the KGB and El Greco

Any sock and sandal wearing blond, blued eyed foreigner, general holiday maker is a girri this is what the Spanish call us. Similar to the Isle of Wight,  the locals call all the tourists grockles. But the Spanish don’t stop there, the French The Gabachoes (the frogs), like the UK over the centuries the French and Spanish have fought; meaning a tag slightly more bitter, but a worse deal is anybody not from a northern European country or the States.
The Chinese are chinos (chinkies) the Chinese have many corner shops like the Pakistanis in the UK. Anyone from Romania or Russia is instantly branded as a criminal, basically organised crime is now dominated by eastern nationals that have a different ethic, steal and kill. The consequence of this is mistrust of any otherwise law abiding Romanians living in the neighbourhood.
Perhaps the worst deal are people from Morocco The moros. Because of the 800 year re-conquest they will never escape this disrespectful title. If you have any art history knowledge you may have heard of El Greco 17th century, a Greek painter that lived and worked in Spain for most of his life, But ask for him by his real name Domenikos Theodokopouls, you’ll receive the international shoulder shrug expression of ‘I don’t know’. Like any country prejudice and racism exist but perhaps the Spanish are rather less subtle in there dislikes.

I moved into a block of flats in a small northern city, going up in the lift just me and a Spanish couple in their 40s reluctantly said good morning I tried to be friendly talking about the weather, eventually the woman ask where I was from, I told her London, ‘Oh that’s all right then’ what a response as I’m sure she thought I was a Russian criminal. I have known a Scottish girl who was spat at because they presumed she was a Russian prostitute and all this from your friendly Pedro and Maria. 
I lived with a body builder from Ecuador, very friendly giant and softly spoken, when I met up with my friend Gonzalo I told him who I was living with and he reacted with the same mistrust as it I had said a member of the KGB. Truth is that the south American cousins though they speak the same language they get a rough time, lower pay and worse conditions doing the jobs that the Spanish don’t want to do. The construction boom meant there were a lot of building jobs and population increased by an artificial 5 million, people from Columbia, Venezuela, Peru, Honduras however once this bubble burst the dole queues shot up giving Spain the worst unemployment figures in Europe. The South Americans rank very low in the pecking order I feel rather privileged to come from a wealthy and modern country.
Although having said that being blond and having blue eyes means that no matter how good I can speak the language or understand the customs, to your average Spaniard I will always be 'el inglés'. I do have some very nice and educated Spanish friends who like most of us realise that this integration problem all over the world takes two to tango.

So here is a verbal dance:

One test of how I was progressing with my Spanish was loosening my rag. I often train in the gym especially in the winter, and yes the winters inland can be very cold. Using the work bench and dumbbells to begin my morning routine. The usual faces were there, the Romanian gym owner, shit house door, the Colombian plumber two shit house doors, Kiko Spanish Kick-boxer, these guys were chatty but we cracked on with our workouts. There was one wana-be kick-boxer there too I had seen this prick a few times doing his 1970 stretching and generally flapping about. So that morning he piped up a tell me to add more weight in a you don’t know what your doing tone. I just glared. The second and third comment came, I can’t remember what I said exactly but I let him have it in Spanish, this tosser then gave it the you’re not Spanish etc which I thought was rather rich as the dude that owned the place wasn’t Spanish either. So pal I told him in his language that unless he can speak another language that he should zip it. He grumbled on so I recalled a situation where and Irish friend had a row with a guy about driving and as soon as my mate gave him abuse in English the guy bottled it and sped off. I thought I’d try some of that so I strung together some fuck yous and fuck offs etc until the gym own had heard enough and dinged the bell. nobody won but it did feel great to test my Spanish language skills under pressure.