Ask a Brit where they are from, and they will give you the name of the town where they were born – sometimes they will tell you where their family originally came from.
These will often be two different places.
I am from Manchester – I was born in Crumpsall Hospital – now called North Manchester Hospital.
I will often qualify that by adding that my family roots are from Rochdale – as if that somehow makes a difference.
Ask a Spaniard where they are from and their answer is often the reverse. They will tell you the village their family is from first, and then, if required, tell you where they were born – and this may be another part of the country completely.
But they are from their pueblo.
Their roots are firmly fixed in their pueblo.
Ask a Brit what their hometown is like and the most likely response is – it’s a shithole – couldn’t wait to leave.
Ask a Spaniard and you can sit down, order another round of drinks and be treated to the history, culture, culinary specialities, famous sons and daughters, fiestas and ferias – and you will be invited to visit so they can show you around…. a trip is already being planned.
Theirs is a charming sense of pride in the pueblo. There is nowhere better in Spain – and many of the people I speak to have every intention of buying a house in advance of retiring to their pueblo.
It’s where they are known. It’s where they belong.
It’s tied to the strength of the extended family that is still so powerful in Spain despite the geographic mobility and the inevitable gravity that draws the younger generation to the cities.
I suppose it comes down to heritage. Spaniards feel it stronger than the rest of us.
I am quite jealous.
