Language Frontiers

When you cross a country’s border, you are immediately aware of differences: accents, vocabulary, nationality, history, etc. I was excited to go to Buenos Aires, and differences in the language were a welcome change. Argentine Spanish is slower, clearer and simply put, sexier than pretty much any other Spanish dialect. Chilean Spanish has a reputation among travelers as being a challenge, dropping s’s and d’s like porcelain at a Greek wedding. Furthermore, Chilean Spanish is marked by a never-ending bouquet of off-colored double entendres that leave even native Spanish speakers scratching their heads. I can’t begin to estimate how many times I used an everyday word in the classroom, and someone in class would begin an avalanche of snickers, because the word I chose for ‘top’ or ‘a little,’ for example, happens to mean ‘penis’ in Chilean slang (coa). Of course, everyone knows the intended meaning, but the sexual meaning must be made clear. At times, it felt impossible to communicate, because the language itself was laden with distractions and the message often got lost amid the dirty jokes and double meanings.

Nevertheless, after two extended stays in Chile, many social expressions feel normal and they slip out of my mouth without much reflection. It’s impossible to use other expressions and terms without feeling like I am borrowing a script for Buenos Aires. For example to say something is ‘cool’ or ‘neat’ I have always used the Chilean qué bacán and qué choro. For the first three weeks in Buenos Aires, Argentines would look at me when I said this, with a faint smile and their brow slightly wrinkled, and then they would either continue in their conversation or politely say good-bye. At some point, Gisela, my ever-charming Spanish tutor, asked me what the $%*! I mean when I say qué bacán and qué choro (respectively, with poetic license in the first translation, ‘what a filthy rich bastard’ or ‘what a thief’ in Argentine slang or lunfardo). Would I please explain myself? Some form of bacán or bacano exists in many Latin American countries for ‘cool,’ but in Argentina the coolness factor has dropped a few notches. In Argentina I should be saying ‘how barbaric’ (qué bárbaro). At first, I couldn’t bring myself to call something ‘barbaric.’ Now that we have been here for nearly 2 months, it is starting to creep its way into my own mixed dialect, but I do feel a bit like a fake when using it. Nevertheless, progress is being made: I no longer pause in confusion when Argentines respond to my ‘thank you’ with no, por favor (no, please) or simply no and I even remember that this is considered a polite form to reciprocate thanks; I can set up a story for a friend by saying che, boludo (this can be translated as ‘hey friend, stupid’, but it’s friendly and means something like ‘hey, listen to this’), although it may incite a few smiles coming from someone who doesn’t have an Argentine accent and intonation; and most of the time, I can even stick to the Argentine vos (you, informal). Even though I’m sure these things will only be valid until I cross the next border, for now I’m content understanding and being understood here.