El amigo del baile

Socializing, Andalucia, 2020

I was chatting with two young brothers from Seville, probably in their late twenties at the Meadow's Festival last weekend.  We fell to discussing regional accents and stereotypes.  I had heard some Spaniards from Valencia and Catalonia speak dismissively of Andalusians as amigos del bar, que no son personas serias.  De trabajadores, nada tienen. The older brother looked fun, mischievous.  he was the slim one, the dancer, a party guy. The younger was better at English, more heavily set.  He told me at serious length about his PhD: he was looking for some islands referenced centuries back which he already knew did not exist.  And they gave you money for this? I said, bemused again at academia, a world where logic begins to eat its tail.

I turned to party guy.  I'm looking for things that do exist he said, tipping his head back and crinkling his eyes. He already had laughter lines around the corners. He liked salsa and the more overtly sensual dancers of kizomba and reggaeton. There are many aficionados of salsa music. People who like kizomba and reggaeton like it because of the dancing.  I've never met anyone who is passionate for the music in itself. It's not music with depth. It's for your twenties, for ligar.  

Not wanting to hurt their feelings, while still wanting to set a spark to the conversation  I mentioned the amigos del bar part. 

Uh-huh, he said mildly, while  grinning fixedly into the distance at, I imagined, those Catalan bastards, while saying nothing.  

Later, the word engañar came up.  We don't have a word for it, I said, grinning myself. We aren't like that. They believed me for a moment.  I told them it was to deceive.  

But there is a Spanish word that is harder to translate: picaro. I had forgotten all of its connotations: cunning, trickery, deceit, mischievousness, precociousness, adventure.  

Is it associated with a particular regions?

They did a good impression of not squirming and again said nothing.

It's you guys, isn't it?

Sí, se lo dicen de nosotros, they admitted.  It was hard to say if it was with resignation or pride.

The more sociable brother, a young woman and I moved off from the Spanish language group to look at the salsa. He danced, politely with the young girl, a beginner and was off, social-butterflying round the wider group of dancers and spectator, chatting, laughing, dancing, el amigo del baile while the young woman and I chatted earnestly about her travels and the Argentinian national park, she recommended, Pali Aike.