Author Archives: Juan Lopera

The ‘Godinez’ In Mexican Culture

The informant is from Mexico City, currently rotating at UT Medical Center.

The interview occurred at a family barbeque on a Sunday.

He and I discussed what he thinks about when he thinks of his home, which is originally Mexico City. He said that there is nothing quite like the sights and sounds of the urban squares of the densely populated capital. Jesús was a medical fellow in the city and spent most of his early career in the bustling city center.

“Those who are stuck in office jobs, frequently government employees, are called “godinez”, and they are white collar, lower middle class people who never make progress.”

Is there a connotation?

“Yes, it is not a good thing to be called one, but it comes from a name, so it in not totally a diss. We love to use words that have a double meaning, our humor is a frequent play on words, and that is called ‘albur’.

‘De Pelos’ means fantastic, and if you attend a family meal, usually held on Sundays after church or as the natural offering to watch the two soccer rivals play a ‘clásico’; an important match between the Chivas and América, you might be lucky enough to take an ‘Itacate’ home, leftovers packed for later enjoyment, and you might thank your host by saying ‘Te Rayaste, Guey,’ which means, you really outdid yourself, pal!

Here, the informant delves into some of the vernacular inventions of everyday informal speech. Godinez in particular is quite interesting because it is a not uncommon last name that has been given a bad connotation. The Godinez is a desk mule, a no questions wimpy clerk. The origins of the pejorative are unclear, but some ascribe it to a typified character in the series El Chavo Del Ocho. On one hand, the Godinez exemplifies a hard working individual who is doing his or her best to bring home a respectable salary, even if the job is monotonous. And yet, there is in any case a cultural criticism of those who take such jobs too seriously, as is made clear by this sneer. Albur as a whole are quite similar to our use of puns. Often enough, they involve some form of sexual undertone. Itacate translates to provisions, which is quite a clever use in that, beyond being called simply leftovers, with a future purpose left unclear, Itacate implies a level of endearment. Provisions imply a future use, a looking out for the person whom is gifted the Itacate. It is often the case that the whole day is spent cooking for large neighborhood gatherings, and a huge amount of food is cooked so much is left over. In many Latin American cultures the guest is invited to take home the best left overs, is provisioned for future meals.

 

A Ritual Of Coffee Service Employees

The informant in question is a barista with one of the most popular and well established coffee companies in Los Angeles. The ritual in question is, in the informants experience, company wide. Every employee does it.

“Working at a coffee shop with constant, bustling lines and loud talk Is really tiring. Getting really good coffee to thousands of people in one day is a difficult task. Our service line is like a manufacturing line, and we have to also retain a certain level of quality. We start at six in the morning and some of us work far, far into the day. The work is good though.

Mid shift, when the shift is halfway over, we all take a shot of water from our espresso cups. It’s something we all do, right in the middle of the day. It’s like taking a real shot, you know? To celebrate, to get you through it. It’s like ‘the day is halfway over’ and it’s a nice tradition. It helps us keep working and get over the halfway bump”

How long have you been doing it?

“Oh, ever since I’ve been at the company. Always. It’s something we came up with as a team to motivate ourselves. At first we thought, maybe a shot of beer. But there’s lots of us that shouldn’t and can’t do that so we take a shot of water instead. It’s great”

Analysis: This is a cool little ritual that must be helpful for gathering some energy. These baristas are standing all day, constantly pulling shots and servicing people. At first, the informant couldn’t think of any pieces of folklore to share with me. But he got quite excited in sharing this little ritual of theirs.

The Eagle Doesn’t Hunt Flies

I include this piece after an informant with family in Catalan told me that Catalonian proverbs are excellent. This one I found independently, but I quite like it.

“L’àliga no caça mosques” 

In English translates to”

“The eagle doesn’t hunt flies”

Analysis: This is a brief but captivating proverb. I see it as a good summary of the wisdom that bickering about trivial things, and the accompanying haughty attitude one often finds in such situations, accomplishes nothing, and actually reflects quite poorly on the individual. A truly noble or wise individual deals with things in a just and calm manner, doesn’t chase after meaningless things and knows their position; thus, an eagle (the ruler of the skies) doesn’t bother with lowliness.

Taboo Against the Big Stall?

The informant says he’s had very little experience with taboos but that one experience in particular stands out to him:

When he was at the Mexico City airport, waiting for a connecting flight, he stepped into a mostly empty bathroom and went for the big stall because he likes the extra space.

Someone in the bathroom, a random stranger, stepped in his way and accosted him in Spanish, shaking his head in regards to the big bathroom. The informant was a bit surprised by the reaction and didn’t respond, choosing another stall entirely.

The respondent doesn’t know whether to attribute the taboo of using the big stall to the individual of that particular incident or to Mexican culture as a whole. In any case, since he’s spent such a short time in Mexico, he has nonetheless attributed that taboo to the whole of Mexican culture. He concedes that the big stall is important and necessary for those with disabilities, but affirms that in his experience it is the most popular stall.

Analysis:

This one is an interesting and minor piece of folklore. Because we don’t know whether it does describe Mexican culture or not, I won’t make any projections. I do think it is very important that we leave the large stalls alone if other ones are available, and leave them for those whom they’ve been designed.

Reflective Thoughts on Colombia

Informant is a Colombian woman from the second-largest city, Medellín, initially trained as a bilingual teacher. She’s now a writer and artist. She asked if she could have a moment to think and write me down her thoughts and thus the eloquent response:

“My place of origin and my culture are a defining component of my identity, but I did not always consider this fact a blessing. I wanted to leave my country as soon as I had the ability to voice my intentions. The mountains of the valley of Aburrá oppressed me. The Ave María Pues(Holy Mary Now What!) with which problems are faced, the Dios Proveerá (God Will Provide!), the fact that Colombia is entrusted upon the will and design of the HOly Spirit (Colombia, El País del Sagrado Corazón) did not seem to be promising facets of a land blessed with every natural resource imaginable but riddled with the curses of inequity and corruption, compounded by the love of malice and shortcuts for every endeavor and where “el vivo vive del bobo”, he who is astute feeds off the slow witted.

From a very young age, children are taught to tell and listen to frequent jokes about women’s lack of intelligence, instructed about the constant double meaning of words, familiarized with the taunting of men as not being macho enough. All of these behaviors I observed spoke to me of traumas, hypocrisy and a machismo and a sexual repression that belied a very convoluted psyche that encouraged mediocrity. Despite the obvious corruption and distortion of values I read in our humor and our political and social atmosphere, the good-natured spirit of the common Colombian always lightened my preoccupation and desire to flee. The generous smiles and animated conversation with the simplest of people, from mango and fruit peddlers to taxi drivers has always fascinated me. The average Colombian is talkative, spontaneous and friendly, and only after being duped and mugged many times did I develop a self-preservation instinct that made me more guarded and quiet. Music, food, stories and color were constant elements in my childhood. I sought them as refuge, as tools for understanding and for deconstructing the confusing society in which I was born. I danced at the same time that I walked, at ten months of age, dancing equals celebration of every sort in our culture. Our food is always shared and central to any get-together, and it is varied, flavorful and masterfully combines different textures and gradients of sweetness, sourness and salty component. For example, my favorite meal, sopa de arroz, is a beef broth based rice soup served with ground beef (beef ground after being cooked, which results in a light, dry, flaky  “carne en polvo”; accompanied by tajadas de maduro, heavenly sweet ripe fried plantain, hogao ( the base of our cooking, a mixture of stir-fried diced onion, tomato, garlic, cilantro, and green onion) on a crunchy arepa (corn patty) and of course, the slices of avocado that accompany all of our delicious soups.

Our food and our music are the two most important elements that I have proudly taught my children about so that they know about their heritage, as well as our stories, both the globally recognized literature and our own family stories, so unique, so colorful, and which never seem to stop flowing from our relatives’ mouths and from my own imagination.

We come from a rich, bio-diverse, intensely beautiful and convoluted country. Sometimes I envision Colombia as a snake, preciously designed with minute patterns and colors, but which needs to be approached cautiously, and might just offer the poison to be converted into anti-venom to save your life, as contained in our unbridled, loud, intense zest and surrender to life and its pleasures, but tempered by the fact that that very exotic and beautiful creature might seduce you and sink its teeth into your existence.

Analysis: I found this touching, as a Colombian ex-patriat. There is some animosity nowadays when we return to Medellin. My relatives find I have been Americanized. I can’t deny it, and I’m very much thankful for the opportunities I’ve been given in this country, the ways in which I have learned to think. There doesn’t go a day when I don’t think about the Andes, though. Not one. There’s so much in my memory from that place, and there’s a special feeling that I can’t describe that is especial to that place. I think my relative, the informant above, puts her thoughts into words quite well.