Jamie Fehr

To those of you who do know some spanish, you might be a little confused over the title. The first word sé is normally a form of the word saber which means to know, but in this instance I am using the imperative form of the verb ser which means to be. Be Good! quite literally. I’d like to think of it as the spanish command for behave, but I really doubt that that’s correct. How I had really wanted to title this story was with the Plautdietsch expression Pos Ahp! However I really don’t know how it’s spelt but I do know that’s what my parents would’ve told me had this story been about me back when I was a child in Canada.

Last night while I was walking home from work that can only be described as a little crass, but after seeing this type of event take place more than twice I felt it was time to officially document it (don’t worry the story is as family safe as I can make it and if you’re scared don’t read it).

“¡Espera! Espera!” (Wait! Wait!) Cried the little boy to his mother. What? a child in need? I must investigate. Peering down at the side walk to where this call had come from I saw a little boy, not more than four years old, running down the streets with both his pants and his underpants dropped to his ankles.

What???? So far the only place that I have been where it’s normal to see naked little boys running around is the beaches here in Spain during the summer (apparently the thinking around here is why buy your child a swimsuit when they’ll just outgrow it anyway). But it’s mid-to-late November! People are wearing jackets and sweaters and scarves because it’s cold out! Somebody help this kid pull up his pants.

Quickly the child’s mother revealed herself and I thought that everything was under control.

I continue walking. None of my business. I say to myself. But I was intrigued. What on earth caused this little boys pants to fall to his ankles? and why was his mom walking so far ahead of him that she wouldn’t immediately notice something like that? With these questions in mind I stopped and turned and in that moment it all became so very clear. It wasn’t some accident that this little child’s pants were dragging by his ankles he dropped because he needed to go to the bathroom and was following the example of all the other spanish men I have seen relieve themselves without discretion.

So there he was, this small spanish boy, standing in front of the smallest sapling in the boulevard, buttocks in full view of all pedestrians and motorists in the area with his mother standing idly by as he waters the local greenery. I walk away.

Should I take a picture? The question entered my mind. Will people believe me when I say that public urination among men is a learned childhood behavior here in Spain without a picture? I didn’t know. I kept walking. The moment is so priceless and nearly over, I need to take a picture. Yet still I walked. Would it offend his mother if I get a picture of her son from the backside while he urinates in the street? Probably not, the whole world can see what’s going on right now. I stop and reach into my backpack. Holding the camera I turn to where I last saw this child doing his dirty business, and to my disappointment I was too late. The business was done and pants were back in place, maybe you didn’t want to see a picture of a little boy peeing in the street anyway.

So anyway, the moral I want to share is that Spain or maybe just Andalusia is different in as many ways as you can imagine, and for the record this was the least crass/dirty/digusting/gross public urination story I can tell. It’s unbelievable some of what is considered acceptable around here. Next up, my take on dog poo in the streets. Sorry for the degradation of content you’ve been finding in my site lately.