Notes From an Amateur Writer #36
FEELING LIKE AN ALIEN
This Blog series is an exercise in creative writing. Sometimes expressed in short story forms, sometimes as a journal, or just my thoughts written down. This is my attempt to help coalesce my writing ideas and knowledge into usable form. It is a nursery of sorts for the stories that are on their way, or yet to be written.
Feeling Like an Alien
It's the simple things in life that can teach us so much. Like coffee. It's not complex, although I have had some over complicated experiences with it in the past. Like ordering a black coffee, and being asked if I wanted milk with it. I came to the realisation in Melbourne that it is not usual to have coffee without milk. Alien almost. And I feel like an alien sometimes, so perhaps that is why black coffee is my drink of choice.
And here in Spain black coffee is legit. It is accepted. It even has a name. Americano. You ask for an Americano and you get a black coffee. No strange looks. No superfluous jugs of milk. No confused waiters. Just a black coffee. I'm still trying to work out why it's called an Americano. I have my theories, but I don't know for certain just yet.
And, on the whole, coffee here tastes like coffee should. The Spanish know how to make a good coffee. Perhaps they learned from the Italians, given their proximity. Perhaps it is just innate. Now having said that, you can still get an awful coffee here. But it will be from the non-Spanish run cafes. If it's run by the English don't even bother. I'm not sure why that is, but it seems to be across the board.
Mind you, the English men also don't seem to mind walking down the street, and even entering cafes, sans shirt. No shame in parading their big sweaty bellies to the world. Something I have yet to see one Spanish man do. A bit of class and dignity goes a long way.
Learning to Speak
It has been interesting watching all this, as an immigrant myself now. I'm fully aware that this is not my country, and I am a guest here. I appreciate the opportunity. I speak (rudimentary) Spanish when I can. Not much more than to say hello, and goodbye, and a couple of other things. It's interesting getting all tongue tied, saying hola (hello) when I am leaving (having meant to say goodbye), and feeling like a kid again learning to speak. Or standing there trying to remember what the word even is, and having nothing come out your mouth. Odd, but amusing.
But this is Spain, and I am here to enjoy and experience Spain. So I am learning the language. Slowly, but getting there. Making Spanish friends – and this is generally easy to do, as they are friendly. There are also other nationalities around, and I am making friends in these groups also. There are many Northern Europeans here, not just English. But the other nationalities tend to stick in their groups, and avoid the Spanish, and avoid learning or speaking the language. I have no interest in this approach. It would be a missed opportunity, in my eyes, if I did this.
Like they say (or perhaps should say) - When in Spain, do as the Spanish.
Hasta luego, amigos.
All images used with permission, and sourced from Unsplash.com.
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Short Fiction:
Bang Bang You're Dead
I Have No Name and I Must Scream
The Last Book Store
The Judge
The Man In The Mirror
The End of the World [Part 1] [Part 2]
The Locked Room
The Gods of Love and War [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
Blasphemous
Jonathan and the Dance of the Leaves
Songlines - Short stories inspired by songs.
When the Levee Breaks
Crossroads
Heart's a Mess
It's So Easy