re: Oogo Chavez page 5

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cognoscenti who didn't know scenti**, **This was meant as deconstruction, not a pun or double entendre.

So, ju are no' callin' them coños. That is a good thin', señor. Perhaps, if ju make a small contribución to the Policeros Benevolence Fun', we will no' have to estrip search you again.
Interesting story, but I can't get past the part about removing your short-haired wig.

I have never used drugs and was never a hippie but I did let my hair grow down past my shoulders. I was against the war once I decided we were losing and would not win, but not just because it was a war. And not because it was a civil war, if it was, because that doesn't make much difference to me if it is in the country's interests. Heck, several foreign countries took sides in the US Civil War, and I don't remember anyone saying that was intrinsically wrong.

Then I worked full-time in a political campaign, and rather than cut my hair, I bought a short haired wig. The campaign lasted about 10 weeks after I got involved, and we lost the Congressional primary by 4 votes out of 50,000 cast. We actually won by 6 votes on the first count, but after the full recount, including some paper ballots, we lost by 4. In the course of the recount, we found a whole stack of about 400 ballots that had never been counted, and when they were, in front of me, we were either tied or there was a margin of 1 for us or the leading opponent.
I felt that my hair length was my business and the US population had no right to expect me to cut it, so I wanted to keep it, but I'm not an ideologue so I was willing to wear the wig.
For furiners, like the Central American countries, I probably would have just gotten a haircut, but since I already had the wig, I for sure decided to wear it. And this was important in at least one country, maybe more. Several people told me that at the mountain entrance to Guatamala, where El Tapon starts, there was a big rock where the aduana agents would take boys and cut their long hair. I really would have disliked someone else insisting on it and doing it.

I saw it in the mirror, and I'm pretty sure my wig looked good in June or July when I bought it, but I wore it every day until September. Then I wore it every day from December 21 until May, and in January some time, I got off a bus and the kids flocked around me like kids might, and one or more yelled "Peluca, peluca!", which means wig. (Well, it actually means wig, wig, but maybe I don't need to mention that.) So I'm not sure if the border guards could tell, but even if they did, they probably thought I was bald or submitting to their rule sufficiently.The Communists had been robbing banks in Guatamala, wearing long haired wigs, and in a response although I may be confused about this I was told that the police started stopping Guatamalan boys with long hair on the street and cutting their hair. Also, they didn't like miniskirts, and they were stopping girls on the street, and cutting up their skirts, which would actually make them shorter, so that's why I think I was told or got the story wrong.

Also, the bank robbers were wearing wigs, and I thought that was known by everyone, so cutting real hair..well I guess it would make the ones with wigs stand out more. Maybe that was the idea. I'm told it didnt' work well because the boys wore hats and the girls wore something else until this period was over, which didn't take that long because public opinion was that it was foolish, or so my tale-teller told me.
Also, Costa Rica was trying to keep out people who wouldn't leave, mostly young Americans. So you allegedly had to have a plane ticket out of Costa Rica and one out of Panama, if you were young, before they would let you in. Even if you entered on foot, it seemed. That's what I was told, but at neither country did they ask to see the ticket, even though I had bought one. I miss Pan-Am. It had ticket offices and flights everywhere, so I could buy in Nicaragua a ticket from Panama to Costa Rica and on to Nicaragua, and I could return it for cash in the USA, which is where I went after Panama. I don't think there is any airline in the world where one could do that now, for these countries and for many others.
So I figured it might be best to seem to have short hair when entering Costa Rica and Panama, too. It was very hard to get from San Jose CR to the Panamanian border. The Pan Am highway was a semi-paved road the second half, and there was little traffic, and after the Volkswagon bus didn't see me, or passed without stopping (I was 50 feet from the road, but yelling, waving, and running to the road, but he was almost even with me when I saw him) I ended up taking the next ride in this semi-trailer truck that must have been going no more than
10 or 20 up this very long hill.
He didn't even like me, but after I helped him change the tire on his trailer, he was much nicer, and actually said I should stay at the same hotel he was, and he would continue the ride the next morning. But it was only 4 in the afternoon, and I got a ride to the border. The town there, on the CR side, had a power failure that night, but they had a generator for the movie theatre, and it seemed everyone went to the movie so I did too.

I think it was free. When I got to the hotel, for light there were candles in glasses on the floor of the hall every 10 or 15 feet, and I could just imagine what my mother would say about that. Even I know that is how fires start, so I paid attention to where the window in my room was, and slept well.
In the morning I walked 5 minutes to the border and got a ride with a guy in a cute blue mini-pickup truck. He turned out to a US soldier, stationed in Panama. He was from Puerto Rico, spoke English well, and had done almost 20 years in the army and had never been to the United States! I think he had been to Viet Nam though. Panama is pretty long, and his ride lasted 4 or 5 hours, maybe 8, because it was dark when we got to the Canal Zone. He took me to the hotel, maybe it was a YMCA, in the Canal Zone, and they wouldn't let me stay there because I didn't have something like a visa.

I had an American passport and the Canal Zone was basically American territory (long term lease) but I needed documents to stay overnight, and one could only get them if he was there for work or he was visiting someone who lived there. So instead he took me to Panama City to a hotel n'hood. Cheap ones, I asked for, and the room had a big fan in the ceiling, just like a 40's movie, a bathroom down the hall, and if you stood on the toilet, you could see the Pacific Ocean.
A day or two later, I left half of my stuff at the hotel they didn't charge and took the train from the Pacific side to the Atlantic side. Takes 3 hours iirc.
I left my lightened backpack at the railroad station, which was about
6 feet square they were nice and said I could leave it there soI could walk around with no luggage.
I went to the ship dock looking for a job. I boarded one ship but couldn't find anyone. The next ship (there was only one pier and only2 or 3 ships) was deserted too, until I found a Japanese guy comingout with a towel wrapped around him. I was so proud that I had learned Spanish pretty well, and I knew English and some Hebrew and some Yiddish, so I figured I could talk to him.. but the only word I could think of in Japanese was Sayonara. Which, because of the movie, had this enormous romantic connotation to it. I still don't know what the usual way to say good-bye is in Japanese, if it is that word or another.

And what good is good-bye when I wanted a job. (I probably also knew, from the I Love Lucy show, cio-cio-san, but that means darling, according to the show, and that wouldn't have helped either.) So I left. I was almost back to the base-end?, the start of the pier, when a jeep pulled up and a guard said something about the pier being restricted, but I was leaving anyhow, and he was not annoyed or anything. I wonder if he saw or knew about the rest of my walk.

Then I found the yacht club. I bought a coke and I sat there for 6 hours, on one coke. Every time some went to or left a yacht, I would go talk to him and ask if I could get a ride to the United States.

The trouble was that in 6 hours that day, and 4 hours the next, there were only about three people going to their yacht, their 3 yachts.

The first night, I don't know why I didnt' look for a hotel, but I found on two sawhorses sort of beside and behind the yacht club a stakck of about 10 6 or 8 foot x 4 foot pieces of corrugated galvanized steel sheeting. I pulled the top one off and made a lean-to, and I slept there. I didnt' wake up until 8, and I wouldn't be surprised if the owner of the yacht club noticed me. As you can tell from the story, people were friendly and cooperative and things were a lot more laid back than I think most places in the US. I wouldn't have had nerve enough to sleep just 15 feet from the back door of a US yacht club.The second day I sat there again, the tables looked out on the dock and on the water, and I was probably the only "customer" most of the time. Maybe the first day once, but after that they never came up to me to ask me if I wanted to buy something. And after about 2 hours a guy was going to or from his yacht and I asked if he could give me a ride to the United States. He said no, so I asked him if he could give me a ride to the Atlantic side.

He said yes. He said he'd be ready to leave in 3 hours. So I had time to go to the duty-free store zone, and I looked at things, and the Olympus SP camera that I had bought in Chicago 5 months earlier, for 70 dollars plus 2% tax was 67 dollars there. Really not worth it, especially since you can't take the camera with you and have to rely that they will deliver it to your plane when you are leaving.Then I picked up my backpack at the train station, and I took two dramamina, (that I had bought after I got a ride in Mexico in the back of a small covered truck on top of refrigerated meat, going down a long very winding road to Oaxaca, where the smell and no window almost made me sick). I had told the guy I knew how to sail, so I at least didnt' want to vomit. WEll, it turned out that the entrance to the canal was as smooth as glass for at least a mile square.

There wasn't a wave between the yacht club and the first lock. I had been told that yacht owners were happy to take riders because they needed 4 people to catch the ropes that tied them in place so they wouldnt' bump against the hard sides of the locks. But he had 2 sons and a nephew, so he didnt' want me to do anything. In the middle, his wife served lunch, just hotdogs and buns and maybe baked beans. I thanked him as graciously as I could, and went back to the hotel where the rest of my luggage was, stayed one more night and I think I flew back to Miami and Texas the next day.
So I wore the wig ALL the time, except when sleeping. And it wasn't an expensive one anyhow. Kanekalon. Do they still use that word, that brand? I still have the wig. I think a bunch of "hairs" have fallen out. I should wear it some day, although now I have a full beard and any color change will be far more noticeable, since it used to be longer than my sideburns. But it was pretty much the right color, and so far, I'm 60 but my hair is still the same brown color it was 40 years ago.
Hope I didnt drag this one out too long.
If you are inclined to email me
for some reason, remove NOPSAM :-)
Students: Are you brave enough to let our tutors analyse your pronunciation?
Gentille alouette.
La Marseillaise?
Spanish: Zorro (the fox so cunning and free) and Gordo (nickname for Sgt. Garcia).
I guess you didn't know that thousands of Mexicans were forcefully deported from Los Angeles in the 1930s.

Well, that isn't something I have heard about, no. Can you let me know where I can search and read about it?
You see, that was the period in which many US dust bowl refugees fled their homes for the fruit farms ... between migrant workers of all sorts out there, to be followed by the internment of Nisei in the early '40s.

It was an attempt to save jobs for "real Americans". The deportees may or may not have been legal residents or citizens of the USA.

** DAVE HATUNEN (Email Removed) ** * Tucson Arizona, out where the cacti grow * * My typos & mispellings are intentional copyright traps *
My theory is that in de Gaulle's time, most newscasters ... of origin and it's easy to verify the approximately-correct pronunciation.

That doesn't explain "el-Kayduh". Numerous Arabs have said it on American TV many times, but it's still "el-Kayduh" to us.

Which of these is right, and which is wrong?
Maybe it's our way of dissing them, like the Iranian Ibbydibbydawb.

If you are inclined to email me
for some reason, remove NOPSAM :-)
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I think it was "goûtez bien".

"Goûtons voir"? That's how I learned it as a little child. Many years later, at a party, not having thought ... Ronde Goûtons voir si le vin est bon Chevaliers de la Table Ronde Goûtons voir si le vin est bon

Thanks. "Goûtons voir" is the one - I had checked one of my song books in between too. The version you found has two verses I didn't know.

Rob Bannister
How do you reconcile that with the news's pronunciation of Pinochet, which most have for years repeatedly pronounced as if ... Peenoshet as often as the correct pronunciation, which is of course as it is spelled, using a Spanish "i", Peenochet.[/nq]We've had this discussion before (and not so long ago either), but what do you regard as the "correct" pronunciation? If you mean the way it would be pronounced in Madrid, then what is the relevance? If you mean the way it is pronounced in Chile, then all four possible combinations of Spanish and French -ch- and -t are heard, and none of them is regarded as "incorrect". (The vowels are pronounced as you'd expect for a Spanish word.) The dictator was of French origin, so it's not so unreasonable to treat it as a French name.

Second, Chilean ch is often much closer to English sh than the ch of Madrid or Mexico City ever is. Third, final consonants are often omitted in Chilean Spanish. My impression is that the commonest combination in Chile is Spanish ch with French t, but, as I said, all four combinations are "correct".
U.S. newsreaders always called Charles de Gaulle "Charlz," not "Sharl." They gave his given name its American pronunciation. But they ... keen to replicate Spanish pronunciation in our English. In fact, we'd make everything bilingual in this country if we could.

Phooey. Your theory might be correct; I doubt it. But that's no evidence.

(How often have you heard "Vincente Fox," although his name was "Vicente"?)

Americans have not "always hated the French," have not always mispronounced "Charles de Gaulle," and certainly have not "always loved Hispanics and their culture"!
(Bush is famous for speaking and mispronouncing Spanish. Jackie Kennedy was famous for speaking French beautifully. JFK said "Ich bin ein Berliner" poorly, but to great acclaim.)
I studied French (in schools wherein Spanish wasn't even offered) and taught myself Spanish, and I find it strange that one who's studied Spanish should be blind to the incidence of prejudices for and against both cultures, but especially against Spanish speakers. And I don't mean to imply that only English-speaking Americans share all four prejudices!
When I studied German, the professor made a point of explaining that, unlike English, German respected foreign pronunciation. It's easy to see where he was coming from. Watch football sometime. Mispronouncing players' names seems to be taken as a badge of honor.

I think the issue here is more one of American nationalism that we'll pronounce it however we please than of prejudice towards or against other cultures.
Also, things change. Our attitude towards aural vs. printed news is evolving, and so is our attitude towards announcers whose pronunciation conflicts with others', especially when we hear radio shows about the news interrupted by the news!
NPR has staffers who specialize in getting the word out on how to pronounce unfamiliar names and words. I remember when not knowing was a sign of literacy. You got your news from the New York Times , not your elocutionist.

Marshall Price of Miami
Known to Yahoo as d021317c
Students: We have free audio pronunciation exercises.
followed by the internment of Nisei in the early '40s.

And Issei, Sansei, Kibei, etc.
Issei: first generation
Nisei: second generation
Sansei: third generation
Kibei: of Japanese descent, born in the U.S. and educated in Japan

Marshall Price of Miami
Known to Yahoo as d021317c
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