Casa Rosales

Casa Rosales

Monday 22 October 2012

The Wandering Guiri

We have gone in a twinkle of the eye from summer t-shirts and open-toed sandals to umbrellas and boots here in Alcala la Real. I don't really know how it happened. I took Romy to school the other day and noticed I was the only one with visible toes. Everyone else had sensible, water-proof and flesh-covering footwear. I was showing more than toes - I was showing my 'guiri' status. 'Guiri' is what the Spanish call foreigners, specifically Anglo-Saxon foreigners. Where you are in Spain depends on the level of insult this indicates. Here, I never hear anyone say it out loud, but I can hear them thinking it and I always know when. It would usually be silently aimed at people who are not local; who wear the 'wrong' clothes; who definitely wear the wrong shoes and who walk the streets in a manner that is different from those who were born here. I can't explain it further but I too know a 'guiri' when I see one. Now I've lived here a while, I don't usually stand out too much - it's something to do with the pace of the walk, the sense of purpose and confidence and permanence, I think. Not being a wanderer in the wrong shoes.

Guiris - breaking the rules of fashion since time immemorial 

Anyhow, having been caught out, on returning home, I dug out my boots from last year. Yeah, I LOVE boots!! I was so happy to get back into them that I took Darwin for a long walk around the back streets of the town. We stuck to the streets as it had been raining for a couple of days and the ground in the olive groves or my usual walk through the pine forest, when wet, turns to a sucking, sticking, gooey, gloopy kind of mud. The kind that, if it were a little deeper, would suck those lovely boots right off your legs.

With an umbrella and boots and in a light drizzle (not looking at all like a 'guiri') we went up and down the narrow and cobbled streets. As we climbed the long steps up towards La Mota, we were rewarded by the most fantastic sight and I could have kicked myself for not bringing my camera. The sun, almost sinking behind the mountains to the west, turned parts of the town to a rich, orange, red glow - an absolutely stunning sight. And to cap it all, a rainbow stretched from east to west actually touching the road that leads out of the town towards Santa Ana on the east and arching over the houses before coming down on the area called 'El Cauchil' on the west. Even Darwin stopped and put his paws up on the wall in front of us so he could see it better. We stood just looking at this amazing sight until the sun eventually faded and left me blinking, the colours still fixed in my mind but the view returned to more sober hues. I wonder who else saw this and whether they too were utterly amazed...and did they manage to get a photograph? It was a glorious moment that I so wish I could have shared more widely.

I sort of ruined the joy of the walk by deciding to return home through the pine forest...I knew it might be a bit muddy but the top part seemed not too bad and it was the quickest route back and the sun had set and it was getting dark....OK, it was a bad idea and I should have known better but I'm not good at turning round - I prefer to follow the shortest route even if this ends up taking longer. I may never learn.

I got down three of the zigs (or zags) that the path takes but then the mud came into its own and I found my boots were getting heavier and heavier as I gathered the stuff on the soles and increasingly up the sides of them. I decided the only way down was to cut through the trees as many had laid down a safety blanket of pine needles and leaves which was preferable to the mud. It took me an age to inch my way down and, of course, Darwin had scampered ahead. And as I came out of the trees, I was only NEARLY at the bottom. About five metres stretched between me and the entrance. Darwin had gone out and was sniffing around a dog on a lead, whose owner was smiling in a bemused but sympathetic way at my plight but also expressing her concern that her dog was unwell and mustn't be agitated and Darwin wouldn't come when I called. Oh dear, was I going to slip on my backside after all? The mud was bad enough stuck to my boots, but it would be most unpleasant plastered to my bottom.

I did managed to get down, onto the road, grab Darwin and make my excuses and apologies without falling over. The woman gave me a look, not unfriendly, not unpleasant, but I heard her thinking just one word to herself, 'Guiri'. There could be no other explanation for a person walking through the pine forest after it had been raining.

I might as well have had my sandals on - and joined the ranks of the wanderers in the wrong shoes! 



23 comments:

  1. Where I lived it was not 'rosbif'...the word the newspapers use for Brits....but 'godon' from the supposed curse typical of the English soldiery in the Hundred Years' War...God damn!

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  2. There is a history to the word, but it was pretty obscure, so I left it. Feeling so much part of this town, I don't like those odd occasions when my roots show! Godon,rosbif!!
    Axxx

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  3. I can just see you in the pine forest Annie, what do you think Darwin thought of it all ? I, too am sorry you didn't have your camera with you.....can you take photos on your phone.... I hope you had that with you. Anyway,I think you'd fit in pretty well anywhere....one of the most adaptable, empathetic and understanding people I have ever known.lots of love, Janice xxx

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    1. I don't think I would have minded if you had seen me, Janice - it was definitely good for a laugh. I didn't have my phone and it doesn't take photos anyway - though I did curse myself as I was sure I'd have to phone FR to save me!
      What lovely words - thank you so very much. Axxx

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  4. Sorry about the ignoble end to your walk, but it did make me laugh. I've been there so many times - and I usually end on my bottom so congrats for staying upright. I had to show the picture to my husband. He has an almost allergic reaction to men in sandals and socks.

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    1. Thanks Annie - good job I don't mind being laughed at really. I am pleased with myself for not falling but I think the woman with the sickly dog was cursing me for taking my time over the descent.
      Hey - the picture shows a man devoid of varicose veins...they must always be factored in!
      Axxx

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  5. In our bit of Normandy, because of their prevalence, the locals usually lump together all strangers as 'les anglais'. I know I stand out because of my height, as most local women of my age are so much smaller, but also because I'm not swathed in cardigans and jackets on all but the warmest of days. :-)

    I loved your description of your walk and could easily see your rainbow in my mind's eye. Well done for staying upright in conditions which would definitely have had me flat on my back.

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    1. I'm not tall, but I know that here, the tall women are usually not locals. And absolutely - cardigans and scarves are 'de riguer' here once the temperature drops below 25 degrees.
      I do really wish I could have captured that rainbow but so glad you could see it in your mind's eye, Perpetua.
      Axxx

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    2. I'm not extra tall, Annie - about 5'7" and shrinking - but that still puts me head and shoulders above almost all women of the same generation there.

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  6. Although your writing, specially the final part, is so amused and it is written in so much detail and funny that I can't finish to read it without a big smile on my face, I'd also like to tell you that the word "guiri" can have all connotations that you want except one: insult. I don't use to say the word guiri, but I do admit that I share those feelings and thoughts which we share when see those people who dress so outlandishly. I always asked myself why they do that. I'm sure that in their countries, they dress in other way. Anyway, they are very funny


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    1. Thank you for your comment, Ana - I'm so glad I know you and your big smile!! In parts of the country, 'guiri' is very much an insult but not here - I don't think we would have chosen to live here if it was.
      It was quite funny incident and I will try hard to remember not to walk where it is muddy.
      Axxx

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  7. Well done for staying upright Annie. Nothing worse than making a prat of yourself by falling in mud.

    I think there are similar words for us foreigners wherever we live. The word yabanci means foreigner or stranger here, but I have experienced it being muttered under breath in a not so complimentary way if I've done something a bit silly or typically un-Turkish.

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    1. Thanks, Ayak! As my friend Ana, above says, 'guiri' is not an insult here but really, there is no other word to describe some of the people who are clearly not from 'here' but are here - some are very, very bizarre indeed!
      I'd love to imagine some of your neighbours transported to Saffron Walden, say! I wonder what word would be used to describe them?
      Axxx

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  8. An endearing character trait in a guiri must be the ability not to take oneself too seriously. You definitely score there!.

    Interesting and entertaining post. I'd love to have seen the rainbow.

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    1. Thank you Gaynor - please imagine me dropping a demure curtsey...and then falling over in the mud!

      I too would have loved you to have seen the rainbow...I resolve to take my camera with me next time I go out!
      Axxx

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    1. I shall call you TIA la Real! Thank you - glad you enjoyed it but so glad you weren't there to see it! Axxx

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  10. This post reminds me of my Mum, from the South of England (though to be honest her dark good looks made people assume her origins were Mediterranean) - whenever she visited us in Yorkshire she rolled her eyes in scorn at the way Northerners stripped off to T shirts & shorts at the first glimmer of watery sunshine!

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    1. You have inherited your mother's good looks, Nilly! I don't know - Southerners! I have never been a naturist, but I understand that it removes all social barriers too - we're all the same underneath (more or less), aren't we!
      Axxx

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  11. I'd have been on my bum, I always fall over in mud! So kudos to you for staying upright.

    I am actually quite glad you didn't have your camera. The magic was in the seeing, the fact that what happened was fleeting, that you had no one to share it with but Darwin, that sense of blessing that comes with knowing you have witnessed something uniquely special. Your heart will remember what your eyes cannot not x

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    1. Wise words, Annie - you are quite right. Photographs can be wonderful but that rainbow, in my mind's eye, is now forever magical.
      Axxx

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  12. Annie I did exactly the same!! However, I had never been down there before and Samantha said it was a short cut - I didn't thing about the fact that it had been raining and would be muddy!!!

    Well as we went down I got taller and taller as the mud on the bottom of my boots got thicker and thicker. Luckily my boots were quite snug but Samantha's weren't and hers started coming off. Well then my journey down got more difficult because I was laughing so much I had to keep stopping. I must have taken me 15 minutes or more to go what was a very short distance - much quicker to have gone the long way.

    There are some houses that look onto this pathway and I was imaging them watching us thinking - foreigners!!! but now I know they were thinking 'guiris' - lol

    Mandy

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    1. Love the idea of getting taller and taller - it's that sort of mud! Jane, in my conversation class, is from Leeds and she and I have exactly the right word for this stuff - it's claggy mud. No one else knew what we were talking about, but that's the word. Claggy. Sounds right too, don't you think!
      Axxx

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