Stereotypes
As my previous posts on bullfighting, guiris and marmite go to show, I love a good stereotype. As I see it, there is a thin line between pinpointing the culture of a country and generalizing about the habits of its people. In Spain, it’s a two-way thing. Which came first, the restaurants selling overpriced sangria and paella on the Rambla, or the tourists eager to pay for it?
And so it was on Sunday night when I ended up going to a flamenco show. Now, I won’t pretend that I know anything about flamenco. I was lucky enough to see Pepe Habichuela perform live, but I couldn’t tell you much about the art form in general. In fact, I was looking forward to seeing flamenco dancers for the first time, with the added highlight of an acquaintance singing in the show .
Yeah, get me, mingling with the locals.
Not that there were any locals watching. The restaurant was the worst example of a tacky tourist trap. Themed to look like an Andalucian tavern, complete with plastic grapes adorning the walls and a rustic ’well’ in the centre of the room, it was filled with slightly bewildered looking Russian, Japanese and American couples. Everything was an over exaggeration of “typical Spain”, from the golden statue of the Virgin Mary to the terracotta tiles jutting out over the alcoves. At the entrance was a stall selling castanets and fans- because what self respecting tourist could go home from Spain without them?
Don’t get me wrong, the guitar playing and the singing were excellent. I find it incredible the coordination between dancer, singer and guitarist, not to mention that the friend in question was only on her second night, without ever having practiced with the others.
I suppose my point is this. A desire to see something of an authentic Spain is, in my opinion, admirable, and far better than using the country solely for its beaches and weather. But it can sometimes turn into a vicious circle. Tourists want Spain, and the more “Spanish” their experience the better. So those who sell the spanishest things get the most business, and the whole thing gets warped. The natives mock the tourists dim enough to pay for the products they’re selling, but the visitors themselves don’t know any better.
Anyway.
The main conclusion I have drawn from the whole experience?
I’m going to take up flamenco dancing. ¡Olé!
Me, in the near future.
Barcelona Ramblings 