Órale, the Caló word of the week is pos. It’s appeared in many previous episodes under the assumption that it was so self-evident it didn’t need translation. We’re now gonna unpack this tiny word to make clear its expansive meaning. It comes from the Spanish word pués, which is a contraction of después (after or then), that means so, then, well or therefore, as in getting to or asking for the dots to be connected or the conclusion or motive to be stated. Examples in English are “well, you gonna do it or not?” or simply “so what?” Pos in Caló goes further and connects the dots under the assumption, stretched or not, that the conclusion or motive is known to all the interested parties. Pos nada. Pos don’t eat so much chile next time, ese. Pos you know. Or simply pos…

Órale, the word this week in Caló is cuerda. In modern Spanish, it means chord, string or line. In Caló, it means a person who’s serious, morally upright, self-assured or uncompromising. A cuerda is opposite of a relaje, a goof-off or an unserious person—we’ve covered this term previously. There are cuerdas in all walks of life, perhaps the same for relajes. Priests, athletes, classmates, and even influencers can be cuerda, The history of this term along the Rio Grande is associated with that of the the colonial rural police during Spanish rule, which was called the cordada after the leather cords, cuerdas, they used to arrest scofflaws and heretics. It was a local all-volunteer irregular posse called together by the upstanding people of the community to enforce local customs, likely more so than the official law. As you can imagine, cuerdas predominated the cordadas. Of course, cordadas—like irregular posses—no longer exist, but the cuerda archetype is still very much present in Caló.

Órale, the Caló word of the week is bronca. It’s a noun that means a fight or conflict. It comes from the Spanish word, bronco, which means harsh, ungovernable, or brutish. In Caló, it means the tension that a bronco generates, not the fight itself but the bad feelings and unease that leads up to one.

Órale, the featured word for this episode is raza. In modern Spanish, it means race or breed. In Caló, it’s a catchall term for a social group or category, as in your friends and acquaintances or the people in your barrio. It’s intentionally imprecise, where agreement on the boundaries and/or membership is assumed but not critical. Raza can mean a gang, a cohort of average Joe’s, your workmates, the people sitting around you at the baseball stadium, even the people who mostly think like you. You know, the raza.

Órale, the word of this episode is chansa. It means chance, but in Caló the predominant nuance is that of “maybe” as in a 50/50% chance. We’re gonna use it in a story told by a northern raquetero about a tricky vato who, when accosted by a gang of robbers, cast a spell over them that let him get the better of the encounter.

Órale, the featured word in this episode of Caló is huato. It means commotion caused by the borlo. You see, the borlote can go on for a long time. It peaks and ebbs. The peak is the huato, when everybody’s excited about it in anticipation of a climax, which isn’t always a good end. Why were you late? I was at the huato, where a ruca who was fighting for a vato took off with the other ruca she was fighting, and her vato went home all agütado.

Órale, we’re going to feature a very local term in Caló for this episode, marfita. It means somebody from Marfa. It’s an honorific, a label, for people who are connected in a meaningful way to Marfa.

Órale, we’re gonna talk about the once-famous term in Caló, con safos. It’s been around for centuries, but it became famous in barrios throughout the US beginning only in the 1960s, when a popular Los Angeles magazine with that expression as its name started publishing. Safos comes from the Spanish term zafar, which means to get loose, escape, untie or unburden oneself. In Caló, it’s a counter-spell you say in anticipation of a curse coming your way. In essence, it says that whatever ill or evil is wished upon you is dissolved or disassembled even as it’s being said such that it’ll come with ways for you to zafar from it. Unlike the common term in American English, “whatever pox you wish on me will come to you,” con safos means “I put up a spell that’ll render your curse useless against me even before you say it.” In its heyday, the term was so well-known that people came to abbreviate it with simple c forward slash s and ritualistically add it to graffiti, cap off poems, and even integrate it into paintings to serve as a protective spell. To be sure, con safos isn’t an innocent or purely defensive spell. It's a preemptive counterattack you lob after you’ve provoked retaliation, as in “I hope your pichirilo breaks down before you get to your date, ese, con safos.”

Órale, we’re gonna to talk about witchcraft for the month of May. Siról, a lot of the context underlying Caló is what is referred to as magical realism in Latin American literature, where people casually interact with devils, navigate curses and cast spells. In Caló, the devil’s always right there acting all mentotote, and pos you have to do something. The devil tries to put a spell on you, and you fight back with your own brujería. If you practice, you can come out ahead. If not, gatcho.This onda is called burlo or burlar. In Romaní, it means game. In Spanish it means to make fun of somebody. In Caló along the Rio Grande, it means to engage in The Borlo, where you try to be more devilish than the devil.

Órale, the feature of this episode is the term ir de onda. In Spanish, it means depart from or lose the wavelength, as in a connection with a radio station frequency. In Caló, it means to lose sense of direction or the thread of the conversation. You lose the onda when you’re distracted or suddenly something shinier, louder, or more urgent steals your attention.