«Swear like a trooper; drink your red wine cold… and always finish your dinner«, o lo que es lo mismo: “Maldiga como un soldado, beba el vino tinto frío… siempre termine su cena”
‘Malhablados, impuntuales, maleducados o tacaños‘ son algunas de las perlas que Chris Haslam, afamado periodista inglés del rotativo ‘The Times’, nos dedicó a todos los españoles en su columna en la sección de ‘Viajes’ del pasado 21 de enero de 2018.
A pesar del claro tono satírico, característica principal del humor inglés, esta publicación ha puesto en pie de guerra a gran parte de la población española, que mediante tweets o cartas al periódico inglés, han mostrado su desacuerdo. ¿Es así como realmente nos ven en UK? ¿Tú qué opinas?
Os dejamos el artículo entero en v.o.:
How To Be Spanish (Article from ‘The Times’)
Learning the language is only the first step to becoming Spanish. Getting a tan and knowing your tapas from your pintxos are steps two and three, but there’s still a long way to go before you can pass yourself off as anything other than a guiri. There are some shortcuts, though.
First, forget Anglo-Saxon notions of politeness, discretion and decorum. Being Spanish involves walking into a bar, kissing and hugging complete strangers, shouting “oiga” at the waiter and chucking anything you can’t eat or drink on the floor. Except glasses. That’s too much. But you can drop the please and thank yous. They’re so unnecessary.
If you’re a lady, carry a fan. Over here, it’s a tool, not a souvenir, and regardless of gender, do try to develop the uncanny Spanish skill of knowing instinctively where the coolness is. Not hipster coolness. The ambient one.
You also need to unlock that potty mouth. Spoken — or, rather, shouted — Spanish is shot through with obscenities of astonishing inventiveness and anatomical awareness, and it doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. In Salamanca, I heard a teacher on a school trip tell his pupils to “**** off for lunch”, and that “any ****er” who wasn’t back at 3.30 sharp would be “****ing left behind for social services”. The kids seemed cool with that, even though being Spanish requires utter disdain for punctuality. Arriving anywhere 30 minutes late is actually considered quite early and quite rude.
You need to learn food etiquette, too. Start with a breakfast of tostada, sobrasadaand a cortado, and don’t ask for butter. This is olive-oil country. Stop whatever you’re doing at 11am and nip out for a beer and a sandwich. That should keep you going until lunchtime, at 2pm. You’ll be going for a three-course menu del dia, and it will take between two and three hours. Then have a kip.
Next, tapas. You can always spot the Brits. They’re the ones who walk into a crowded tapas bar and can’t believe there’s a table free. That’s because the Spanish sneer at tables. Tapas are eaten at the bar, while yelling at the waiter and throwing stuff on the floor. Except the glasses. Remember that.
Then go home and watch telly. Got Talent España and Sabado Deluxe — a sort of Jeremy Kyle for celebrities — are good choices. They’re probably on the TV in the bar, but with all that shouting, you won’t be able to hear a thing.
Ten o’clock is dinnertime. Start with beer or ice-cold red wine, because cocktails are for after dinner, and make sure you eat everything you’ve ordered. Countries that have suffered famine are funny about that. Don’t go overboard on tips (it’s not done here), be ambivalent about bulls and, finally, always take your phone to the toilet. This is a) so you can check for messages from your secret lover, and b) because every motion-activated toilet light on the Iberian Peninsula is programmed to go out after four seconds.
Fuente / Source: The Times
