SpanishPod101.com Blog

“Sé un caballero,” (Be a gentleman) a father told his little boy the other day, “y cárgale la mochila de la niña” (and carry the little girl’s backpack).

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary,” I responded. “She can carry her own backpack.” And so my stepdaughter and we continued on our way to school.

I also remember when my husband and I went to see our “partera” (midwife). She is a robust woman capable of shaking big babies out of large women. She needed to buy a “garrafón” (jug) of water. So she asked my husband, who’s about half her size, if he could carry it for her. Now our midwife is as much of a feminist as the next woman, but she is also accustomed to letting the men do the heavy-lifting. Later on she laughed about it and also wondered why my poor husband should have to struggle with the “garrafón” when she could lift it and carry it herself.

This same scene is repeated time and time again. The other day in the office a group of women were huddled around a plywood desk, whispering amongst themselves until one of them spotted my husband. There was no escape. He was volunteered to carry the desk to the next room while the five women stood around and watched.

This is when feminism gets a little muddy. On the one hand, men and women (here in Xalapa) are taught that “caballeros” (gentlemen) should open doors and carry “mochilas” and that women are strong and independent but shouldn’t use that strength to carry their own “garrafones”. It’s another take on gender roles I suppose. More on that next time…

A lot of people have asked me general questions about Mexicans like, “What religion are they?” as if they were a homogeneous tribe or “What do they eat?” as though they were specimens under observation, or even seemingly simple things like, “They drive you crazy, don’t they?” Before responding I always wonder, “What do you mean by ‘they’?” So I always start out by saying, “In Xalapa…”

Yet now, I am now in Mérida, Yucatán- a world away from Xalapa, Veracruz. It seems to be the perfect moment to talk about the plurality of Mexican “cultura” (culture), “costumbres” (customs) and “comida” (food).

Let’s take the other day as an example. My “suegra” (mother-in-law) ordered “gorditas”. Now, in Xalapa a “gordita” is a corn tortilla made with a slight edge. It then has black refried beans, salsa and potatoes or any number of toppings added to it. We love “gorditas”.

In la Ciudad del Carmen, Yucatán, what the waiter brought my “suegra” was not the “gorditas” we know and love. It was rather bean and corn “masa” (dough) cooked as a patty and smothered in salsa. Delicious, but different. It’s the same story with “picadas”, “garnachas”, “tamales”, and a number of other foods.

Every place has its own way of preparing food. So what most Americans know to be Mexican food (Tex Mex) has even more variations than one can imagine. Mexican food is much more than tacos and tamales.

Every region in Mexico has its own way of speaking Spanish- its own sayings, regionalisms, lilt and accent. Xalapa and Mérida have very different ways of speaking Spanish. Here’s a look at some of the “modismos” (idioms) that have stuck out to me:

Te presto: This term is hard to get the hang of for most foreigners. “Prestar” is to lend. So, “Me prestas 20 pesos?” means “Can you lend me 20 pesos?” It’s a whole ‘nother tamale in Mérida. Here, “prestar” is more like “to borrow”. So if I say, “Te presto 20 pesos” it really means, “Can I borrow 20 pesos?” Clear as Agua Crystal, right?

Por: In Xalapa, people would say that I live on the street Golondrinas, “entre” (between) Martín Torres and Rebsamen. In Mérida, they would say that I live “por” (which in this case means “around̶ Martín Torres and Rebsamen.

Quitarse: In Xalapa, when you are ready to leave a party, “te vas” (you go). In Mérida, though, “te quitas” (you take yourself away). For example, “Me quité a las cinco” (I left at five).

Separarse: In Xalapa, when you save a place for someone, “lo apartas”. In Mérida, “lo separas” (you separate it). “Te separé un lugar en el café” (I saved you a place in the café).

Ven acá: When my “cuñado” (brother-in-law) first came to Mérida, he was listening to his boss explain the ropes. They were standing next to one another, head to head, when “el jefe” (the boss) said, “Ven acá” (Come here). Rafa didn’t think he could possibly get any closer. Then he realized that “ven acá” means “pay attention”. Note: it’s pronounced “venacá”.

I’m proud to say that the “jarocho” (from Veracruz) influence is everywhere. When we arrived in Playa del Carmen, we stumbled upon a small café called D’Andrade known for its delicious coffee from Coatepec, Veracruz. We dined amid photos of Xalapa and its “alrededores” (surroundings), enjoyed “café veracruzano” and ate “enfrijoladas” and “chilaquiles”.
Last night, while strolling down “La quinta avenida” (5th Avenue), we spotted Spiderman. Next to “El Hombre Araña” was a friend from Xalapa. The same scene has repeated several times since our arrival. ¡”Qué pequeño el mundo!” (What a small world!); ¡Que pequeño es Xalapa! (How small Xalapa is!)

Yesterday we went to Tulum to check out the ruins and the beaches. While standing in line to take the little train to the Visitor’s Center, we heard flute music and light drumming. We looked up to see a large pole and the “Voladores de Papantla” preparing for their show.

Papantla is in northern Veracruz. “Los voladores” (the flyers) are part of the indigenous population. The rite consists of climbing to the top of a large pole or trunk. One man perches at the top of the pole and plays his flute and drum. The other four men prepare their ropes for their upcoming leap. Once everyone is ready, the four men let themselves fall headfirst from the pole and fly around it, “cada vez” (each time) closer to the ground until they pull themselves up and land safely.
Veracruz may not be one of the most well-known areas in Veracruz, but its influence is far reaching.

In the United States, we are very racially sensitive. Given our dark past and turbulent present, racial stereotypes and language weigh heavily on our collective conscience. That’s why a couple other Cri Cri songs made me wiggle uncomfortably in my seat while my husband and kids danced and sang along with what seemed to me to be overt stereotypes. Then I remembered that the US and Mexico are two very different contexts, each with its own past and sensibilities. Our stereotypes do not apply to Mexico’s black population.

Take a look at these songs and see if you understand what I mean:

The title of the song, “Negrito Sandía” (Little Black Watermelon Boy), seemed offensive to me, but then came this verse:

Negrito Sandía, ya no digas picardías
(Negrito Sandía, don’t say any more dirty words)
Negrito Sandía, o te acuso con tu tía,
(Negrito Sandía, or I’ll tell your aunt on you)

y mientras ella te va a agarrar,
(And while she’s gonna get you)
en los cajones he de buscar
(In the drawers I’ll have to look)
una libreta para apuntar
(for a notebook to jot down)
los garrotazos, que te va a dar.
(the beating she’s gonne give you)

Con el palo que utiliza
(With the stick that she uses)
el castigo te horroriza,
(the punishment is terrifying)
y después de la paliza
(and after the beating)
me voy a morir de risa.
(I’ll die laughing).

Then there’s the song, “Negrito Bailarín”, which could also seem immediately offensive. Keep in mind, though, that in Mexico there is nothing wrong with calling someone, “negro” (black) or “moreno” (dark-skinned) or “güero” (light-skinned). The song is about a toy that dances when you pull the string. It seems to have all of the stereotypes that Americans created and have since been working to reverse. Remember that these stereotypes do not belong to Mexican culture. The one stereotype that does correspond to Veracruz’s black population is the way in which the dancing boy talks. Have a look:

Un negrito bailarín
(A little black dancing boy)
de bastón y con bombín,
(With cane and with bowler)
con clavel en el ojal,
(with a carnation in his buttonhole)
pero que se porta mal.
(but how he misbehaves)

Eh, negrito, lo compré
(Hey, negrito, I bought you)
para ver bailar a usté.
(To watch you dance)
perezoso, mueva los pies.
(Lazy, move your feet)…

… Morenito ¡vamo’ a ver
(Morenito we’ll see)
si por fin se anima usté.
(if you finally cheer up)
y nos baila algo de tap!
(and dance a little tap for us!)

Finally, there is the song called “Cucurumbé”. It’s about a little girl who goes to the beach and stands in the waves so that they may make her face white, like the seashells and the moon that she envies. The fish come up to her, tip their hats, and say, “¿qué no ves que así negra estás bonita, negrita Cucurumbé?” (Don’t you see that you’re beautiful black, negrita cucurumbé?)

You can listen to Negrito Sandía here: http://www.cri-cri.net/mp3/ca101.mp3
Negrito Bailarín here: http://www.cri-cri.net/mp3/ca100.mp3
Cucurumbé here: http://www.cri-cri.net/mp3/ca026.mp3

An American friend of mine would constantly whack her boyfriend on the shoulder and say, “Get your mind out of the gutter!” You see, her boyfriend was an aficionado at “albures”. Anyone learning Spanish and planning on traveling to Mexico needs to be forewarned about them, especially if you are a woman.

You see in Mexico, anything at any given moment could have two meanings. I remember one time when I was traveling by myself in some city in southern Mexico when I got lost. It started to rain and I went deeper and deeper into some unknown “colonia” (neighborhood). I hailed a taxi and gave him my hotel’s address. I made some silly comment about the rain to which the “taxista” (taxi driver) replied, “¿Te gusta mojarte?” (You like to get wet?) I didn’t get it at the time. It wasn’t until a year or so later that I realized what had really happened.

I had already been living in Mexico for quite some time and spoke Spanish fluently before I realized that I couldn’t walk into a store and ask the attendant, “¿Tiene ustéd huevos?” unless I wanted to become the butt of the joke. The word “huevos” in Spanish, especially among men, refers to testicles. Instead of questioning a man’s manliness, most women ask, “¿Tiene blanquillos?” Now that’s something they don’t teach you in Spanish class.

For my husband’s family, New Year’s is generally a family event. We all get together for enormous quantities of food, drink, music and talk. Children run wild, “comadres chismean” (ladies gossip), the men play poker and we all drink and are merry until the clock strikes midnight, at which point we eat 12 grapes so that our 12 wishes for the New Year will materialize.

This year is different. This year we did anything but the traditional familial gathering. We went to Playa del Carmen to stay with my “cuñado” (brother-in-law). An apartment that may cost 1000 pesos in other parts of the Republic, like in Xalapa for example, will cost around 4500 pesos in Playa. So my husband, his daughter, our baby, my “suegra” (mother-in-law), my “cuñado” and his partner all settled into inflatable mattresses in a one-room apartment to ring in the New Year.

Traditionally, families sit down to dinner at midnight, although they start celebrating sometime in the afternoon. This time we made it until 9 and then gathered up our 12 grapes to head out to “La quinta avenida” (Fifth Avenue).

I must say, all seemed eerily calm, until, that is, we made it to the hot spots where foreigners from all over the globe were congregated, drinking, dancing and partying the year away. Here, playing tourist for the evening, we ate our twelve grapes and chimed in to the shouts of “Happy New Year!” and “¡Feliz Año Nuevo!”

Chilanga Banda
(Juan Jaime López; performed by Café Tacuba)

Check out the video here:

Christmas time here is Veracruz is unique not only within Latin America, but also within Mexico. Beginning about mid-December, posadas and la rama are expressions of the holiday season.

Posadas (inns) are held throughout Mexico and are generally religious fiestas in which people ask for shelter for the baby Jesus. In my suegra’s house, one group of people goes outside with candles and a ceramic baby dressed in white. The other group stays inside. Together, we sing a call-and-answer song that depicts the biblical moment in which Mary and Joseph went looking for an inn. We huddle together and drink warm ponche (punch) and eat pambazos (round, bean, lettuce and tomato sandwiches). The night ends with a piñata and plenty of treats for everyone.

There is another tradition here that seems to be particular to the area. It’s called la rama (the branch). Like the posadas, la rama takes place between December 16 and December 24. Children anywhere from 5 to 15 find a branch and decorate it with tinsel, ornaments, balloons, stars or any other piece of festive material. They then go door to door singing a song and requesting treats, drink or even money. They often make their own instruments: bottle caps on a wire serve as rattles; glass soda bottles make for great maracas; and maybe even a tambourine or a guitar.

These festivities are only those leading up to noche buena (Christmas Eve). On noche buena, my husband’s family gets together to celebrate with ponche and tamales until midnight, at which point we all sit down to Christmas dinner. We spend the night, laughing, talking, eating and drinking. Then, on Christmas day, we meet up again for the recalentado, or leftovers (literally, reheated). Christmas is a magical time anywhere, but this is especially true here in Xalapa.

Vocabulary

Navidad – Christmas
Posada – Inn
Las posadas – Celebration
La rama – The branch, literally
Ponche – A hot, natural fruit punch
Noche buena – Christmas Eve
Recalentado – Leftovers, literally re-heated

Once you’ve mastered slang in any given language, you know you’re immersed. You’re in up to the crown of your head and there is no going back now.

In Mexico, there are words and phrases that are used throughout the Republic. Phrases like, “¿Qué onda?” (What’s up?), chido (cool), and simón (yes) are common enough and understood by the majority.

However, there is a vast vocabulary that is specific to any given region. Take, for example, Mexico City. People from Mexico City are often referred to as chilangos. They generally have a way of speaking that is unique in intonation and vocabulary to, for example, people in Yucatán, Chiapas, or Sonora.

Within Mexico City, there are numerous areas that also have their distinctive way of speaking. The most notorious of these is Tepito. This is the kingdom of contraband, the blackest of the black markets and home to any number of colorful characters. About thirty years ago, no one outside of Tepito would have been able to understand the locals. Now, though, most chilangos and more and more Mexicans can follow along with the jerga (slang). We can thank the writers Luis Zapata, José Agustín and the following song, “Chilanga Banda” for a lot of the renown that Tepiteños have now.

The following song, “Chilanga Banda,” (gang/ group from Mexico City) is no easy translation. It is written entirely in jerga from Mexico City, spefically, Tepito. It is a must for anyone hoping to learn about Mexico’s underbelly, street talk, and underground culture. I strongly recommend checking out a translation to common Spanish before trying to really understand it. There is a great translation by Toni Merchant here. I also recommend checking out Jergas de Habla Hispana here. They offer Spanish definitions of the palabras chilangas (words from Mexico City).

When I sat down to do the translation, I had to decide if I would do a literal translation that wouldn’t have any rhythm or a loose translation that might. I decided to mix it up. So, all excuses aside, in the next post I will provide you with the impossible: my English translation of “Chilanga Banda.”

Vocabulary

¿Qué onda? – What’s up?
Chido – Cool
Simón – Yes (an extension of Sí…)
Chilango – A person from Mexico City. This term was originally pejorative, but it is now widely accepted.
Jerga – slang

Palabras - Words