Los_Pachucos_Y_Su_Lenguaje

Los Pachucos y Su Lenguaje by Richard J. Griego, April 2002 His name was Arturo, but he was known to his camaradas as Count Dracula, and he was my brother-in-law, at least for the short year that he and my sister were married. The unusual nickname was given to Arturo at age fifteen when he was working as an assistant in a funeral parlor. One day the body of a young lady friend of his came in and Arturo picked her up and started waltzing around with her. The shocked employees asked what he was doing. Arturo said that he was giving his friend her last dance. One of the guys said, “Man, you look just like Count Dracula.” and from that point on the saga of el Drácula began. My father disliked Arturo, saying he was a pachuco and a marihuano. The year was 1948, I was only nine years old and I was warned to stay away from el Drácula, who himself was only sixteen. But there was an alluring attraction to him: he had flashing hazel eyes, pale skin and sandy hair slick-backed into a ducktail, which was made darker with pomade. Arturo was handsome, slender and tall; he had a sauntering walk - he would swing his arms slightly from side to side and sway his shoulders. He wore long-sleeve lisas (shirts) buttoned all the way up to the neck, baggy pegged-pants (drapes with reet pleats) worn high on the waist and fitted tightly at the ankles, and highly shined calcos (shoes) with pointed toes. Count loved the borlotes (dances) at the Old Town Society Hall (la Ruca) and the Armory in downtown Alburque. When he danced, he moved his feet but slightly and gently rocked to the rhythm. He made the woman come to him, while he just stood there and twirled her around. The girl did all the work; he was cool and aloof. Count was a natural leader. He seemed older than he actually was and although he was the youngest, he became the head of his clica in the Sawmill neighborhood of Alburquerque. Count era un bato de aquellas y siempre andaba muy bien entacuchado. Around my parents Arturo always spoke in respectful reserved tones, but when he was with fellow chucos, Count tioricaba el totacho de los tirilongos (Count spoke the language of the cool dudes). When the batos met they would greet each other with a backward motion of their heads. Órale, they would say. Their speech was full of words and phrases like: la ruca; que agüite; ponte trucha; nel, ése; me la rayo; mi jefita; simón; chal; la güisa; carnal and necesito jando pa’ ir al mono con mi jaina. Around outsiders the pachucos were reserved and hermetic, with a dangerous air about them. I didn’t understand a lot of what they were saying until my cousins (who were chuquitos themselves) would tell me the meaning of some of the vocabulary. Moreover, I would be immediately rebuked if I ever used some of the pachuquismos in front of my parents. Once, I inked a “pachuco cross” on the web between my thumb and forefinger with a pen. Youngsters used to do this and then prick the ink with a pin in order to achieve a permanent, if crude, tatoo. I had not reached that point when my father spied the offending cross on my hand and made me immediately wash it off with an admonition to me never to try that again. Who were these pachucos' Why did they talk that way' Why were they despised by so-called respectable people' What happened to them' It wasn’t until I grew up and started reading and talking to people that I began to develop a realistic picture of la pachucada. There are several books on pachucos, at least one major film and, more recently, a national public television special. Yet, no single source covers all the bases about this fascinating group among our people. The term “pachuco” comes from a nickname for the city of El Paso, which was often referred to as El Pachuco or simply El Chuco. Groups of youth from El Paso migrated to Los Angeles in the 1930s and they were referred to there as pachucos. These young people brought with them the language of the barrios, which contained influences from the Mexican underworld, which spoke a dialect that had its origins (in part) in the language of Gypsies called caló. This Gypsy language in turn is the Spanish adaptation of Romani, the original tongue of the Gypsies or Roma that migrated to Europe from northwestern India. The dark-skinned Roma were misnamed “Egyptians” by Europeans and this name came to be “Gypsies” in English and “gitanos” en español (derived from “egiptanos”). The caló of Spain has many Romani words, but its grammar is based on the Spanish language. Roma found hostility and oppression everywhere they went and there were attempts to extinguish their Romani language. Roma operated at the margins of society and, in response to discriminatory laws, some got involved in shady or criminal activities, which gave rise to stereotypes that have plagued the entire people. Gitanos came from Spain to the Americas early on. Indeed, there were a few Roma on the third voyage of Cristóbal Colón. Gitanos continued to be exploited and persecuted in the Spanish colonies in which they came to form an underclass. In México, as elsewhere, some gitanos eventually became involved in extra-legal activities. This then is the origin of the underclass and underworld associations of caló. Not all who could speak or understand caló in México were gitanos or criminals. Indeed, caló set the tone and spirit for a lot of underground culture in México. The use of some caló in one’s speech would often be a mark of “hipness” by the user. In México some of the most expressive and characteristic expressions are in fact caló terms. For example, the useful and malleable chingar is derived from chingarar, a caló word meaning “to quarrel”. The concept of mexicanos as being los hijos de la chingada (the sons of the violated one, i.e., of la Malinche) is at the very core of the Mexican psychological makeup. One can refer to the writings of Octavio Paz and Carlos Fuentes for extensive commentary about this complex phenomenon. There have been two foci of the pachuco world: El Paso (El Chuco) and East Los Angeles (East Los). El Paso is a caldron of conflict and creativity, a place where worlds collide – the Mexican and the North American. Thus, El Paso is a fount of culture, where many of the cultural attributes that characterize Chicanos throughout the Southwestern United States are created, developed and transported to the rest of Aztlán (as the Southwest is known among Chicano nationalists). Certainly, much of pachuco culture was created in El Paso. However, Los Angeles is where the full expression of pachuco culture took place and where its most assertive expressions were displayed for all to see. Today’s picture of the pachuco in the public imagination was developed and disseminated in the balmy climate of the City of the Angels. Two popular L.A.-based movies featured pachuco styles. In Zoot Suit, Edward James Olmos plays El Pachuco wearing his zoot suit and speaking caló. The Mask, with Jim Carrey, features this star also wearing a zoot suit, although the movie is not explicitly about pachucos. Language especially was created in El Paso, Los Angeles and throughout the Southwest and caló gitano influenced the language of the marginal Chicano classes. The young people of these classes, also known as tirilongos or tirilones, adapted other elements besides caló gitano into their speech. A wonderful aspect of the language of the pachucos, which here will be called caló pachuco, is its inventiveness and spontaneity. While the basic matrix of caló pachuco is standard Spanish, it has a variety of other linguistic features listed below. Archaismos. These are words from old Spanish that are common in New Mexico and in rural areas of Mexico. Pachucos also utilized such words, being that they were sometimes from these communities. For example: asina – así; mesmo – mismo; muncho – mucho; lamber – lamer (from this comes lambe and lambiscón – kissass). Anglicismos. These are terms that are derived from English or that have been literally translated into Spanish. For example: birria (bironga) – beer; clica – gang (from “clique”); ganga – gang; dátil – a date (with a person); guachar – to watch (Ay te guacho, gacho.); guaino – wino; songa – song; dar quebrada – to give a break (La jura no me quiere dar quebrada, carnal.); escuadra – a square or unhip person. Aztequismos. These are words that come from Náhuatl, the language of the Aztecs. For example: chante – home or house (from chantli - home); chicloso – well dressed, sharp (from tzictli – glutinous milk produced by the sapodilla tree), also chicloso means “glutinous” in México, and chicle – gum – derives from tzictli; mayate – black man (from mayatl – a black beetle); tacuche – suit (from tacuchi – to bind with cloth), verb form – entacuchar – to dress. Various sources attribute chante as deriving from “shanty”. However, the English “shanty” probably comes from the French chantier – lumberman’s hut – or from the Irish sean tig – old house. Since chante is an old word that exists and is used in central México, far removed from English influence, it is certain that “shanty” has no relevance. Note that chantarse or achantarse means “to get married” in pachuco – you are setting up house when you get married – similar to the standard Spanish casa (house) and casarse (to get married). Calóismos. There are two types: terms imported directly from caló gitano, i.e., from Spain, and those from caló mexicano, native to México. Caló mexicano can also be called jerga mexicana (Mexican slang) and it is associated with the underworld, although the reach of the slang goes beyond the criminal class. Caló gitano: bute (or buti) – much, very; calcos – shoes; catear – to hit with a fist (from catar – to knock down, trample), also cato – blow from a fist (from cate – a blow); chota – police (“informer” in caló); chavalo – boy (from chaval – young man); jando – money (derives from jandoró – money); jarana – guitar (“diversion” in caló); lima (also lisa) – shirt; sardo – soldier; vaisa – hand. Bato (vato) – guy or boy – is probably derived from the caló gitano word chibato (chivato) – young man. Also, bato means “father” and bata “mother” in caló gitano, so I’m sure that the pachuco word bato is caló in origin, rather than of New Mexican Spanish origin as is stated in some sources. For example, A Dictionary of New Mexico and Southern Colorado Spanish by Rubén Cobos states that possibly bato is derived from the name of a shepherd in the New Mexican play Los Pastores. I favor the caló derivation. Caló mexicano: apañar – to steal; filero – knife; jura – police (from jurado – jury); nel (or nela) – no; tando – hat; totacho (or tatacha or totacha) – language; trola – a match. Metaphors. These are standard words that are adopted with changes or extensions of meanings. Thus, al alba – alert, sharp, smart – usually “at dawn” – (the early bird gets the worm, i.e., is sharp); borlo (borlote) – a dance – the standard meaning is “tumult”or “uproar”; carnal – brother – ordinarily “sensual” or “related by blood”; descontarse – to leave – from descontar –“to discount”; rayar – to swear – customarily “to underscore”; refinar – to eat – usually “to refine”; teórica – speech, talk – “theory” in standard speech (from this comes teoricar (or tioricar) – to speak); yesca – marihuana – usually “tinder” or “fuel”. Plays on words (alterations). Calmantes, Montes. – instead of Cálmate, Montes; cora – heart – from corazón; nelson – no; Nos vidrios. – instead of Nos vemos.; ¿Ontablas' – instead of ¿Donde estabas'; ¿Qué pasión' – instead of ¿Qué pasó'; simón, sirol – sí; viroles – frijoles; ya estufas – instead of ya estuvo; ya sábanas – instead of ya sabes. The metaphors and alterations exemplify the true sense of playful spirit and inventiveness of the language of the pachucos. Inventions or words of uncertain origin. Chale – no (some sources claim this derives somehow from the English name “Charles”, but I doubt this); clemo – penny; frajo – cigarette; güisa – girl (Linda Fine Katz in her UCLA master’s thesis “The Evolution of the Pachuco Language and Culture” states that güisa comes from güisáo – “brothel” in germanía, a more general European slang associated with criminal classes. The pachuco word jaina – girlfriend – is usually attributed as deriving from the English “honey” (for example, Cobos and Katz), but Diccionario de Caló – El Lenguaje del Hampa en México by Carlos Chabat lists jaña as mujer o amasia (woman or lover) and jaño as hombre, so it seems to me that jaina is a variation of jaña and has nothing to do with “honey”. Also, ramfla (ranfla) in pachuco caló means “car”. Cobos claims ramfla comes from the English word “rambler” (which I doubt), while others state that ranfla is a Mexican colloquialism for “old vehicle”. Some English words associated with drug culture are actually derived from caló pachuco, although such sources as the Dictionary of American Slang give other origins, such as American Negro slang, for these words. For example: “reefer” (marihuana cigarette) – from grifa (pachuco for marihuana); “roach” (marihuana butt) – from roncha – same meaning; “toke” (a “hit” of marihuana) – from toque. Thus, the language of the pachucos was complex and inventive. The term caló (without modifiers) in the Southwest has come to designate this pachuco linguistic melange, extending the original meaning of caló as simply the language of the gitanos. In New Mexico I have encountered those who say that pachuquismo was a Los Angeles phenomenon and deny that our home was ever a stage for pachucos. However, it is instructive to consider the following interview conducted in the 1970s (from Caló Tapestry by Adolfo Ortega): “Yo me crié en Alburque, el la ciudad. Yo ni cuenta me daba que había otra lengua. Los batos allá en el barrio, todos hablaban así. Los batos locos, tú sabes, todos tiorican así. … Yo podía comunicarme con otros batos y nomás escuchando el totacho de ellos de volada me daba cuenta de qué parte del estado eran. … Los chucos y los batos, son igual carnal. Antes que hubieran batos locos, les decían batos chucos. Como, bueno, yo tengo treintaicinco abriles de edad, ya no estoy chavalón. Cuando yo me estaba criando allí en Alburque, ése, pues en ese tiempo cuando le preguntaban a uno que de qué raza eras, todos los batos decían ‘pachuco’. En esos tiempos me crié yo, en los tiempos de los pachucos, que fue el primer revolucionario que hubo.” The interviewee was from the barrio of Barelas, right there in the Duke City. World War II marked the zenith of pachuco cultural influence among la raza. Pachucos soared onto the national stage due to the infamous “Zoot Suit Riots” that occurred during June 1943 in Los Angeles. It would be more accurate to call these disturbances the “Sailor Riots” since they were characterized by attacks by American sailors and other servicemen on zoot suiters. A zoot suit featured a knee-length coat with outrageously padded shoulders. The zoot suiter topped things off with a wide-brimmed pancake tando (hat) and a long gold chain hanging down to his knees. The zoot suit, which required a large amount of war-rationed material, became the symbol of the pachucos’ uniform and their rebellious attitude. The zoot suit became the focus of disdain and attacks by the servicemen in Los Angeles in 1943. Pachucos were alienated from both traditional Chicano society and from the mainstream American way of life. Youth everywhere have questions of identity – who am I' how do I confront the world' Caught in a no-man’s land between lo mexicano and lo gringo, the pachucos fashioned their own reality from the tools at hand: a language – caló; a music – swing, jazz and, later, mambo; a social network – la clica; and a mode of dress – the zoot suit (which was incorporated from the styles of Harlem). Certainly, rebellious youth everywhere do similar things, but mainline white American kids are not the victims of racism and class discrimination as were the pachucos. La pachucada flaunted an independent spirit that would not take any crap from anyone. During the Chicano Movement of the late 1960s and 1970s pachucos became a symbol of resistance and cultural pride. Pachuco caló was incorporated into the language of the Movement and one saw the scene of Chicano university students tioricando (o tratando a tioricar) en caló. Pachucos themselves were thoroughly non-political and they never sought to organize their communities outside of their own immediate clicas. Thus, it is ironic that the distant and alienated pachuco was redefined as a revolutionary, a cultural hero. As for Count Dracula, he left Alburquerque for San Francisco. There he worked at Fantasy Records, an outlet for West Coast Jazz – Dave Brubeck, Gerry Mulligan, and the like. Count’s job was to press records in plastic disks of red, yellow, green and blue – all brilliant colors. He would combine the colors on a single disk and make psychedelic combinations long before the hippies came up with the idea. Count y los músicos guachaban los discos voltear y escuchaban la música mientras que se ponían locos. Count was into drugs – marihuana and harder stuff. His second wife finally gave him an ultimatum to choose either drugs or her. He chose her and cleaned up his act. My mother asked Count a few years later why he couldn’t have gone straight sooner, when he was married to my sister. Count died at the young age of 40, the victim of inhaling poisonous fumes at a job with a refrigeration company. I got the chance to visit him a few years before he passed away and he was gracious and generous with me in spite of the conflict he had with my family. His daughter (my niece) ran across Dave Brubeck a few years ago and he still remembered Count fondly. Many people found Count unforgettable. Pachucos had their day in the sun during the 1940s and 50s. Their heirs in the 1960s and 70s were the vatos locos or cholos and today it is the homeboys who carry on the spirit and some of the tradition of the pachucos. The spirit of the pachuco speaks to us even to this day. My son plays guitar in a global Latin music band and I had occasion to be at one of his gigs. That night I heard newly-arrived mexicanos de México tioricando en caló and the band played ‘Gitano” by Santana and a song by the Gipsy Kings. Count would have felt right at home. … ¡Ponte trucha! Aquí viene el Drácula, bien entacuchado.