Bathroom Linguistics

One of the most entertaining ways to improve your Spanish at the University of Granada is studying the graffiti on the bathroom walls. I wonder if there is a single culture in the world that doesn’t write encouraging, disturbing, or simply profane messages to each other via a toilet stall? 

Sometimes the notes that girls write to each other are uplifting and cheerful: “Vine a España de Erasmus y encontré el amor de mi vida” (I came to Spain to study abroad and found the love of my life). Although then you start thinking, that’s so great for you and all, but was it so important that you deface this public space while at the same time making us all resent you?

Sometimes the messages present real moral dilemmas, and you may spend more time than you had planned in the stall trying to figure out how to resolve them: “Quiero a mi novio, pero no paro de pensar en otro….me atrae mucho mucho, que hago???” (I love my boyfriend, but I can’t stop thinking about someone else….he attracts me so much, what do I do???). Although luckily for future readers, someone has already taken the liberty to respond with some proper advice: “Fóllatelo y ya está y a seguir con el novio.” (Fuck him and that’s that, and continue with your boyfriend). If only we could all have such a clear moral conscience.

I’ve even learned new vocabulary from the bathroom stalls, although I’ll admit I would have liked to discover the word for “bleach” in a context that didn’t involve such a vulgar sexual reference.

            Then there are those times when it’s like a running dialogue between bathroom users, in which a sort of free therapy service emerges and the entire female university community can benefit. One posts something which she surely views as utterly profound, such as was the case in Stall #2: “In order for long distance relationships to work, you need three things: love, trust, and patience.” (Honestly how do these things occur to people while they’re relieving themselves?) Then another girl responds, acknowledging the previous claim and adding a personal anecdote: “I agree with you on this. In my case, we lacked two out of the three.” A third writer joins in, expressing her condolences that the previous girl’s relationship fell apart, and sharing her fear that hers is heading down the same path. 

Then finally, after you’re either sick from all the overly-corny advice columns or on the verge of peeing again from the outrageously dark humor that some of these girls come up with in the privacy of their own stall, you’re eyes drift to a remote lower corner, where from the looks of it someone (surely in the middle of finals month and at the end of her emotional limits) had enough of the toilet talk: “DEJAD DE DECIR Y ESCRIBIR GILIPOLLECES, TRABAJAD Y ESTUDIAR QUE VUESTROS PADRES SE ROMPEN LA CABEZA TRABAJANDO CONOOOOOO” (STOP SAYING AND WRITING SUCH BULLSHIT, WORK AND STUDY SINCE YOUR PARENTS ARE KILLING THEMSELVES WORKING FUCKKKKKKKKKK!!”

And on that somber note, my bathroom grammar lesson is over.