New blog post, 3 MAR 2025, Reijer Staats
A first Spanish chit-chat
At the writing nook of our new ático Lolapaluza: the sliding door to the rooftop terrace is open, Paradise by Sade plays from Johan's phone, and a spring breeze carries the scent of wood stain inside. I call out to Johan, who is up high on the pergola, paintbrush in hand: "Un café más?"
My gaze drifts past the watercolours of Salobreña and Almuñécar on the wall and over bookshelves filled with memories: art photography books from the Netherlands, curiosities from Africa, and our own cherished Maria in a wooden wine crate from Pinos del Valle. In 2015, we found our first holiday home there. Over five years ago, we emigrated, stepping into an unknown future—through times of sorrow and wonder, beautiful projects, new encounters, and amusing Spanish chit-chat. I've documented it all extensively in my Andalusia blog. The one-liners of los vecinos—Chappy, the Professor, and Salvador, our sociable neighbour and scrap metal collector—are etched into my memory.
It's time for a new story!
The first spark came at the beach during boot camp. Txetxu—our trainer, whom I stubbornly call José, although my workout mates consistently address him as Txetxu—has already taught me the Spanish names for body parts. My next challenge is to fully tune in and join Andalusian group conversations.
I break into a sweat after the last squat of the round and hear a sigh and groan from across at the shoulder press, followed by a raspy female voice shouting: "No decimos pollo!"
The meaning is explained to me. Literally, it means "We don't say chicken," but here: "You won't hear us complain." The Friday mood is in the air, and my easy joke follows: "Pollo (chicken) or polla (cock)?"
Txetxu then points to two elderly señoras chatting while resting on a low stone ledge along the beach promenade—one leaning on her walker, the other on a shiny cane. From his explanation, I understand that such a ledge is called a poyo—coincidentally pronounced exactly like pollo, but unrelated, even though these ladies are clucking away like chickens.
Back at the writing nook in Lolapaluza, I realise how much I enjoy putting Spanish chit-chat on paper, and hey: no damos una paliza! At boot camp, I learned these words mean you shouldn't make things too hard for yourself, although the literal translation is "We don't give a beating."
So, no more long letters, but from now on, a short story every week in a new blog, Spanish chit-chat, where recent posts and flashbacks alternate, building a future collection of stories from sunny Andalusia.
The first Spanish chit-chat posts are now online. Enjoy reading!