Yunez Chaib: "Doing homework with candles is still part of many people's lives"
Comedian and writer
PalmYúnez Chaib, a comedian born in Melilla and raised in Mallorca, has developed her career through wit, sensitivity, and social criticism. We talk about her beginnings at Trampa Teatre in Palma to her rise to popularity on shows like La Resistencia, channels like Comedy Central, and the book she has just published, Corderito (Aguilar, 2026), which she will present on May 16 in Manacor –12 p.m. at Món de Llibres– and on June 5 in Palma.
Now more things have started to appear about you, but until a few days ago I had found little material, and I would say no interviews online, at least in the so-called traditional press. Can we say this is your first interview? Or one of the first (the interview was conducted on May 5)?
— Yes. I haven't done one for many years. It's the first in five years. I quit doing interviews. I don't have much to explain and they all had the same character. Many questions were repeated and I preferred not to do them. I haven't missed it. There are people who like them because, moreover, they give exposure. Now, with the book, I need to do it. I want people to know about it.
I remember some of what must have been your first performances as a comedian in Palma, at Sala Trampa. You already showed promise: you had a nervous style, often with the support of your phone, but above all very sensitive when dealing with humor. It contrasted with what was seen on the Mallorcan underground scene, which often boasted a cruder humor. Does this interpretation make sense?
— There are many types of humor. In my case, I was talking about personal experiences and my own miseries, and that requires more tact than explaining a joke about a news item or about something that doesn't concern you.
How did you end up dedicating yourselves to humor?
— When I was at university I was studying Tourism and didn't have much vocaçión. It was a career that would give me a secure job, but I didn't know if I wanted to dedicate myself to it. I signed up for the Trampa Teatre school as a hobby, just as I signed up for the Official School of Languages, and in that space I connected a lot with comedy, with theatrical writing, improvisation and laughter in general. When I had been going for three years, they started to hold open mic nights and I signed up, as I signed up for everything that was done. That's how my professional vocation began.
You have been moving around stages and have gone from venues with the stickiest floors in Mallorca – no offense intended – to becoming one of the most recognized comedians of your generation. You work on Spanish Television and have even taken your first steps in acting in fiction series such as Mai neva a Ciutat and Doctor Portuondo. How do you experience this change? And fame?
— It's something I think about daily: the luck or fortune I have. But I remain connected to my beginnings. Not long ago I had a performance in Vigo, in a pretty cool theater, and when it ended I went to an open mic at a taco restaurant because the local comedians invited me. It was a space where you performed on a pallet and left the place smelling of Mexican food. I tend to do it from time to time because it connects me a lot with comedy and with comedians who have a lot of passion. It's going great for me, staying connected to that, the roots, although I don't want to romanticize it. It's difficult to live off comedy. I also go just in case, in case things start to go badly or slower for me, to be able to say: "Hey, I've always come to the taqueria" (laughs).
And psychologically, how do you handle fame?
— It has happened gradually. I have been preparing myself for all the phases. The summer before going to TVE, I did think that I would have a lot of exposure and that I had to prepare myself mentally. But then it's about exposure, and once you're there, everything goes smoothly: on the days it goes well, you shouldn't get carried away, and when it goes badly, you shouldn't despair.
— Above all, accept that it's a job, not my entire life. I consider myself a civil servant of comedy: I do my work, write jokes, do my things, but I really separate the work part from my leisure time. When I'm at home, I dedicate myself to planting a bonsai, making sweet rice pudding, reading...
We've already had a couple of Majorcan questions… Do you want to talk about the book?
— Yes, yes, wanting (laughs).
The protagonist, Abde, soon discovers that his name can be an obstacle. Does it stem directly from your life experience?
— The novel is autofiction. It is neither a biography nor an autobiography, but it does have a strong charge of personal experiences, of a boy, son of migrants in 2006, and that connects a lot with my experience. I don't like to talk about it in the first person or refer to the character's parents as if they were my parents, even though there are many similar things. There are experiences that I have lived and others that I have imagined, when I have put myself in the situation. There is a lot of personal charge, but it is not a biography. It is a way of defending myself and distancing myself from the story, even though it remains very close to me.
In the book there is the image of doing homework by candlelight.
— Yes. It's a moment in the protagonist's story. He lives in a house with few economic resources, but I didn't want to write it in a martyring way. I didn't want to fall into morbidity or explain it from sadness. These things happen. It's not a big drama. It happens and that's it; doing homework by candlelight is still part of many people's lives.
Talk about an identity “on the thread”, between two realities. Do you think this is a constant for second-generation migrants?
— I guess for some more and for others less, but this can happen to anyone. For example, to a person who has a very serious job and then a hobby that clashes a lot, like going out to dance bachata. One can be on the thread of different realities, and not just two. I have groups of friends with whom we are very different, and I find it hard to imagine getting them all together because I don't know what I would have to do. It keeps happening to me, and not always on the racial issue, although also, but because of my job. It happens to me when I meet people outside of comedy, people who work in an office or are teachers... But it can also happen to someone who is vegan and has a super carnivorous family. No one is saved.
Humor is a core part of your career. Is it also present in this book?
— It's not a joke book or a book of monologues, but it is a very funny novel, although it doesn't aim to make you laugh. The funny moments appear just as the drama appears.
Does Mallorca appear in the novel?
— I wrote it thinking it happened in Mallorca, but in a subtle way. It's not a character; it's a space through which the protagonists move. We can say there is 'city' in lowercase, but not a City in uppercase. If that makes any sense (laughs).
At some point you said that since you moved to Madrid you have lost a lot of Catalan.
— I speak less Catalan because in Madrid there are fewer people to speak it with. I speak it with my friend Leti or when I call friends from Mallorca. I've lost the habit a bit, and that's why I decided to do more performances in Catalan. In 2025 I did three or four, and in 2026 I already have six or so planned. Besides, I like it because I had stopped doing performances in Catalan. When I perform in Granollers or Vic, for example, people are excited about it.
The book talks about a generation that is from here, but is often perceived as 'outsiders'. Do you think society is changing in this regard?
— There are many people rowing in favor and many others rowing against. It's a complicated moment, but when has it not been? It seems sad to me that the complicated moment never ends.
As we speak, Yúnez is walking down Madrid's Gran Vía. He's going from La Revuelta's offices to the publishing house. At one point he gets distracted and says: "Excuse me, but there's a man putting fake two-euro coins on the ground and then he's going to sit on a bollard to watch people. He's hunting all those who bend down to pick them up".
Can we say you are a benchmark?
— I don't see myself as a role model, but I'm not going to pretend to be falsely humble either: people have told me so. I also have role models, and all of us, at some point, are role models for someone for anything, whether it's bigger or smaller. It doesn't make me feel conceited when someone tells me that. It's a nice word, a detail, and that's it. My job is to be a comedian, not a role model. Yes, from being a comedian, we are role models for someone, then that's great.
My mother always says that "you are not from where you are born, but from where you graze", in the sense that identity ends up being defined by the place where you live and develop. Now that you have left Mallorca and moved to Madrid, will you be the typical person who says that Madrid is the best and starts speaking with a Madrid accent?
— (Laughs). Maybe... it's that the water in Madrid is the best in the world. No, seriously now: since I moved there, four and a half years ago, I haven't drunk tap water. People always talk about Madrid's water, but never about the pipes, which must be 350 years old and they scare me. Maybe I'm wrong, but I keep drinking bottled water, as I used to do in Mallorca.
— They say that anyone who comes to Madrid is from Madrid, but I am aware that I am privileged, that I have a good job and a certain status. Despite that, I still feel like I'm from Mallorca. That's where I want to go on vacation, where I have family and where I see myself in the long term. I'm in Madrid for work.
Do you want to take advantage of this occasion to deny any inaccuracies about yourselves circulating on social media? Or is there something being said that has particularly surprised you?
— This question scared me. I once had a rather tough interview and the answers had nothing to do with what I thought I had said. Is it because of that?
No, no. It was in case you wanted to qualify, something, whatever.
— In reality, there isn't much information about me. I'm lucky that there aren't many statements from me yet, so I can't think of anything because I haven't done interviews. Although, well, if there's any joke that hasn't been liked, you can send it to me and I'll file it.
I will now ask two real questions that have been asked in beauty pageants. I had a lot more, but I didn't want to steal your whole day.
— Don't worry, I'm already late for the publisher, but it's worth it.
What wish would you ask for yourself and not for the whole world?
— I would ask to have a full stomach, because I haven't eaten and I have to go to the publisher. I will get home at five without having eaten. Right now I would have eaten a hamburger.
Second question from the teacher: is woman man's complement?
— No. Period.