Can You Speak Up, Please?

When I was growing up I was taught (at school, mostly) that to have a conversation with someone I should not yell. I was told to keep my voice down because there was no need for the entire class to know what I was talking about with my friend at recess. That a normal tone of conversation was one in which the only one with the need to hear you was the person you were talking with. That was in American society. Not Spanish.

We live on the outskirts of a village in a free standing house within its own property. Down the road in one direction is a house, and down the other direction is another house. Far enough to mute noises. Some days you can hear the neighbors having a normal conversation. Normal to them. To me it sounds like a shouting match, though they're not talking angrily. Sometimes I find out more about our neighbors' lives just by listening from our garden than if I were to ask them directly. And when anyone is out in the fields behind our house it's more of the same. It's almost as if they felt entirely alone. Or as if they thought everyone was deaf.

In restaurants and bars the normal level of sound reminds me of my high school cafeteria at lunch time. To talk with the person next to you you have to raise your voice to be heard. A romantic dinner? With the sound of conversation so high you almost can't hear the clink of forks and knives? Even at an open-air event, like a market, there are no private conversations. There seems to be a consensus that no one has anything to hide, therefore they can talk for everyone to hear. Most people seem suspicious of a person who whispers. Perhaps that comes from the past, when secrets could send you to prison where you could disappear. Even after over forty years of democracy, the past is too ingrown and will take many more years to loosen its grip. Spaniards have always been leery of giving authority any reason for suspicion. 

Want to watch a talk show? Turn down the volume and get ready to not understand a word anyone is saying. All the guests will want to talk at once and to be heard above the others, including the moderator. The only talk shows you can actually understand are the interviews, when it's one on one. A candidate's debate? To begin with, debating is not common in Spain. Arguments are not refuted with data and reasoning, they're shouted down with "I'm right and you're an idiot" type of comments. On the few occasions an incumbent deigns to debate (and run the risk of losing) the debate will turn into a shouting match that sounds as if the debaters were arguing over a parking space. 

Another occasion to learn all about the person next to you is when they're talking on the phone. It doesn't matter how loud they're talking to begin with, as soon as they answer the phone their voice goes up a notch. My husband is one of the offenders. Even our daughter says to him he doesn't have to shout so loudly. He's not aware he's shouting. He thinks he's talking in a normal tone of voice, which is loud to begin with. Whenever I go for a walk in a town, I will hear people around me commenting on who is supposed to pick someone up, who should be home by now, what time they're getting together for supper, and why someone is so stuck up. I end up knowing a lot about perfect strangers. A psychologist would have a field day.

I relish silence. I love to be in silence, on my own at home in the middle of the day. My thoughts quietly roam through my head, and if the windows are shut I don't need to hear my neighbors, either. Who are about to go on a trip to a spa, from what I've heard this morning.