“Is der someting wrong frien?”
But since I didn’t understand him very well, I had to ask him to repeat himself, and I asked him:
“Where are you from? You’re not Galician are you?”
He laughed and told me he was Andalusian:
“No, not Galician.”
“From where?” I asked, out of courtesy, aware of how many hours they spend there alone.
“From a real’ small town called Roquetas del Mar in da province of Almeria,” he replied.
I tried to remember, because at that moment I couldn’t quite recall where it was, but it seemed to me that it was in the South so I said:
“You’re kind of far from home.”
“Der’s a funny side to what dey command,” he said in his peculiar accent.
“And what’s that?” I asked him.
“Well, for dat reason, sendin’ me to the other side of the country, der’s nowhere furder away,
