New blog post, 3 March 2025, Reijer Staats
The first Spanish chat
At the desk in our new ático Lolapaluza: the sliding door to the roof terrace is open, Sade's Paradise plays from Johan's phone, and a spring breeze brings in the scent of wood stain. I call to Johan, who is busy with a brush, sitting and lying on the pergola – high up – "Un café más?"
My gaze drifts over the watercolours of Salobreña and Almuñécar on the wall, and across the bookshelves full of memories: art photography books from the Netherlands, curios from Africa, and our own sacred Mary in a wine crate from Pinos del Valle. In 2015 we succeeded in finding our first holiday home. Over five years ago we emigrated, stepping into an unknown future – with sad times and wonder, and with exciting projects, new encounters, and entertaining Spanish chats. I wrote it all down in detail on my Andalusia blog. The one-liners of the vecinos Boefje, the Professor, and Malle Pietje are etched in my memory.
It's time for a new story!
The first spark for a new Spanish chat came to me on the beach during bootcamp. Txetxu – our trainer, whom I stubbornly call José, but whom the other athletes always address as Txetxu – has made me fluent in the Spanish names for body parts. Now the challenge remains to switch on more often and join the Andalusian group conversations.
Perspiring after the last squat of the set, I hear sighs and groans from across at the shoulder press, followed by the shout of a raw female voice: "No decimos pollo!"
I get the meaning explained. Literally "We don't say chicken," but in this case: "We're not complaining." The Friday vibes are in the air, so I take a cheeky pun shot: "Pollo (chicken) o polla (cock)?"
Txetxu then points to two elderly señoras sitting on the stone ledge along the promenade – one leaning on her walker, the other on a shiny cane. From Txetxu's words I understand such a ledge is called a poyo – coincidentally pronounced the same as pollo, but not derived from it, even though these old ladies chatter like hens.
Back at the desk in Lolapaluza, I realise how much I enjoy putting small Spanish chats on paper, and hey: "No damos una paliza!" At bootcamp I learned that means you shouldn't be too hard on yourself, though literally it translates as "We don't give a beating." No long epistles anymore then! From now on, just a weekly short story in the new blog Spanish chats, mixing current updates and flashbacks, building towards a future collection of stories from sunny Andalusia.
The first Spanish chats are now online. Enjoy the read!