Oscar Rodriguez

Órale, the Caló word of this week is trujir. It’s a verb that means to grab or drag. It comes from the Romani word for the same, trujirpar. Apart from dropping the last syllable of the original word, Caló has turned it into a regular verb that competes with the modern Spanish, traer (to bring).

Órale, the Caló word of this week is cuatche. It means a best friend. It’s a portmanteau, or a word made up of two other words. The two words that make up cuatche are both Nahuatl words, mecoatl (cuate) and tlacuatche, which respectively mean twin and possum. The image presented by cuatche is that of a friend who’s so close they’re practically clinging to you. A cuate is buddy whom you treat then like a friend, A cuatche is a lifelong project whom you treat as if you will always want them around.

Órale, the Caló word of this week is wango. It’s an adjective that means loose fitting, riven or reamed. It comes from the Spanish word for unsteady or clumsy, ñango. Wango can attach as much to a person as to a thing or situation. Somebody is wango if they prove too easy an opponent. A hat is wango if it’s too big on your head. A crowd or game is wango if it’s leaderless.

Órale, the Caló word of this episode is carilla. It’s also pronounced with a rolled r, as in carrilla. It means harassment or grief. There’s no comparable word in Spanish or English. A plausible root word for it in Romaní is carí, which means vehement, heated or arduous, as in a hard, heated or aggressive statement. In Caló, when somebody is casting caustic or sarcastic jokes at someone, it’s said that they are giving them carilla.

Órale, Caló’s going romantic. For the rest of the year, all the episodes will be romantic anecdotes, although the words and expressions themselves may not necessarily be romantic. The hope is that talking about this subtle and nuanced dimension of human existence will deepen your exposure to Caló.Although Caló’s a dialect of a language spoken around the world, its expression along the Rio Grande reflects the unique experience of life in the barrios in that long valley. How does romance occur in that reality? The only distinction from other cultures is that romance is considered a susto (spell). In other words, it’s a caused outcome, not a destined or natural one, where parents, other kin, strangers, and even passing spirits can cast spells, as well as the romantic partners. Then once set loose, the susto takes its own course, and the outcome is uncertain.The word of this episode is borrado(a). In modern Spanish, it means erased. In Caló, it means someone with light eyes—except blue. It’s not a pejorative. The moniker merely points out a class of people who stand out because of the color or their eyes. For there are desirable and undesirable borrados (as).

Órale, the onda this week is the word picudo. It comes from the modern Spanish word pico (peak) and means beaked, peaked or pointed, as in a stork or mountain peak. In Caló, it means someone who’s eloquent or a quick-witted talker. When you have something to say and can’t articulate it yourself, you recruit a picudo to say it for you.

Órale, the onda this week in Caló is the word grifo. In modern Spanish it means a tap or faucet. But in Caló it means someone who’s either sick with the gripa (flu) or deeply under the influence of drugs. The general idea is that flu and drugs lead to the same presentation. The drugs that may be causing someone to be grifo are called grifa, and there’s no distinction between any particular drug, that is, they’re all grifa. And when someone takes them and acts crazy, it’s said they’re engrifado or beyond being merely grifo.

Órale, the onda this week in Caló is the word vago. In modern Spanish, it means alternatively vague, vagabond or vagrant. In Caló, however, vago means somebody who’s mischievous or misbehaved. The key element of a vago is agency. That is, vagos don’t stumble into trouble or misdeeds, they willfully commit them. In this sense, a young child or pendejo adult—maybe also a tapados—can’t be vagos. But a pendejo can be a vago if, once told what is right and wrong, they do males anyway out of spite or defiance.

Órale, the onda of the week is the word tapado. In modern Spanish, it means covered or clogged, as in a lid or drain pipe. But in Caló, tapado means somebody can’t connect the dots or see what may seem obvious to others. The term doesn’t fit within the 5-tiered scale of stupid (baboso-pendejo-menso-sonso-tarugo). It’s not that a tapado lacks an IQ point or two. It’s that they are blind to particular insight, perhaps locked on the wrong paradigm or simply too wishful for the opposite result. In this sense, a die-hard fan of a team that always loses is a tapado. Someone who believes in a candidate or romantic interest and overlooks obvious flaws is a tapado. Fortunately, being tapado is not congenital or an irreversible state because tapados can overcome their deficit, but they inevitably need help or an intervention of some kind to finally see the light.

Órale, the featured word for this week of Caló is yonke. It comes from the English word junk. As it’s a recent adoption into Caló, you see it in signs through the border region on both sides of the Rio Grande today. Unlike the English use of the term, however, it applies as much to animate as to inanimate objects, including man-made objects, unwanted plants, cultural kitsch and even people. A pichirilo that won’t run at all anymore is yonke. Weeds and unpopular songs are yonke. A chirion former boyfriend or girlfriend you don’t wanna see anymore? Yonke.This is gonna be the last of the Spanglish worlds we’re gonna feature in Caló. There’s many others, but we’ll get to them further down the road.