat, living away from home, travel, blog, josh taylor

#3 Tusclasesparticulares.com

It took until my third year here in Spain to stumble across this gem of a site. Whether you are planning to stay in Spain as a short-term or long-term expat, you will, inevitably, at some point begin teaching English. It’s the easiest job to find and with a bit of luck you’ll be able to find a decent academy who treat their staff well. I am fortunate enough to be able to count myself among the few English teachers here in Granada who are paid well, on time and most important of all – legally. Others aren’t so lucky, and often find themselves scrapping for hours and desperately trying to seek out private students.

Tusclasespartiulares.com is a service that makes this issue a hell of a lot simpler. Students – of any language – and language teachers alike may create a profile and post short ads detailing their needs/services etc. Users can instantly see prices, hours of availability, relevant experience and so on.

Earlier this year, I created my own profile and received around 10 messages within the first week. Some came from private students and others from directors of local academies asking if I’d like to come for an interview for a part or in some cases full time position. It’s a surefire way to get the moneys rolling in.

online resources, expat, living away from home, travel, blog, josh taylor, teaching in spain

#4 Expatforum.com

This site provided me with answers when I needed them most.

Last year, I went through hell and back trying to replace my lost NIE at Granada’s oficina de extranjero (complainy post in the works). Those of you who already live in Spain will almost certainly be aware of just how infuriatingly slow and tedious Spanish bureaucracy can be. I was desperate for a new certificate so that I could legitimately claim el paro (extremely generous unemployment benefit) over my jobless summer, but ran into countless stumbling blocks along the way.

online resources, expat, living away from home, travel, blog, josh taylor

Hours of frantic Google searches led me to expatforum.com, where I was at last able to read something concerning the matter in English and, after registering as a user, send beseeching messages to the senior, Spanish bureaucracy hardened members. Eventually, I resolved my issue by requesting and subsequently being granted a temporary residence card, but I very nearly had to cry in order to get what I wanted. I didn’t cry, but probably would’ve done had it not been for some expert guidance via the Spain page on expat forum.

#5 Second-hand / flat-share websites

I’m guessing sites like this exist in just about every country by now. The US has Craigslist and the UK have spareroom.co.uk, gumtree.com and flatshare.com. All of them work amazingly well. Here in Spain, you have to look a bit harder for the better ones. I use easypiso.com (branch of easyroommate.com) and loquo.com to find potential places to live.

online resources, expat, living away from home, travel, blog, josh taylor

It’s just chaos in the mornings…

My first year using easypiso.com yielded a moderate apartment with excellent flat mates (except one, asshole) and the second pretty much the opposite way around; I now live in an incredible, modern, three-floor house with a terrace, patio and soundproof basement. However, my housemates and I do not get along, and I recently decided that, despite how in love I am with the house, the people with whom I live are more important, so I’ll be enlisting the services of easypiso or loquo once again this coming June.

I should also mention that loquo.com, as well as segundamano.es, are fantastic sites for buying second hand stuff. I’ve bought a phone, a bike and various other bits and pieces, and met with the seller in person every time. Waaay better than ebay.

 online resources, expat, living away from home, travel, blog, josh taylor

#6 Wordreference.com, NOT Google Translate

Thanks to wordreference.com, I am able to trick people who I only speak Spanish to on Facebook into thinking that my Spanish is completely flawless. I can use words like ‘diluviando’ or ‘quisquilloso’ or (personal fave) ‘zarrapastroso’ and pretend as though I didn’t just look it up in two seconds flat. Better still, each translation yields two, three or even four uses of the word in context, so you are able to choose which word suits what you want to say best.

The same cannot be said for the erroneous Google Translate. Often, a search for a single word will turn up numerable results, with no contexts given as examples. If an entire phrase or paragraph is copied, pasted and translated, the result is even more inaccurate, as complex grammatical structures somehow seem too much for Google’s gargantuan brain to deal with.

online resources, expat, living away from home, travel, blog, josh taylor

I must admit, since I downloaded the app for my smartphone I have perhaps become ever so slightly overindulgent. Beforehand, I used it as a quick fix whenever I was reading or writing in Spanish online. These days, it’s whenever I am momentarily unsure of how to say something, when in actual fact I could probably wrest it out of me if I just mulled it over for another minute.

#7 Twitter

online resources, expat, living away from home, travel, blog, josh taylor

Now no list of invaluable expat resources would be complete without giving an honourable mention to Twitter now would it? Frankly, I’d be lost without it.

Since finally giving in and joining shortly before Christmas, it has become an almost exclusive news resource for me. There is, however, a lot of distracting, pointless dross that when clicked on swallows up a good chunk of my day. And that isn’t good.

I can’t keep up with it to tell you the truth, but I do like retweeting things I find funny or interesting. I’d retweet this if I hadn’t already tweeted it.

God that’s the most incredibly twattish-sounding thing I’ve ever said on here.

 

Expats, would-be expats and er, ex-expats! What are your most invaluable resources in your adopted homeland? Do pitch in!

Mistakes. And why they should be cherished.

19 Mar mistakes, language, spanish, learning

We all make them. We all wince with embarrassment the moment one inadvertently escapes our lips, or as we gradually fathom in the aftermath of making one just why exactly asking for a ‘coño de chocolate’ from an ice-cream vendor is so funny to everybody else standing in line. We curse ourselves afterwards, and spend the next few seconds muttering under our breath what we should have said in a slightly deranged and neurotic way, until we get it right.

“Idiot. Stupid, feckless idiot. How can you get that wrong? UN CONO. UN CONO for god’s sake!”

This clanger was indeed one of my own, back in my early, early days in El Puerto de Santa María. If you speak a little Spanish, then you’ll probably have already pictured the scene quite accurately. If you don’t, then let’s just say that I picked a highly inappropriate moment, and establishment for that matter, to request a female sex organ of a darker variety. Yeah. Now you probably get the gist of it. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I then went on to say

“Estoy tan embarazado”

This was neither the right word nor an actual word, as embarazada is exclusively feminine (notice the final ‘a’) and, contrary to logical translation, actually means ‘pregnant’ ­– not ‘embarrassed’. So not only had I asked for a chocolate-covered youknowwhat but I’d also declared that I was prenatal afterwards. The latter of these, as I have recently come to learn, is not an uncommon mistake. Take this unlucky chap for instance. And Fiona, of Scribbler in Seville knows only too well the resulting agony of such blunders.

But once you’ve made a fair amount of them, the pregnancy embarrassment starts to wear off a bit. In fact, with a little time, mistakes actually become the best reference points for learning a language, whether hilarious or not. If the making of them is contextualized and dealt with appropriately, then the chances are that that mistake, if corrected, will never be forgotten, nor repeated.

This is a mindset I encourage in my students on an almost daily basis. Most of them don’t quite get it yet, but then making a mistake in a classroom filled with intently listening strangers is a very different matter. Adults, unsurprisingly, get the most hung up about it – nobody wants to look a fool. Kids, on the other hand, couldn’t give less of a shit. And I love it. Evidently, they love it too.

“Profe, profe! Puedo ir al baño por favor!?” pleads one as he wiggles before me, his crotch grasped by both hands.

“In English please.”

“Can I borrow your toilet please?”

I sigh.

“Yes”.

Two nearby girls overhear and burst into fits of giggles, before summoning the strength to repeat the error to the rest of the class, who then join in with the giggling. The perpetrator has long since departed, but upon his return is met with yet another wild outburst of laughter, which I unsuccessfully attempt to put a stop to, for fear of having to deal with a crying child (not one of my strong points as a teacher).

So you can imagine my delight when the child, upon realising his error, laughs instead of cries. Actually, he laughs more than anybody, and goes on to repeat the mistake over and over again. This pleases the others, and “Can I borrow your toilet please?” has now become something of a running joke, which I have given up correcting.

I realized after several tries that there was just no point. They were going to say it no matter what, purely to get a reaction out of their classmates. But that’s absolutely fine by me, because now everyone knows why it’s funny, and what the actual sentence should be. There’s no need for correction, because the mistake was contextualized and subsequently remembered by not just one student, but the whole class. Even if it has now become the most irritating thing in the world.

If you’re a language learner, do you find that making mistakes is the best way to learn? If not, what is?

How to (sort of) have an argument with your penny-pinching landlady whilst maintaining a decent and proper gentlemanly manner…in Spanish.

6 Feb usted, spain, spanish, learning spanish

Silly title isn’t it. Long, wordy and totally ignorant of that thing they call SEO. If I were a sensible blogger then I imagine I’d have probably gone for ‘How to use ‘usted’ in Spanish’, as this is in essence, the gristly meat and marrow of what I’m about to regale you with. But then that would be tantamount to false advertising, or just pure and simple deceptiveness – for I am no expert on the matter. I am but a mere specimen, raconteur and passer-on of my valuably learnt lessons. At least I am when I decide it’s high time I rambled on about how to do something in Spanish again.

Yes, this time I thought it necessary to enlighten anybody who cares enough to listen about my woes with the infinitely problematic (for me at any rate) formal tongue of Spanish: ‘Usted’. I very rarely have to use it. In fact, I’d never had to use it until I suddenly found myself facing the inevitability of having to contend with my brusque and blinkered landlady on the subject of unreturned deposits.

I didn’t have to use it, but I wanted to ­– it was an element of Spanish I had until then avoided, due by and large to an overall lack of opportunity. As a señora*, Conchi (her name) could reasonably expect to be addressed as one, which meant the shifting from regular Castellano to this, foreign, guiri-trying, genteel version. Essentially, any verb I conjugated which directly referenced her had to change from the regular second person form, for example ‘¿Como estás?’ to what would normally be the regular third person form, for example ‘¿Como está?’ Along with this omitted ‘s’ it is also necessary to insert ‘usted’ after the main verb and substitute ‘te’ for ‘se’ in a reflexive verb structure such as ‘¿porque se enoja?’ (why are you getting angry?) as opposed to ‘¿porque te enojas?’**.

After only having recently and properly got to grips with normal verb conjugation, I must admit that the task did seem rather daunting. I would, nonetheless, endeavour to do my best, not just because I wanted to practice using ‘usted’, but also in owing to the fact that I was a young English fellow eager to stamp certitude on the myth of impeccable British manners what what?

Before I disclose to you the rather sketchy dialogue of that haunting experience, perhaps illuming you with a word or two on the landlady who to her credit made this post possible wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

Throughout my first year in Granada, I steered well clear of the woman, leaving the terrifying exchanges to my female Spanish housemates, who would spend half an hour mentally preparing for the ordeal pre-arrival, only to be rendered flattened, figuratively disemboweled and scared beyond their wits post-arrival. When we had wanted to change a light bulb, for instance, but were unable to find another that matched the busted and wire-exposed deathtrap sprouting from our corridor ceiling, we were shouted at and told to stop being so lazy; we weren’t looking hard enough.

We searched high and low, chino por chino, and nary a fitting light bulb was found. We doggedly explained the futility of the situation and that the electrician whom she had had wire the place up must surely have known one’s whereabouts. But still, nothing. Eventually, we gave up and lived without light. Then one day, untrue to form, I absent-mindedly wandered down the pitch-black corridor, assuming one foot was being placed directly in front of the other, when I met with a protruding section of wall in a most abrupt and untimely manner. Blood literally gushed from my eyebrow and I had to pay a visit to A&E. Next day, when I rang Conchi to give her a piece of my now dented mind, I was, rather than grovelingly apologised to, politely reminded that it had been my responsibility to find a replacement in the first place. I was shell-shocked and incensed. Yet words deserted me. Instead I hung up, and hoped that I would never have to deal with the vile scorpion woman again.

Fast-forward six months and I’m the only one left in the flat. The Spanish girls have gone, and so too have the Frenchman and Italian Erasmus student. The latter had been the second-to-last to leave, and he did so without paying his last month’s rent. This left me in a rather sticky situation, as I had already paid my last month’s rent and was owed my deposit. Naturally, I was furious with him for leaving me in the lurch and facing the prospect of losing €220. Conchi, rather predictably, didn’t take the news well either, as she had neither the bank details nor phone number to debit the money/contact him with – we had always paid cash in hand. She did, however, assure me that his not paying would not affect the safe and full return of my deposit. This was a highly dubious promise and one that I fully anticipated to be broken.

Fast-forward another three months and the missing rent had still not been paid. And unsurprisingly, neither had my deposit. I called her from my mobile. No reply. I called her again. Nothing. Again, this time from a friend’s phone:

Conchi: Dime.

Me: Hola señora Conchi soy Josh. ¿Como estás? Digo ‘está’, perdona.

Conchi: ¿Que?

Me: Nada, lo sien-

Conchi: -Dime. ¿Que quiere?

Me: Si. Erm… me gustaría saber porque no me ha devuelto la fianza del año pasado. Me dijiste – digo ‘dije’, perdona ‘dijo’ – usted que iba a hacerlo incluso si no pagaba Fabio su alquiler. Y no me ha contestado cuando he intentado llamarte – perdona ‘le’ – digo ‘la’.

Conchi: ¿Como?

Me: Perdone señora Conchi, quizas no he estado cla-

Conchi: ¡E’cuchame! ¡Dile a Fabio que tiene que pagarme el alquiler de Junio! ¡Si no lo paga no puedo devolverte nada!

Me: Si, Conchi le he dicho pero no puedo hacer más, y tu – perdona ‘usted’ – me dij-

Conchi: -¡E’cuchame! ¡Dile al Fabio que tiene que pagarme el alquiler de Junio!

Me: Señora Conchi como te – perdona ‘usted’, digo ‘le’ – he dicho ya, he hecho todo lo que puedo-

Conchi: -¡Dile al Fabio que tiene que pagarme el alquiler de Junio y ya está.

Me: Pero-

usted, spain, spanish, learning spanish

‘If you love a woman, leave her to drink by herself. If she calls you when drunk she’s all yours – if she turns off her phone, she never was yours’ Source

English:

Conchi: Tell me.

Me: Hello Mrs. Conchi it’s Josh, how are you? I mean ‘how are you?’ (formal) Sorry.

Conchi: What?

Me: Nothing, I’m sor-

Conchi: -Tell me. What do you want?

Me: Yes. I’d like to know why you haven’t paid back my deposit from last year. You told me – I mean ‘I told me’, sorry ‘you told me’ (formal) – that you were going to do it even if Fabio didn’t pay his rent. And you haven’t answered me when I’ve tried to call you – sorry ‘you’ (formal).

Conchi: What?

Me: Sorry Mrs. Conchi, maybe I haven’t been cle-

Conchi: -Listen to me! Tell Fabio that he has to pay June’s rent! If he doesn’t pay it I can’t give you anything back!

Me: Yes Conchi I’ve told him but I can’t do any more, and you – sorry ‘you’ (formal) – told me th-

Conchi: -Listen to me! Tell Fabio that he has to pay June’s rent!

Me: Mrs. Conchi as I have told you– sorry ‘you’ (formal) – already, I’ve done everything that I can-

Conchi: -Listen to me! Tell Fabio that he has to pay June’s rent and that’s the end of it.

Me: But-

She hung up. Just as well really– my (almost) impeccable British manners were wearing pretty thin after a mere two-minute exchange, though I could see her point, even if she had lied to me. All things said and done it was probably time to cut my losses, but not before one last dashed attempt at convincing Fabio to pay up. I did so via Facebook and heard nothing for weeks. Then, miraculously, a message appeared in my inbox that read:

‘Hola Josh, I paid Conchi the deposit two weeks ago and asked her to let you know. I hope she has done it. Fabio.’

She bloody well hadn’t done it. Enraged, I grabbed my mobile and called her. No reply, obviously. Again from a friend’s phone:

Conchi: Dime.

Me: Hola Conchi soy Josh. Acabo de hablar con Fabio y- (I’ve just spoken to Fabio and-)

She hung up. And that was the last time we ever spoke – I was past caring after trying to contact her for several weeks following that. It was over, and while she may have robbed me of my money, I could take solace in the fact that my manners had stayed well intact. And in some ways that’s a victory. In some ways.

*the actual crossover point from señorita to señora is a blurry one and can often lead to impromptu looks of horror and outrage/bumbling awkward apologies, but more on that another time

**there is no doubt, a whole lot more to it than that but as I said – I am no expert. I only know and use that much!

When do you use ‘usted’ if you speak Spanish? Do you find it easy to shift into it? Have you ever encountered a similarly horrid landlady or had trouble with claiming back deposits?

A Spanish Inquisition: East of Málaga

28 Jan Spanish Inquisition, spain, expat, interview

One thing I quickly discovered when I first started this blog was that reading other peoples’ was a key principle to the notion of blogging and fundamentally important if I wanted my own blog to do well. At first, I must confess I did feel rather inundated with the amount of all-singing, all-dancing, super-duper blogs that would pop up on my reader and I tried in vein not to compare them to my tiny, insignificant, feebly themed own. Eventually though, this blog envy quietly subsided and I started to pay more attention to what I was actually reading as opposed to the designs and award widgets etc.

Now, I am an avid reader of countless other blogs and my poor inbox is now drowning in a sea of unread posts, likes, weekly digests and newsletters. I do eventually get around to reading them, but I am easily distracted and often read only one before inadvertently falling down a sort of cyberspace rabbit hole – something I’m sure most of us can probably relate to!

spanish_inquisition

But then we all have our favourites don’t we? As in the ones that just can’t wait to be feasted upon; the ones that automatically leapfrog their way to front of the ever-increasing queue the moment they are published. ‘A Spanish Inquisition‘ is (or rather will be) an interview series that highlights and profiles some of these favourite blogs of mine, and the clever and creative expatriates responsible for them. The series will explore why, where, for how long and how the featured expat lives (or ended up living) in Spain, with a few decent tips and anecdotes thrown in for good measure. If you’re considering a move to Spain or another foreign country then I’m sure this would be positively useful reading for you. If you’re not, then read on anyway. Maybe you’ll change your mind.

The first expat to be featured in ‘A Spanish Inquisition’ is none other than Marianne Elizabeth, the brains behind East Of Málaga, a superb blog which was recently awarded bronze in the Spain division of the BlogExpat awards and picked up easyjet’s ‘Blogger Of The Month‘ award back in September of last year. Lawyer-turned-EFL Teacher, traveller, writer, photographer and self-proclaimed arctophile, Marianne tells us about Malága, lesser-known bull runs and the importance of waking up to bags of lemons. So, without any further ado…

A Spanish Inquisition – East of Malaga

Spanish Inquisition, spain, expat, interview

Name:  Marianne Elizabeth

From:  Originally from Lytham St Annes, a Lancashire town on the north-west coast of England.

Occupation:  I was a criminal lawyer back in England, but that was then. These days, I am fortunate enough to be largely able to do what I want, which increasingly includes writing, taking photographs, travelling and blogging.

Time in Spain:  I’ve lived in Andalucía for 8 years and I love it!

Blogging credentials:  I only got into blogging more seriously this past summer but my blog, East of Málaga, now has over 1100 followers. I was fortunate to have been named “Blogger of the Month” by EasyJet Holidays in September 2012 and have recently been voted one of the top-three expat blogs in Spain in the recent BlogExpat awards.

1.   Complete this sentence:

“Spain is a beautiful and diverse country, filled with mountainsolive trees and a great road network. However, there is too much bureaucracy and not enough jobs for citizens prepared to work hard.

2.   Why did you move to Spain? Why Málaga? 

Moving to live abroad was something me and my hubby talked about for years before we finally did it. We chose Spain and in particular the province of Málaga because of the very mild winter weather and the friendly people.

3.   What is one of Málaga’s best kept secrets?

The city of Málaga itself is a wonderful secret and is often overlooked.  Most people use the airport for arrival in the Costa del Sol and then travel on to their final destination without exploring the many delights the city has to offer. Màlaga is a great city for shopping, restaurants, monuments, markets and much, much more.

4.   How would you describe the culture here? What type of people tend to thrive, and what type don’t do as well?

Spanish culture is very family-orientated, with lots of fiestas and festivals.  If you want to fit in, be prepared to join in with whatever’s going on and practice your language skills. The people who don’t fit in very well are the expats who compare everything to their home country, buy all their grocery from “English shops”, have no language skills and only have English-speaking friends.

5.   What have been (briefly) the best three experiences you’ve had since moving here?

a) Discovering tapas and finding new places to eat them!

b) Visiting and getting to know the classic Andalucían cities of Granada, Córdoba and Seville.

c) Waking up one morning during the first six months we lived in the village of Frigiliana, and finding a big bag of lemons hanging from the front door knob from our Spanish neighbours. It meant we belonged!

Spanish Inquisition, Spain, interview, expat

6.   What has been the worst? And how could it have been avoided?

Being so far away from England when a close relative was terminally ill. Even though we are less than a three hour flight away, being able to get regular/last minute flights during peak tourist months can prove to be difficult and very expensive. It couldn’t be avoided as far as I can see.

7.   How much Spanish could you speak before you moved to Spain? What’s the best way to learn?

I could only speak a few words – basic greetings, numbers and a few standard phrases. The best way to learn is to get stuck in and practice. It doesn’t matter if you get things wrong – people will help you out if they can see you trying.

8.   Money is a thorny issue for any would-be expat. Do you have any tips on working, saving, banking etc?

I would say to carefully consider your finances, think about what you really want from your move to Spain and DO YOUR RESEARCH.  How are you going to support yourself? Bear in mind there is 25% unemployment here, (and even more among the under 25s) so finding a job might prove difficult.

Rent before you buy for twelve months, to include every season. It´s very different living here full-time, as opposed to visiting only during peak holiday periods.

9.   Finally, what’s the best photo you’ve ever taken in Spain? Tell us about it!

Well, I don’t know about the best photo but I can certainly tell you about one of the most fun!   It was taken during the annual Bull Run in the village of Frigiliana. Held each June, I guess you could say this is a scaled-down version of the festival held in Pamplona each year, except they only use young bulls.  The young men of the village try to show their bravado or, in this case, how fast the can run!

spanish inquisition, spain, expat, interview

Bull running in Frigiliana

Marianne is a former lawyer, EFL teacher, neophyte blogger, petrol-head, amateur photographer, traveller, English woman and shameless arctophile. For the past eight years she has lived in Andalucía, in a beautiful area, known as La Axarquía. Through her website, East of Málaga, you can learn about the many delightful villages and towns, the fiestas and festivals, and discover what it is really like to live on the southern coast of Spain on a day-to-day basis.

Think you know Spanish? Think again

26 Nov Andalusia, Andalucuía, Andaluz, Spain

Andalusia, Andalucuía, Andaluz, SpainOk, those of you who reside in, or have ever visited the Andalucían province of our beloved España will surely know where this is going, but for those of you who don’t/haven’t, let me just clear one thing up: we don’t speak ‘Spanish’ here. At least not the Spanish you’ll have heard on TV or learnt at school. Oh no. Grab the nearest umbrella or have a Kleenex at the ready because here, we speak what is known as ‘Andaluttthhh!’ (which is actually spelt ‘Andaluz’ but now you get the point).

If you’re planning a trip to Spain, you may have been all clever and had the foresight to enroll in a 10-hour language crash course. Well done you. It’ll surely come in handy in Madrid. But let’s assume that, like most tourist itineraries often tend to be, a sizable chunk of your trip will be spent reconnoitering the rural plains of Andalusia, with all-but obligatory stop-offs in Seville, Granada and Cadiz. Here, that crash course will feel about as worthwhile as a pedal-powered wheelchair would to Steven Hawking.

“But what about this fantastic pocket-sized book on useful Spanish words and phrases? Surely that’ll help?” I hear you cry.

Well, go to the window, now open it, and take that book and hurl it as far as you can, because as soon as you say something, you’ll most likely encounter a reply unintelligible to most other Spaniards, let alone you.

Perhaps I’m overstating it a bit. If it’s not too late, maybe don’t throw your useful book out the window- that’d just be silly. Lots of Andalucians speak the language beautifully, and are often very accommodating and willing to adjust their natural speech patterns when it comes to dealing with helpless tourists. But be warned- there still exist many Spaniards who are not so obliging. Let me paint you a picture or two:

I had just arrived in Granada, and in realization of the fact that my Spanish was clearly not up to scratch to be living with Spanish people, I wasted no time in finding somebody to start an intercambio with (basically a short, informal language exchange between two people). I sent out an invitation online, and received several very enthusiastic responses the same day. I chose Juan, as he and I seemed to share some common interests. So, the day of our first meeting arrived and we met at a local café. We sat down, ordered our drinks and began:

Me (in my best possible Spanish): Hola! Mucho gusto. ¿Como estás?

Juan: Bien gracia’. Entonce’ dime- ¿cuanto tiempo ma’ o meno’ lleva’ aqui en E’paña?

Now, all you Spanish speakers will no doubt be able to picture exactly how I must have looked upon hearing this. For everybody else, imagine how confused a foreigner with minimal English would be if he sat down for a chat with Kenny Dalglish. All those apostrophes are ordinarily substituted with s’s, and had there been a single one in Juan’s opening line then I might have just grasped what he was saying to me. The rough translation is ‘Fine thanks. So tell me- how long have you lived in Spain for?’ I got the first bit at least.

Confused, Andaluz, Spain

¿Como?

I didn’t meet up with Juan again. It was a lost cause- his accent was just too strong. This came as a particularly dispiriting blow seeing as how I’d just completed a year in Cadiz, where the locals are even harder to understand- I’ll never forget my lovely chats with the old woman who I would sometimes bump into on the communal terrace when I went up to hang the washing out. I’d write a dialogue, but there’s nothing to write. I simply couldn’t understand a word. I just smiled and nodded in agreement as she unremittingly gabbled on in that curiously monotone, nasal and consonant-less voice of hers. I occasionally chipped in with a ‘si’ or a ‘claro’ but politely asking her to repeat or speak more slowly was futile.

Even just understanding a simple ‘goodbye’ took some getting used to. I knew already that ‘hasta luego’ meant ‘see you later’ and felt that I could pronounce it rather well. That means nothing though, when what you’re hearing sounds nothing like what you’re saying; ‘a’ta luego’ is what the locals say where I lived in El Puerto de Santa Maria. But venture further south into the heart of Cadiz and you’ll soon find that that is relatively clear in comparison to what comes out of the mouths of the city’s ‘true’ Gaditanos; ‘ta wego’, or ‘ta we’o’ and even just ‘we’o’, which is essentially just a grunt, are perfectly acceptable ways of saying goodbye here.

Andalusia, Spain

Thankfully, I am now no longer baffled by this so-called ‘bad’ or ‘lazy’ Spanish. In the space of two years I have come from absolutely loathing the fact that I had to put up with it, to understanding it, respecting it and even using it myself (much to the delight of my Andalucían housemates).

As a language teacher, I whole-heartedly believe that there is no such thing as ‘badly spoken Spanish’, rather it is, just like any other language, undergoing the natural process of change, and such instances of elusive or completely omitted ‘s’s and ‘d’s etc, are merely examples of this fascinating process, even if they do leave the intended recipients squinting in utter bewilderment.

Are you an expat in, or have you been to Andalusia or another part of Spain with an incredibly thick accent? Have you ever had any similar experiences? I’d love to hear about them.

*Proud Andalucíans defending their accent!*

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