Category Archives: spanish

Why Do We Call José “Pepe”?

¡Hola, don Pepito! ¡Hola, Don José! So goes a popular children’s song in Spain … but once you start thinking about it, you realize both of these men are named José, and you start wondering what’s really going on here.

Hola Don Pepito

One of the many things that used to baffle me was the origin of Spanish nicknames. (Oh okay, they still kinda baffle me!) I understood how “Francisco” could become “Fran” and “Beatriz” could become “Bea,” but I didn’t quite understood where the heck “Pepe” came from!

There are no Ps in the name José.
There are the same amount of syllables in both Pepe and José, thus saving you no time.

I decided to turn to the ultimate source, Mario’s dad. As I have explained before, he is knowledgeable about so many aspects of Spanish culture, being a former teacher and all-around know-it-all in the best way. If I ever have a “duda,” he’s the guy I go to, especially if that duda has to do with plants, animals, climate, or Spanish history. He’s my guy.

He told me all about the reasoning behind the nicknaming process, but it all went over my head, a great whoosh! of knowledge flying speedily in one ear and out the other. A few years later, still feeling rather flummoxed, I sat down to put an end to this ignorance of mine.

Pepe. This diminutive comes from the name José as I said earlier. There are two theories out there. The first, often espoused by the Spanish, is that it comes from the abbreviation of pater putativus (P.P.), which means “supposed Father” in Latin, attributed to Joseph of Nazareth (José de Nazaret), Mary’s husband and Jesus’s supposed father. This is mainly a popular legend, and most reputable sources claim that the real story is that Pepe comes from the Italian Beppe, short for Giuseppe (the Italian cognate for Joseph). I guess even most Spaniards have something to learn from this blog post!
Paco. Paco comes from Francisco. St. Francis of Assisi was known as the Pater Comunitatis (Father of the Community) when he founded the Franciscan order. Thus, we get Paco from the first two letters of each word.

Other diminutives of interest:

Chema. One of Mario’s friends in Salamanca when I met him was called Chema, and I had no idea his real name was José María for the longest time. Never mind that whole using a female name thing as well.
Sito. Mario’s cousin, Sito, ran the marathon with him, as you might recall. Any guesses to his given name? Alfonso. Sitos are usually Alfonsos, although there is probably an exception out there somewhere. Alfonso –> Alfonsito –> Sito.
Quique/Kike. Comes from Enrique.
Chus, Susi, Suso. Those with the name Jesús out there have a lot of different nicknames!

Which Spanish nicknames do you find the most amusing or interesting?

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Why Are You in Spain?

21 Replies

Ah, the question. The question. I ask it a lot of others; they in turn ask it of me. I love and hate this question, because I love knowing other people’s stories, but I have no idea how to answer it without starting off on some ten-minute-long storytelling session, leaving my questioner with his/her mouth agape and mind reeling by it all.

So, let me just ask you, readers:

Why are you here?

Now that I’ve asked that, I can tell you why I’m here. As it says on my about page, I came to learn Spanish. I stayed for a boy. Mainly.

Would it shock you to know I kinda sorta hated study abroad? I was old enough not to get homesick, but I still did. I did not like living in a teeny-tiny room in an old nunnery with walls so thin you could hear your roommate typing late at night. I didn’t like having to wash my clothes in the shower because the laundry room charged upwards of $10 a load. (This was back when the one euro equaled something like $1.50.) I didn’t like feeling as if it were impossible to make friends except for drinking buddies and intercambios who weren’t really interested in hanging out with me after hours. I didn’t like seeing my bank account drain slowly down to almost nothing.

But I did like learning Spanish. I did like that, and so I dove in headfirst, as much as I could. I got another intercambio because one just wasn’t enough. I spoke to all the waiters in Spanish, even if they insisted on speaking to me in English (the bastards). I studied vigorously, even when all of my classmates were basically taking a semester off. I traveled as much as my budget would allow. I learned to love red wine, olives, and tortilla de patata.

But there was so much I didn’t know at the end of my stay! I didn’t know how to tapear, I hadn’t mastered the subjunctive, I had never had a real Spanish friend that I could text and ask to hang out with. This bothered me. I went back for my senior year unsure of the future and what would happen after May 2009.

As senior year wore on, I had a decision to make—find a job or go back to Spain? I chose Spain, specifically Salamanca. I was excited to experience a new side of Spain, to live in my own apartment, and meet Spaniards. Oh yeah, and improve my Spanish.

I got back to Spain in September 2009, a year and three months after I’d left Toledo. A few days later, I met Mario. He came to the door of the place I was interning, and I was unintentionally rude to his friend and him, but he still went out to dinner with us. The next day, I pretty much asked him out, and the rest was history. My mother waited patiently by the computer to hear updates about this guy I talked about all the time, even though she’d warned me not to fall in love with any Spaniard (only because that could keep me far away from her). Oops! I was head over heels after a few weeks. After a month, I met the family. After three, I was ready to stay indefinitely, if it meant we could be together.

Staying in Spain is not an easy task for many reasons. There’s bureaucracy. There’s homesickness. There’s cultural differences that drive me crazy at times. There’s times when I get so sick of Spanish, of struggling to find the word that I just want to scream, pack my suitcase, and get on the next plane to Chicago. Get me outta here! Mario knows this more than anyone. Luckily, although he wouldn’t feel the same way, he sympathizes as best he can.

There are some expats that love Spain much more than I do (although, don’t get me wrong, I do love it), and they’d stay forever if it were up to them, boyfriend / girlfriend / husband / wife / lover or not. I wouldn’t, though. If not for this husband of mine, I’d be in the States, where my family is, where my friends are, where my history is. Living in another country wears on me, and I’d love to be able to just hop in my car and drive to my parents’, but right now it’s just not possible.

Right now we’re here; right now this is our home. It may not be for forever. That’s okay. When I married a Spaniard, I gave up that right to certainty about where home is. Home is here. Home is there. Home is Zamora, it’s Crawfordsville, it’s Bloomington, it’s Salamanca. It’s Spain and it’s the US. That’s why I’m here.

What about you?

When 1 Word in English = 3+ in Spanish

12 Replies

When you first start learning a language, it’s all fun and games! Hey, today I learned 20 new words! And they’re words I’ll use more than once a month! Now, though, I learn words like surco and resarcir and resquebrajar. Those words, believe it or not, don’t come out of my mouth that often.

Sometimes I find there are two words in English for one word in Spanish. For example, dove and pigeon. Are those two birds really different? (Wikipedia says not really.) But a lot of times there’s one word in English for a few in Spanish. This is what trips me up. Let’s talk examples.

Towel

Definition: a piece of thick absorbent cloth or paper used for drying oneself or wiping things dry.

But in Spanish:Toalla

Paño

Trapo (de cocina)

Rag

Definition: a piece of old cloth, esp. one torn from a larger piece, used typically for cleaning things.

But in Spanish:

Trapo Trapo

Bayeta

Bowl

Definition: a round, deep dish or basin used for food or liquid.

But in Spanish:

Bol

Tazón

Cuenco

Plato hondo

Scarf

Definition: a length or square of fabric worn around the neck or head.

But in Spanish:

Bufanda

Pañuelo?
Foulard/Fular?
Pashmina?

To Be

This is the biggest. To be or not to be? ¿Ser o no ser? ¿Estar o no estar? I’ve finally mastered this, but sometimes I still wonder why a person cannot ser loco, he must estar loco.

Okay, what about you? Tell me some other examples of this phenomenon, either from Spanish to English or vice versa.

No, Gracias—Spanish Foods I Dislike

34 Replies

Guys, I’m pretty obsessed with Spanish cuisine. Nothing gets my goat more than when guiris come here and declare the food to be bland. Oh no you didn’t, I want to shout at them while doing a dramatic z with my pointer finger. Insulting Spanish food is like insulting my suegra: I’m having none of it.

There are so many delicious things here, and they are not all terrible for you (another stupid myth!):

lentejas (lentil stew, a.k.a. the bomb)

cocido (healthy if you stay away from the tocino, a.k.a. fat)

patatas a la importancia (eat this today if you know what’s good for you)

And of course my favorites: cheese, wine (remind me to tell you my favorite wines from Toro later!), chorizo, and salchichón! My in-laws make the last two, and if you haven’t had them … well, you haven’t had good chorizo or salchichón! It’s just the facts.

Buuuuut, let’s be real, there are some foods I don’t like. Yeah. It’s true. It’s true, and I said it. Not all Spanish food is to my liking. What are these foods, you ask? Why, let me tell you.

Pulpo. Nope, I don’t like octopus and don’t tell me that I should, because the chewy texture just skeeves me out.

Morro, oreja, callos. Not into organ meat, and I’m even less into eating pig’s snout. Oreja is really chewy and just thinking about it can give me the heebie jeebies. (I hope all Spaniards reading this are learning some new “words” today.)

Torreznos. What are they? They’re pieces of pig fat cut into strips and fried. Yum? Add to this varied fritanga, because it is way too fatty for my liking. Eating probably takes five days off my life.

Flan. Not into that jiggling mess of a dessert.

Aceitadas. Sadly, this is a typical dessert in Zamora, my favorite city in Spain, but I just don’t dig anise.

[Source]
Aguardiente. Not a food, but this liquor sets my insides on fire and tastes vile.

Which foods do you dislike in Spain? And if you say salchichón, I may cry. Tears of happiness. Because there’s more for me!

The Foreigner at the Table

17 Replies

I’ve eaten many a meal with Mario’s family. His friends, too. But it wasn’t until recently that his cousin pointed out to me that, well, I eat funny. No, no, my chewing habits are just fine, thanks. But what’s up with your hand?

Think long and hard about what you do with your hands while you eat. Inspired by this post about Spaniards’ eating habits, I came up with my own list of the way Spaniards find us guiris weird at the dinner table:

You eat with your left hand on your lap.
You cut your meat and then switch the fork to the other hand. And then you put your left hand back on your lap. Why do we do this? I did a little research, and it seems there are two styles to eating, “American” and “Continental” style. Forbes calls our style of eating the “Switch and Switch” style. Apparently, the Continental Style came about from wanting to be unthreatening at the dinner table. You know, if you put your hand in your lap, it could be because you have some sort of weapon hidden there.
You don’t eat fruit after meals. A very common practice in Spain, this one. In some families, fruit is the dessert, although there’s no way this would fly with Mario’s family. We have a theory that the goloso gene is there, but it’s diluted for every generation. Mario’s grandmother used to put sugar on her salad. Yeah, you read that right. Mario’s dad cannot pass up dessert for anything. Mario is goloso, but not nearly as much. Maybe our kids won’t even like dessert? That’s yet to be seen. But fruit? Always. It can be as simple as apple (make sure you peel it!). It can be a fruit salad (macedonia), strawberries with milk (a lite alternative to strawberries and cream), or even compota de manzana, but fruit is essential.
You eat things really hot or really cold. This could be just a family thing, and I tend to think it is because my husband’s aunt likes her food steaming hot. But what is with these people and lukewarm soups? My father-in-law somehow even manages to enjoy room-temperature coffee, and I just can’t. Nope. However, keep in mind I grew up with a father who refused to eat things that weren’t nearly boiling hot. This same man put his chocolate candy bars and Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies into the freezer.
You don’t use bread para empujar. I do love bread. Yes, yes, I do-ooooo. But before I came to Spain I never used it to push food onto my fork. But gosh, does this make sense. Salad eating is so much easier now. Thanks, Spain!
You don’t watch TV while you eat. When I was growing up, watching TV while eating was not the thing to do. It was usually a sign that you had nothing to say and that you were bored with the company. Now, Mario’s family won’t have it on if there are guests at the house, but with just the family? You bet. It’s usually The Simpsons on Antena 3, followed by the news. Such cheerful mealtimes we have with all the doom and gloom.

You don’t drink coffee after your meal. Okay, this is not the most universal of all my rules, but it still counts. Coffee is very often drunk after the meal. My Spanish family drinks it right in the glass, which I found odd at first, but they soon adapted to bringing me a nice mug. Mario has decided to mess this rule up for me by not drinking coffee at all and preferring tea. He’s a strange one.
You don’t take a nap afterwards. There is nothing better than eating un buen cocido followed by a half-hour nap. I’m much more of a bed-napping person, but many of my in-laws do it quite well on the couch. My mother- and father-in-law have mastered the eyes-half-shut television-watching position.

So what do you think, are Spaniards weird? Or are we?

Are You Proud of Where You’re From?

36 Replies

I’m from Indiana. And before you start assuming that we’re all bunch of corn-fed, down-home hicks, let me just tell you’re wrong. Flat-out wrong. I’m proud to be a Hoosier. We’re number in basketball. We’re damn nice people. And we know how to react when it snows.

Growing up, everybody wanted to get “out” of Indiana, to travel far away for college, to leave behind what we saw as boring, as nothing, as not worth knowing. Growing up, we were naïve. Far too good we had it, back in my hometown, with teachers who cared, basketball games on Friday nights, and after-school jobs at the local ice cream shop. We grew up in a slice of americana, if you will. Not everyone shares my experience, but a lot of us do. It was a blessed, innocent time in our lives.

So we left. We spread out. Some of us stayed home, some of us left for college around the country, some of us dreamed of leaving but couldn’t. Some of us studied abroad; some of us never came back. But those of us who left have a unique perspective. We know what it’s like to be the foreigner, the different one. We know how it is to defend one’s country, one’s state. Because of this, many of us become (absurdly?) prouder of our home, of our families, of our way of life.

I’m proud to be from Indiana.

In Spain, I’m the American. I’m the one people question when something absurd has happened with our government, when there is a shooting for the umpteenth time, when there is a snowstorm … I represent the States for many of my husband’s family members. It’s a bit like being an ambassador, except the pay is kind of crappy and you don’t get invited to any VIP parties.

There are bad things about the US. But living abroad teaches me to remember the good, to hold it close and cherish it. There are small things I love: smiles on the street, free refills, basketball, tailgating, skyscrapers, tator tots (what?), music. There are the big things: resilience, entrepreneurship, Title IX, universities, the first amendment, natural beauty, diversity, generosity.

I’m proud to be from the US.

In Spain, my adopted home is Zamora. Zamora is beautiful, quiet, full of Romanesque treasures. It’s situated on the Duero River, which is the heart of the city.

Ha sido y es la memoria, la fuerza a veces incontrolada de sus avenidas que todo lo arrasa, los juegos, las aventuras, los amores… la barca y el barquero.
De él llega la niebla, pero también el aliento, esa luz especial relacionada con la vida y el movimiento, que en diálogo con la estática urbe da forma a ese tiempo interno, elíptico de la ciudad, y el aire para respirar y las aves, y los colores.
Él fue la energía que movió el comercio y la industria harinera y a través de él llegan las estaciones, las noticias o las historias ya desarrolladas porque el Duero en Zamora es ya Don.

Zamora, according to Henry IV, was (and is!) a “most noble and most loyal city.”

I’m proud to be an adopted zamorana. And I know many of my husband’s family are proud to be from Zamora.

As proud as I am to be an American, I don’t see that pride from Spaniards about their country. Oh sure, get them talking about their food or their region or their local traditions … they’ll talk your ear off? But Spain in general. You might just hear crickets!

I’m not criticizing. At all. It’s a phenomenon I think that many of we foreigners have noticed. There’s not point in blind patriotism, but the lack of it altogether sometimes bewilders me.

Do you notice more local/regional pride in your part of Spain? Do you have an adopted region?

Literally—A Funny Spanish-Learning Game

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Have you ever stopped to think about strange some things in our language must sound to foreigners? Words are bad enough, but then you get to idioms and place names, and you think … “Gosh, we’re weird!” Don’t worry, though, it’s the same way in every language. The human race is just odd like that I guess!

Mario and I have a game we like to play on the metro. I’m giving it a name today: Literally. Literally is (literally) a very-overused word that drives me crazy when I hear people misusing it. The online webcomic, The Oatmeal, makes a good point:

[Source]

But translating things literally is quite fun. Next time you’re on the metro and bored (always?), give it a shot. Some of my favorites (try to guess the metro stop!):

Sticks of the Frontier
Pink Rivers
Toll
Retreat
Saint Sunday
Footbath
Quiet
Pine Forest of Chamartín
Pine Forest of the King
Clever Girl
Crystal Sea
The Craving (The Whim)
The Latin Woman
Encampment
Connection
The Angel’s Door
The Muses
Park of the Avenues
Field of the Nations
Cross of the Lightning
Peacocks
Three Olive Trees
Court
Four Winds

Go ahead, guess. Which stops are they? Do you have any favorites?

Muletillas—Filler Words in Spanish

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Sometimes we just don’t know what to say. You know? Right? You see what I mean? Okay, I’ll stop. But really, I mean, you understand, yeah? Okay?

Spanish has its share of muletillas, and if you’re going to speak Spanish, it’s essential to learn (and use!) at least a few. Here are some of my favorites.

Vale. Seriously, you must know vale. You simply cannot live in Spain without using it several times a day. (If you talk on the phone, multiply by three.) Vale comes from the verb valer, meaning “to cost, to be worth,” but has come to mean something like “fine” or “right” or—mainly—“okay.” So anytime you feel like saying “Okay,” don’t go with “Está bien,” but “Vale.”
Venga. Another term used a lot in telephone conversations, venga reminds me of when I’m trying to end a conversation without explicitly telling the other person I’d like to end it. “Welppppp,” I’d say sometimes when trying to get off the phone as non-confrontationally as possible. “I’d better let you go.” It’s kind like of that. Of course, it has other uses. It can be used to try to get someone to hurry up: “Venga, que llegamos tarde” (“Come one, we’re going to be late”) or to express incredulity: “¡Venga ya! No me lo creo” (Yeah, right! I don’t believe it”).
Bueno, pues. These two words can be used together or separately. Bueno usually means good, but in this context it’s more like “well,” as in, “Well, we better get going” and not as in “I’m doing well.” Pues is an especially versatile word. See the WordReference entry, which lists the following possibilities (among many):

Pues eso—Right
Así pues—So then
Pues entonces—In that case
Bueno pues—Okay then
Vaya pues—All right already

O sea. This is better pronounced as one word, osea. It’s kind of like “or rather,” but it has a life all its own. It is equivalent to “digo” and “quiero decir” in many cases. If you understand Spanish, please refer to this entry by a one Mr. Alberto Bustos.
A ver. I love this phrase! I first heard it when studying abroad. It means something like “let’s see” or “let me see,” and you can use it alone or with other words. For instance, if you want to meet up with someone, you might say, “A ver si quedamos un día” (“Let’s see if we can meet up one day”). If you’re trying on a new dress, you could say, “A ver cómo me queda” (“Let’s see how it looks on me”). It’s quite the versatile phrase.

What are you favorite (or least favorite) filler words in Spanish?

“English” Words Spaniards Use

52 Replies

It’s natural that languages adapt words. English wouldn’t be what it is without the myriad of words we’ve borrowed from other languages, most notably French. English has become a very influential language, especially in the areas of technology. It makes a lot of sense to use words like “smartphone,” “Internet,” “click,” and many more. These words have the same meaning in Spanish as in English. However, during my years in Spain I’ve come to realize there are several which have very different denotations in Spanish than in English. Obviously, I love them and need to share them with you. Here are some of my favorites.

Zapping. Nothing to do with shocking anyone with rays of electricity. Nope, this is your basic channel surfing. In Spain as well as in the US, men are especially gifted at this practice.

[Source]

Footing. Meaning: to go jogging, to go for a run, as Spain’s former prime minister is showing us in the above picture.
Panty. (Also known as pantimedias.) My mother-in-law asked me if I needed one of these for a wedding. I was rather surprised to hear the question, as I associate panty with panties—you know, underwear. Nope, un panty is just a pair of pantyhose that also cover you up to the waist. You know, the normal kind, or at least what I considered to be normal. Medias, the word I use, can also mean the kind that only go up to your thighs, so be forewarned, ladies.
Body. Similar to the panty, un body covers even higher up.
Top. A top is an article of clothing for women that has no sleeves or straps, but I’m pretty unsure on this. If you go into any Mango store, you’ll see a section for tops. Maybe my readers can help clarify if this is true!
Jersey. When I learned Spanish in high school, I learned to say “sweater’” as suéter, a term obviously derived from English. I was very surprised when I came to Spain and learned that the term here is jersey. For me, jersey is the shirt athletes wear, whether it be in basketball, soccer, or football.

Smoking. This is so funny to me. We do indeed have a smoking jacket, also called “black tie,” so it makes sense that Spaniards call this un smoking, which is alternately spelled un esmoquin.
Parking. This is close to the original English meaning, but you’d have to add “lot” for it to make any sense. “A parking” without “lot” is meaningless to me. After all, it could be a “parking space” or a “parking spot” just as easily.

[Source]

Crack. A crack has nothing to do with with our definition of “a slight opening, as between boards in a floor or a wall.” Nope, crack in Spain Spanish usually means a really great athlete. For example, Rafa Nadal or Lionel Messi or Cristiano Ronaldo. Personally, I’ll go with my favorite, Victor Oladipo.
Heavy. This has nothing to do with weight. No, a heavy in Spain is a word derived from the music genre of heavy metal. Un heavy listens to heavy-metal music, and lots of it. Some “tips” for being heavy, according to this website, include wearing one’s hair long, wearing spiked bracelets, and saying things like, “Mi rollo es rock.”
Freaky. Usually spelled friki, it means freak. Yes, it is very close to the English “freak,” but I love that in English this word would be an adjective, whereas here it’s turned into a noun. In 2012, the Royal Spanish Academy which is responsible for regulating the use of the Spanish language, added the word to its latest dictionary edition. If you understand Spanish, I recommend checking out the Wikipedia entry for this term, as it delves into the different levels of “frikismo,” among other things.

What other “English” words have you seen being used here in Spain or in other countries?

Literal Translation

19 Replies

First of all, I know: it’s been a while. I don’t have any excuses, really; life just got the better of me!

Literal translation is almost never a good idea. Plus, it can sound pretty awkward. Take one of my favorite Spanish expressions, “¡Eres la leche!” Literally, it would be, “You are the milk!” Um, thanks?! There’s gotta be a better way of going about it. Of course there is.

I bought a new book this past feel in my quest to (someday, one day) take the DELE. The DELE is an exam which tests one’s “degree of fluency in the Spanish language” and is “issued and recognised by the Ministry of Education, Culture and Sport of Spain.” (For further information, check out my friend Cat’s informative post on the subject.)

Anywho, the book I bought is called Hablar por los codos: Frases para un español cotidiano by Gordana de Vranic. The book gathers together 175 frequently-used colloquial expressions and idioms that they say are imprescindibles for daily communication. I’m not so sure about daily, but it’s certainly nice to expand one’s knowledge.

Here are some of my favorites:

Source

Dar gato por liebre.

Literally: “to give a cat instead of a hare.”
Meaning: “to deceive someone, especially in a business transaction, selling him/her something different than requested, usually of lower quality.”
Use it: “No vayas a esa tienda. Ayer me dieron gato por liebre. Me vendieron una cosa que ya se había estropeado.”
Origin: Many years ago, it was normal to sell cats instead of rabbits/hares because their meat was so alike that even those most knowledgeable about meat were not able to distinguish between the two.

Source

El mundo es un pañuelo.

Literally: “the world is a scarf.”
Meaning: “it’s a small world (after all).”
Use it: “Cuando estaba estudiando en Canadá, me encontré con mi antigua compañera de la universidad. Ahora vive en Madrid, pero se había ido de vacaciones a Toronto. ¡El mundo es un pañuelo!”

Source

Hay cuatro gatos.

Literally: “there are four cats.”
Meaning: “there aren’t very many people in a certain place.”
Use it: “Ayer en el bar había cuatro gatos.”

Source

Írsele el santo al cielo.

Literally: “the saint goes up to heaven [on someone].”
Meaning: “get confused, forget what one was talking about or what one had to do.”
Use it: “Estaba hablando con Teresa y se me fue el santo al cielo. No me acordaba de lo que quería decirle.”
Origin: It’s possible that it has to do with a priest who started talking about earthly things because he forgot about what saint and for what purpose he had begun speaking.

Source

Pasar la noche en blanco.

Literally: “to spend the night in white.”
Meaning: “to not sleep all night” / “to not sleep a wink.”
Use it: “Estaba estudiando y pasé la noche en blanco. Todavía estoy cansado.”
Origin: In some chivalric orders, new members, before being knighted, spent the night awake with their weapons, dressed in white robes to symbolize purity.

Source

Quemarse las pestañas.

Literally: “to burn one’s eyelashes.”
Meaning: “to study or read a lot.”
Use it: “Hay que quemarse las pestañas para aprobar el examen de lengua.”
Origin: This is an expression that was used in the past when referring to studying or reading at night and it meant that, as a person would read by the light of a candle, he/she might burn his/her hair, eyelashes, or eyebrows by getting too close to the flame.

What are your favorite Spanish (or English!) idioms/phrases?

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Kaley…& Más

Category Archives: spanish

Why Do We Call José “Pepe”?

Other diminutives of interest:

Which Spanish nicknames do you find the most amusing or interesting?

Why Are You in Spain?

Why are you here?

When 1 Word in English = 3+ in Spanish

Towel

Rag

Bowl

Scarf

To Be

Okay, what about you? Tell me some other examples of this phenomenon, either from Spanish to English or vice versa.

No, Gracias—Spanish Foods I Dislike

Which foods do you dislike in Spain? And if you say salchichón, I may cry. Tears of happiness. Because there’s more for me!

The Foreigner at the Table

So what do you think, are Spaniards weird? Or are we?

Are You Proud of Where You’re From?

Do you notice more local/regional pride in your part of Spain? Do you have an adopted region?

Literally—A Funny Spanish-Learning Game

Go ahead, guess. Which stops are they? Do you have any favorites?

Muletillas—Filler Words in Spanish

What are you favorite (or least favorite) filler words in Spanish?

“English” Words Spaniards Use

What other “English” words have you seen being used here in Spain or in other countries?

Literal Translation

Follow “Kaley...& Más”