Oscar Rodriguez

Órale, maquina is the featured Caló word of this week. We talked about it in a previous episode as one of many derivatives of the term a la madre. It’s used to exclaim maximum astonishment, wonder or disbelief. It’s what you say when you’ve reached the end of your known reality and have no words to convey it. All there is from that point on is a primal utterance or scream. You see a vast spaceship suddenly rise out of the horizon? Maquina!

Órale, the featured word of this week of Caló is manchar. In modern Spanish it means to stain. In Caló, it means to denigrate, deprecated or slight oneself, which is an unsightly, possibly even traumatizing event to witness. People can put a mancha on themselves without intending it. They can be merely stupid or venal about it, maybe even think they got away with something. But the people who witness their act walk away, perhaps silently, thinking less of them. A vendor short-changes you: manchada. You forget your date’s name, manchada. Caught cheating or in a lie, manchada.

Órale, Caló this month is gonna about the “road of shame,” a street that runs parallel to and a short block away from the highway leading through town. The street got its name when the county government moved the jail from downtown to this highway just beyond the Southside, forcing many newly released detainees to undertake a long and public walk home. Until then, the raza who got out of jail walked home undistinguished from anybody else walking about in town. The north and east sides of town, where the higher valued homes sat, were never considered for the site of the new jail. The decision-makers quickly picked the Southside because they believed, as was said repeatedly in public hearings, “that’s where the jail’s customers come from.” What they didn’t think through was that, with the jail so close by, Southsiders didn’t have to walk far to get home, and the only ones who faced a long shameful walk home were non-Southsiders.Llevarse is the featured word this week. It’s Spanish for to take oneself, as in, “I take myself seriously.” In Caló, it means to grant or be granted permission to joke with somebody. Two individuals who tease each other—even to their limits—are said to be llevandose. And each would say that they se la llevan with the other.

Órale, the featured word of this episode is levantar. It’s a verb in modern Spanish that means to pick up. In Caló, it means pick up the pace or attract sexual attention, male or female. The general image behind both is the picking up of feet. A comparable expression in English is a “pick up.” A fifty-something prances through a dance hall and turns heads, and people will say she or he still las levanta. They’ll say this because they can both pick up their feet and people are attracted to them.

Órale, the feature of this episode is the word nambe. It’s a contraction of the modern Spanish words, no and hombre, as in “no, hombre.” There’s an equal expression in English, “no, man.” In Caló, it’s used to emphasize a contradiction. You think she’s gonna win. Nambe¸ no chance.

Órale, the feature of this episode, is the expression hacer rancho. It means make ranch or space in modern Spanish. In Caló, hacer rancho describes a situation or person that has gotten so out of control they’ve taken over control. You invite a vato to stay at your chante, and he takes over the place as if it were his? He hizo (made) rancho.

Órale, we’re gonna continue with the susto theme. The Calo word for this episode is a nuance of a term we introduced in the past, con safos. It’s a preemptive, protective susto, but it can also be a way to say that the bad wish directed at you isn’t having its intended effect.

Órale, for this episode of the story of how the piole rescued Salomón, were gonna feature the term rollo, which is pronounced royo. In modern Spanish it means a roll or script. In Caló, it means a scripted line, a practiced narrative of why something happened, or a prepared speech read from a sheet of paper. There’s nothing extemporaneous or self-exposing about a rollo. It’s full of guile and purpose and meant to convince or dissuade. You don’t say I love you with a rollo. You say a rollo to convince someone to love you. This is not to say that rollos are not to be trusted. Sometimes they’re a call to steer you to safe harbor in storm.

Órale, for this episode of Caló, we’re gonna feature the expression le salió cola. In modern Spanish it means it sprung a tail. Nothing special. But in Caló, le salió cola means the situation became more complicated or difficult than expected— a surprise sudden turn for worse. You thought you could handle it, but then things got out of hand? Te salió cola, ese.

Órale, the feature of this episode is susto. In modern Spanish is means a fright. In Caló, it means a spell. The victim is the sustado. Now, in the world of Caló, many things pass as a spell, but nobody thinks it’s possible to casts sustos so fantastical that people are tuned into frogs. It is thought, however, that everybody tries to cast sustos of some kind, but not everybody can. And among those who can, there are some who are better than others. Also sometimes a susto comes from beyond the horizon, seemingly out of nowhere. Then there are the timeless sustos that are ever present in the barrio and land on a sustado only when conditions allow, maybe once a generation or two.