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A Foot in Two Campos

Thoughts from a brand new home-owner in the Axarquía region of Málaga. I hope there might be some information and experiences of use to other new purchasers, plus the occasional line to provoke thought or discussion.

105 - The Drawer of Abandonment
Thursday, May 29, 2014

It all began with "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix".  In the school of wizardry, Hogwarts, the Room of Requirement is a magic room, which only appears when someone has real need of it, and in it can be found the thing that is most needed.  I have something very similar in my house.  The Cupboard of Requirement is a magic cupboard, apparently, which always contains the thing I most need. 

It made its first appearance last year on the day of Corpus Christi (60- Let's Prop Jesus on a Ladder).  The women of my street needed another crocheted tablecloth-type thing and were beginning to get flustered.  I knew that one had been left in my house by the previous owners but I had no idea where.  Then I remembered that strange old traditional Spanish cupboard, with curtains shading the (presumably) precious belongings, and two drawers below.  Yes!  There was a carefully-folded crocheted tablecloth-type thing, just perfect for stringing across the street to shade Jesus' portrait.  I had never wanted it before, nor since.  It probably isn't there ... it only existed that day, because it was needed.

The Cupboard of Requirement contains a glass for every necessary drink (and a good few unnecessary ones too).  There is an old fax machine which may or may not work, and an assortment of cables.  There are two eggcups and a cocktail stirrer that hangs on its own stand.  There is an assortment of tissue paper, and an enormous quantity of china plates.  A cute little rack of four teeny-weeny coffee cups.  And a golf trophy that once held a biro (now missing).  One day each of these things will be exactly what is needed.  Added to the treasure are one or two items of my own that had no logical home elsewhere.  A big plate from the Waterside Inn at Bray, and Mum's tiny sewing kit in her battered old wooden cigarette box.  Not used often, barely remembered, but one day they will find a use, and then perhaps a different shelf in another room. 

So the cupboard got its name after it successfully produced what was needed for Corpus Christi.  Meanwhile upstairs in the guest bedroom a drawer was slowly accumulating odd things that guests had left behind.  Liquid things, mostly, that were bought here and couldn't be taken back until airport security finally develops a system to differentiate between potentially dangerous liquids, and shampoo or suncream.  And sharp things, that can't be taken in cabin luggage.

The Drawer of Abandonment has almost as many goodies as the Cupboard of Requirement.  A variety of suncreams, not surprisingly.  Toothpaste, toothbrushes, razors, perfume, various skin creams and shampoos, a couple of adaptor plugs, several pairs of nail scissors and tweezers.  Smuggled in, some of them, but too risky to smuggle back out.

Below the wardrobe are a pair of Gordon's trainers and a pair of Paul's sandals, abandoned for anyone to use.  A few pairs of soft spa slippers for guests unused to tiled floors. 

It's the things that people like to have around them, yet in the end they can't take them away with them.   It's all in there, yet every visitor brings more, and leaves yet more behind.  In the end, everything we have goes into the Drawer of Abandonment. 

 

©  Tamara Essex 2014

 

THIS WEEK'S LANGUAGE POINT:

My neighbour has an enormous family.  Her sons and daughters and their wives and husbands and countless children fill our tiny street at fiesta times, impossible to tell them all apart.  But many are useful – Manolo and Antonio are excellent plumbers and electricians, and Lorenzo is a very skilled builder.  So when a friend was seeking an architect, it occurred to me that there might be one in Rafaella’s brood.  I stopped her husband outside yesterday and asked him if amongst his many children he had an architect.  “No” he replied.  “Mi hijo es perrito” … at least that’s what I thought he said.  Bit rude, I thought, to say his son is a little dog.  He repeated it several times.  I thanked him, confirmed that definitely none of his children were architects, and wandered off.  Checking in the dictionary later it turns out he was saying “Mi hijo es perito” with just the one r (not rolled so much as the double r) which is a useful word for an expert, a loss-adjuster, an expert witness, or a skilled person.  But not for an architect, which not surprisingly is “arquitecto”.



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104 - All the Language Points in One Place
Thursday, May 22, 2014

LANGUAGE POINTS COLLECTED TOGETHER

A number of people have asked for all the Language Points to be drawn together into one reference document, as when they have gone to look something up they have had to scroll through endless posts looking for it.  So here they are.  I think I’ve captured them all.  I’ll keep this updated every few weeks, and will also leave it pinned to the top menu of “Favourite Posts” in its other home at www.twocampos.com  so it’s easy to find.  Hope that’s useful!

 

54 - Gerund (...ing)

In English we use the gerund (“-ing” form) after “thank you for”, as in “Thank you for calling me” and “Thank you for sending it to him”.  But in Spanish we use the infinitive, so it’s “Gracias por llamarme” and “Gracias por enviarselo.”

 

55 - Estuve / estaba

I need to remember to use estuve to say I was somewhere in the past, rather than yo estaba which is the continuous tense.  Why can’t I remember estuve?  Is it because it’s irregular?  Estuve en Marbella la semana pasada.  I was in Marbella last week.  Estuvimos en el bar hasta muy tarde.  We were in the bar until very late

 

56 - Word Order

We’re taught that adjectives go after the noun in Spanish, and of course that’s usually true – except when it doesn’t!  Adjectives that describe size or quantity often go before the noun, as in gran hermano (big brother) and so do “first /second” as in la primera planta or el segundo plato.   But the other time the adjectives goes first is for emphasis or when there’s a strong emotion, such as esta aislada ciudad (this isolated city), or un resonante exito (a resounding success) or in an epithet such as malditos Yanquis (damn Yankees!).

 

57 - Tildes & Accents

Why accents are so important, even from the very beginning …..

Mi papá tiene 47 años = My father is 47 years old.

Mi papa tiene 47 anos = My potato has 47 anuses.

And some teachers tell you accents don’t matter?  Pffffff.


59 – Paco:

Well, not so much a language learning point, more the answer to the question we’ve all been asking ourselves …. Just how is “Paco” any sort of short form of Francisco?  Well there IS logic behind this, after all!  Saint Francis of Assisi was the father of the Franciscan order of monks.  Within that order his name was written as Pater Comunitatis – father of the community. “Paco” comes from the first syllable of each word.  Simples!

 

60 -Soy / Estoy

So many “false friends”!   I get confused between sensible and sensitive – I’m a bit sensitive, or I’m a bit emotional, is “Estoy un poco sensible”.  But if I DO want to say that I’m sensible, or rational, it’s “Soy una persona sensata.”  The first is “estoy” because it’s a temporary state of being, whereas in the second it is a fundamental characteristic so it is “soy”.

And note the male/female endings here … even though I’m female it is still “un poco” in the first example, and in the second “sensata” remains the same for men because “una persona” is female, even if you’re not!   Hope that makes sense :-)

 

61 – Already:

“Already” and “yet” give me grief, and Jose my intercambio partner has been drilling me on them.  “Already” is not so hard – Ya se ha ido – he has already gone.  Ya hemos empezado – we have already started.  Ya he pedido – I have already asked, or I’ve already ordered (that’s particularly good in cafes, when a second waiter comes to ask what you want).

But “yet” …. that changes depending if it is positive or negative.  Ya lo has limpiado?  Have you cleaned it yet?  Si, ya lo he limpiado.  Yes, I have cleaned it already.  No, no lo he limpiado aún.  No, I haven’t cleaned it yet.  Aún no lo he leido.  I haven’t read it yet. 

 

62 - Volver

Volver – to return.  Buying a return train ticket – ida y vuelta.  But used much more frequently about “doing something again”.  Ha vuelto a escribir de nuevo.  He/she has started to write again.  Hemos vuelto a hacer deporte.  We are back to playing sport.  Has vuelto a recuperar tu vida.  You are recovering your life anew.  Phrases including this need quite “free” translation – as in these three examples, you can use any English phrase that sounds right and means coming back to something or doing it again.

 

63 - Reflexives

I have many bad habits.  But the one that Juanmi at http://www.axalingua.com/ is currently trying to drum out of me is that I seem to avoid the reflexive verbs.  I keep asking “¿Es posible andar aquí?” Is it possible to walk here?  Or “¿Está permitido andar aquí?”  Is it permitted to walk here?  Those are both sort of OK but not what a Spanish person would say.  I should be asking “¿Se puede andar aquí?” Can one walk here?  Similarly I keep saying “XYZ está usado …” XYZ is used.  When I should say “se usa …”.  Examples – “Se usa para cocinar” and “Se usa en la cocina”.  It’s used for cooking.  It’s used in the kitchen.  Useful phrases for the ferretería (ironmongers).

 

64 - Se me da mal cocinar

I’m struggling this week.  My teacher, Juan-Mi, is pushing me on those verbs that talk about your emotions and your abilities.  I’m OK with “Me da miedo” (it frightens me, or literally “it gives me fear”), but cannot work out why sometimes it needs to be “Se me da mal cocinar” for example.  “I’m rubbish at cooking”, or literally “Cooking gives it bad to me” or something like that!  I suppose I just have to learn it, but I know I learn better when I can see a glimmer of logic, and this one has me stumped.  Anyone got any tips for me on this?

 

65 - Sorting Se me da mal cocinar ...

Well, between a few of us we seem to have cracked the problem of “Se me da mal cocinar”.  I may not explain this very well, but it seems that we need the “Se” in this construction because the thing that goes badly is a verb.  To cook.  OR … a noun that is acting as a replacement for a verb eg “Se me da mal la cocina” does not mean the kitchen is bad for me, but cooking.  It’s when it is some sort of activity.  Similarly, “Se me dan mal las matematicas” is using the noun for maths, but as a replacement for the activity of DOING maths.

So as far as I can see, the “Se” is because it is sort of a reflexive verb ….. IT ( the cooking or the maths) is giving it bad to me.   “Se me da mal cocinar” or “Se me da mal la cocina”.

Not sure how clear that is as an explanation, but it had helped me get it clearer in my head.  And now I have a bit of a reason for why it is the way it is, I can set that aside and just try and remember to use it!

 

66 - Me cuesta ...

Along the same lines as my recent problem with “Se me da mal hablar en publico” (I am no good at public-speaking), I am also struggling with “Me cuesta ….” (literally it costs me, but meaning I find it difficult or I struggle with it).  “Me cuesta entender este verbo.” (I’m struggling to understand this verb!).  “Te cuestan las matemáticas?”  Are mathematics hard for you?”

“Me cuesta leer un libro en español, aunque me resulta fácil leerlo en ingles.”  “I struggle to read a book in Spanish, although I find it easy to read it in English.”  I managed to get the exercise on this that Juan-Mi had set me excruciatingly wrong.  Fortunately the language school is closed for August so I have a few weeks to get it right (along with the mountain of homework he has set me).

 

67 - Joder!

A “made phrase” or “una frase hecha” that it might be safer to avoid – but worth understanding for when you hear it!  “Ajo y agua”  literally means ‘garlic and water’ in Spanish, but it is actually a contraction of  ”A JOderse Y AGUAntarse”, which can be taken to mean something like this: “You messed up big-time, and now you have to deal with it.”  Stronger words may be imagined!

For example:

Rafael:   “La engañé a mi novia con otra. Pero ella se enteró y me abandonó.”  “I cheated on my girlfriend with another.  But she found out and she left me.”

Juan:  “Ajo y agua.”

 

68 - Sentir & Sentar

I’m behind with my homework.  Fortunately my intercambio meetings continue through August so Jose is my “Profe #1” this month.  I got really confused between sitting and feeling.  Quite different, but in the “I” form, the same.

Sentir – to feel;  Sentar – to sit.

No problem in the second or third person – “Te sientes feliz?”  Do you feel happy?  “Te sientas allí?”  Are you sitting there?  “El se siente feliz.”  He feels happy.  “El se sienta aqui” He is sitting here.  Plurals are fine too.  No it’s the first person singular (me) that throws the untranslatable cat amongst the proverbial pigeons!

“Me siento aqui?”  May I sit here?    “Me siento feliz.”  I feel happy.

 

I guess I’ll just have to hope the two meanings don’t coincide in some inconvenient juxtaposition – something about “Could I feel happy sitting here, do you think???”

 

69 - Double meanings

Part of my homework before my next lesson is to list some famous titles from English literature, and translate them into Spanish.  Of course it was tempting to go for “Jane Eyre”, “David Copperfield” and “1984″ but I don’t think I’d have got away with it.  A few I could cheat on, looking in a bookshop for the official Spanish translation.  Browsing, I spotted one that didn’t seem quite right.  “Cincuenta Sombras de Grey” it said (OK I know I’m stretching the word “literature” here).  Well I take issue with that as a translation, on at least two counts.  The surname HAS to be translated to “Gris” as it HAS to be a colour as well as a person, or the fifty shades don’t make sense.  And indeed it is important that the colour is grey (gris) because shades of grey is quite evocative, indicating complexity but also a darkness, an absence of colour.  But my bigger problem is the use of the word “sombras“.  Yes, shade, of a kind, or shadows.  But the double-meaning inherent in “Fifty Shades of Grey” is lost.  It means nuances, variations, inconsistencies ….. it means “shades” in all the myriad meanings of that word!  In Spanish, different shades of paint colours are matices, the plural of matiz.  But Spanish friends explained that wouldn’t work.  So maybe the translator is right, perhaps sombras is the best word.  But it loses the double-meaning, and leaves me frustrated.

Hmm.  This homework is making me think!  Any suggestions on how to improve “Fifty Shades of Grey”?  Or any other good or bad book-title translations I could use?

 

70 - Parts of the Body

Staying on the health theme, it has always interested me that in Spanish we refer to the parts of our bodies not as MY head or MY fingers, but THE head and THE fingers.  So that the English “My head hurts” becomes “Me duele la cabeza” (the head is hurting me).  My intercambio partner looked puzzled when I asked why this is, and pointed out that it was unlikely that anyone else’s head would be hurting me, so to say “my” head was both unnecessary and (to Spanish ears) rather ego-centric.  And this is the main reason for mentioning it here – it’s one of the things they laugh at us for!  We sound very self-obsessed when we say “Me duele mi cabeza” so it’s worth trying to get this one right.

 

71 - Closed, bolted & barred

Some friends were chatting about “frases hechas” (“made phrases”, or what we would call “sayings”) and one Spanish man explained that “un acento cerrado, a cal y canto” which I had written about a few weeks ago in “Can’t Be Translated”, is even more complicated than I’d thought.  “Un acento cerrado, a cal y canto” translates as “A closed accent, bolted and barred”, meaning a very thick or strong accent.  But in fact “a cal y canto” means something more like “belt and braces”, or doubly-sure.  And that makes sense in the “bolted and barred” translation.  A younger Spaniard had heard the phrase but didn’t understand it, as the words literally mean “lime and stone”, and when the first man was explaining it was something to do with painting a surface, then finishing it off or smoothing it down, I couldn’t follow the detail.  But it certainly seems as though “belt and braces” is a good translation!

 

72 - Eso and ese

I did my first Spanish lessons at an Adult Education course held in Shaftesbury School.  Now I’m pretty sure that things like “this” and “that” would have been learned in Year One.  So I guess I must have missed a week somewhere along the line.  Because how could it have taken me until now to get “ese”, “eso” and “esa” right?

If you’re anything like me, the “o” masculine ending and the “a” feminine ending are pretty well stuck into the old brain.  And yes we know about the exceptions such as “un día”,el agua” etc.  But I was gob-smacked when Jose corrected me in our inter-cambio session when I said “eso libro” – that book.  “No” he said, “ese libro – porqué es masculino.”  “Si, por supuesto” I replied – “el libro, eso libro”.  “No” he insisted, “el libro – ese libro”.  “Ese” is the masculine form of “that” – despite all logic!  And we only use “eso” when the object is unknown.  For example if someone is holding a box, we might ask “¿Que es eso?” because we don’t know if the thing in the box is masculine or feminine.

Pfff.   Year One basics.  And I didn’t know that.  Oh and it goes for “éste”, “ésta” and “ésto” too.

 

74 – Enchufe

There is a great word in Spanish – enchufe.   I first read about it in the wonderful book “In the Garlic” by Theresa O’Shea and Valerie Collins – everybody’s guide to unraveling the complexities of Spain   

http://inthegarlic.com/in-the-garlic-book/    Look up enchufe in the dictionary and you are told it is a plug of the electric variety.  But here’s the excerpt from “In the Garlic” (which in Spanish means “In the Know”) ….:

“Plug, to plug in, and one of the keys to grasping the mechanics of Spanish life.  An enchufe is not only a lump of pronged plastic needed to start up your computer /toaster/television, it also comes in the shape of a life-size, strategically situated human being.  This flesh-and-blood enchufe may work high up in the place where you have applied for a job.  He or she may know a specialist you need to see.  Or be on the board of governors of a select school.  If your enchufe is high up enough, you may be able to jump the queue where it matters.  Grossly unfair, of course, but no-one ever looks a gift plug in the prongs.”

 

75 – Ing-ing

In English we use the “…ing” ending much more than they do in Spanish.  Shame, really, because it’s one of those Spanish constructions that it quite easy to remember, once I had twigged that the N in iNg corresponded to the N in hablaNdo and comieNdo etc.

We would say “Did you have difficulty findING a place to live?” whereas in Spanish it is“¿Tuviste dificultad para encontrar un lugar para vivir?” using the infinitive.  Or in English “It was a waste of time readING that book” but in Spanish “Fue una perdida de tiempo leer ese libro”.  Another example – “There’s no point havING a car if you never use it” translates as “No tiene sentido tener un coche si no lo usas nunca.”   Finally – “It’s no good askING Tom” becomes “No sirve nada pedirselo a Tom.”

So in Spanish we need to remember to use the infinitive much more instead of the …ing ending.  Oh and this is just as hard for Spanish people!  Despite speaking English at a pretty high level, my intercambio friend Jose sometimes slips up and would say “It was a waste of time to read that book” or “Did you have difficulties to find a place to live?”   When he makes a small error like that, it helps me to understand that if I get the same thing wrong, I will be understood but the person listening will just trip up slightly thinking it didn’t sound right, and might miss the sense of what I’m trying to say.

 

76 – Rrrrrrrrr

Friends are now beginning to “bully” me about the finer points of Spanish pronunciation.  This week on two separate occasions I was given a sentence to practice.  Evil, both of them!

El perro de San Roque no tiene rabo, porque Juan Ramón Rodriguez se lo ha cortado.  The dog of San Roque doesn’t have a tail, because Juan Ramón Rodriguez cut it off.

La lluvia en Sevilla es una pura maravilla.  The rain in Seville is a pure wonder.

Clearly, the actual translation is irrelevant – it’s the rolling of the rrrrr, the depth of the lllll, and the softening of the v to a b that they are testing.  I must remember to keep the car window shut when I’m sitting at the traffic-lights by the Rosaleda stadium practicing at the top of my voice!

 

78 – Book Titles

Back in post number 69 “The Many Faces of Feria”, the language point was about the difficulty of translating book titles, especially those with double-meanings.http://tamaraessexspanishblog.wordpress.com/2013/08/22/69-the-many-faces-of-feria/

One which my profe hadn’t realised HAD a double-meaning was “The Importance of Being Earnest”.  The official Spanish translation gives up entirely on attempting to include the aspects of seriousness, of “earnestness” and simply goes for “La Importancia de Llamarse Ernesto”, or “The Importance of Being Called Ernest”.  Shame, but there was nothing they could do!

I think my favourite translation was “Gone With the Wind”, which frankly is made even more evocative in “Lo Que el Viento Se Llevó”, or “That Which the Wind has Carried Away” – love it!

T H White’s tale of King Arthur has the wonderful title “The Once and Future King”, which I had translated in a rather pedestrian manner as “El Rey Pasado y Futuro”.  Much more poetic is the correct translation “El Rey que Fue y Será” – “The King who Was and Who Will Be”.

Any other good titles?  Does anyone fancy having a stab at translating Milan Kundera’s “The Unbearable Lightness of Being”?

 

79 – It Makes me …

Just as in English, the verb “to make” can also be used when something MAKES you feel a certain way, or MAKES something happen.  For example “Me hace contenta” – it makes me happy.  “Le hizo rico” – it made him rich.  In this construction we usually use the third person singular as it is something external or abstract that is making me, her, or us feel a certain way.  “Nos hace sentir triste” – it makes us feel sad.

 

80 – Helping Your Spanish friends

If you’re helping a Spanish-speaker with their English in return for their help with your Spanish, you’re probably hitting the same pronunciation problems I am with Jose and Paco.  Top problem was their pronunciation of the letter Y at the start of yellow, young and youth.  Get them to say the Spanish word for ice – hielo – and although it doesn’t begin with a Y, the sound at the start is the same sound they need to begin yellow, young and youth with.  Get them to say “hielo hielo y- y- y- y- young youth yellow”, which should shift them from starting those words with a J sound.

 

81 – Lowering the Ts and the Ds
I’m often accused of lowering the tone!  But for once, it’s what I’m MEANT to do!   My Spanish friends are trying to get me to lower my tone when I pronounce a T or a D in Spanish.  And at the same time, I’m trying to get them to raise their tone when they pronounce the same letters in English.

Trying to get Spanish people to pronounce “He looks like he doesn’t want to be here” or “That cat sat on that mat” helped highlight for me, how MY Spanish pronunciation needs to change.

In English we pronounce the T in “The cat sat on the mat” as a very light, high note.  In Spanish it is much lower.  It’s as though the English T is played on a child’s glockenspiel – you know, the ones with the metal keys.  A high, light, ringing sound.  The Spanish T is played on a xylophone, a duller, wooden sound.  The tongue is up against the teeth, almost through them.

The English D is only a bit lower than our T sound, but in Spanish we need to take it right down low so we hear it in our bellies.  Maybe the English one is the top string on a cello, and the Spanish one is a double bass?

They make me repeat that long sentence with all the rolling rrrrrrs (about el perro de San Roque who doesn’t have a tail), but it’s the last bit I need to work on … “Se ha cortado”.  Cortado is a GREAT word to practise.  Even if you don’t like your coffee quite that dark!  It’s got that rolled rrr in the middle, followed by a nice dull T with the tongue up against the teeth, and then a really low D.  There is MUCH less difference between a T and a D in Spanish.

So I drove back from Torre del Mar one sunny November evening bellowing “Se ha corTaDo” … “Se ha corTaDo” … “Se ha corTaDo”.  Go on – try it!

 

82 – Two Little Phrases

I learned two lovely phrases recently.

“Estaba en una nube” – I was in a cloud, meaning I was in awe of somebody or something, or just floating in a general cloud of delight.

“Se me pasó el tiempo volando” – the time flew by.

Good phrases for me, as they pretty much define how things are going!

 

83 – Subjunctivitis!
So it comes when there is a second verb after a “parent” verb, such as “I hope that you want it” or “I suggest that we go now” or “I want that you eat that cheese” (we would say “I want you to eat that cheese”).

Espero que lo QUIERAS.  Sugiero que nos VAYAMOS.  Quiero que COMAS ese queso.

And the construction is simply to “change track” so the A verbs (hablar etc) use the E (Espero que yo HABLE bastante bien).  And the E and I verbs (comer, vivir etc) use the A (Yo dudo que ella VIVAS aqui.  Espero que nos VEAMOS pronto).

Phew!  Not so hard after all.  Lots of other uses of it and constructions of it, but it’s a good start.

 

84 – Getting it Wrong

I got it wrong last week.  I called the subjunctive a tense.  Both here and on Eye on Spain a reader corrected me.  The subjunctive is a mood, not a tense.  They were right, I was wrong.  And it’s hard to say you’re wrong.  No really, it actually IS hard to say you’re wrong – at least in Spanish.

It’s a strange verb – equivocar.  Me equivoco constantamente – I’m always making mistakes.  Se equivoca – he’s wrong, he’s mistaken, he got it wrong.  Me equivoqué – I was wrong, I got it wrong, I made a mistake (past tense).  Yo estaba equivocada – I was wrong.   Me he equivocada – I’ve made a mistake.   ¡No, estás equivocado! – no, you’re wrong (or you made a mistake).  In Spanish there’s no clear linguistic difference between being mistaken, and being outright wrong – those shades are done with the context and the tone of voice.

 

85 – Describing your region
My intercambio friend had to write a paragraph in English about the area in which he lives.  After I’d checked it for grammar (which was, as always, almost impeccable) he made me translate it into Spanish.  He’s well ahead of me on grammar so there were some difficult phrases.  But I loved it, as there were some really beautiful-sounding sections.  I especially liked En invierno llueve poco, y aunque llueva, después los cielos aclaran y el sol brilla denuevo.  In winter it doesn’t rain much, and even when it does rain, afterwards the skies clear and the sun shines again.  Nice bit of subjunctive in there … “… even when it rains …”.   Es casi tan agradable como el paraíso.  It’s almost as lovely as paradise.  Very true, Jose, very true.

 

86 – Missing You

Please excuse this.  I use the language point in the blog to pin down something I am struggling with.  I find that trying to explain it, sets it more firmly in my brain.  And this week I’m trying to get to grips with ECHAR.  Echar de menos, echar en falta – why two things that mean the same?  Ah well.

Voy a echarle de menos.  Voy a echarla en falta.  I’m going to miss him/her.  Voy a echar de menos estos días cuando vuelva al trabajo.  I’m going to miss these days when I return to work.  Te echo mucho de menos.  I miss you greatly.  Echo en falta tu compañia.  I miss your company.  Vas a echarle de menos.  You’re going to miss him.

Thank you.  That’ll help.  It’s a jolly odd construction though, isn’t it?

 

87 – Happy New Anus!
Felices fiestas y un prospero año nuevo!  Please don’t forget that tilde over the n (ie the ñ) in año. Nobody wants to be wished a prosperous new anus.

 

90 – More subjunctivitis
Back at my village’s language school www.axalingua.com we are struggling along with more of the subjunctive. No me gusta que ellos fumen. I don’t like it that they smoke. Me irrita que no me llamen. It irritates me that they don’t call me. Me molesta que aún no tengas. It annoys me that you still don’t have it. Me preocupa que sepan todo. It worries me that they know everything.

As long as I hang onto the fact that QUE triggers the subjunctive I’m alright. But I suspect it’s going to get a whole lot more complicated.


91- Porra not Porro
A food-related reminder of the importance of ending words with the right O or A.  Along with eight friends over from Cumbria I went on a Ruta de Tapas withwww.tapasinmalaga.com (a fabulous evening).  The first bar on the tour served the most delicious garlic potatoes, squid, and their own recipe for porra, which is a tomato-based garlicky dip with breadcrumbs, red pepper and olive oil, served cold.   Similar to salmorejowhich is more common in la Provincia de Córdoba and doesn’t have the peppers (folks will argue about those definitions but that’s what several chef friends told me, anyway!).  Anyway, one of the women absolutely loved it, and when the waiter came round to see if everything was alright she loudly asked for another large portion of porro.  The waiter’s face was a picture, as that small matter of an o at the end instead of an meant that she had asked for a large marijuana joint!

 

93 - ….and Other Mistakes
Last month I mentioned a friend who had accidentally ordered a joint of marijuana in a tapas bar by asking for “porro” instead of “porra”.  And many a woman has been embarrassed in the butcher’s by asking for “polla” instead of “pollo” when she honestly did just want chicken (one local woman who thought she had asked the butcher if he had a really BIG chicken for six people to eat hasn’t been back into that shop since …).

Wrongly imagining myself above such silly errors I reduced the painter and his son to giggles last week.  I had been away overnight when they had finished painting my doors and windows and putting up new mosquito screens upstairs and downstairs, so they returned the following week to be paid and to check everything was satisfactory.  “Si, ésta bien.  Solo faltan los tres mosqueteros.”   Pepe’s son dropped a biro and hid his giggles as he pretended to search for it.  Pepe smothered his grin and looked quizzically at me.  I had just said “Yes it’s all fine, we’re just missing the Three Musketeers!”

Pah.  Mosqueteros / Mosquiteras.  Near enough, you’d think!  Sigh.  These wretched noun endings!  Anyway, I clarified that I did not expect Athos, Porthos and Aramis to jump through the open windows, but that I would like the three downstairs net screens replaced to prevent ingress by musketeers AND mosquitos.  Las tres mosquiteras.  So Pepe will pop back next week with those.  I wonder if he’ll come dressed as D’Artagnan?

 

94 – Una Casa Poco Luminosa
We had to do an exam this week.  But it was for homework, so not exactly under exam conditions!  It wasn’t too bad, though I don’t know how it went as it’s been handed in for marking.  But there was one that really stumped me for a while.  It was about the use of“poco”.  And that difficult “poco” or “poca” thing.  Simple enough if poco is being used directly as an adjective – es un poco caro para mi – it’s a bit expensive for me.  Estuvo en la playa con poca ropa – she was on the beach with few clothes on.  But it’s when poco is being used as a determiner …. as in “No quiero una casa poco luminosa” – I don’t want a house less bright.  I don’t remember why, but I do remember learning that in that example we use poco, even though everything is screaming that it ought to be poca – to agree with casa and luminosa.

Well after much agonising I ticked POCO.  I’ll find out next week if it was right or wrong.  In the meantime, are there any English teachers able to confirm what part of speech that is, and any Spanish teachers able to explain why it should be poco?

 

95 - Conditionals
This week Jose and I have been working more on the conditional perfect, or second conditionals.  At the same time we are working on pronunciation and fluidity.  “Sherlock Holmes is the only person who would have known who stole the diamonds.”  Sherlock Holmes es la unica persona que habría sabido quien robó los diamantes.  “Would you (plural) have gone to the beach if it weren’t raining?”  ¿Habríais ido a la playa si no lloviera?  The “if” in the dependent clause triggers the imperfect subjunctive (sigh), with the other big clue being the use of “were” rather than “was”.

Normal (or “first”) conditionals just take the indicative – “I would have xxx but yyy happened”, or “He would have aaa except that bbb happened.”  So look out for “if” which changes it – eg If I had known, I wouldn’t have come.  Si hubiera sabido, no habría venido.  It doesn’t matter which bit comes first – No habría venido si hubiera sabido.

 

96 – Resolving “Una Casa Poco Luminosa”
Another mystery unravelled!  Juanmi had done some research, and had returned with the definitive answer as to why the phrase “…. una casa poco luminosa …” uses POCOrather than POCA.

The prize for working it out when I posed the question below blog post 94 – Priceless,goes to Steve Doerr.  He spotted first that the word POCO was functioning as an adverb qualifying the adjective “luminosa”, and that adverbs are invariable so do not change their endings to match the noun or the adjective.  In the same way, but less controversial and therefore a good example, I would say “Me gusta mucho ésta casa.”  In that phrase, both I and the house are female, but MUCHO remains invariable as it is an adverb qualifying the verb gustar.  So if we can accept that, we can also accept the POCO example.

 

98 – Yet More Subjunctivitis
Oh we are struggling.  Some of us to the point of refusing ever to use the subjunctive!  But we had a breakthrough this week.  We’re still trying to make hypotheses, and we struggle with the degrees of uncertainty that trigger the subjunctive rather than the indicative.  Juanmi has done his best, jumping from the left (definitely yes) to the right (definitely no) and then hovering in the middle, the uncertain area, where the subjunctive is used. The problem has been that our text book says that we use “Probablemente …” with the indicative, but “Es probable que ….” with the subjunctive.  Whereas to us the degree of uncertainty seems the same.  But this morning a lightbulb came on (or went off – our language is confusing too!).  The “que” of course triggers the subjunctive.  OK, but why does “Posiblemente …” use the indicative?  It generally implies a fair degree of doubt.  It’s all in the tone, says Juanmi. But then he looked sheepish and went to get another textbook.  The truth finally emerged.  Our textbook lists a hard and fast rule that after“Posiblemente …” you use the indicative.  But this OTHER textbook says you can use the indicative OR the subjunctive after “posiblemente”!!!  So it depends on our own perception of the degree of doubt, rather than being a hard and fast rule!  Phew.  Suddenly it all seemed a bit more manageable.  A bit more possible.  Por lo menos, posiblemente.  “Posiblemente, vaya a usar el subjuntivo ésta semana.”

 

99 – I have eaten, I have lived ...
Odd isn’t it, how sometimes something just doesn’t mean the same thing in a foreign language?  One of the things I am often asked as an extranjera is how long I have lived in Spain.  If I were to answer in English, I would of course say “I have lived here for almost two years.”  So, having learned my present perfect tense, I respond in Spanish “He vivido aqui casi dos años.”

But that’s wrong.  In Spanish that implies I have lived here before but I don’t any more.  For example it WOULD be correct to answer the question “Have you ever been to Australia?” with the reply “Si, he vivido allí tres años” – yes, I have lived there for three years.  But I don’t now.

Because the present perfect is, in fact, a past tense.  He comido la manzana – I have eaten the apple, and I have finished eating the apple – the apple is no more.  He aparcado el coche – I have parked the car.  I am not parking it now, it is parked and now I am here (in a bar) with you, telling you I have parked it.

OK that sort of makes sense.  Certainly “I have lived here” is the only time I would try to use that tense for something that is still happening, so it figures that it is wrong.  The truth is that it is the English that is wrong!

So the correct reply to “How long have you lived here?” needs to be –

“Llevo viviendo aqui casi dos años.”  or  “Vivo aquí desde hace casi dos años.”

 

101 – Past tenses

Tiempos pasados.  Past tenses.  Problems about when to use the imperfect and when to use the preterite. 

Turns out that to say “I was walking on the beach” you wouldn’t put walking into the imperfect – Yo andaba por la playa – because that would mean that you used to walk regularly on the beach but you don’t any more.  We have to say Estaba andando por la playa, putting the ESTAR part into the imperfect, not the ANDAR part.  OK, I can do that.

The imperfect is used when the action is interrupted and there’s more to say (for example, I was cooking the meal when the phone rang), or when something was being done regularly in the past (for example, as children we used to walk to school).

I did get into trouble with this.  I told a chef friend that I liked eating the food he cooked …. Me gustaba tu comida.  He looked a bit offended, and pointed out that this implied that I used to like his cooking but I don’t any more!  I should have said Me gustó tu comida, using the preterite (or simple past).

 

102 – Cómo están ….

It’s jolly subtle, this language we’re learning.  “Cómo están tus hijos?”  How are the kids?  But in a shop, “Cómo están las gambas?” is not an enquiry after the health of the prawns (which, let’s face it, is probably not great), but an enquiry after their quality.  Used in markets, for instance, for products that vary in quality such as fruit and vegetables.  And “A cómo están las gambas?” is an enquiry after their price, again used in markets where the price varies depending on the season or the day’s catch.

Buying a car from a neighbour?  Important difference between “Es nuevo” – it’s new, and “Está nuevo” – it’s like new (but it’s not).

 

103 – Looking Forward To It

I have been trying (and failing) to find a good equivalent to “I’m looking forward to it.”  When you’ve made an arrangement to see someone, and you want to emphasise that you’re glad, but without going over the top.  But it really doesn’t seem to exist in Spanish.  Ask Google Translate or Tradukka etc and they either get too literal and think you want to say that you WILL see something in the future tense, or they offer “Tengo ganas de verte”, which is best not to use for a friend or a colleague.  Some translators offer “He ansiado a verte” but that’s a bit OTT as well.  In the end several Spanish friends said I just had to settle for “Nos vemos” which seems to me to be a bit factual, and doesn’t indicate that I’m, well, looking forward to seeing someone.  Seems a little impersonal.  Any better suggestions?

 



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103 - The Kindness of Strangers
Thursday, May 15, 2014

The kindness of strangers.  That's the point about charity, isn't it?  That you are giving to strangers, people you will never know.    When you do something nice for a friend, that's not charity, that's friendship.  But to give to strangers, that's altogether different.  Like giving blood.  You give because you have something, and someone else needs it more than you do.  But you never see them, you never meet them.

Usually.

I was at my most politically active in the 1980s.  Demonstrations against Clause 27, anti-racism demos, marches against the Poll Tax, anti-nuclear rallies, that kind of thing.  I supported Greenpeace, Friends of the Earth, and Amnesty International.  A low-earner, working as an Assistant Stage Manager before the days of a minimum wage, I couldn't send much but Amnesty International always got a few pennies.  Perhaps the stark contrast between my luck being born in a healthy democratic western-European country, and the people fighting and dying for the right to education and a free vote in central-American dictatorships such as Brazil, Guatemala and El Salvador in the early 1980s struck some sort of chord.  You can't do much to help, but you can at least give financial support to the courageous staff and volunteers of Amnesty International.

Thirty years later and I still support Amnesty International.  Their centres of activity have changed, mostly, but the work still places a priority on human rights - the rights to education, a vote, family life, the absence of slavery and torture, and freedom of expression.  Fundamental to us, but still not available to everyone.

The other day outside a bar in Málaga with my friend G. we were having a bit of a moan.  Spanish bureaucracy was causing him problems.  His Canadian citizenship was making it hard for him to get his papers in order to get Spanish citizenship.  "Oh it's just a nightmare!" he exclaimed.  Then he checked himself.  "No, it's not so bad" he said.  "When I begin to get fed up with something, I remember that I am free and healthy, and it wasn't always that way."  I knew bits of his history already, I knew he'd been a political activist, much more so than me.  A native Spanish speaker I knew he had moved to Canada as a young adult and that it wasn't his birthplace.  I knew he'd been a political prisoner.

His ability to set aside daily obstacles is a remnant from those days.  He'd been arrested many times as a youngster for organising protests against El Salvador's right-wing dictators.  He was imprisoned regularly.  Later the military began to pick up everyone with views opposing the leadership, even if they weren't protesting.  Still in his teens, he was picked up off the streets one day and thrown into jail with a hundred other regular protestors.  Under that regime more than 75,000 were summarily executed, many simply disappeared.  In prison G. was visited regularly by Amnesty International volunteers who kept reports on the health and well-being of the political prisoners.  They smuggled in cigarettes and candy.  "That someone would bother to bring me candy ...." he said, his voice breaking as he remembered.  "They were the bravest people you could imagine."  The existence of those reports kept the prisoners safe.  The authorities were wary of pretending a prisoner had become ill and died, when the weekly reports said different.   Eventually when Amnesty International got G. released, they also put together a package of false documents and got him out of the country to the safety of Canada.  Canada, avoiding the Daily Mail-type hysteria about refugees, took care of political prisoners and gave them citizenship.  G. worked hard, paid his taxes, and feels an abiding love and gratitude to the country that didn't turn him away.  Finally settling in Spain he is back using his native tongue and feels at home, despite the frustrations of bureaucracy.  "I remember that back then each day I woke up felt like a bonus - I felt relief that they hadn't killed me in the night." 

In the early 1980s thousands of British people like me gave what little we could to Amnesty International, never knowing who might need their help.  In the early 1980s, unbeknownst to me, my friend G. was waking up a prisoner, jailed for standing up for justice and democracy, praying for the visit from Amnesty International, praying for the day they would get him out of El Salvador to a new life.  Here in Málaga, thirty years later, G. and I unravel our unexpected, bizarre, tenuous connection.   Sitting together under the Spanish sunshine we share a smile, and raise our glasses to freedom, democracy, Amnesty International, and the kindness of strangers.

http://www.amnesty.org/en/donate

 

©  Tamara Essex 2014

 

THIS WEEK'S LANGUAGE POINT:

I have been trying (and failing) to find a good equivalent to “I’m looking forward to it.”  When you’ve made an arrangement to see someone, and you want to emphasise that you’re glad, but without going over the top.  But it really doesn’t seem to exist in Spanish.  Ask Google Translate or Tradukka etc and they either get too literal and think you want to say that you WILL see something in the future tense, or they offer “Tengo ganas de verte”, which is best not to use for a friend or a colleague.  Some translators offer “He ansiado a verte” but that’s a bit OTT as well.  In the end several Spanish friends said I just had to settle for “Nos vemos” which seems to me to be a bit factual, and doesn’t indicate that I’m, well, looking forward to seeing someone.  Seems a little impersonal.  Any better suggestions?



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102 - An Overdose of Culture
Thursday, May 8, 2014

It was Culture Week in Colmenar.  I have no idea what that means.  It's an odd word, culture.  Can be off-putting to some.  Can mean completely different things to different people.

There was a photography competition.  There was a young people's walk.  Some children's flamenco dancing.  The "Paint-it-in-a-Day" competition (see last year's blog on art & life).  A day when neighbours sat at long tables in the swimming pool patio to share plates of embutidos and porra.  And the Romería came to town at the weekend with horses, carriages, dark-eyed gypsy girls.   Paella cooked by Miguel and served by Pedro, the mayor.  Colmenar is small enough to have that culture of working hard, working together, to create special village events.

Last year I wasn't quick enough at the end of the painting day to secure the one I really wanted.  This year I was on edge as the prize-winners were announced (the paintings that win cash prizes are then owned by the Ayuntamiento and the sponsors), and as soon as the last prize was called out I sprinted across the plaza to find the painter I'd watched during the day.  He should have won a prize - but I was glad he hadn't as the "Se Vende" sign was up and we began to haggle.  He wanted the same price as the prize-winners, so (feeling a little harsh) I pointed out that he hadn't won!  I also pointed out that another painting had six people round it bidding each other up.  "Look around" I told him.  "There's only me!"  Grumbling a little he accepted my offer.  I hadn't beaten him down TOO much but later, admiring my purchase, I felt a bit guilty.  Culturally-speaking, artists add enormous value to our lives and are usually under-valued and under-paid.  But a sale is a sale and I suspect he was more content with our deal than he was letting on!  My little piece of Colmenar culture will hang in the entrada.

And in the middle of this week of culture was what looked like a seriously cultural day.  A visit to Córdoba for the famous Patio Festival.  With a great group of friends, and guided by Rafa who was born in Córdoba, it was always going to be a very pleasant day.  As it turned out, it was so much more than that.  By going the weekend BEFORE the official start of the patio festival, we got Las Cruces de Mayo as well - the crosses of May.  And here's something odd.  The patio festival is not a religious festival at all.  Yet there is no alcohol involved, and no singing and dancing in the streets.  Las Cruces de Mayo is very definitely a religious festival.  And each beautiful floral cross is set up by one of the cofradías (brotherhoods) of the city, either beside their church or in a nearby plaza.  And the cofradía ALSO sets up a pop-up bar in the street nearby!   And, given that this is Spain, where there's a street bar there will pretty soon be music and spontaneous flamenco dancing.  It’s an innate part of the culture.

So our day in Córdoba began with a tour round the old town, joining a variety of long and short queues to admire the stunning private patios, opened just in May for the public to see and take inspiration from.  Extraordinarily beautiful, over-the-top, and a glimpse into another world.  A culture of families and flowers, patios and pride, community and competitiveness.

Then, as the patios closed at 2pm for their break, we moved onto a tour of the crosses.  And the street bars.  And the tapas.  Oh the tapas!  At our first stop in the magnificent Plaza with its views of the Mezquita and the Roman Bridge, its impressive floral cross, and its cofradía-run pop-up bar with hordes of happy, relaxed Spaniards, Rafa and Lourdes staggered back to our barrel with a mountain of pimientos padrón, berenjenas and various other platos.  A chica in her wedding dress went round exchanging gifts for kisses, and the music drowned out the songs floating over from the next plaza.

Then another cross.  And another bar.  A group of singers, and an invitation to a party.  Another cross.   Another bar.  More tapas.  A group of girls broke out into dance.  A chat with some local chicas - we exchanged fans.  Another cross.  Another bar.  A tiny plaza, crowded, and everybody singing.  Church-sponsored binge-drinking, except nobody seemed drunk - the culture of alcohol in Spain is more mellow, more about sharing the moment, sharing the fun.

For many of us immigrants, this is the culture of Spain.  For me, standing round a barrel in Córdoba sharing tapas and San Miguel with Lourdes, Maria-Jose, Emma, Rafa and Sandy summed it up pretty well.  Then yesterday in one of my regular bars, chatting with my neighbour Rafael and his fellow-farmers, we discussed what they think is the culture of Spain.  Their answers were very different.  None of the words we would put on the list were there.  They didn't mention flamenco, bulls, tapas, or sunshine.  They talked about the land, the work, the family, passing the land on to the next generation, looking after the older generation.  We talked about their perception of the culture of the United Kingdom.  They also used different words from those we would list.  We laughed, recognising that the definition of "culture" depends too on who you are, and where you are. 

As we chatted, we were splitting open the haba beans (broad beans) they had brought in that morning from the campo, and eating the tender raw beans.  Rafael explained that the shells too were good, fried in a tortilla.  I cracked another haba, popped it in my mouth and asked Antonio for another round of drinks.   Sometimes you can seek too hard to define something, without realising that you are right in the middle of doing it.

 

©  Tamara Essex 2014

 

THIS WEEK'S LANGUAGE POINT:

It’s jolly subtle, this language we’re learning.  “Cómo están tus hijos?”  How are the kids?  But in a shop, “Cómo están las gambas?” is not an enquiry after the health of the prawns (which, let’s face it, is probably not great), but an enquiry after their quality.  Used in markets, for instance, for products that vary in quality such as fruit and vegetables.  And “A cómo están las gambas?” is an enquiry after their price, again used in markets where the price varies depending on the season or the day’s catch.

Buying a car from a neighbour?  Important difference between “Es nuevo” – it’s new, and “Está nuevo” – it’s like new (but it’s not).



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101 - The Importance of Not Being Ernest
Friday, May 2, 2014

Who are we?  Those who are seeking the sun?  We who have packed up our belongings in one country, and unpacked them in another?  Los que buscan el sol.

Some came with hopes of work, or to bring up children in a more outdoor environment.  Some came already retired, to enjoy their later life on a terrace in the warm.  Some of us say to ourselves that we find ourselves in Spain because of the culture, the people, the food and the language, as well as the climate. 

But let's be honest - we came because of the sun.  We came so that we could put endless photos on Facebook of the swimming pool, the mountain views, the sandy feet resting on the rails of a chiringuito, the dining table on the terrace with the artfully-placed wine glasses.  We came so that the cries of "Oh you're so lucky!" from a damp and rainy Britain would bounce from our iPads and reassure us we have made the right life choice.

The experiences gained since making the move have been manifold.  In your own country, it takes about 30 years to piece together how to speak, how to open a bank account, how to see a doctor or a dentist, how to get a National Insurance number, how to pay tax, how to get a passport, how to buy a house, how to pay water and electricity bills, how to negotiate a loan, how to tax a car, and how to vote in elections.  When you change countries, you learn how to do ALL those things in about six months, in a different language, administering the life of a new immigrant, plus integrating into a new culture.   

So let's give ourselves a pat on the back. We're not unique, what we have done isn't that special, and there are a heck of a lot of us (more people leave Britain every year to live elsewhere, than move TO Britain).  But having said that, at least we did it.  Huge numbers think about it, many talk about it, some plan it, and fewer do it.  But we have.

Last month I had the enormous pleasure of meeting one of my favourite authors.  Andy Lowe made the jump in his early 20s, lived in Spain for 18 years and married a Spanish woman.  Although currently in England for work, he continues to visit regularly, and the majority of his published books are set in Spain.  His greatest character, Ernest Postlethwaite, along with his long-suffering wife Pamela, is the archetypal Englishman in Spain.  Pompous, naive, and totally convinced that he is the only expat ever to be doing it "properly", he is supremely lacking in self-awareness.  These finely-observed parody diaries lead us through "Integration", "Invasion" and "Consolidation" ..... and the final part of Ernest’s story will be written later this year. 

I read these "diaries" and laughed out loud.  I recognised Ernest - I had met him here a dozen times.  Or parts of him.  He seemed to me to be made up of all the elements of ex-pat-shire that I observe.  And then a sinking feeling hit me.  I recall that in the early 1980s I was a stage manager at the Theatre Royal in Windsor, where a crowd-pleasing play by Alan Ayckbourn was staged twice a year to fill the coffers.  Alan Ayckbourn used to gently send up the comfortable middle-classes by creating characters we could all laugh at.  In the interval I used to enjoy hearing audiences saying "Oh darling I know someone JUST like that!", never recognising themselves in the characters.  So is there a bit of Ernest in all of us?   Los que buscan el sol?   Inevitably.  There must be.  For the half million or so British living in Spain, there are about half a million different ways of doing it.  There is no right way, no one way.  We are all treading our own paths.  I recognise that at times I am perhaps a bit earnest, but ironically that is in an attempt to avoid being too Ernest!  He's the character we don't want to be, despite his efforts to integrate and learn the language.  Because Ernest looks down on everyone, the local Spanish and the immigrants alike, musing from up there on his pedestal.

So who are we, those who seek the sun?  Los que buscan el sol?  We are optimists - that's pretty essential.  We are fortunate, as we had the choice to do it.  Whatever our motivations, we are all, every single one of us, doers.  Not thinkers or dreamers, but people who actually did it.  And we became learners - in and out of the town hall more often than we imagined, sorting all those little problems, beating ourselves up for getting it wrong, without giving ourselves the credit for the steepness of that learning curve.  Squeezing a lifetime of learning into six months.   

Thus, here we are, this motley bunch of immigrants.  We have sought the sun, we have chosen Spain, this is where we have unpacked our boxes.  Hats hung, this is where we call home. 

Outside, the sun is shining.  Ernest would be studying his subjunctives and declaring them unnecessary.  The final book will presumably tell of his end.  The diaries are, after all, posthumous.  The art of great writing is to create a character whose end you don't want to see.  I don't want Ernest's diaries to finish - he's accompanied me on my Spanish adventure and I'll miss the contrary old sod.  Whether his wife Pamela feels the same will emerge in book four, I suppose.  I hope you'll join me, and Ernest, on his journey.

Look on Amazon or other sellers for Spanish Journals Posthumous Diaries  http://www.amazon.co.uk/Spanish-Journals-Posthumous-Diary-Integration-ebook/dp/B00AGXT6JW and prepare to be hooked.  Kindle prices vary but the books are usually between one and two pounds or euros.

 

©  Tamara Essex 2014

(Note – many thanks for all the lovely messages after last week’s post, they were very much appreciated)

 

THIS WEEK'S LANGUAGE POINT:

Tiempos pasados.  Past tenses.  Problems about when to use the imperfect and when to use the preterite. 

Turns out that to say “I was walking on the beach” you wouldn’t put walking into the imperfect – Yo andaba por la playa – because that would mean that you used to walk regularly on the beach but you don’t any more.  We have to say Estaba andando por la playa, putting the ESTAR part into the imperfect, not the ANDAR part.  OK, I can do that.

The imperfect is used when the action is interrupted and there’s more to say (for example, I was cooking the meal when the phone rang), or when something was being done regularly in the past (for example, as children we used to walk to school).

I did get into trouble with this.  I told a chef friend that I liked eating the food he cooked …. Me gustaba tu comida.  He looked a bit offended, and pointed out that this implied that I used to like his cooking but I don’t any more!  I should have said Me gustó tu comida, using the preterite (or simple past).

Poco a poco ….

 

 



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