Speaking Spanglish

Hispanics borrow words in English and transform them. For example, one might overhear someone saying in Spanish that their back hurts and hear the word “estrechear,” which takes the English word to “stretch,” adds an “ar” ending used to make a verb into an infinitive, and pronounces it in Spanish. 

Then there’s just pronouncing existing English words with Spanish sounds. For example: With the word “shopping,” the “sh” becomes “ch” and the vowel “o” as in “opus” and the “ping” is like “peen”. The “mall” with Spanish phonology is “mol” with the vowel from “old.”

Also, “junkyard” starts off with a “y” sound, goes on with the “on” from “only” and finishes, roughly, with the sound of the first three letters of the name “Karen.” With the English word “carpet,” the Spanish vowel “a” is added – even though the more common meaning of “carpeta” in formal Spanish is binder or folder. In “push” – as in push or punch the key on a phone – the “sh” in push becomes a “ch” and there is the addition of the ending “ale” (sounds like ah-leh), which is equivalent to the pronoun “it.” Thus, press or push it becomes “púchale.”

With Spanish phonology, “bills” (the kind we pay) becomes, roughly, bee-less, and a “ride” (in a car) gets a rolled “r” and the “d” sound is deleted to arrive at “rai” (rhymes with bye). The word “back” in the phrase “call me back” is (mis)translated literally as “atrás” – meaning behind.
So, is all that a language, a dialect or a strange mix of multiculturalism? In a word, that is Spanglish, a mix of Spanish and English.

For some, Spanglish represents the sure and irreversible result of bilingual societies. For others, it is an aberration, which is what it has been called several times by Víctor García de la Concha, former head of the Royal Spanish Academy, the institution that sets standards for Spanish, and by Humberto López Morales, secretary of the Association of Spanish Language Academies.

But for others Spanglish is a sort of lifeline, a means of adaptation, which slowly incorporates English phrases or words.

Meanwhile, despite the criticism, millions of people with knowledge of English and Spanish will continue using the popular creations: “Click” gets a Spanish pronunciation, plus the ending “ando” –equivalent to the “ing” that marks an English gerund or participle. Similarly, “chatting” becomes “cha” (with the vowel as in “ma”), plus “te” and “ando”; “mouse” pronounced in Spanish is be identifiable (although literally the rodent would be “ratón,”), and for “flirting,” “ando” is again attached to the base form of the verb to get: “flirteando” – with the neighbor.

Spanglish

To read: “Living in Spanglish”, Ed Morales

To view: “Spanglish”, Adam Sandler y Paz Vega 

Photos by Juan Miret 

Toys and Games from our youth

If you ever played with the ball-in-the-cup toys with names such as “balero, emboque, perinola” or “capirucho,” or if you flew a kite, known as “cometas, papalotes” or “papagayos,” or if you spent hours aiming at “canicas” or “metras” (marbles), or if you knocked down mangos with a slingshot known as a “resortera, gomera” or “china,” or if time was irrelevant as you played “escondite” (hide and seek) or “gallinita ciega” (blind man’s bluff) – then, without doubt, you were a Hispanic child.
These toys and games for some are a distant memory. For new generations, it is something that does not exist, something that should be in an archaeological museum. These games may not have the shine and sound of today’s new videos and laptops, but they come loaded with heritage and multiculturalism.
“The games are part of the culture and tradition,” say Gretel García and Eduardo Torrijos in their book “Traditional Mexican Games.” The authors say the games -- “gallina ciega, el patio de mi casa, la víbora de la mar” – which are equivalent to blind man’s bluff or singing or circle games such as Ring Around the Rosie – “and many others can be considered classic traditional Mexican songs, but above all as the most joyful and beautiful games that our children have enjoyed for years.”
Tomás García Blanco, author of the book, “To Play like We Played,” summarizes the need to reclaim the games of yesteryear in his introduction as “a simple idea to transmit memories of yesterday to today’s children."

Yesterday’s games
“Lotería,” a game like bingo, “is a game for the whole family,” Eleazar Delgado said in an e-mail, who explained that his uncle was the caller who would utter a phrase about an old woman and pozole that is often used to start the game.
"Rock, paper, scissors. The game of games,” Carlos Durán said via Twitter.
Miguel Estrada said by way of Twitter that his favorite game was “semana inglesa” (literally: English week), a game in which the days of the week are called out and a boy gets a kiss or a girl gives the boy a slap.
If you can, take a trip back in time, grab a top (known to you as “trompo, peón,” or “peonza”), spin it, and hold it in your hand – and if someone sees it, you’ll have a story to tell.

The art of creating Piñatas

Although some point to the Chinese as the inventors of the piñata, there is no doubt that the Spanish conquerors brought with them a tradition that is always present at birthdays and the Christmas parties known as “posadas.” 

“Piñatas make up part of our Hispanic culture and tradition; that’s how we celebrate,” said Julia Herrera on July 15 as she was making a piñata.

“Making them is an art that is passed down from generation to generation and over time it adapts to the changes.” As examples she gives the creation of a traditional seven-point star for a Christmas posada, or one of a cartoon-like character for a birthday.”

Herrera and her husband, Israel, run a workshop with family members north of Tulsa where they make 200 piñatas a week, which are distributed to Hispanic stores.

She said she learned the trade in her native state of Oaxaca in Mexico and has been making piñatas for 11 years.

“It's an art. Turning paper and cardboard into a star or an animated character is a very beautiful art,” said the artisan. “Of course, now there are tools that make the job much easier.” Some are made with a portion of clear plastic so one can see inside the piñata.

The time it takes to make a piñata depends on the type. “But it usually takes an hour,” said Herrera. “Once you start, you get fully into creating it, and suddenly you realize that you’re done.”

Herrera says December and summer are the times when piñatas are most in demand. “The rest of the year is a little slower.”

Her workshop becomes filled with hundreds of elves, fairies, soldiers and stars – and then every weekend it is empty, but with the knowledge that every Monday work will start again. “It’s a great experience to see all these piñatas that only a few days ago were paper and cardboard and now they can bring happiness to other people,” Herrera said. “That’s why I like what I do.”

Be it December, one’s “santo” (the Catholic saint’s day that corresponds to one’s name), or one’s birthday, do not forget to join in the ditty that is sung as people swing at the piñata, such as the one that encourages them to carefully assess the distance to the target and “hit it, hit it, hit it.”

Notes of interest

The traditional piñata with seven points has been linked to Catholic beliefs, suggesting that this type represents the seven deadly sins, and breaking it symbolizes the destruction of evil and the triumph of good.

During the Spanish colonial period, piñatas were made of clay, shaped like a pot and covered with colored paper, and they were usually filled with fruit.

The Museum of Folk Art of Mexico, located in the historic center of Mexico City, offers regular workshops about making piñatas.

The web site comohacerpinatas.com offers a virtual teacher who explains step by step how to make a piñata.

Photos by Juan Miret 

Serenades

Courtship, reconciliation, gratitude and celebration; those are just some of the reasons that will motivate a man to stand before a balcony, guitar in hand, and let loose a poetic melody in honor of his loved one. 

“Every serenade has something special, a unique meaning, a one-of-a-kind event,” Héctor Escutia, vocalist of the duo known as “Son Café,” said while getting ready with Mauricio Domínguez to perform in Tulsa, Oklahoma. “Young people do not ask for too many serenades, but older, more long-lasting couples still enjoy something as romantic as a serenade.”

For Domínguez, the serenades or serenatas are “a way to keep our traditions alive,” and he said that “the new generations have much to learn from these customs.”

Escutia says one of the most requested songs is the ballad, “Tres Regalos,” (Three Gifts) which says: “Love me, because I think I now deserve you, because I was able to get you into my soul: your greatest altar.” Another, “Gema,” is also a favorite.

Perhaps the new generation of suitors will be inspired to use the serenades of the past.
And even though the song might be offered over the Internet, it will still carry the everlasting message found in the immortal song, “Motivos” (reasons or motives):

And I remain here
looking at you,
and finding in you so many reasons;
I conclude
that you are my best motive.

Photos by Juan Miret 

Eating fruits with spicy condiments

Can you imagine devouring a sweet tropical mango that has been sprinkled with salt, lemon juice, ground chile and “chamoy” – a sort of viscous sweet and sour sauce? 

For Hispanics, that is common, although for others that may not be so, says Sandra Alcántara, a cook at Antojitos Mexicanos, a food stand near Plaza Santa Cecilia, Tulsa, Oklahoma.

“We Hispanics love that,” Alcántara said while preparing an assortment of tropical fruits with spicy seasonings. “For others, this is something new, very odd. They taste it carefully and then they like it a lot. “

For Alex Ojeda, a native of the Mexican coastal state of Quintana Roo, fruit with spicy additives takes him back to his homeland. “I come from the sea,” he said. “So when I eat my fruit with ‘picante,’ it’s like I’m in Cozumel.”

Alcántara, who is originally from the state of Michoacan in Mexico, has been working for a year at the fruit stand. “People eat it all the time,” she said. “When it is cold or hot, people ask for it.”

So, now you know: When eating a mango or a watermelon, enhance the flavor with some spicy ‘picante.’ 

Photos by Juan Miret 

Renaming coffee

Here in the United States, coffee is often nothing special – just coffee: a watery drink, served out of a big pitcher.
But if one is on the other side of the Atlantic, say, in Italy, and asks for a cup of coffee – without elaborating –surely we would get an espresso so perfect and beautiful that even the best barista in the world would be amazed.
But Hispanics, being so different from other mortals, have many ways of asking for coffee. And we cannot be content to say “coffee, please.” If in Colombia, one would ask for a “tinto”; in Venezuela it would be a “guayoyito”; in Argentina, “una lágrima sin espuma” – literally: a tear without foam; and in Cuba – if Fidel allows – a “cortadito,” that is, coffee “cut” with a small amount of milk. And so on, to infinity.
And perhaps we reveal our origins with those inventions that are impossible to explain and measure: two drops of milk, a pinch of brown sugar, a bit of grated nutmeg and a touch of salt – as it is served in the Versailles in Miami, Florida.
For Hispanics, plain coffee does not identify us; we have to baptize it with our Spanish language. Otherwise, it will not taste good.


Unforgettable coffee
Coffee stories heard in Washington, D.C.

On the morning of March 29, three Hispanics complained about the coffee served at the W Hotel in the national capital where the U.S. Hispanic Chamber of Commerce was holding its Legislative Summit. These were some of the comments:
For Ricardo Gonzalez, the best coffee that he’s ever had was in the middle of the Coyoacán neighborhood in Mexico City, near the corner of Cuauhtémoc and Centenario streets. “It tasted like heaven. I don’t think that anyone in the world can beat that streetside flavor.” He found another coffee, almost as good, also in Mexico, in Veracruz. “They mix it for you in your cup and it is very rich. An ideal accompaniment to sweet bread.”
Manuel Estrada said: “In Colombia we have the tinto, a morning coffee, which is never reheated.” He said it is “served in a very small cup, and that will do it for you all day.”
Laura Maldonado, a Cuban living in Virginia, said the Cuban cortadito “is a part of my island, spread over the world.” According to Maldonado, that variant of coffee “is more than an espresso with milk, much more. It’s like made in heaven.”
The three left their disposable paper cups on the marble counter and went in search of a Starbucks.
Exploring that adventure will have to wait for another day, or perhaps another coffee. 

Photos by Juan Miret  

Tasting tequilas

 

The atmosphere is not deafening. The music is not loud. Nor will one hear a verse before one gulps a shot, such as “down the hatch.” Tasting tequila is a sort of solemn ceremony, an art where the sense of taste serves as judge of good qualities and shortcomings.

The practice of tasting (“catar”) means “to analyze, classify, break down and judge,” Andrés del Moral, a member of the Mexican Academy of Tequila, said in an e-mail. “The tasting of tequila goes well beyond the sensory analysis; it is an act of harmony between history and the present, the consummation of an ancient process.”

The tasters engage in rigorous training. “In the tasting nothing is improvised. Everything is done at a specific time,” said del Moral. “There are even specific times for tasting tequila. It is a codified art. Even the walls of the place have to be clean; there can be no strong odors. Everything, absolutely everything, must be planned.”

According to del Moral, a taster must evaluate in several ways: identify the colors based on their intensity, vividness, appearance and cleanliness; then take in the smell or bouquet; then by taste – considered as the key step in the process – and finally the touch or feeling sensation. “While it may seem odd, the tasting is also related to the feeling sense,” he said. “The feel of liquor on the tongue, palate, cheeks and lips.”

The classification of tequilas as white, aged up to a year (reposado) or aged beyond a year (añejo) would be “insufficient,” said del Moral. “Therein lies the importance of the tasting, which evaluates all the components that make up a tequila.”

Del Moral stated the oath of the tequila taster: “I promise to drink only the good tequila I find on my path and I will never allow a tequila to consume me.”


Did you know?
The agave is not a cactus, but a plant belonging to the agavaceae family. It has long, fibrous lanceolate-shaped leaves, and is of a bluish-green hue. The part that is used for the production of tequila is the base or heart, also known as pineapple (“piña”).

Photos by Juan Miret