The first thing you notice as you enter are the seats on the right hand sidewall, usually fully occupied. Not a good sign, as the queue in front of you is at least four or five long. "who is the last" I ask, only for a hand to be raised from one of the people sitting down? "Thank you" I say and look at the clock on the wall. I calculate it will half an hour or more before, I am served.
Have you ever noticed that when you visit the bank or post office yours is a quick transaction, it can be done in two minutes or more? Whilst everyone in front of you brings sheaths of papers out of their bag, and your heart sinks!
One of the things that I do like is the way the Spanish people will automatically make eye contact with you and say "hello" whenever you are out and about. Whether walking along or entering an establishment, it is the protocol to acknowledge strangers.
Queuing is no different, as you arrive, so everyone will turn and say "good morning" to you, and you in turn reply the same. Unlike the British who will stand in a queue, quietly and patiently. in Spain they will strike up a conversation. Soon from the counter clerk to the pensioner, heads are nodding, arms are waving. You stand there smiling and nodding as though you knew everything that is going on , "yes, yes, of course" and glance again at the clock. The hands are moving, but not the queue!
At the counter, the clerk Javier is dealing with each client, then the phone rings and he immediately answers. Somebody needs information on their account, and so he stops dealing with the client at the counter and checks the computer for the caller. "No", I am screaming inside, as this event is repeated constantly. "Please I only want to deposit this money". Meanwhile the heads are nodding and the arms are waving, nobody is in hurry, but me.
Eventually I arrive at the counter, Javier smiles, and "how are you"? he asks, I reply that I am fine and hand him my money, the phone rings Oh no! not again, but I smile and wait and once he has finished he deals with me. Two minutes, I am done, leaving, saying my goodbyes to everyone and vowing never to go in there again!
If you visit the butchers, bakers or fishmongers in most villages and towns, there are always seats inside. This I do think is a lovely idea and something that could be adopted in the UK. For the weary person, no matter what age, it is good to be able to sit whilst the people in front are being dealt with. Not only that but you are entering a social arena, where the main focus is not the transaction but the verbal interaction.
The atmosphere when you go out shopping is of a continuous social network. Very much like the humming of bees that float in from the street into the shop and then out again, only to be picked up as you enter the next establishment. People have time for each other and speed does not really matter.
Having painted a picture of social charm and relaxation please be aware of one of the most cunning queue jumpers known to man, The pensioner still wearing slippers, is quite a common sight in Spain. Pensioners, both male and female to go out in their slippers, comfort being everything, and certainly in the south of Spain, climatically not a problem.
My husband was the first of us to become a victim to such a person in a local supermarket. Having collected what he needed, he arrived at the cash desk and was waiting in a long queue. Eventually as he moved closer to the checkout, he became aware of an elderly woman hovering close to him. As he was about to put his shopping on the counter, she gratefully looked at him holding a few bananas in her hand. Him being the gentleman, proffered her to move in front to be served. Quick as a flash she was there and suddenly produced a shopping trolley from nowhere, laden to the top with groceries! When he came home, he told me" I have just been mugged by a little old lady"!
This guilt trick is something I have experienced as well, "I only want to ask a question, do you mind" What can you say that would not make you hated by all onlookers, and as you wait and they conclude their transaction, you stand there smiling but knowing.
As with everything in life. experience is your greatest teacher and guide and over the years, I have learnt how to adapt from the retiring "English rose" who stood there whilst all and sundry mowed me down. We are brought up that it is impolite to jump the queue and wait to be acknowledged. Not now, when I go to my local Sunday market, I pick my goods, then bag them and put them in front of the stallholder. "Who is next?", "Me" I call out and with money in my hand, I am served. I walk away, knowing that I have been absorbed into the culture, knowing how to play the game and win.
As for visiting the bank, that is something I have not yet mastered, but that is life.
Carol_Linda_Roberts
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