Even the Locals Look Like Tourists in the Plaza Mayor
05. Aug, 2008 
9 Comments
Someone recently asked me if I liked living in Spain. I said, “I love it, I’ve adopted this city as my own, I’m very protective of it, even against the throngs of tourists.” Of course, in my neighborhood, I don’t have to defend it very often. The tourists rarely venture this far north (4 metro stops from downtown), and at best, I’ll encounter a British Expat who likely speaks better Spanish than me.
This weekend we ventured into the heart of Madrid’s tourist zone: Plaza Mayor. I needed to visit the official tourism office to pick up some information for a piece I’m working on. I wore a tank top, hopped on the back of the Vespa and Drew and I headed downtown. Within 30 minutes I was scorched. Since it was just going to be a quick trip, I didn’t think to put on any sunblock. I’ve never burned so quickly in my life.
So there I was, in the middle of the tourist zone, sun burned, wandering around lost, looking for the tourist office. Sometimes you just can’t help but look like a tourist. We even had an Australian backpacker approach us and start up a conversation. When we told him we had been in Madrid for over a month, he balked. “Oh you mean traveling around Spain for a month,” he corrected. For whatever reason he wouldn’t accept the idea that we were living here in Madrid, getting sunburned and hanging out in the tourist zone. I couldn’t blame him.
This episode left me thinking about the difference context makes in people’s perceptions. This morning, for example, I was flying into Lisbon, reading a magazine in Spanish and my still tender skin was covered with a black t-shirt. The flight attendent asked me in Spanish to move my bag under the seat. I did. She turned to the woman behind me, and asked her the same thing, but this time in English. How did she decide that I would understand Spanish? While I’ll never pass for a Spaniard, it’s nice to know that sometimes I can pass for something other than a tourist.
That’s a great story! I remember when I was in Turkey a woman came up and asked us a question in Russian (which was where we had just been studying and thus knew enough to answer). It’s extremely bizarre but also incredibly flattering to have people just assume you speak their language.
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You officially an un-official citizen of Spain. Reading the Spanish magazine, she probably figured you’d understand her. Plaza Mayor is nice, as is Plaza del Sol, especially at night. Saludos.
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Life is so transitory. One moment you are a proud citizen and the next, you have no clue. Keeps things interesting doesn’t it?
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I went on one of those double decker tour buses in Lisbon, Portugal one day. Because it was pretty chilly at the top of the bus as you zoom around the tightest of corners, you do not think that sunscreen would be necessary. I woke up the next morning blistering because I burnt so bad! You can never be too careful!
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Have a great time in Lisbon! Being a tourist gets a bad rap, but sometimes it’s just really fun to do touristy stuff and not care that people know you’re not from the area. I don’t mind if people don’t think I’m French…I’m not!
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Hey Christine!
Just discovered your site through Write To Travel — great stuff. I wanted to touch base with you for a few reasons: 1) I’m a travel blogger (I write for Gadling, Vagablogging, Written Road, Planet Eye, Map Magazine, and European Vibe) 2) I live in Madrid! Have been here for almost 2-years now, 3) I also left a corporate job to live this life.
So, I was wondering if you’d fancy a beer sometime in Madrid…are you here for a while? Here’s my email address should you be interested! abha.malpani@gmail.com
Keep writing!
Abha
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Love it! Isn’t it the best NOT to be considered a tourist. Abha- would love to hear about your experiences, will check out your blog. Am also trying to do the same… still in my job as of now, hoping for a sabbatical next spring…
Several years ago, I got stopped by an American tourist in Munich and asked if I could speak English (in poor German). After telling her where the post office was (the only place I knew as I’d just been there), she said that I spoke English very well and how long had I been learning it. When I told her “around 25 years” she said that I must be keen on languages. She happily trotted off to the post office none the wise that I was Australian and had been in Munich for less than 24-hours.
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Ah it’s a wonderful moment when you can pass off as a local when you’re living abroad.
It’s also nice to get into “tourist” mode in your host town and appreciate the sights. That’s one of my favourite things about having friends come visit me (after I’ve been living at a place for a while.) You start to appreciate familiar sites again from their perspective – I always end up during those visits with warm fuzzy feelings of wherever I’m staying again.
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