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Arrear

Órale, the Caló onda this week is the verb arrear. It comes from the Spanish word for mule team driver, arrero, which was a brutish but well-known trade in Spanish colonial times. Arreros made their living driving the wagons that hauled goods from the provincial capitals to the outlying villages in the countryside, often days and weeks away. As the work was hard and perilous, so too were the men who arreaban those wagons. Out of that harsh experience, came many sayings and words. There are two primary nuances to arrear in Caló.  One is what an arrero would yell to drive the mules through a muddy river crossing or up a steep hill. The other nuance is that of the action of driving a mule team, arrear, which many in the world of Caló today use to say they’re driving a car. We’ll focus on the later nuance in this episode and go back to the other, more colorful one in the next episode.

Arrea and stop talking

Boy and his elementary school sweetheart, Meche, hurriedly got ready for the dance. They didn’t have much time to do more than shower, get dressed and quickly say hello and goodbye to Boy’s cousin, who was hosting them for the night. With their hair still wet and dancing clothes a little wrinkled, they said g Simón oodbye to the cousin, hopped back in their car, which was still hot from the long drive from the Southsid, and sped through the neighborhood to get to a thoroughfare that led to where the dance was taking place. Boy was arreando.

“You know where you’re going,” Meche asked.

“I think so. I went to a dance there back in high school,” Boy said.

“Como que back in high school? The whole city’s changed since then,” Meche said.

“Not everything. The dance is announced in the same hall. I bet the band hasn’t changed—not even their songs,” Boy said.

Meche raised her eyebrows, smiled and shook her head.

“Órale,” she said.

Twenty minutes later, Boy got off the big road and took a narrow lane headed into a barrio in southern part of the city.

Boy slowed down and looked all around.

After a long pause, Meche spoke up.

“Looking for the long line of cars headed to the dancehall?” she asked Boy.

“Siról,” said Boy.

“Pos no there are two right there headed to the dance,” Meche said sarcastically.

Boy took a deep breath.

“Look, a convenience store. I’ll ask there,” Boy said.

He went in and quickly came back out.

“The dancehall moved,” he said as he got in the car.

“Where?” Meche said.

“Farther. By the casino. Don’t worry, it won’t take long to get there. I wasn’t far off. Learned how to navigate hanging with my primos from Los Montoyas, who could get anywhere with hardly any instructions…,” Boy nervously went on and on.

Meche burst out laughing.

Boy stopped talking and looked at her.

“I can’t understand you cuz you’re talking too fast. Just arrea. You can tell me more on the dance floor,” she said.

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Oscar Rodriguez is the creator and host of Caló.