Monday, el Día de los Reyes Magos (the day of the Three Kings):
On my way back into my building, I run into the teeny elderly woman who lives on the second floor (see journal entry of 23 December) as she slowly, carefully descends the stairs, one step at a time, all done up in Sunday clothes. She sees me, unleashes her radiant smile, saying something I don't understand. "¿Como?" I respond. "Felizes Reyes," she repeats, a bit slower this time. "Es lo que decimos hoy." ("Happy Kings. It's what we say today.") "Ah!" says I. "Gracias. Igualmente." ("The same to you.") She takes my hands, her eyes half-closed from that high-wattage smile. "Gracias," she says. "Me alegro mucho." ("That makes me happy.") We continue on our separate ways, me giving thanks for small moments.
Tuesday:
Yesterday a.m. around 6:45 a.m., me drifting in and out of shallow sleep, sounds from out in the street wake me. Sounds of trucks, of large, heavy objects being moved. The kind of hubbub that suggests construction, and given that the vacant lot (across the narrow calle from this building) is slated to begin its transformation into an apt. building any day now, I assumed that process had gotten underway. It was the morning after the holiday season's final day -- why waste time? My hand groped its way into the drawer of my bedside night table, found earplugs, stuffed them into the appropriate, er, orifices. Ahhh, quiet -- much better. More dozing. On leaving the house for classes, around 8:40, I saw that the lot across the street remained untouched. All neighborhood Christmas lights were gone, though. The morning after the final day of the season, well before the crack of dawn, the city had sent trucks around, removing all traces of holiday cheer. A handful of stray lighting displays remained in local shop windows, but they've since melted away, like ice in a January thaw. Back to normalcy. (Waaaahhhh!)
Today:
On recounting a bit of last night's visit to the gym in today's language class (see yesterday's entry), I find out that the Spanish don't use the term 'Amazon' to describe a woman of exceptional physical condition and comportment. Instead, the Spaniards use the term "caballo" -– horse. Hmmm. Am not sure that that's a complimentary term, which brings to mind another less than flattering term, the Spanish word for handcuffs: la esposas (the wives). The words of a machista society, I think, feeling just the teeniest bit of condescension until I remember that in past years (and still, for all I know) many American males used the term "ball and chain" to refer to their spouse.
More recently-learned bits of Spanish Spanish:
– El/Ella está como un tren (He/She is like a train) = He/She has a great body. – The word "chulo" has three different meanings: (a) a pimp, (b) cool (i.e., something is "muy chulo"), and (c) an excessively proud or arrogant male. – Tirar perdigones = to spray someone with food while talking. – Un lifting = a facelift. (I am not making that up.) – Un lio = confusion, a mess, a hassle (as in "¡Qué lio!" – "What a mess!") But: Tener un lio (To have a mess) = Tener un amante (to have a lover) – La papilla = the babyfood Echar = to throw, hurl Echar la papilla = to throw up, hurl, toss one's cookies, blow chunks. – Polvo = dust Echar un polvo = to make love (hacer amor) – Un kiki = what a baby has when its parent ties a bunch of its hair with a ribbon. Echar un kiki = to make love.
rws 3:53 PM [+]