Okay, so Catalans (or at least the Sant Cugat pijo-variety) don’t talk to their neighbors. I can get that. It does go both ways though… if you don’t even say hello to your neighbor, they are probably less likely to be helpful.
So yesterday evening, the doorbell rings and it’s the nanny from next door. (They even make her wear the nanny outfit, which I always thought was a bit demeaning). She was looking really uncomfortable and started stammering:
“Mister Pablo from next door told me to come and ask you to please try to keep the noise of the kids down in the morning until 10am so that they can sleep.”
“Why didn’t he come and ask us himself?”
“He was too embarrassed”
So when the kids got at 6:30am today and were running around screaming at their usual volume and dropping heavy objects on the floor, somehow I didn’t feel the urge to tell them to pipe down.
Instead, we decided to take the dishes out the dishwasher with the maximum amount of clinking and clashing.
