This week, we’re highlighting another beloved on-air program that is deeply West Texas. Caló is the name of both the show and its subject. Caló is a borderland dialect, and each week on our airwaves, Oscar “El Marfa” Rodriguez teaches us a new Caló word and explores its meaning (or its multiple meanings) with a narrative story. Growing up, Oscar knew many people whose primary language was Caló, which at that time was thought to be a patois of Spanish and English, commonly known as “Spanglish”. It was not until Oscar began researching La Junta history and culture that he learned that Caló came from Romani/Calé, not Spanish or English.
“I had quite an epiphany when I found a Caló-to-Spanish dictionary and saw many of the words and expressions I’d grown up with were actually Romani. Suddenly, a lot of knowledge I thought was mere regional idiosyncrasy came together in a coherent framework. Caló was an actual language, not Spanglish!”
Oscar is a native of the borderlands, with deep roots in the region. He’s a member of the Lipan Apache Tribe, who migrated from the upper Pecos River Valley to the Big Bend beginning in the early 1700s. As a child, he went to school in both Ojinaga and Odessa. Being shuttled back and forth from the Permian Basin to Ojinaga, which natives of that part of the borderlands also call “La Junta,” led him to feel at home on both sides of the border and appreciate the nuances of the language and culture he features on Caló.
“I’m very grateful to Marfa Public Radio for providing this medium to help preserve this colorful language and the cultural experience of the people who speak it. There's a lifetime of material yet to share with the listeners…I recall an experience I once had working as a consultant in Paraguay. Over the course of my time there, I saw Guarani, a receding but constitutionally protected Indigenous language, go from being spoken primarily in small pockets of the population to becoming a cool and must-know language even among the non-Indigenous population. That’s my dream for Caló. That it becomes cool again and everybody in the Permian Basin, where Marfa Public Radio is broadcast, comes to adopt it as their own— as their shared cultural patrimony.”
Órale, this week we’re gonna talk about the word jambar. It means to steal. Unlike other words in Caló that speak to similar acts, trinquetear and remangar, to cheat or trick somebody out of something and to piler or cuff something, jambar is straight ahead graceless, guileless theft. Jambones are sura. They take other people’s valuables. Don’t expect them to give anything back, only that they eventually get what they deserve.
Le jambó everything
The vato walked around in the cold morning all spantado, not knowing where he was going, where his ramfla was or even what he was going to do next. You could say he had lost his soul—that somebody had jambared it. It was like he had been struck down and was only now hearing the pajuelazo.
What did him in so gacho was that one moment he was all machín, and the next he was all desmadrado.
It happened at the bule one night. He walked in expecting all the rucas to come to him because he was so masote. Sure enough some did. But being the mento that he was, he went after the only ruca who wasn’t paying attention to him, a coyota who was dancing with everybody, vatos and rucas, but sitting alone when the band went on break. Sometimes vatos asked her out, and other times she asked them out, and she le ponía to all the rolas, country, oldies, polkas, you name it. It took the vato some time to get to her cuz he couldn’t dance de aquellas.
So after midnight when the band started playing slow songs, which announced their last tanda (set), he le puzo to her table. And she was waiting for him. She pulled him to the middle of the dance floor before he could sit down, and, eeee, he got bailado.
When the tanda ended and they announced last call, the vato ordered tequilas for them. She let him put the shots on the table, but she didn’t even look down at them. Instead, she stood up and took him by the hand.
“Let’s go to the house,” she told him as she dragged him out.
They say the vato left smiling from ear to ear.
When they got to where they were going, a big house in the nice part of town, she led the vato in and let him, on his own, get comfortable, take off his boots and shirt. Simón, hacina. Then all of a sudden she let out a big chiflido, and a big dog came out. Then she told the vato to get out right away. What else could he do? She wasn’t cabuleando. Didn’t even give him a chansa to put on his boots—or even complain. Gacho!
Pos as soon as the vato stepped out, she went out through a side door with a box of things, left the big dog inside, and got in her own pickup.
As she was peeling out of the driveway, le cantó, “hey mamón, it ain’t my house. Better get out of here fast or the jura will think you’re jambando!”
They say that in that box were the vato’s arranque, his pinche masote personality, everything— psst, the mentote himself. And nobody saw that ruca again. I think she was a diabla. Everybody now watches out for her when they go to the bule.
Originally published December 27, 2023. You can read and listen to more episodes of Caló here.
In his first email to the station, pitching a weekly column about Caló, Oscar said to us:
"I grew up speaking this language in Ojinaga and Odessa. It used to be a veritable lingua franca in the barrios and countryside. It wasn't simply Spanglish. It's waning for sure today. But I still hear many of its words circulating. And I occasionally run into people who can carry on a full conversation in it. I've long promised myself I would try to do something about it. This proposal is partial fulfillment of that promise."
We are so glad to have Oscar and Caló be a part of Marfa Public Radio, and to share this unique perspective on and window into border life. If you have an idea for sharing your perspective on West Texas with us, be like Oscar and let us know! You can pitch us your ideas here.
High Five
On Tuesdays from 11AM - 1PM, Primo Carrasco and Tim Johnson bring you the best of norteńo, tejano, and borderlands music on Dos Horas Con Primo. Here's a few tracks from this week's show.
- El Baile Del Gorila - Grupo Massore
- Cuando Calienta el Sol - Luis Miguel
- Prieta Linda- Little Joe Y La Familia
- Tómate una Copa - Javier Solis
- Sin Ti - Pecos River Band
Got a request for next week's show? Give Primo & Tim a call on Tuesdays at (432) 729-4578 to request a tune!
You can find all of our archived music shows on our Mixcloud.
PSAs
The Sul Ross State University Department of Education will host a National Read Aloud celebration on Wednesday, February 5th at the Espino Conference Center on the second floor of the Morgan University Center.
Local families with pre-kindergarten through fourth-grade students are invited to participate and can register for the event through their school. The featured book for the event is My Name is Cool by Antonio Sacre.
Pizza will be served beginning at 5:30pm, followed by a presentation from Sacre and readings by Alpine Mayor Catherine Eaves, SRSU First Lady Lupita Hernandez, Dr. Shanna Moody, and other University faculty, students, and athletes.
Each participating student will be given a copy of Sacre’s book and can join drawings for additional books.
Children must be accompanied by an adult. Older siblings are welcome.
Find more info here.
