Thoughts on Belonging & the Correct Pronunciation of Juviles

We have just returned from a couple of weeks in Spain.  We enjoyed brilliant weather and the company of good friends.  We consumed wine, beer, and given the region we were in, jamon.  Perhaps a little too much of all of them.  Everyday Manolo drove into the village to supply the best bread in Las Alpujarras, bought and sold from the back of his van.  We spent time in the mountains and one day at the seaside, the outdoor person’s equivalent of surf and turf!  The wildflowers were sensational, as where the butterflies.  In short it was idyllic!

Something surfaced for me while we were there.  It related to how important for me it was to belong in this village community despite being someone whose preference is to be at the points of connection between communities, rather than at the core of one of them.  It is a perpetual superpower, as well as being a life-long challenge!  I am an example of the Groucho Marx character who said ‘I would never want to be part of a club that would accept me!’

The blog, through the link, is a short narrative about this experience followed by a longer piece about the pronunciation of Juviles, a village near to us.  It captures something of our unexpected journey towards property ownership alongside our journey of trying to learn the language.  It was written around 10 years ago and I suspect never shared at that time.  It seemed an opportunity to give it an anniversary airing!!

A slightly weird combination of topics in the title I grant you!  Bear with me and we shall see if there is enough of a connection to justify conjoining them here.

To start with then, my relationship with the experience of belonging. Like everyone, I have a psychological need to feel a sense of belonging in the main areas of my life and for the most part I have been able to feel that I have belonged.  I do have some experience of not belonging being forced upon me by the actions of others but for the most part I am fortunate that in my life the decision as to whether to belong has been mine to make.  Over time I have recognised my tendency to be more comfortable at the edge of groups, often as the point of connection between them and now I accept this is all fine; this is me.

I am also aware that I can be experienced as thinking differently.  A positive spin on this would have people celebrating me as having a different perspective, perhaps being a bit of a maverick, a non-conformist.  A less positive spin might be that I am contrary, favouring the realm of numerous possibilities, rather than acting to bring the best one of them into being.  I know that I love working with people, yet my independence is crucial to me.  I am a team player at work yet social and sporting activities with a strong sense of team have never drawn me in.  Without doubt, I seek occasional solace in something that is familiar, yet my bigger motivation is in engaging with something new and different.  I like to be the centre of attention as well as having solitude to connect with what is going on within me.

The way that all of the above plays out is that I tend not to feel comfortable if I get too embroiled in a community or a group.  I notice I resist using models or processes again and again.  If I were asked to identify as a specialist or a generalist it would be in the latter territory where I would plant my flag.  

When people have asked me what my coaching niche is in the past, they will have actually witnessed me squirming as I resisted creating a label which would assign where I belonged!  Nowadays I have arrived at a niche that I am completely at ease with.  I say ‘I am happy to coach anyone who is happy to be coached by me’.  

Alongside this ‘niche’ I accept the delights and challenges of having a business model built on taking on new and different challenges as often as I can manage.  For me, part of freedom and independence resides in change and difference.  There is little wonder that I see Groucho Marx’s comment ‘I would never want to be part of a club that would accept me!’ as being hugely funny and a pillar of my philosophy!

Given all of the above why is it that when we go on holiday to a small village in Spain, I have a very powerful desire to belong??  Why is it that our differences become a challenge, rather than the source of excitement and wonder they would normally be?

I think this is actually more about wanting to have the option of feeling like we belong.  In my mind I hold the belief that it is vital to develop a common understanding, and to be able to do that you have to be able to communicate.  In short we wish we were able to speak Spanish more fluently than we can.  Despite years of accumulating an extensive Spanish vocabulary, and developing the occasionally useful ability of being able to read a Spanish newspaper, I still fall way short of my expectations of communicating verbally.  Notice I say my expectations.  Before even starting to say anything, I put myself under pressure by second guessing my abilities, undermining my own confidence in doing so.

All this at the same time as knowing that our Spanish neighbours’ expectations of our linguistic abilities are very low indeed!  A consequence is that we meet their expectations when I just do what I can linguistically and make up for the rest in body language and presence!  The truth is we get on very well indeed, thanks to their generosity in welcoming us into their community.  I realise that belonging is made up of something that can be gifted to you by others, alongside something you might have to earn through your own actions.  Perhaps I focus unduly on the latter!

Despite this, I still manage to create an unbreakable connection between linguistic fluency and genuinely belonging.  I use it as a stick to beat myself with which is not a particularly good mindset to support the hard graft necessary to improve my language skills.  The scale of this challenge is told in the story below about our rather long journey towards getting the pronunciation of a single Spanish word correctly.  Before that story are a couple of queries to prompt your own thinking.

• What is your experience of belonging in your current context?

• What action might you take to feel a greater sense of belonging?

• How well do you understand how others might feel about their belonging in the environments that you share?

• What connection are your making that might be holding you back in achieving something that is important to you and what might you do about it?

Pronunciacion por un principiante – como lo dice Juviles (Pronunciation for beginners – how to say Juviles (April 2014)

A yardstick that can be used to measure our understanding of the Alpujarras is one that maps onto our ability to pronounce even the simplest of words.  You would think it should be easy as in many regards the vowel sounds used in Spanish are much easier that English.   Pronounce ‘a’ as in bat not as in mate; ‘e’ as in bet and not as in feed; ‘i’ as in hit but never as in mite; ‘o’ as in hot but not as in mote; and ‘u’ as in moon but not as in mud.  Spanish vowel sounds rarely modify one another.  That is to say, they rarely form diphthongs, which until recently I thought were things you would see in an underwear catalogue.  For example, there is not going to be a situation, as in English where the word ‘tear’ and be pronounced differently to mean either ripping or crying.  Neither will there be the situation where the words tear and tier would have identical pronunciation. 

Great news but there is a rub.  Every vowel sound is pronounced independently.  The linguistic challenge with the monetary unification in mainland Europe had major ramifications.  Up to the point of reunification money was all about pesetas which is an easy word to pronounce with the short and separate vowel sounds.  All of a sudden, the peseta was no more and the euro becomes the unit of currency – try saying that using the vowel sounds noted above.  It is achievable, but only with some fairly ridiculous facial contortions. 

Anyway, back to the point.  On our first journey to the Las Alpujarras we travelled on paths through the high Alpujarra from Mariena to Trevélez via Yegen, Mecina Bombarón, and Bérchules.  One place our route did not take us was a town called Juviles.   An entry level northern European pronunciation of this would be Jew-viles.  This was our start point until we learned of the simplicity of the vowel sounds which led us to believe that a better rendition was Jew-vil-es.

On our second visit to the Alpujarra we discovered the delights of the La Taha, a collection of villages that are on the south facing slopes of the valley above the Rio Trevélez.  We stayed in Mecina Fondales (actually two separate villages) in Cortijo Berenjena owned by Simon and Lorraine who were good hosts.  We went there twice and on the second visit they came around for a quick drink on our last evening.  With an extraordinary commitment they stayed until the last drop our holiday drinks cabinet was consumed, a considerable feat involving a potent combination of beer, wine and spirits.  I have a recollection of 1960s songs being sung acapella at around two in the morning which is something that in our experience is reserved for those occasions where Spanish brandy has been the staple of the evening diet.  

Prior to this we had explored La Taha widely.  Although every village was stunning we liked the small town of Busquístar in particular.  Without knowing it at the time it was the La Taha experience that probably sowed the seeds of our desire to have a more permanent base there.  On this occasion we once again did not get to Juviles.  By now we had approached it from both east and west, but never actually entered the village itself.

During our second visit to La Taha we made an effort to get to Juviles.  By now we had some more understanding of the language. In particular the need to put an emphasis on the appropriate syllable of each word.  This is actually more important than pronunciation when getting yourself understood and, of course, has not direct equivalent in spoken English.  The general rules are that (a) any word ending in a vowel or an ‘n’ or ‘s’ has an the emphasis placed on the penultimate syllable (b) a word ending with any other letter would have the emphasis on final syllable and (c) an accent over a letter tells where the emphasis must be if it breaks either of rules (a) and (b) (the accent in Spanish has nothing to do with altering pronunciation).   So, for example Andalucía is in fact Anda-luc-ía and Nieles is actually Niel-es.  So now we thought that Juviles would be Jew-vi-les.  Progress?

When I say we made an effort to go there it is worth noting that in fact it was only about 6 km from our base in the La Taha as the crow flies but it was more like 40km along mountain roads to actually drive there.  No big deal but we were very much into walking everywhere which explained why Juviles has not featured as a priority before.  When we did get there it was very much a place to park and to be the point of departure and return of a walk that was to turn out to be one that would have a big influence on our future. 

Our route, as usual was a very demanding one, and saw us descend from Juviles towards one of the mercury mines that were active until the 1950s.  They still have the long conduction tunnels and chimneys in which mercury vapour was condensed back to liquid form as part of the process of releasing it from its natural ore.  The path went steeply down via an area of cliffs called Los Gigantes.  On arrival at the first mine we also found the cemetery for the small village of Timar.  We both hoped that the co-location of the mines with the cemetery was not significant although extraction of mercury cannot have been the safest job in the world.  

We then progressed into Timar, a hamlet that felt almost deserted, and took a fantastic path down further to Lobras which was spectacular every step of the way.   The walk from Lobras to Nieles was notable because of the fantastic views, firstly back to Timar and then, very occasionally, a sighting of Juviles that for all the world looked like it was hanging  in the air above Timar.  If you have read Philip Pullman’s Dark Materials trilogy you will know of his evocation of other worlds that hung in the sky.  Juviles was one such, and the impact is occasionally enhanced when Juviles appears above a cloud hovering on the hillsides immediately above Timar.

The next surprise was rounding a corner to be presented with a full-on view of Nieles, apparently within touching distance but in fact separated from us by a 500 foot drop to the valley floor.  The views of the whitewashed villages in this area were somehow more immediate than in the Taha and more spectacular for it. 

A view that captivates us in Las Alpujarras. An era in the middle of picture is a fixture in every village, and in the more remote areas, every farm. It is always in an exposed location as it was used as a place to thresh the corn, calling on the wind to blow away the chaff. As a consequence they always on breezy outcrops and typically come with spectacular views!

We both fell in love with the area on that day but did not appreciate the seriousness of the relationship!  The beauty of the environment was certainly a powerful influence but there is something of an atmosphere in Las Alpujarras that implies tolerance, inclusivity and care for others.  Given the history of the country this is going to seem a little naïve yet it was a sense we both had.

The architecture reflects the Moorish influence of the Muslim rulers of Southern Spain who, in their final days, were confined to the Las Alpujarras before eventually being expelled from the country.  The architecture of the area is a testament to the Moors and their impact on the communities was noted, and remains celebrated, by the Catholics that replaced them.   From the Mezquita in Córdoba, the biggest indoor venue for worship in the world, reflecting the Muslim dominance, and the quality of their craftsmanship.

One Spanish king committed the folly of building a full scale cathedral within the mosque in Córdoba.  He did have the good taste to recognise, albeit after the event, that he had defiled a truly remarkable building with his efforts to impose a Christian architecture on it.

More locally to us the church in Castarás has a roof that was built courtesy of techniques developed by the Moors and shared with the less advanced European population of Andalucía. It is clear that even at the time of the expulsion of the Moors, there was an appreciation of the impact they had on the area.   There was a requirement, a royal decree that two Moorish families had to remain in each Alpujarran village to ensure that continuity of the irrigation system that they had developed.   It might be fanciful to think it but this background in both Muslim and Christian faiths from several centuries ago still has echoes today: definitely in the look of the place and also in the way they live their lives.

Anyway, the walk finished with a return to the village of Timar and a different ascent this time via a beautiful valley under the shadow of a mountain called El Fuerte.  We returned to Juviles without having the breath to worry about pronunciation of the village name but with memories of a landscape that will remain with us for as long as we can remember.

Having found out about this area we wanted to base ourselves there on our next visit and were fortunate to find Cortijo Chocolate in Nieles, a self catered farmhouse owned by Jeff and Sallie.  This lovely little cottage allowed us to explore the area more thoroughly taking in walks around all the villages we first discovered but also to find Castarás, Notaez, Almejígar and Torvizcón.  We found routes back into the Taha valley and into our old favourite Busquístar too, so were much pleased with our new found base camp.  It was probably during this time that we learned two important pronunciations that helped with the correct naming of Juviles.  We also realised that we were way off the mark with our pronunciation when we got a bus from Trevélez to Juviles and drew a complete blank for the driver with our, at the time, best rendition of Jew-vi-les.

What we had not known, or failed to apply, was the fact that ‘v’ in Spanish is pronounced as a soft ‘b’.  If you find yourself putting your lower teeth to your upper lip when pronouncing a ‘v’ it is going to go badly for you!  You can also have a giggle at Spanish visitors as they try and say ‘very’ and achieve ‘berry’ instead.   They do not have the mouth machinery to make a ‘v’ sound!  So now we have Jew-bi-les. 

Next is how to deal with the letter ‘j’ – a challenge in many languages.  We were always making the mistake of doing the throat clearing sound necessary to achieve the right sound for the ‘ch’ in loch, or at least the sound that English people do when trying out a Scottish accent!  In fact, the Spanish ‘j’ is much softer, like the first syllable of ‘hoover’. 

Now we were getting sophisticated with our management of Juviles and could at least make ourselves better understood with Hoo-bi-les.  You might wonder how the letter ‘j’ can masquerade as ‘h’.  The answer is simple – the letter ‘h’ is almost always silent throughout Spain.  I can testify to this after years of being called Dr Inks by my various Spanish and south American tutees.

On our third visit to Cortijo Chocolate we found ourselves walking down the road and both thinking why not look at a place or two.  Derryn had always been avid with her internet research and noted the impact of the fiscal crisis in Spain.  Without knowing it we both needed a distraction from challenges at work and were lucky enough to be able to have a budget to apply to an overseas challenge.  We looked at two places in Nieles and made a fairly low offer on one of them, but still only just within our budget!  Our expectation was that it would be rejected.  We arrived back in the UK to find our offer accepted.  Three months later, after a sale entirely conducted by email, we found ourselves with the keys to a delightful little house and a sense of wondering how exactly this had happened to us!

It was on our first return as property owners that we learned of a final linguistic tic, more local in nature than some of the other difficulties we had encountered.   Andalucian’s (a word you will not find in Spain as they do not use the apostrophe ‘s’ to indicate possession), do not pronounce either ‘s’ or ‘d’, particularly irritating in that these are letters that often start or finish words and can be picked our relatively easily by the learner’s ear.  And so it is that by applying this last piece of intelligence to the proper naming of Juviles – it is Hoo-bi-le.  Now, as I am sure you have been paying attention, you have nearly all the information you need to give a proper rendition of Busquístar.  Go figure!

So, there you have it from Jewviles to Hoo-bi-le, and from holidaymakers to property owners in the same time frame.  I remain unsure as to whether this reflects our linguistic ability or our decisiveness.  I prefer the latter, yet I fear the former is better illustrated in this parable.