streetmemes

Have you heard of these? I noticed them 4 years ago in East Berlin, and when I went back at Christmas, they were everywhere (and quite scary)! Now I´ve seen a few (tame ones) in Madrid.
I think it´s to do with reclaiming the streets, the city for the ordinary people; it´s all reproduced artwork: computer printouts, photocopies, stencils and some of it´s very very ANGRY!!!!...I LOVE IT!!!
Here are my favourites from Berlin:

Did anyone check it was OK to take his photo?

This is part of a series - who is Linda?

Adult cartoons? Weird!











Very lonely - I think this is my favourite...





Or this?













You can put them anywhere, and they come in pairs too!

Creepy, huh?

This is the biggest I´ve ever seen.

And this, the most crowded! The entire thing was at least 3m long and 1m high.

Which is your favourite, and why?

See link for more...

A DAY WITHOUT IMMIGRANTS IN MADRID

Imagine if Spain´s biggest worry, the immigrants, disappeared for a day..
So… no-one to pick the fruit and veg in the hot Andalucian sun for 1 centimo an hour;
No-one to break their backs delivering fruit and veg to the markets;
No-one to deliver fruit and veg to the bars and restaurants;
No-one to cook and wait on tables of demanding customers in the bars and restaurants;
SO, NO PRE-SIESTA LUNCH THEN!

No-one to take your spoilt kids to school;
No-one to look after incontinent granny during the day;
No-one to look after incontinent granny during the night;
No-one to clean your absolutely pristine house;
No-one to iron clothes for you that they will never afford ;
AND THESE ARE ORDINARY MIDDLE-CLASS HOUSEHOLDS!

No-one to have babies, and keep the working population stable;
No-one to buy houses and flats and keep the housing market buoyant/inflated;
No-one to buy cars and keep the market growing;
No-one to use public transport and keep it viable;
MADRID WOULD COLLAPSE! (and any other city you care to mention...)
So... BE NICE TO FOREIGNERS!!!!!!

DISCOVERING POLITICS

(ex-president Aznar publicising his book, with Atocha unfortunately in the background)
In England, I never read a newspaper or watched the news. If it didn´t happen on my doorstep, I didn´t want to know.
Surprising, ´cos I´d worked in state education nearly all my working life.
I had friends who were very knowledgeable about all aspects of every newsy situation, and had a million facts at their fingertips. So I kept my mouth shut (always a bit of an effort) and listened.
When I moved to Spain, I was desperate to understand everything going on around me - felt like I´d gone deaf all of a sudden - people were talking but I couldn´t understand anything. So I learnt Spanish very fast.
I also read "Stupid White Men" like everyone else, and discovered that I could slip in little quotes from it when the occasion demanded - always prefaced with "I heard that..." (so that, if I were wrong, I wouldn´t look too stupid)
But I discovered that some friends were SO knowledgeable, they even knew the names of obscure religious leaders who might have contributed to funds that had contributed to a fundamentalist cause that...who? Bush?....(And one of these friends had the emotional IQ of a gnat)
News coverage in Spain is very good - very international and quite shocking in the gore they show (which I think is good for news-shy people like me). Bombs went off on about as regular a basis as they did in London in the 80s.
Then, on the 11th March 2003, two bombs went off 100 metres from my flat in Atocha - they shook the window panes and rattled the cats. The sound of ambulances and helicopters almost drowned out the sound of the telly that I was glued to the rest of the day.

I had to pass through the station everyday to get to work - all you could smell were candles, and see were messages and flowers and people with wet eyes...OK, I admit it, the smoke got in MY eyes too...
The general elections flipped the whole country over like a fluffy tortilla: a normally complacent race, who had become apathetic in their politics, given to believe that nothing could be done about the Iraq war, Afghanistan, or Bush, suddenly discovered that their vote counted - big time.
I was with some friends the night of the elections. We´d gone to the PP (govt) headquarters to watch the socialists get whipped again, and realisation dawned (accompanied by wide grins) that the people in our bar were looking progressively sicker.
I strolled into the middle of a small crowd of flag-waving Govt supporters and, really, just for the hell of it, started to chant "Asesino, tú y tu partido!" (Sorry, doesn´t have the same ring in English.)

Well, I´d never been bashed over the head with a flag by a member of the upper-middle classes, and certainly never been socked in the jaw by a middle-aged gentleman, so I was slightly taken aback!
Naturally, I started chanting (shouting by this point) even louder...till I was hauled away by a police officer. One photographer, running down the road, alongside us, kept repeating "Wasn´t she great?"
I kept shouting "I want to talk to a British camera crew....." The place was flooded with media from all over Europe.
The police demanded to see my identity card, took down all my details and said "Why did you do it? They could´ve killed you!"
So I replied "Freedom of speech dead and buried in this country is it? - I was merely expressing my opinion out loud...very loud..."
He asked me where I lived (to check that the identity card was really mine), and I said "Atocha", at which point his expression took on that hang-dog look, that had become common in recent days.
He booted me off the street and told me not to come back. So me and my friend took refuge in a couple of ciders in a nearby Irish pub, and nursed my jaw.
For two months, people crept about their business in my barrio; I started biting my nails again (so sorry for everyone); business was bad at my local pet shop.
So, being a bit of a fan of the BBC News website, I browsed (in this order)...Spanish elections...ETA...Spanish history... the Iraq war...9-11...Bush...ETA...the IRA...Palestine... And by the end, I had folders and folders on my hard drive of STUFF. And then I browsed...the New York Times... Antiwar.com...the Guardian...Michael Moore´s website...
As Autumn closed in, and the terraces closed, I changed the bar I go to for morning coffee. Not spectacular in itself maybe, but the bar had a newspaper, El País, delivered every morning, and I did some more browsing...
I became obsessed, and now BUY the paper, and even CUT OUT interesting articles! Yes, ring the loony bin now...
My conversations now start "I have a theory, see what you think..."
Go on, ask me; ask me anything...

P.S. do you like my photos?

me...

carnival, 2005
champagne tea at the Dorchester, 2002 Christmas, 1999, Puerta del Sol

the day I left England, 1999

yuppie, 1988

1969

BERLIN

Last Christmas, I spent a week in East Berlin with my friend Julia. It was freezing, and started snowing while I was drawing - this is a square near her house.

And here is her landing - Berlin flats have courtyards too!

On New Year´s Eve, Julia had to work in her bar, so I hung out there, people-watching, and practising my crap German on the locals!
Do you know what streetmemes are? I discovered them in Berlin (pics soon!) and they´re starting to appear in Madrid now...

AM I AN IMMIGRANT?

Inmigrantes: a Spanish word meaning "nasty, criminal foreigners of a different colour, who come over in boats to sponge off our Social Security System."
Immigrants: an English word meaning "foreigners living here."

I, unfortunately, am easily confused between the two definitions - English, but look South American. Typical first encounters with Spanish people…

"Papers, papers…" (= if you have sex with me, I´ll get you legal papers here)
"You´re from Brazil, aren´t you? My girlfriend is, and she speaks Spanish just like you!"
"So, which part of Peru are you from?"
"Your English is really good: which part of Peru are you from?"
"From London! No, but where are you REALLY from?"
" From London! Are you sure?"
"But you´re not blonde, with blue eyes!"
"I went to England once and hated the weather and the food."
"Is it true that you can´t walk down the street for all the umbrellas bumping into each other?"
"Here for the sunny weather, are you?"

Good retorts are:
"When was the last time you were in London?" (Only to people you know have never been outside Spain)
"I earn twice as much as you, have double the number of qualifications, and you´d have to be much better looking to have sex with me!"
"Gibraltar"
"Trafalgar"
"Security!!!!!"

And as for the look on their faces (priceless) and their change in attitude (smarmy, servile grin) when I open my gob and...
(a) they realise that I´ve been listening to all their comments about South Americans,
(b) they realise I´m NOT South American,
(c) they realise I´m English...

And they say "But of course, we don´t mean YOU..."

And who can blame them? They wouldn´t dare approach most stereotypical foreigners from rich countries, let alone address them that way. And those that don´t conform to their stereotype are too polite (especially South Americans) to confront them about their comments.

And yet, none of these are considered offensive, because…
(a) it´s inconceivable that it is humanly possible to insult someone from a poor country – they should be grateful we´re even speaking to them…
(b) we can insult anyone, as long as they are in our country…

Unfortunately, you can only win the Battle (Trafalgar...), not the war, because their retort will be:
"Well, if you don´t like it, go back to your own country!"
Though, not being a confrontational nation, they´ll never say it to your face...

PONCY ARTWORK

Being self-employed is great - you can do stuff you were crap at at school! Look how I´ve been teaching myself to draw...

My pride and joy...imagine sitting here, on balmy nights, after a tough evening out in Madrid, sipping wine, before tucking myself up in bed...


The view from the balcony, before they pulled this 150 year-old building. The view now is great,
but I did like the building - it looked like I lived in an old Spanish pueblo...

A 1920´s cafe on Paseo Recoletos: I stopped here for a coffee, the day I found out I´d won my case against the traffic police for not having a valid driving licence (I have a British one!)


I happen to live next to a huge railway station (Atocha), with a tropical garden inside!

Can´t draw live things, so this is my aquarium without fish...

Next instalment - drawing of Berlin and Mallorca!!

EDUCATION REFORM AGAIN!!

Big deal at the moment about the umpteenth Education Bill Reform here (see previous post "The State of Teaching") Previous and the present Govts are once again trying to improve education in Spain…flogging a dead horse if you ask me!
To add more weight to all this: in London, I was a card-carrying Union rep, and would NEVER have thought of criticising another teacher´s professionalism - here, I do it through Teacher-Training courses...
Here are my Dumbledore-type pronouncements – do tell me if I start to rant unreasonably:
- pay teachers according to the responsibilities they take on, not the number of years served (note British state education, circa 1985): for example, someone with a whip, who goes round, telling staff to put children´s work on the walls, ignoring cries of "What for?? How??);
- ban photocopiers in Primary schools (unless it´s the Xmas party and you´re going to photocopy your bum…);
- ban textbooks (which parents have to pay for, and children develop humpbacks carrying around);
- take all the books out of their dusty display cabinets in school libraries, and put them in racks, for the children to get at. Then, LET THE CHILDREN IN THE LIBRARY!!
- don´t tell kids to study at home, without showing them how;
- don´t teach kids capital letters, when everything in the world is written in lower case;
- explain to teachers that they are not merely babysitters
- send teachers and Heads on anti-racism and pro-gypsy courses (no, that doesn´t involve flamenco lessons…);
- completely revise the Teacher Training courses – more about teaching kids and less about legislation – and a teaching practice where students have to do more than pick their noses for 5 weeks (oooh! how controversial!)
- let Governors (parents, teachers and Heads recruit teachers (especially good ones!) rather than civil servants in far-away offices;
- don´t choose Head teachers by lottery;
- give Heads budgetary control (and then teach them to count further than 10);
- take Education out of the "civil servant" system: teachers will NOT then have a job for life, will have to apply for jobs ; possibly ending up unemployed, but much happier;
- make it easier (ie. carry out EU regulations) for foreigners to teach in Spain, bringing new (well, more modern than 1605) ideas into schools;
- tell teachers not to despise immigrant families who speak more languages, and have more brain cells than they do.

MADRID DAYS

Impressive, huh? Colon...



A cloudy day in Leganés....the Simpsons....











The Crystal Palace in Retiro Park....






Two palm trees at Neptuno...












Does YOUR city have its own Egyptian temple...?

MADRID NIGHT LIGHTS

Madrid really knows how to light up a city! These photos were taken with my mobile this year.

Colon at dusk...


San Isidro fiesta...









Puerta de Alcalá at Xmas...









Fireworks after Shakira appeared...



The Almudena cathedral at dusk...

LEONOR

So... a future Queen of Spain has been born, and her Mum says "Who do you think she looks like?" Well, Winston Churchill, of course, like ALL babies!

And WHAT colour do they wrap her in for her first press call – BEIGE!!! I ask you, talk about conforming to Madrid-female-stereotype. Soon, they´ll be dyeing her hair blonde, dripping her in gold bangles, piercing her (ear) and booking her in for a boob job..

And absolutely NO thought has been given to her upbringing – enlist her in the Forces, or have her learn languages… no contest there.

How about sending her off to Alcampo supermarket to work for under a 1000 Euros a month: then she´d have to live with her parents and grandparents probably till she was 40 (mind you, she´ll probably do that anyway).Poor thing…! I almost feel sorry for her…

CATS I HAVE KNOWN

1994 - Serious Orange, Sparky Black, and Little Sister (deceased...), destined for Battersea Dogs´Home (fat chance, looking so cute!)


2004 - Atocha (aka Patsy), 2 months old, rescued from roof of Atocha Station, now living in La Latina...


Summer 2005 - Homer, flatmate´s cat, trying to keep cool, now living in Lavapies...

Now - Tiffany, traumatised and aggressive, ex-owner back in Aussie...

STOLEN FROM JENNIFER ANN via BELINDA

FIVE THINGS I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT
1 Cat One
2 Cat Two
3 Cat Three (died 3 years ago)
4 My Honda Rebel (stolen 6 years ago)
5 The view from my Madrid balcony

FIVE BAD HABITS I HAVE
1. Speaking my mind
2. Judging on first impression
3. Self-criticism
4. Lending money I don´t have
5. Thinking people are my friends because they like me

FIVE THINGS I WOULD NEVER WEAR
1. Anything pink
2. Size 3 (´cos I can´t)
3. Anything that cost more than 15 Euros
4. A bra
5. Tights

FIVE SHOWS I LIKE
1. Blackadder
2. Vicar of Dibley
3. The Guardian
4. Without Trace
5. Strong Medicine

FIVE PLACES I'VE LIVED
1. Tooting, London
2. Liverpool
3. Manchester
4. Stockwell, London
5. Madrid, Spain

THREE NAMES I GO BY:
1. Tallulah Stormtrooper (In Madrid)
2. Chi Chi Chihuahua (close friends only)
3. Pechi (what people hear when I try to say my name in Spanish)

THREE THINGS I LIKE ABOUT MYSELF:
1. My feet
2. My outspokenness
3. My generosity

THREE THINGS I DISLIKE ABOUT MYSELF:
1. My outspokenness
2. My skin (dry and thin)
3. Inability to lie well

THREE PARTS OF MY HERITAGE:
1. Portugal
2. India
3. London (not England)

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE ME:
1. Waking up married
2. Being poor again
3. Alzheimer´s

THREE OF MY EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Coffee
2. Newspaper
3. Stroking my pussies (!)

THREE THINGS I AM WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Cotton trousers
3. Quiksilver top
3. Black underwear

THREE OF MY FAVORITE BANDS/MUSICAL ARTISTS:
1. Elvis Costello
2. Bebe
3. Evanescence

THREE OF MY FAVORITE SONGS AT PRESENT:
1. Siete Horas (Bebe)
2. Immortal (Evanescence)
3. Weak (Skunk Anansie)

THREE THINGS I WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. Intelligent conversation
2. Frequent sex
3. A travelling companion

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE (in no particular order)
1. I´m the best person I know
2. I am a strong person
3. I love the colour pink

THREE THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX (or same) THAT APPEAL TO ME:
1. Eyes
2. Shape
3. Brain

THREE THINGS I JUST CAN'T DO:
1. Lie
2. Hide the truth
3. Fib

THREE OF MY FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. Sitting on my balcony with a glass of wine
2. Stroking my pussies
3. Photographing Madrid with my mobile phone

THREE CAREERS I´M CONSIDERING:
1. Full-time teacher trainer
2. Self-employment
3. Fame!
THREE PLACES I WANT TO GO ON HOLIDAY:
1. Menorca
2. Berlin
3. Florence (after seeing "Hannibal")

THREE KID'S NAMES:
1. Lewis
2. Dominic
3. Phoebe

THREE THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE:
1. Get rid of hangers-on
2. Work out how to get REAL friends
3. Be happy

THREE SUPER-POWERS I WOULD LIKE:
1 Invisibility
2 Lie-Detecting
3 Beam-Me-Up to holiday destinations (hate travelling)

WITH 1,000,000 Euros, I WOULD
1. Donate to an animal charity
2. Buy a motorbike
3. Pay off my mortgage
4. Invest for my nieces and nephew
5. Save the rest

IN A NUTSHELL...

25 years ago, I
-Thought I´d be a barrister…or an archaeologist
-Was a Classics nerd

20 years ago, I
-Thought I´d be a Teacher of the Deaf
-Was a Yuppie (by virtue of boyfriend)
-Never wanted kids (but no-one believed me)
-Had adopted a Woollyback dog (no, it´s not a breed!)

15 years ago, I
-Had done the mortgage thing
-Had done the pension stuff
-Still didn’t want kids (people said "give it time")
-Had several fish tanks
-Streaked up the Deaf career ladder (short-staffed)

10 years ago, I
-Had reached the top of the Deaf ladder (= Education Officer)
-Had adopted 3 kittens
-Still didn’t want kids (people said "tick, tock")

5 years ago, I
-Had left England (London)
-Had moved to Spain (Madrid)
-Had changed career (TEFL)
-Started driving on the Right
-Started reading for pleasure (Harry Potter)
-Learnt Spanish (fast)
-Set up more fishtanks
-Made several Carnival and Halloween costumes to flaunt in the streets

3 years ago, I
-Became self-employed
-Downshifted to a 15 hour working week
-Upgraded to more disposable income than ever (due to exchange rate, cost of living)
-Upgraded to more disposable free time than ever
-Drove an Automatic for the first time

2 years ago, I
-Started teaching Spanish English teachers how to teach English
-Started brushing up my French (Madame Bovary reader)
-Taught myself (badly) how to play keyboards
-Discovered politics (11-M) and became a news junkie

1 year ago, I
-Started learning German
-Discovered the joy of short-term flatmates
-Still don´t want kids (thank God, people have stopped asking!)

Yesterday, I
-Spent the morning in my usual bar, drinking coffee and scanning the papers for the latest Bush idiocy (Iraq, Sheehan, Katrina, Plame, Americas summit, plummet in the polls)
-Did a couple of hours work (a class of 6 well-behaved 6 year olds)
-Opened a bottle of red wine with my new flatmate (Amy from Bucks)
-Blobbed in front of the TV to watch "Dogma" (Isn´t Alan Rickman great!)

Today, (it´s another Madrid fiesta) I
-Treated my faithful friend, Rakel, to lunch
-Planned our first snowboard lessons at the biggest indoor skislope in Europe (10 mins down the road)
-Met my friend Jill (Californian) to see "Corpse Bride"…ate tapas…drank red wine…

Tomorrow I…
…hope to do the same as yesterday!!!

THE STATE OF TEACHING

There are 2 main sorts here in Madrid: public and private… and I´ve done both - book me in for my nervous breakdown immediately!

Unlike the British system (and, I believe, the American) the primary state school system here is, as the Spanish would say, "special". "Special" is a euphemism in Spanish that means "weird".
The average primary school is very well-equipped – a 2 year old Computer Room, that no-one uses, ´cos half the teachers can´t use a computer.
From the age of 3, children have access to the latest educational teaching methods – "Open your book at page 22 and begin." Though what three year old understands the concept of 22? And begin exactly what?
From the age of 6, homework entails "Study what we have done in class for a test on Monday". How many 6 year olds know how to study? And what´s a test?
Spanish primary teachers have the general knowledge of a dustbin man (sorry to all street cleansers!) in Britain, the political correctness of a London taxi driver, and an insurance broker´s concept of child development.
Many of them are of the age when professional exams for teachers didn´t exist, and the thought of venturing outside Madrid (let alone Spain!) for your holidays is still anathema to them…
And God forbid that children should start looking at words and letters before the age of 6, that they should learn by discovering things for themselves, that they should experiment, that they should use their initiative, that they should think for themselves!
The greatest innovation in education in recent years has been the photocopier – throw a worksheet at a child to shut it up.
And school outings? There is a species of staff at zoos, farms and museums called "the Monitor" – these are young, enthusiastic, knowledgeable helpers who show and explain everything to the kids, while the teachers who brought them sit on their fat "gluteos", drinking coffees and being served lunch till it´s time to go home.
On the other hand, there is a new breed of young, enthusiastic teachers (who unfortunately were educated as above) that will soon drag Spanish education, kicking and screaming, from the 19th century into the 21st! They come to courses I run for Madrid Council, and will be the topic of my next diatribe…can you wait…?

THE GREATER-SPOTTED ENGLISH RESIDENT

There is a strange breed of bird in Madrid – the greater-spotted English teacher.
In contrast with the lesser-spotted American (much rarer), the blue-titted Scottish (females are timid and have too-beautiful manners), and the variegated Irish (gaudy and gregarious), the Anglicus Anglicus is a secretive sort, preferring the "shady" cover of its new habitat..
A range of specimens include:
- those migrating in search of a mate (even though they pretend they´re not)
- those fleeing the nest (and mate)
- those not coping in their British flock (parents, job)
- those without means to feather their nest (the feathers belong to the bank).
Some rarer specimens, hideous nonetheless, change their plumage to suit their new surroundings:
- an altered song (mid-Atlantic drawl for the cocks, usually),
- creatively-accounted past (or even present)
– involving camoflage as another species (or income bracket),
- or attempt entering, a flock, cuckoo-like, where their former habitat habits will go unrecognised – such as…
...the nervous twitch
...the pretence at heterosexuality
...the unusable bank cards
...complete stark raving lunacy…
But it all comes out in the wash – or at least its slip is showing: wherever the migratory path, you take your distinctive plumage, song, habits, and the weather with you.
´Course, none of this applies to me – the common or garden sparrow can live anywhere!
Comments, anyone?

THE SPANISH according to SOD´S LAW

A handy set of tips so that you´ll blend in…

- Wear beige and Burberry (more, if you´re a woman)
- After the age of grey hairs, adopt a “blonde helmet” – dyed, styled, and rigid (not you, guys!).
- Wear Ben Sherman shirts, Chinos, crew-neck jumpers tied around your neck (only for those aged 3 and over),
- Complain about the heat or the cold, whenever the temperature changes by one degree. Change wardrobe accordingly at a moment’s notice.
- Clean your abode in every spare moment,
- Claim Child Benefit (legally) till you are 28,
- Study till you´re 30, then get your first full-time job,
- Live with your parents till you hit 45 and can afford to rent a flat,
- Live within walking distance of work, or else, move house,
- Throw out all furniture over 3 weeks old,
- Have your rubbish collected every night at 2am, by gorgeous blokes.
- Have your streets cleaned every morning at 8.30am, by beautifully made-up model types (and the women are even better!).
- Wander around the city at night for hours with friends, deciding which bar to patronise,
- Eat every single part of an animal, preferably in the middle of the day… - …and then wear its skin,
- Drink wine, as long as it´s Spanish,
- Have the roads (and your car’s wheels) washed every week, at 3am – even when it´s pouring with rain…
- Always park your car with the handbrake off, so other people can push it forward when you block them in.
- Double park, and when you are blocked in, beep your horn till someone comes out of a nearby building, to move their offending car.
- Always stop to gurgle at babies in buggies, especially if blonde – the baby, not you).
- Have sex in every available public place: tube stations, park benches, because you can’t next door to your parents’ bedroom.
- Support and live with your children till they are 40, and your parents and in-laws till they peg out.
- Go out with your first, school-met, crush for 15 years, split up, and 2 months later, marry someone completely different (even as far as their gender!)
- Have less than 1.0 children. Spoil it.
- Never let a child near a computer till the age of consent!
- Have your child pierced (ears) at birth, to mark it as female.
- Get stuck in a traffic jam every Friday night (and then again, on Sunday night) for your get-away-from-it-all weekend break,
- Have terrible clutch control,
- Spend every weekend in the cottage in your family’s village, handed down from generation to generation, cramped with every other member of your family.
- Make sure you have 2 parents who come from 2 different villages, to spread the “crampedness”.
- Make sure you always brush (barge) past people on public transport, dislodging their bags as you do it,
- Slag off foreigners (but only those from poorer countries) at least once a week (principally because they speak more languages than you, or earn more money),
- Take a training course to park on a postage stamp (nudging other cars compulsory),
- Aim for a civil servant job-for-life, then spend years failing all the relevant exams,
- Be promoted for the years you served, not the initiative you,ve shown (or not…)
- Study English for years, and NEVER speak it.
- Be ripped off constantly by the monopolistic telephone company, complain a lot about it to everyone, except the telephone company.
- Only keep a dog if you live in a 20 sq m flat (or less), and it cost a lot of money (the dog, not the flat), and it has a certificate in Biting of the Highest Order….
- …Make sure you abandon it in a park, when you go on your month-long summer hols!
- At Carnival time, do NOT dress up, just congregate in places where other people are dressed up, to gawp at.
- Work all year (13 hours a day away from home) till July, then let it all hang out on a Spanish beach (God forbid that you might consider going abroad! Yeeuck!), returning home in September, depressed,
- Never take "sickies",
- Look up to the British for no good reason,
- Be smug about the eccentricities (circa 1940) of the British,
- Be slightly embarrassed about the eccentricities of the Spanish.
and despite it all, be really stable and well-adjusted!
Tick the box if you do any of the above…. Know anymore? Do I sound bitter?