There are many silly seasons in Seville, one or two of which I’ve written about before. And now we are the start of a new one: the September American invasion. The month when hordes of young gabbling Americans, particularly 20 year girls, come to learn Spanish. They’ve already murdered English and now they’ve come to do their worst with another perfectly good language. Brutus, although stabbed in the back, at least met his death quickly. However, Americans seem to delight in putting their language victims through a long and agonising death because as they slowly twist the acoustic knife in the ear of the passers-by, they always have a benign toothy smile. I say slowly because although the speech might be rapid, it is interminable and meaningless with its plethora of fillers.

One word gives them away, and that word is ‘like’ which seems to occur, on average, about every 2 1/4 words. And if you are unavoidably forced because of the volume to over-hear the high pitched yelping which passes for conversation, you are hard pressed to make much sense of the monosyllabic utterances that supposedly have some communication value as the struggle to fathom the meaning of ‘like’ overwhelms the listener. And if the much abused word is actually used in one of its many correct uses, I at least am totally distracted and lose any thread I might have had on the subject in hand. I wonder why like was chosen for this particular role. Linguistically like is very complicated and has a multitude of uses and meanings. Why couldn’t a simpler word have been chosen for such an ignominious place in American English?

For some obscure reason, I had quite recently the occasion to read part of a speech by Senator Robert C. Byrd (speech to Congress 10 July 1998) who maintained that ‘you know’ was the ubiquitous expression that drove him nuts. ‘Like’ gets an honourable mention in his discourse but ‘you know’ got all his attention and his staff went through a purgatory of sorts to eradicate the demon expression. Either that or they joined the Democrats. Senator Byrd would find comfort in an article I read last year by a Spanish academic of the Royal Academy, an august body, set up to protect the language from foreign barbarians and indigenous louts, who argued that the impoverishment of the spoken language was a sign of the decline of that culture.

‘Like’ is not the only thing that gives Americans away in Seville. The other two main things are an appalling dress sense (a uniform of khaki sorts and a white t-shirt) and a gait that would shame a front row forward. Where are you Ron Barassi, Sergio Silvani and John Gould, the elegant centre half back of Carlton? The only Australian Rules footballer to dress well. So I apologise to fellow Melbournians for the change in sport but there is nothing to compare them with the heavy-thighed thrusting walk of the front row forward, together with the slouching, hunched shoulders, presumably to protect the remaining teeth and the one half good ear. Americans, by and large, have good teeth and two normal ears but its the walk that sets them apart in comparison to Sevillan women, who have normal ears but perhaps are a little dentally prejudiced, not having Hollywood, the model, just around the corner.

The women of Seville walk incredibly gracefully. They move from the hips and not the thighs, their backs are straight and they hold their heads upright. From an early age they are dancing Flamenco and every woman from three to ninety dances Sevillanas which demands grace and elegance from the whole body. The upright posture come from the twirling of the arms and hands above the shoulders and the stamping and what have you entails movement from the hips.

So bring on the dancing girls and the football player look-alikes can all go home and murder somebody else’s ears.

Patrick
Seville
July 1999