Ñe’engakuéra Paraguaya*

Today´s Post: Paraguayan Sayings

In April, G-31 (my Peace Corps cohort) returned to our training communities near Guarambaré for in-service training, three days of language and technical training designed to assist us now that we have settled into our sites. It was a joy to see my host family again and I benefited from having another go in language class now that I have experience speaking Guaraní on a daily basis. The language teachers were, as usual, great.

One of my favorite units entailed practicing Paraguayan sayings. I found practicing Spanish refranes useful in high school; doing so can enable one to learn new words in a fun and culturally relevant context. Paraguayan dichos offer an extra twist. They are often in Spanish-Guaraní jopara (mixture) and thus require comfort with both languages. Many take the form of: “_____” said the “_____,” like these favorites of mine:

“Problema tapépe he’i pruebera.” =” There are problems in the road,” said the soothsayer.

“Jajatopata lata’ipe he’i la kavaju burrope.” = “See you later in the little can,” said the horse to the burro.

“A cada son sus gustos he’i kure jurugui okamby va’ekue.” = “To each his own,” said the one who kissed the pig.

“Eñemboi, eñemboi he’i oporo’uséva.” = “Take your clothes off, take your clothes off,” said the one who wanted to have sex.

“Ejehecha nde, he’i espejo vendeha.” = “Look at yourself,” said the mirror seller.

I’ll let you guess what the metaphorical meanings are. Other sayings and idioms don’t take the form. Here are some others I especially enjoyed:

“Bigote y problema solo nosotros lo creamos.” = Only we create mustaches and problems.

“Hendy kavaju resa,” “Ipo´i la piola,” y “Haku la yvy.” = The horse’s eyes are on fire, the rope is thinning, and the earth is hot (all of these mean the same thing).

“Ndaijaikuaái iro’ypa tea imbyry’ái.” = We don’t know whether we’re cold or hot.

“Jagua ruguaicha hory.” = Happy like a dog’s tail.

What do you think these sayings mean? And finally, one of our teachers taught us some dirty jokes. The foulest is simply not to be published on the internet. I will repeat another, however, which takes the form of a Cacique pun. Caciques are native Paraguayan Indians, and they (somewhat objectionably) show up in jokes like country yokels do in some American jokes. In the following joke, what you need to know is that, in Spanish, “Ámame” is a command meaning “love me” while in Guaraní, “Amáme” means “in the rain.” Here is the joke (in English, except for the pun):

“It’s raining very hard, so the Cacique and his Asunceña girlfriend are together in his house. She only wants to speak Spanish, but he doesn’t really understand it. During a moment of passion, she cries ‘Ámame!’ He promptly responds in Guaraní: ‘Nahániri, che rykuetama’ (‘No, I’ll get all wet!’).”

I laughed so hard when I heard that one, and have enjoyed retelling it since getting back to Prettyview.

Seven months into my time in Paraguay, my attitude toward Guaraní has really changed. When I received my assignment to Paraguay in February 2009, I was, frankly, a little frustrated about the language situation here. I felt that since I was already proficient in Spanish, it was a waste of time for me to go to a country where I would have to learn another language in scratch. Feeling unusually utilitarian, I thought to myself that it would be a waste of time to learn a language that isn’t really spoken anywhere outside of Paraguay. (My dad informs me that Guaraní did not make a list of the 130 most-spoken languages he saw.)

How differently do I feel now! Of course, it all has to do with where I am in the language-learning process. Though I’m far from fluent, I can now communicate pretty much whatever I want in Guaraní and get along in a one-on-one conversation with the Paraguayans I encounter normally. I still don’t really understand group conversations very well and have trouble tracking when Paraguayans communicate with each other. But my attitude is completely different. I now feel so lucky to have the opportunity to learn Guaraní. It’s a language unrelated to any other that I’ve encountered and understanding it has been a gratifying intellectual challenge. Learning Guaraní has challenged me to think differently about English, Spanish, and my own use of language. I would be ignorant of so many Guaraní-specific phenomena, like the jokes and sayings I’ve discussed; the names for many Paraguayan plants, animals, foods, and cultural artifacts; and many unique grammatical elements if I had never learned the language. And most of all, it’s an honor to speak to the people who share their world with me in their own language. More than almost anything I can do, I think it shows my goodwill and interest in Paraguayans beyond, well, my own utilitarian goals. Paraguayan’s faces often light up when they discover that I can speak Guaraní, and I think that doing so has made me a more effective extensionist, even when my speech is vai-vai (ugly-ugly).

My only worry is how strange my Spanish is going to be when I go home. What will American Spanish-speakers think when my Spanish is sprinkled with avei, che, nde, amoite, ko’ape, pora, vai, ikatu, kuehe, yvyramata, he, and heta (also, I, you, over there, right here, good, bad, to be able to, yesterday, tree, delicious, and lots) – the words that I most often accidentally use when trying to speak pure Spanish? And then there is the misuse of guapo and suppressing the “vos” form. Or re-learning genders after making everything feminine!

All I have to say is “E’a!” (Oh my!)

*Unfortunately, in this post and others, I’m portraying Guaraní words without nasal accents over vowels (there should be one over the second “e” in “Ñe’enga” for example). There is most certainly a way to make a computer display the accent, but I haven’t figured it out yet.