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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.

Órale, the feature of this episode is the term por la brava. In Spanish is means by way of the brave woman. In Caló, it means in offense or, translated to the modern vernacular, in your face. When you act against the law, contrary to everybody's warning, or in pursuit of a fight, you do it por la brava. It’s indeed an aggressive term that should not be said—or taken— lightly. Also expressed in Spanglish as, a la brave, the term announces willful defiance and acceptance of the consequences. Vatos who do something a la brave, don’t whine later that they didn’t mean it.

Across three decades, the local nursery has acquired a unique intimacy with the Trans-Pecos flora.

Órale, the featured Caló word this week is raquetero. It means a dishonest raconteur, somebody who tells fantastical stories with the aim of actually deceiving their listeners. To raquetear is a talent, and in the past when there were no movies or other avenues for entertainment, raqueteros were in demand. And they would spin seemingly endless yarns, sometimes funny and sometimes merely exhilarating, but only believable enough to keep everybody’s attention. But after they went out of fashion, the raqueteros turned their talent to intrigue, gossip and conspiratorialism, just telling stories to disrupt the order of things. The mediocre ones merely annoyed everybody. The best ones cause major chaos without anybody knowing they’re doing it. Who hates a raquetero the most? Another raquetero.

Órale, the word of the week is totacha. It means scant knowledge, as in a dab of a given language or subject. Totacha is at the opposite end of the scale from full command of a subject. It can’t be said you’re totally ignorant if you know totacha, but know totacha sometimes gets you in more trouble than total ignorance.

Órale, the word of the week is catchar. It comes from the English verb, catch. In Caló, it means more that catch. It also means to be enchanted by a spell, as in captivated by someone attractive or devilish. “I was walking by, and you me catchaste.”

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.