Idiomasyncracies: ¿Hay Fab?

I often walk to the corner store and end up being cornered by the owner.  He'll go off on a rant, arms flailing about, while customers come and "ocho" go.  He just belts out a number once in a while to collect his "doce" due from the patrons.  Frequently people walk in and ask, ¿Hay Fab?

The question means, "Is there Fab?" or more in laymen's terms, "Do you have laundry soap?"  For that the owner has to go into the back room.  It gives me time to think, and one day it occurred to me that I haven't actually SEEN Fab since I came back here in 2007. 

Powdered soap usage is not limited to laundry.  Cars, dishes, hands, floors - you name it - washed with Fab.  In the days before our attraction to having to have an overwhelming variety of brands available to choose from, in laundry soap brands, there was only Fab.  The people still refer to all laundry soap as Fab.  For a Yucatecan, a bag of Fab, and bottles of Fabuloso, bleach and muriatic acid are all one needs to effectively clean any kind of surface, dirt, or mold.

Yesterday I scoured the laundry soap shelves at our local supermarket, Chedraui, and this is what I found.  No such thing as Fab.

¿Hay Fab? 

No, no hay.

Idiomasyncracies: Combing Your Hair

This is really a double idiomasyncracy that could easily get you into trouble in a conversation. 

The word for 'hair comb' is un peine.  It is pronounced pay'-eee-nay, accent on the first syllable PAY, and I have trouble hearing the eeeeeee part in the middle - it's BARELY pronounced.  The locals tend to swallow it completely, especially speaking with a Yucatecan accent. 

The first (and only time) I paid someone to cut my hair here, I thought I explained that I wanted the dead ends trimmed and the style not changed, just cleaned up.  She smiled and agreed and seemed to understand, but when she was finished I had a hideous short mullet.  Before that experience I had never even heard of a mullet, but I did start noticing more of them as I walked around our neighborhood...she is the area mulletmaker.

She came to my house for the appointment, and we set up a chair outside.  I wet my hair and we were almost ready to begin.

"¿Tienes un peine?" She asked.

"¿COMO?????"

What I heard was "¿Tienes un pene?"  Un pene is a 'penis'.  The word is pronounced pay'nay.  Tell me THAT isn't confusing!  We had a laugh and I brought her a comb and a brush, since I wasn't sure.

If you are looking to purchase a hair comb, you might want to stress the eeeeeeeeeee part of peine or you risk being laughed at.  Ask for a brush instead - un cepillo. The dictionary has two words for 'brush', cepillo and escobilla.  Both refer to a brush or broom in general, and neither are hair specific.  Just to be safe, if you aren't sure of your language abilities ask for un cepillo para cabello....'brush for hair', and work your way into to a comb from there, by following with a mas fino, por favor, for example.  That might get you to a comb.   Knowing me, I'd go in there cocky and ask for un peine fino, say it wrong, and probably get my ass kicked.  From what I've seen and learned, most local stylists are kind of rough - like biker chics.

Pablo tells me that the word for 'hairstyle' is peinado but I could swear when the mulletmaker finished with me and handed me a mirror, she asked me, "¿Te gusta tu peine?"  The fact is I might have liked a penis better than I liked that hairdo.

There is one saving grace on this idiomasyncracy.  Peinar is a verb, meaning to comb or dress the hair, to comb wool, to touch or rub slightly, to excavate earth.  Therefore with so many definitions, there are also many forms of the word...its verb forms, all 15 tenses of them, and the nouns, adjectives, etc. that emerge from the verb.

Pene, on the other hand, just has the one meaning. There is no verb that means 'to penis'.  When the Spanish word for 'penetration' is used, penetrar, it is not used in a sexual context. So if you think you hear pene in a phrase or in another form, it's probably peine and has something to do with brushing. I think there are other euphemisms in Spanish to call someone 'a dick'....I've never heard the formal word pene used in slang.  (If I have, I've been insulted and missed it!)

The second part of this blog is about your hair.  There is an important difference between cabello and pelo.  The dictionary defines cabello* as 'the hair of the head'.  It defines pelo as 'hair', but of course has a paragraph of other uses also.  They both do, and the words are mostly interchangeable.  I don't know if it's a Yucatecan colloquialism, or a Mexicanism, but when you talk about your pelo here, you are talking about pubic hair.  I learned this tidbit a year after I moved here one day in the pool when I said something to my neighbor about my hair, mi pelo. If I remember correctly, she cracked up, and said, "I think you mean cabello."  I called Pablo on that one, HE let me use the wrong word for a whole year!  When I asked him why, he said he thought it was funny.  Real cute.

The moral of the story is, don't ask anyone to PENE TU PELO.  If you do go to a stylist, get a reference from someone who doesn't wear a mullet, and in this case you might want to stick to upscale places in fancy neighborhoods, NOT THE CENTRO.  My hair probably looks like PELO since Pablo and I cut our own hair, or each other's, and I am just not very kind to my hair....color chemicals, pool chemicals.  I guess I make myself feel ok about it because of some of the noticeably hideous hairstyles I've seen around town - that are done that way on purpose! 

*One last tip, Don't get cabello confused with caballo, which means 'horse'.  I don't even want to think of all the troublesome combinations that could come of confusing all the above words!

Idiomasyncracies: Gente and People

Some idiomasyncracies are funny while others, like this one, are meant to be informative.  These are questions Spanish language learners/practicers ask me, and they are concepts that can be confusing.

In the Spanish dictionary gente means: people; persons in general; folk; nation; those who comprise a community; family. A good example of its usage would be, "Es buena gente."  In English, "he's good people" or "he's good folk", etc. 

In this phrase, "La gente de Chiapas es muy pobre," I am simply saying "the people of Chiapas are very poor."  You'll notice that "la gente" is a singular word and even though it is used in a plural concept its verb is third person singular.  "Me cae bien la gente del Yucatán."  "I like Yucatecan people."  The noun and verb remain in singular form.

La gente can be pluralized.  Las gentes is a correct way of saying "the peoples"....as in many groups of different categories of people.  So you CAN say "Las gentes de Chiapas son muy pobres,"  because the truth of the matter is there are scores of indigenous groups who speak unique languages and live with unique customs in Chiapas, and they represent a large percentage of the abject poverty of the state .  Should you choose the second phrase with las gentes, you will be understood to be talking about more than one group.  If you say, "Me gustan las gentes de Mérida," "I like the peoples of Mérida," the response will be big eyes, because that is a very large, all inclusive GUSTO.

The confusion enters when translating to our word 'people'.  It is a plural word. It always indicates a body of persons sharing a common thread and automatically takes a third person plural verb form.  "People are broke."

'The people" denotes the mass or ordinary persons, i.e. the populace.  It too requires the third person plural verb accompaniment. 'Peoples' is an acceptable plural form of people, but it's only used in the plural (peoples) to refer to two or more groups considered to be political or cultural entities:  "The Mayan peoples' history,"  for example.

The lesson then would be that a singular noun in Spanish must be accompanied by a singular verb and singular adjectives.  Even if the noun indicates a group, that group becomes a singular item.    On the other hand, the English word 'people' is already in plural form and thus requires plural accompaniments.  This is just another example of how we look at things a little differently, and another reason it is so confusing to learn another language. 

¡Ojalá le gustó a la gente este artículo!
I tried to download a video but the procedure has changed, so I am not sure if this is going to work for you or not.  You should be able to just click below to hear the song.   If you can handle Latino rap or whatever this is, the lyrics are great.  Unfortunately they are sung so fast you don't understand a thing. The point is, it is a song about all kinds of GENTE.  They played this video for six months, once an hour, on a tv station we watch.  After a few months I'd gotten the lyrics and actually liked this song  Funny.  

Wild Song about lots of GENTE

Idiomasyncracies: The Maricón at the Malecón

Before I get started, don't anyone get offended here.  Don't shoot the messenger!  I'm just reporting the facts, folks, just the facts.  I know I speak with a sailor's tongue, but that is basically confined to English.  When I speak Spanish I don't use that many expletives.  However when I learn any new language, one of the first things I want to do is recognize the "bad" words.  When I lived alone in Akumal, Quintana Roo, in the 1980's, I needed to know the Mayan cuss words.  If someone offended me I wanted to be able to recognize it and defend myself.  I approached Hawaii, Samoa, Tonga, Fiji, Australia, Bali  and anywhere else I've been the same way. 

One of the terms I have heard often here is "maricón".  It is the Spanish equivalent of a derogatory term for gay, like "queer" perhaps.  It isn't a term I use at all, but I do hear it a lot.  The local guys use it liberally in their salutatory banter.  Therefore it sticks forefront in mind as an important idiomasyncracy.

I often find myself walking along a seawall, or malecón.  I hear the word malecón and images of La Paz in the 70's, Cabo San Lucas or Cozumel in the 80's, and Progreso or Celestún in the 2000's are conjured up in my mind.  I think of a romantic stroll along the seawall in any sea town, Mexico.....but the beautiful thought often gets interrupted with the sound of the word marícón flying through my head.  If I see a male prostitute on the seawall, I want to break into song.  Watch out for this idiomasyncracy, you could get yourself into trouble. 

Idiomasyncracies: Ambition

This is something I was seriously lacking last week, ambition. In English that is. I tend to avoid using the word in Spanish because it just doesn’t translate.

In the American Heritage Dictionary, ambition is defined as: “An eager or strong desire to achieve something; The object or goal desired; A desire for exertion or activity.” That’s how I use the word, to express my degree of eagerness for an event or a wish.  My head cold zapped all my ambition last week and left me feeling rather worthless.

I think we English-speaking people are an ambitious bunch. We are goal oriented and like to discuss our desires and ambitions. We also tend to judge one another on our ambitions or lack of them. Isn’t the first question we ask a person we meet, “What do you do?” It seems that here in México people are more interested in where you come from than what you do. Maybe it is because so many of the people in this big city are from somewhere else and seem to have dabbled in several types of employment. Or maybe it's the kind of people I attract because of how I have lived. 

In the Velázquez Spanish-English Dictionary, ambition is defined as covetousness. Here in the Yucatán the word is used to express greed and avarice. If someone tells you how ambitious you are (¡Qué ambicioso eres!) that would be an insult. You’d have just been called a greedy bastard and might want to ask yourself, am I being ambicioso or am I simply ambitious?  Good luck explaining your way out of that one.  I recommend avoiding that conversational path. 

Idiomasyncracies: Jamón ó Jabón

In my opinion Spanish is a fascinating language and living in this environment is a constant learning experience.  As I strive toward fluency I am often humbled or even humiliated by my inability to communicate certain concepts.  On occasion I misuse words and confuse vocabulary to the point of being scoffed or laughed at.  My plan is to post a series of tidbits I've learned, and continue to learn, about these "idiomasyncracies".  Idioma means language in Spanish + idiosyncracies are life's little oddities.  Thus, the little oddities in Spanish. 

**One additional new word introduced here is autoventures:  automobile + adventures (lengthy insane car trips throughout Mexico and Central America).

Still one of my favorite stories, this first example is a scenario that took place over 30 years ago on one of my earliest Mexican autoventures.  My brother, a girlfriend and I drove from Los Angeles down the entire Baja Peninsula, ferried from La Paz to Mazatlán, and were on our way to the town of Tequila, Jalisco, one day, when we stopped for breakfast.

My brother and Karen had very limited Spanish speaking abilities.  That means I did most of the talking the first week and a half of the trip.  In 1976 my Spanish sucked, but I didn't know that then.  It got us by, and more importantly we all usually got whatever we needed, or close to it anyhow.

On this occasion my brother decided he wanted to start speaking for himself.  He said he'd order his own breakfast.  Whe the waiter asked him what he wanted, he proudly said, "Quiero huevos con jabón."

While my brother was concentrating on the words to communicate the style he'd like his eggs prepared, the waiter and I burst into laughter.  My brother's face turned crimson.  "What did I say wrong?"

"You just ordered eggs with soap."

Bro swallowed his pride and quietly corrected himself, "Huevos revueltos con jamón, por favor."  That is scrambled eggs with ham.  He probably wanted his eggs over easy, but that would have added more confusion. 

In Spanish there is often a doble sentido (double meaning) involved adding to the chiste (joke).  In this case huevos is one of several slang terms for testicles, and "I want (my) balls with soap"  can open up one's imagination. 

The way I always remembered this idiomasyncracy was:  JaMón....haM.     JaBón....Bubbles....Soap.  You have to trick your mind into remembering some of these things.