Bachaquero Style

                                          

                       
Probably if you are not from Venezuela, you do not know or handle the term “bachaquero”. As a Venezuelan citizen, a well-known student and even a Deputy President of a Student’s Union Center at my university, I must say: I hate this people. Let me introduce you a possible scenario for this madness that we are suffering as citizens of a 2015 world.

Imagine the picture of the South Korean rapper who sings GANGNAM STYLE. Now try to focus on the horse riding movement of him, multiply him by a hundred of bad, even ugly people and then imagine them running across each grocery store or supermarket, right after they hear that there are goods[1] that are going to be sold at a reasonable price. Yelling, insulting anyone who tries to deal with them, and even pushing people away as well. these are the ways they behave. But that is not the ugly part of the nightmare. The thing is that after those “mustards”  buy the goods (not to write the perfect –bast…- word) , they sell it at an insanely crazy expensive cost to the people who do not have the opportunity to do a simple queue to buy food or any other thing because…those are working! Honest people, who have a decent life, who respect the law, who understand that we need to behave and work hard for a better country, ergo, a better world. Not like those mustards.  

[1] Products that are manufactured or refined for sale.  Like dairy products, meet, chicken, even soap or shampoo. 

As any other force that goes against the system, they do not follow the rules, do not respect the order, have their own code to damage the society. Actually, is like the GANGNAM STYLE video itself. (For the ones who do not like, I feel you guys. For the ones who do like that video…thank you…my brain has recognized you as…mustards).

Unfortunately, as any other secondary effect from both this "bachaquero's phenomenon" and the video among us, that famous song has a sentence that I (as many other citizens) had to learn against my will. After listening many…many….many times that weird song everywhere: the bus, the TV, the radio, the ringtones and whatever shit that was related to. The nightmare goes like: [♫Ehhhhhhhhhh sexy lady… wouf, wouf, wouf, wouf Opa GANGNAM STYLE!♪….eeeeeeeeeehhhh sexy lady… wouf, wouf, wouf wouf  Opa GANGNAM STYLE♪!] 

In our country, you can feel like a certain analogical/mental phrase within “bachaqueros” (or any other possible translation word for these guys: bachaquers, thieves, mustards, whatever you like to judge them and go far from.) That line goes: [♫-Aaaaaaaaaa-rrived a product… wouf, wouf, wouf wouf; and we have to buy! ♪Aaaaaaaaaaaa-rrived a product… wouf, wouf, wouf, wouf.  I-really-must-buy! ♫♪]

I do not know what we could do as Venezuelans to make this disease, this infection, -because that is what  they are- disappear from my society. I guess that I am going to keep thinking about a possible solution while I am doing a queue, just to buy a hot dog:

-Do you want me to put everything[2] on?

-Yeah, well, put everyth…NOOO! Not mustard! Without mustard! I hate mustard!

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[2] Everything: salad, different sauces, tiny French fries, cheese, even bacon or jam if you pay more.

Hannibal Lecter…or Horrible Lecture?

From a desperate, outstanding and even philosophical point of view our nation is swimming within deep waters of unconsciousness because of a simple little thing: commitment. If you know that Education is the key to rescue and build a society, why do not we all commit to Education? Simple.

If you turn your head to the left, you will notice that someone wants to be a doctor. If you turn your head to the right you will notice that others just want to be engineers or lawyers or psychologists. What is it about Education? Why not? Life is not about the salary, God dammit! Probably the word Education has the face of Hannibal Lecter or something like that. If that is the case, then I am ok with them, DO NOT GET CLOSER TO HANNIBAL!  Fortunately, Education does not have a horrible face. Maybe a horrible lecture, but not a Hannibal Lecter’s goal within the word itself. Perhaps the wrong conception about learning, making a mistake in front of an audience or even having a horrible teacher, who gives pathetic lectures, could have affected the way you get into Education.

A fictional character such as Hannibal Lecter was committed to his monstrous goal: eating other humans. Do you see? A COMMITTED GUY! Maquiavelic and grotesque…but committed at the end. In real life, our teachers and professors across the country, should be committed from the beginning of their careers as teacher trainees in order to be the best ones.  Engaged with excellence, professionalism and responsibility with the next generations.  

 Let’s make an effort not to look like monsters for students, let’s try to give our best performances ever to avoid horrible lectures among a learning environment.

When we are kids we just notice heroes or monsters. That is it. If your mom hits you or throws you a shoe (because you gave her a reason…), she is the monster of the day and your father is your hero. In an equal turn of events, the other way around is surprisingly shocking. If you have a father that at some point during your life, yell at you or throw you a shoe, he would be the monster of the movie, ergo, you mother or grandmother or sister or aunt or teacher or girlfriend (at such a young age, you bastard!) or even the lady who cleans the house would be your hero. What about a teacher saving your day? 

Imagine the power of teaching, destroying wrong conceptions about being teachers or just to teach, taking away the mask of Hannibal Lectur… I MEAN! Horrible Lecter…I MEAN! Well you know what I am trying to tell you! So let’s save our country, our society and our world from those monsters that do not help us to believe in teaching as the key to solve our reality. Are you hungry… Hanni… I MEAN…Honey? 

Teleportation

It was fun to imagine a picture with people that I like, music that I love, blood and an incredible laughter of my soul, all in the same image while having my English class. After being tied by the anthem of normality, since a good friend played “Violet hill” on the radio, I stood strong, even though I was tied.

Because I am indifferent to Rock music, I did not think about anything else.  Should I love Violet or Red wine?  A silly thought came to my mind as fast as the flash of a Venezuelan journalist’s camera in a protest. Red wine instead of yellow, blue and red plus eight white stars? That hell yeah! Wait…what? Are you saying that the “Rock system” is watching me from its window-pain? Suck it! I have my wisdom. 

My good friend played a second song, named “Uprising”. Believe me. I was tied with Rock and Roll-belts all over my body and my chest was pressed against the floor. Obviously I had to raise up! Just a powerful thought came to my mind: -Colombian music, save me! Wait a minute…I am not bleeding. My ears are not bleeding. Hhhmmmm… -What that hell? Colombian music, save me! “Con sentimieeeeennnnntoooo” or in this context: “With a lot of feeeeeeeling…”

Shit! Out of nowhere, something grabbed me. Tentacles. Like the ones from the ancient Greek octopus named “The KRACKEN”, that held me back one more time. My good friend played a third song, “Land of confusion”. No! I am not confused! This is my land. And this is my thought. Tentacles…good bye! I teleported myself into a different classroom, same classmates, same professor and the same fat cats with the same heart-attacks. I grabbed the radio, played a song and the room started to fill up with blood. Blood out of their ears? Interesting.

Wait a minute…my professor’s ears are not bleeding. She is laughing with me. All of them are closing their eyes, bleeding and complaining, but she is not. She is smiling at me. The flash has finished. I teleported again to “normality”. Nobody is bleeding. Colombian music, thank you. No tentacles. No belts. No wires or chains of Rock and Roll. My friend has finished with his songs. The whole classroom should be happy that I was not in charge of the radio. I would have been cleaning the floor with a mop, for a long time   Would I teleport again? Let’s wait for the next song and I will let you know. The violet color has won to the other three ones that no one represents. Everyone has teleported to other places. That makes me have a heart-attack, even though I have no heart. Colombian music, save me! Again…

WACHU- WACHU

Ever since we live in a Latin- American society, it is difficult for us, more than to any others, to understand how hard it is to speak another language. I am not writing about Japanese (an ancestral lingua), Portuguese (a bakery lingua), Russian (a vodka lingua), or Spanish itself (in a contradictory way, the most complex of all), I am referring to English. Wachu Wachu Wachu Wachu Wachu.

 Actually, this is not even a word, it is just the way people who do not handle any knowledge of English, refer to those who can do it. Wachu is phonetically, how non-speaker with a certain facility to ignore things, laugh about those who try to communicate with people from other parts of the world. In this special case, with “the Yankees”.

 Every time that, as Venezuelan, you say something orally in a code that the listener do not understand, it is the listener who says:

-Sorry, are you speaking to me…in Japanese or Chinese?

Probably, this is because we tend to mock about Asian people, since there is no grammar or phonetic relationship at all with Spanish language (apart that they all look alike). 

There was upon a time that, I was talking to a friend, a beautiful girl, native Spanish speaker and a classmate passed by. He told me something in English and, obviously, I replied the comment… IN ENGLISH!!!

As soon as I finished the little dialogue, I heard the beautiful girl laughing. I asked her:

-Hey, what happened? 

And she said… -Nothing, it is just hilarious listening to both of you wachu- wachu- wachu- wachu…

Honestly, I was stocked. Did I get mad? No. But made me realize about how powerful it is, to manage a “wachu wachu” code. What if we learn a third language? Super wachu- wachu- wachu mode? I do not know. But must be related to something like that. As a matter of fact, I do not consider Chinese or Japanese speakers saying something, with a listener not getting the message and, that listener saying: 

-What did you say? Are you speaking to me…in Spanish or even Spanglish?

  Why do I think about this? Simple. “”Eagle does not hunt flies” (a silly/ powerful translation from the Spanish saying “Águila no caza mosca”)

Japanese people have many important things to do (I believe this) rather than wasting time making fun of their peers. They just say: -I am sorry, repeat once again, please.

Maybe it is the weather, the sun, the amount of people, I DO NOT KNOW! That they do not waste time as Latin people. Wachu Wachu Wachu Wachu…Let’s move on!

And what about the acquisition of a second language? In the case of English, now you are able to watch on T.V, this famous guy named “Wachu”, promoting an online- course of English, speaking and acting like if he were an “expert” speaking the English language.

From singing a stupid song “focused” on prepositions: -“The book is on the table, ta-ble, table. The book is-on-the-ta-ble”, until the not-understanding –at –all meaning of a sentence as “Make my day”. Turn into “Coman Mamey”. Phonetically, a possible relationship. Grammatically, Semantically, 

Pragmatically, Economically, Logically, any-other –LLY, like Dolly the Sheep, I do not know^[1] : stupid. 

[1] Bad joke of the day! 

Because of this guy, people do not care about the power of being bilingual, rather than just thinking about “earning more money in the future by speaking English”,   getting married with a rich old guy from another English speaking country (in the case of female gender), getting married with a rich old lady (in the case of the male gender), it does not matter if she speaks Spanish: -Please GOD, send her!!!- Sorry about that, let me go back to the point…

  So, “wachu- wachu”, a reality that we, as bilingual people, must handle in our Venezuela. What should Japanese or Chinese people handle on the other side of the planet? Interesting question my friends…see you… wachu- wachu- wachu- wachu- wachu…

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The lost “book”

A book fell down from the table. A little girl picked it up, put it back and ran away. “I did not see drawings at all.”  She said to herself. “I need to learn how to read, probably that is the reason why I do not understand anything. Just drawings, drawings, and drawings…jejeje” The girl is only five years old. Her name is Tibisay. She has an older brother, Ignacio, who is the owner of the book.

After three days, a nightmare began to him. “-Where is my book?” yelled the boy after coming from school. “I do not know Ignacio, I haven’t seen it” replied Tibisay. He spent a whole week looking for his book.  He was really worried because it was a gift from his grandfather.  “Such a bad memory I have. I do not know where I could have left it”. Ignacio decided not to tell his parents, besides his grandfather, about the missing book because he felt embarrassed. So, he considered to talk with his friends at school.

Meanwhile, Tibisay was decided to help his older brother to find the book from the beginning. She chose to look inside the house. Her grandfather, the one who was in charge of her, started to wonder about the possible location of his granddaughter, after finishing the newspaper of the day. 

“-Tibiiiiiii…Tibiiiiii…where are you?” he looked for minutes without knowing about her. 

“-Tibiiiii…come on! Where are you?” he asked once again with a little of fear around his tone. Then, out of nowhere, he heard a softly “-bussyyyy” from Tibisay. “Coming here, young lady! Tell me what you are doing.” But he heard a second “    -busyyyyyyy”

While this was happening at home, during the day Ignacio asked his friends about the book.   “ -No, I am sorry”. He received this answer most of the time. Even those who were not totally friend of him, did not know anything about it. “-What am I going to do? My grandpa gave it to me for my birthday. How could I have lost it? ” As soon as he was saying that, someone in the distance said:

 -Keep looking pedestrian boy! A blurry shadow of a man swiping the floor with a broom appeared. It was Jeff, the Janitor. “-Hey, Janitor. How did you call me before?” “-Pedestrian boy” he replied with a big smile on his face.

-But..bu…wait a minute…how did you…where did you learn that word?– a little astonished the boy asked. “-From your book, of course! jajaja”.  The janitor explained to Ignacio that, last week, because he was running to classes after practicing sports, he forgot his book at the dining hall. “A peculiar book that you are reading, kid. I wish that more kids were readers like you.” Ignacio was completely excited about having his book on his hands.  “-Thank you for keeping safe, Jeff”  “-Do not worry! Thanks to you. I learned a new word!”

After this, Ignacio went home right away to share his happiness with his little sister.

When he got home, he realized that his little sister was with their grandfather. He was in shocked, since he did not know what to say about the awkward situation with the book. At the moment, his grandfather said to him…

-“So you found it. Where was it?  The book?” by the sense of tone, he was trying to say something to Ignacio.  –Tha...book? What, why? Why do you think something happ…

He not even finished what he was saying when his grandfather interrupted him.

 “-Because Tibi told me. Now…I’m not mad at you for not telling me the truth. In fact, I am happy! ” -Really? But, why? Said Ignacio surprised. “-Well, you showed me that you care about that gift. Not only that but also that you share it with your sister. That’s why I have a mission for you. You’re going to teach her how to read. Ok?”

“–Sure grandpa! Tibisay, coming here.” He explained to his little sister about the book. “-This…is not a common book. This is a Dictionary.” 

As naive as young, she answered: “-Ahhhh, as the game that we play with our grandpa’ about drawing and then we have to…” “No. That is Pictionary. This is a Dictionary. We can use to look for words when do not know their meaning.” “-Mmm” replied the little girl.

“The next generation of readers and writers” said the grandfather to himself, smiling.

Tactical OPER-HUMOR-ATION

Since the president of the USA, Barack Obama, decided to call my country a “national threat”, I got scared, as much of the population within my country. Because I am not related to anything in terms of army, munitions, destruction or war, I do not believe that I am going to be really helpful for my country, in a surreal war against “the Yankee Empire.”

But, what I can do, for real, is to offer myself as a voluntary translator, after the poor neurolinguistic situation that, as Venezuelan, we are dealing with. Taking into account that the youth do not know how to write, how to speak, how to behave politely and being a literate man, if someone tells you that is coming to your nation to destroy you at least you want to expect your people to understand that the situation is not easy to handle.

From speaking to writing, I am ready to stand up and fight against the power. Knowledge, discussion, jokes, bad jokes, a good translation, a bad translation, uses of sayings, fucking phrasal verbs, all these are my weapons against anyone who wants to defeat me.

The first step that I took, would be (actually I would say…)

: “-Rrrruuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn, gringos are cominnnng!!!”  (Of course, If I saw them coming…to me).

Now, since the living in Venezuela is being difficult to handle, because of economic and political reasons, our dear president Nickolas Maduro needs to understand that, for anyone who is not a military or connected to military issues, salary (whether regular payment or lower) is not enough to make it.

That is why, as Venezuelan, you have to look for a second way to make some money. This, without being the most loyal citizen of your nation or the highest traitor of your land…within your land.

In order to make it through my current situation (no money in my pocket), I would like to offer my services as a Spanish middle class translator, to any American who does not understand a shit about my beloved Venezuela. I am honest about this, a middle class service, because…after the first shot I heard…, I will go out running (Obviously).

But do not worry, my president. After playing Counter Strike 1.6 for so long, watching Die Hard (I,II,III AND IV) the whole 007 collection and Taken (again…I, II and III), I am ready, as a patriot that I am ,to do my intelligence high-level work. Doing horrible translations, taking them to empty supermarkets to make them suffer, as the other half of the population that suffer with “desabastecimiento” AND DO NOT SUPPORT YOU, MY PRESIDENT.

 I would say, as a possible strategy (my own counter-attack movement!):

1)      –I am sorry! There is no water! (And I would give them gasoline, a.k.a “gas”, instead of whiskey).

2)      -I am sorry! There is no pancakes! (and I would give them “casabe” for breakfast)

3)      –I am sorry! This is it! (And I would explain to them that, there is no relation at all with the Michael Jackson’s movie but, there’s no products itself, because of lack of production in my nation).

4)      –I am sorry! There is no off (mosquitoes repellent) and I would take them to lakes, rivers, pipes, riachuelos, canals where Chikungunya’s sickness, as a national action weapon, would neutralize, at least for three weeks any American movement, against my land, dear president.

5)      I am sorry! Only Meridiano Television! (I would tell them that only THAT cannel broadcast Major League Baseball).

6)      I’m sorry, but that is a two- way Street! (Since the holes in the whole road-system in Venezuela, because Venezuelan drivers suffer about them, too.)

7)      –But is true, sorry! (Because of OpenEnglish courses and Wachu- the main character in those commercials on TV- I would tell them that, it is a plan from CIA- which marines did not know- to make Venezuelan society poorest, according to their fucking prices).

8)       “-Yes, I am Chavez and you are Chavez, too!” I am sorry. (I would say that this is a lie, the ex-president died and that, it is only a mental strategy to make them think about “Chavez is alive” and hidden at some MERCAL –like Osama Bin Laden in Irak, before he was found and murdered).

9)      –I am sorry! But “this is my English, is not very good looking” (as Celia Cruz said long time ago! Thank you!)

10)  –I am sorry! But destroy the piiiiiiiccctureeeeeessss!!!! (I would tell them that any poster related to presidential elections, major campaigns, senators and so on… are a secret military code  from Venezuelan army to indicate enemies’ location. Of course, this is bullshit!!! But walls and buildings across the country would be cleaner than ever).

11)  –I am sorry! Pay attention! No! Pay attention! (When you, as president of Venezuela, would put on air you national transmissions, I would tell them that there are subliminal messages within it. So they would be listen four, even five hours of your transmissions, as Venezuelan population itself).

12)   –I am sorry! That is not a real mission! (I would tell them that eeeeeeevery mission, it is a social program and no missions at all, as military or religious one are known around the world).

13)  –I am sorry! I do not know! (when they asked me about food supplies to find)

14)  “-I do not know!” (When they told me that they need medical supplies).

15)  “-I do not know!” (When they needed good translators).

16)  –Look for in Panama! (I know that they are good Venezuelan translators over there).

17)  “-I do not know!” (When they needed to solve any problem related to the “Sistema Marginal de Divisas”)

18)  -Fuck you, bitch! (Since I really would not know how to solve any problem related to the “Sistema Marginal de Divisas”)

19)  ”) -“That is a virus!” (I would tell them that, since the recording of Hugo Chavez’s voice within our national anthem, played -unfortunately- at every institution controlled by the government, that “version” is a virus created by the Venezuelan Government to attack any imperial computer which would like to use our online-Venezuelan connection  service. Of course, this is bullshit! But they would get really scared)

You see.. my plan…my effort, my word, my translation.. to help my nation to survive against the attack of the “empire”…and you? What would be your movement? Your tactical humor-peration?

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