Things aren't going well in Spain at the moment. The media is full of stories of finacial disater as disgraced rich gits plunder pension funds and flee. Spanish local government, having recently discovered fianacial cutbacks, is trying desperately to make up for lost time by slashing services left right and centre as they jack up local taxes. Spain is still far from being a poor country though and seeing so much bin rummaging in such a short time was a little disconcerting.
If I lived in the Arctic Circle and had to chew seal skins to be useful my teeth would be down to the stumps by now and I'd be out on the ice. Yesterday another one crumbled at the edges so I popped into a dentist that has recently opened up near work to arrange an appointment. My Spanish, as it so often does, caused some minor delay in transacting business but as soon as I'd turned "I have broken a tooth" into "A tooth has broken itself," we were in business and I was given a smart little appointment card. Later, reading the card, I realised that the place wasn't your common or garden dentist but one of those places where they rebuild shattered jaws or give you a set of flm star teeth.
Fearing that I'd got the wrong sort of place and that my mistake may seriously damage my wallet I went back. Disconcertingly, they remembered me by name. "I think I may have mad a a terrible mistake," I said, "This isn't a standard dentist is it?- I was just after a filling not a Tom Cruise smile." The woman holding an ice pack to the side of her face guffawed, winced and then told me off for making her laugh. The receptionist, addressing me as Kristofer yet again, assured me that they did ordinary dentistry too. I noticed the reception area included a Zen like fountain with shiny pebbles and trickling water. The staff were wearing tailored and colour co-ordinated outfits based on medical scrubs.
Scavenging and cosmetic dentistry. Odd world.