Oscar Rodriguez

Órale, raza. Cuz there’s been some positive reaction to the topic of toilet seats up or down, we’re gonna do two more episodes about it. The issue’s important and needs to be talked about. Y pos we’re gonna put another pesteta into it to say that the most moral position is also the most elegant.The feature of this episode is bárbaro. In modern Spanish, it means a barbarous person or activity. In Caló, it means outstanding or extraordinary, good or bad. It’s in the same category as eeee, but more pointed. Comparable terms in colloquial English are sick, crazy and bomb, as in that feat was crazy. To be sure, the adjective modifies the onda, not the person causing it. You tell a very funny joke in public that makes everybody crack up? Bárbaro! Someone hands you an outrageous assignment? Bárbaro!

Órale, raza. This is the last episode dedicated to the pinche heavy onda of modern civilized convention regarding the household toilet seat: up or dow—or up. And the word featured word this week is perrada. In modern Spanish is means, pack of or a group of more and one rushing dog. In Caló it means a mobilized pack of beasts, dogs, people and otherwise. When they’re perreando, the individuals that make up the perrada are participating in a mob action. They’re blindly following the lead of the individual in front of them, leading the whole to do what none of its members would have tried on their own. It used to be used to call out a swarm of police, whether in cars or on foot, as in the arrival of a pack of sicced dogs. Today it refers to mob action in general, whether to party, fight or troll a discussion on the internet. What happened that you look all desmadrado, ese? Pos, the perrada came to my chante after bar hours and didn’t leave until sunup.

Órale, the feature of this episode is the expression haciendo males. The literal translation in Spanish is doing bad things, but in Caló it means to be on a rampage or wilding, as in on a campaign to do bad things. You’re said to be haciendo males when it appears you’re intent on doing bad things, not just actually doing them. Kids are doing males when they’re hunting vulnerable mailboxes with a baseball bat on a lonely country.

Órale, the feature word of this episode is currelear. There’s no comparable word in Spanish or English. It’s Romani for the act of trying to get somebody to fall in love with you. In Caló, it’s often mispronounced as “corralear” or corral, as in entrap or fence in, not at all what’s meant with currelear. To currelear is to get your mark to become attracted to you fulsomely, not deceitfully, mistakenly or haphazardly. For you don’t pursue fools or prisoners in a curreleada. You aim to win a committed lifelong friend or romantic partner.

Caló: A Borderland Dialect

Órale, the feature of this episode of Caló is the verb abueyar. It’s based on the Spanish word buey, or ox, but it’s use as a verb in Caló. It invokes the image of a big water buffalo submitting to the whims of its master. A somewhat close term in English is kowtow. In Caló, the general idea conveyed by abueyear is that of a mighty and willful agent accepting its subjugation. The term refers as much to the act of the subjected as to that of its master. It speaks to an unnatural relationship, where a huge and powerful being comes under the control of a smaller, otherwise unlikely master. In this sense, you can’t abueyar a weakling or dependent being that’s already bent toward submission. They’re already owned, like a dog or parrot. Only the indomitable are subject to being abueyados. Nothing else fits the description.

Órale, we’re gonna take on a very vexing topic this month to demonstrate the capabilities of Caló to deal with nuanced philosophical issues; namely, the sharing of a toilet in a mixed household. It’s a fraught question that arises in all Western cultures where males and females share a modern toilet that has a seat. As the seat can be put up or down, some prefer it to be kept up, while others insist that it be kept down. What’s the rule? Is it more conscientious to leave it up or down when you’re done? When questions like these come into the world of Caló, a refuge of resistance against popular culture, they’re submitted to a logical framework of traditional norms and susto-making. You’re expected to abide by what your grandparents did or intuit what the head of the household wants. If you miss it, you’re thought to be either casting a susto or being real gatcho. More than a faux pas, it’s an ethical test, where those who fail it are manchados forever.The feature of this episode is the expression arriendar. In modern Spanish, it means to reign in, as in pull back on the riendas (reigns). In Caló, which has an extensive rural past, arriendar means to halt a charge or forward rush. The image invoked by the expression is that of a galloping steed sat down by its mount after pulling back hard on the reigns. Arriendar speaks to the motion being halted as much as the act of halting it. You don’t arriendar a standing, slow-moving or backward-leaning being or object. You arriendar a hard charging or presumptuous being or an object hurtling forward with a lot of momentum.

Órale, the featured Caló word of this week is gota. In modern Spanish, it means drop, as in a drop of water, and it's the basis for the word for tired, agotado, as in being wrung out like a wet cloth. In Caló, gota, means gasoline or energy. You buy gota, and you say you’re low on it when you’re out of strength or power. “I can’t go further up the mountain, ese. I’ve run out of gota.”

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.