What can I say, I’ve fallen in love 😍
Today’s post is going to be a shorter one, because I am in celebration mode - my friend just got married in quite possibly my new favourite place on Earth, and I’m (both mentally and physically) still here.
(I’m also thinking of starting a series of travel writings that I’m going to call “The Postcards” series, so stay tuned.)
The wedding took place just outside the walled city of Laguardia, which according to Google, belongs to the Rioja Alavesa wine region, and is also part of the Basque Country. Which is intriguing, because the bride gave some of us wedding party guests a brief overview of the Basque people’s tumultuous history, and she was very careful to emphasise that Laguardia is not, in fact, part of Basque Country (due to many historical, cultural, and political factors, that I am not going to go into detail today).
Which is interesting, because she also elaborated that this is a distinction that matters mostly, or only, to Basque people. This distinction is perhaps less important, or of less significance, to the rest of Spain.
Which made me think about the importance of labels, and of words in general.
I find words fascinating, and even more so, the words that make up the English language. I’m sure everyone has heard a non-native English speaker complain about the difficulties in learning the nuances of the English language, whether they are learning to speak, read, or write. (I find the irregular verbs of the Romance languages and Russian equally difficult to learn, personally.)
Tone and usage of the same word can mean so many different things. The Brits, in particular, are experts at passive aggressively telling you to fuck off extremely politely. One of my favourite profiles on IG is by
- and this carousel of “5 British phrases that will confuse the hell out of you” is 💯 accurate.
Words are tricky little things. They can mean everything and nothing at the same time. Words carry a lot of weight, chiefly to the listener or recipient, even when, or especially when, you’ve forgotten what you said to them. Words have the ability to build bridges, or burn them - sometimes, both at the same time.
Take two examples of bridge building/burning that I personally experienced this week.
The bride’s father made a speech at the wedding dinner. A beautiful speech, full of emotion - love, pride, admiration, gratitude. He gave the speech in his native tongue, but very thoughtfully translated it into English and printed it out for all us non-Spanish speakers. Even without the printed translation, the emotion was clear for all to see - there were not many dry eyes left in the crowd.
Bridge building.
On the other hand, a family member of mine (that shall remain unnamed) explicitly banned another family member (that shall also remain unnamed, but we will refer to as S) from their home for an indefinite period of time, due to an extremely minor transgression and a slight only perceived to them. Hostile and offensive words were hurled, feelings and sensibilities were hurt.
Bridge burning.
The bride will forever remember her father’s speech, and the beautiful outpouring of love and emotion, on this her wedding day.
S may forever remember the unkind actions and humiliating words thrown at them.
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.
Lies.
Words can hurt. Words do hurt. Once said, it cannot be unsaid. So be careful of the words you use, whether in your native language or otherwise.