Journal Entries

Going mobile

The best thing to have happened since my last entry occurred while standing in El Bar Tractor- yes, that’s right, The Tractor Bar, possibly so named in a crafty attempt to attract the custom of the many tractor owners in Albondigas.

El Bar Tractor catches the morning sunshine. Consequently it is a popular meeting place for the crusty old boys of this farming community. They gather outside, warming tired bones and puffing on evil smelling roll-ups.
I made my way through their number, uttering a cheerful ‘Buenos Dias’. They responded in a chorus, one even tugging at his forelock. So much for the civilities. That I will always be a foreigner to them is of little consequence, but I do wish they’d stop staring as if I’d just beamed in from another planet.

Inside the bar a dozen regulars were drinking and smoking and kicking up a racket. The television was at full volume, and Manolo, the owner, serving coffee with maximum noisy hyperactivity. But all this is to be expected. El Tractor is nothing if not typical of small pueblo bars. This morning, however, Angel, a definite modernists amid the Neanderthals, had decided to introduce the clientele to the latest communications technology by showing off his new mobile phone.

It’s not that mobiles are unknown around here. Indeed, there must be at least half a dozen in the village, all flaunted with pride, but who actually phones the owners remains a mystery. Maybe they’ve formed a club, the members of which call each other up as often as possible to discuss the price of sardines. Whatever, the ultimate cool is to be seen answering your gadget in public.

Having repositioned his mobile several times; from the bar to his belt, from his belt to his pocket, and so on, Angel was alarmed to suddenly find himself the absolute centre of attention. His phone was ringing!

Angel knew he had to get this right. Striking a casual pose - one elbow on the bar, a focused look in his eyes suggesting he could actually see the caller hovering in the middle distance - he raised the phone to his ear and said Si!

So far so good. This was the first time a mobile had gone off in Bar Tractor. The captive audience was well impressed, and straining hard to hear the conversation, all of which came from the caller, a woman with a particularly strident voice. When she’d finished Angel said ‘Si!’ again, and then stood staring at the phone.

‘The wife,’ he announced rather lamely. We nodded sympathetically at such an intrusion. ‘But how the hell did she knew I was here?’ he added, glaring at the mobile as if it had betrayed him.

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Latest reply: Sep 8, 2001

A Beginning

My pueblo is not really called Albaricoque, which means apricot. I have changed its name for reasons of privacy. However, Albaricoque exists. It is a real place. About one k away there is another pueblo called Albondigas. It is much larger, with a population of a thousand souls. Although close together there are a lot of differences between Albaricoque and Albondigas. You will understand these differences better should you look up albondigas in a Spanish-English dictionary.

It is the daily mundanities, the gossip and the denunciations, that I shall comment upon in my journal. Also what it is like living with a dog who bites people...mind you, I'd have bitten most of them too!

Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: Sep 4, 2001


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