Another week is whipped from under
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By Parson Thru
- 6367 reads
It’s almost the middle of March.
I’m standing at the fish counter preparing my lines.
The man is washing the work area down.
I greet him and he turns around.
“Buenos días! Que desea?” he asks.
I ask for 200 grams of langostinos cocidos.
“Where are you from?” he says in hesitant English.
I tell him I’m from England, trying to keep my Spanish going. Nobody ever talks about “Britain” or “the UK” here.
He scoops up a handful of langostinos and drops them into the weighing pan, dripping the last few in to reach the 200 grams.
“How long have you lived here?” he asks.
I tell him almost three years.
“Not long.” he says, and I agree.
Then he says “I’ve only been here for one and a half.”
That surprises me, as up until then I’d have said he was Spanish.
“De donde eres?” I ask him.
“I’m Palestinian.” he replies. “From Gaza.”
He’s wrapped the langostinos and stuck the price on.
“How do you say Palestinian in Spanish?” I ask.
“Palestino.” he answers.
I need a fish, too – the woman at the meat counter hadn’t seemed interested in serving me. I look along the sections of fish. I had a trout last weekend, but they don’t look so good today. The sea bass look fresh: shiny with a nice bright eye. Someone once told me to look for that. The dorada above them look nice, too. I’ve never cooked a dorada – there’s something more exotic about it.
I ask for one in Spanish.
He takes one from the top of the counter and holds it up for me.
“Éste?” he asks. They all look the same.
“Sí. Bueno.” I answer.
“Limpio?” he asks.
“Sí, por favor.” I reply, and he sets about scraping the scales away and cutting the fins off with a pair of scissors. Something sickens me about watching flesh being cut in that way. He finds the vent with the point and snips up to around about the gills. The noise reminds of the crunch when I accidently bite the inside of my mouth.
He hooks the innards out and drops them into a bin that I can’t see, then rinses the empty cavity.
“Your Government is very bad.” he says. “They’re doing bad things to Palestinians.”
“All governments are bad.” I offer, making the money sign with my thumb and finger.
There’s so much shit going on just now that I’ve lost track.
I notice a stocky old lady next to me. She’s wearing a long brown raincoat and giving us both dark looks. Maybe she’s just being patient.
“I don’t mind people like you.” he says. “Or Americans even. But I don’t like your Governments.”
I ask him his name.
“Muhammad.” he answers.
I tell him mine.
“Encantado!” he says.
“Igualmente!” I reply.
He weighs the fish and wraps it, sticking the price on.
“Algo más?”
“Nada más.” I answer and he swings the bags across the counter to me.
“Gracias!” I say.
Then, completely randomly, “Palestine needs lots of friends.”
I’ve no idea what I meant and I’m not sure Muhammad knows either.
We wave and exchange “Adiós!” and “Hasta luego!” and I’m off, heading for the checkout.
When I look back, the old lady is pointing at the dorada. It’s on special offer.
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Comments
Three years already??? It
Three years already??? It only seems like the other day when you were planning to go!
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Dorada is very good
you should give it a try, big bones as I recall, less chance of choking yourself.
Have you tried Espada (black or silver) also nice, but don't eat the skin it concentrates heavy metals.
It takes a long time to buy a fish in Spain doesn't it? Mind you I'd like to see the face of the guy in Tescos if you asked him to descale a Sea Bass.
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Airfix parts, good analogy
When you finish one you're left with classic cartoon fish skeleton :)
An Espada is called a scabbard fish in English I think, probably because it looks a scabbard with vicious teeth at one end. I had it in Portugal. They also had them in Las Palmas, but my Spanish friend wasn't too keen because of its ugly mug so I gave it a miss.
Always good to read your diary, it reminds me of some good time in LPGC and Lanzarote.
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Parson, as someone for whom
Parson, as someone for whom the closest thing to "abroad" is backseat in the Google Earth car I find your diary entries interesting and I really enjoy the details. Please keep them going
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Great start to something you
Great start to something you continue I hope
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I like that it's a collage
I like that it's a collage though, makes it more real somehow
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Hello Parson,
Hello Parson,
I had been wondering if you were still living in Spain. You certainly conjure up a good image of Spanish life. I always enjoy your writing though only recently have I been able to start reading yours and one or two others. again.
Moya x
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Hello Kevin,
Hello Kevin,
Yes, I have tried Dragonspeak but it had difficulty recognising my cockney accent. Some of the words it was coming up with were hilarious but wrong. My nephew bought Dragon for me but now it seems to have disappeared from my computer. Probably I've pressed a wrong key inadvertently. Something I do quite often.
Moya x
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This
(fish-) slice of life is more than the sum of its parts. In fact, it's the sort of thing that ought to win the Sunday broadsheets' travel writing competitions, but never does. Therefore, it is today's Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day. Why not share or retweet if you like it too?
Image is from pxhere.com and licence is CC0
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Worth reading for the fishy
Worth reading for the fishy tips alone. I am in Portugal right now and yesterday was wet and windy but the 2 before were great, plane home today. You described your encounter with the fish vendor well. When Im an Englishwoman abroad I sometimes feel a right wally. Hope we have that second referendum, swallow our pride...
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