In the midst of the tiresome debate about the name and the unity of our language (will it never end?) It's common that, when someone says "Menorcan yes, Catalan no," someone else asks why the same isn't said of Castilian Spanish. In Extremadura, in the Pampas, or on the streets of Mexico City, it's often said that everyone understands they speak the same language, regardless of the variations in vocabulary, phonetics, intonation, and syntax. So why isn't the same criterion applied to Catalan? And it turns out that, indeed, among Castilian speakers there have also been attempts at linguistic secession, which are quite entertaining.

Catalan continues to lose ground in the Balearic Islands' restaurants, and more and more bars and restaurants either don't have menus in Catalan or have them riddled with spelling mistakes. A recent example is a bar in Mallorca where a literal translation was used for the menu, resulting in errors such as "Copa vino la casa" (house wine glass), a term commonly used to refer to the wine the establishment offers that isn't from major brands or well-known labels. This case was reported on social media by the Instagram profile [name of Instagram profile missing]. @mallorcaviralThe comments on the post came pouring in. "We'll see things," one user remarked, referring to the large number of spelling mistakes and poor translations found on restaurant menus in the Balearic Islands.

Murense, Ferriolense, Poblense, Margaritense, Serverense... even RCD Mallorca and Atlético Baleares. There are countless football teams in the Balearic Islands whose names are in Spanish and which have not been standardized. This legacy of Francoism is still alive today, and the possibility of breaking with the memories of the dictatorship (during which Catalan was completely forbiddenThe effort to recover the essence of teams from municipalities with Catalan-speaking and historical roots is practically nonexistent.

They received between €30,000 and €80,000 in public funds from various Balearic institutions for the 2024 editions, and yet the presence of Catalan on their social media, websites, and official media outlets was either anecdotal or nonexistent. We're talking about festivals such as the Evolution Mallorca International Film Festival, which will celebrate its fourteenth edition in Palma next October, the CAN Ibiza Art Fair, and the Paco de Lucía Mallorca Festival, all of which benefited from grants such as those offered by the Institute of Balearic Studies (IEB) for the organization of these events. However, the predominant language in all of their communication channels was Spanish, followed by English.

My relationship with Catalan hasn't been constant, nor, much less, monogamous or exclusive. On many occasions, I've betrayed it and even treated it as a second fiddle. I can't say I've always been aware of this, which also entails a certain degree of responsibility. My mother tongue—and the only one I've used to socialize for many years—has been Spanish. This could be attributed to the fact that I come from a semi-foreign family (so to speak), if our linguistic reality were different and we didn't have to demand somewhat more compelling excuses. With Mallorcan patriarchs—one from Portocristo and the other from Palma—and Iberian matriarchs—one from Extremadura and the other from Galicia—both my mother's and father's families wove most of their universe in Spanish.