Posts Tagged ‘librea’

It was a little thing; one short moment in time, but it revealed volumes about the Canarian character.

We were in Tegueste a couple of days before the ‘Librea’ celebrations, which only take place once every three years. The plaza in the town centre was in the final stages of having a makeover to make it look as though the town had time travelled back to the 18th century. The town hall had disappeared and in its place was a full size castle with three small galleons parked in front of it. I know that should read moored, but as Tegueste is situated some miles inland, these galleons were parked.

As we nosied around, the bells of the plaza’s church starting tolling solemnly and a funeral procession made its way up the street towards the church, passing a group of chav lads (gold chains, shell suits, shaven heads and tattoos) who seem to be hanging around the plaza every time we visit.

As the coffin drew level with them, another chav arrived in a souped up Seat Ibiza. Its windows were rolled down and it was blasting out music; the sound of Daddee Yankee shattered the silence in the plaza. And this is when one of the chavs did something completely unexpected. He span around to the new arrival in the car, put a finger to his lips, then made a downward motion with his hands, signalling for his mate to cut the music immediately, which he duly did. Then all of them stood quietly as the procession passed them and entered the church.

Like I said, it was nothing; a simple mark of respect. I tried to imagine the same scenario involving a group of British chavs; somehow I’m not sure it would play out the same way.