Las Malas Lenguas

Las Malas Lenguas by Orquesta Dee Jay

As a huge fan of trombone based bands such as Orquesta Dee Jay, I always get a kick out of Rafael de Jesus’s work on the album ‘Pa Alante con la Orquesta Dee Jay.’ In my quest to learn more about Rafael, I came across an interview on Jazz Con Clave where the sonero admits not knowing much Spanish while he rocked songs such as Las Malas Lenguas, Campesino, and Te Triago. My favorite part of Las Malas Lenguas is how Rafeal emerges from the piano solo and trombone section on minute 3:24 to finish off the song with a commanding soneo. I would have never imagined a performance like that coming from someone who didn’t master the language. The interview presents an insight into the life of this singer which has shed light on how language has helped shape who I am, especially now that I live in a Spanish speaking country.

Similar to Rafael de Jesus, I grew up in a Spanish household. Like most Latinos, our home was a place where we mostly listened to Spanish, only speaking the language around Mamita Amada who can barely ramble the days of the week in English. So in my early years, I developed a good ear for the sound, which triggered the Paisa accent once I began speaking more Spanish, allowing me to more easily fool folks just like Rafael did. Luckily when I met my wife, she didn’t speak a lick of English, so out of necessity I was forced to finally learn to speak Spanish. Even so, my childhood Espanglish slips out from time to time. I’m often a bit self-conscious about my language difficulties as I tend to focus far too much energy in Medellin on blending in.

A comment made by a friend made me think if I should have placed the effort to write this blog in Spanish instead of English. I am of course writing about music interpreted in Spanish. As a hyphenated Colombian (or American depending on the context), I can’t deny that English is the more natural form of processing information for me. In Spanish, I’m always stuck within the confines of my Espanglish upbringing, wondering whether I had just made up the word I was attempting to communicate.

One of the reasons why I identify with salsa clasica is the artists’ use of Espanglish or in my wife’s words, poor Spanish. We once took on the task of writing the lyrics to an entire album for a friend as a Christmas gift and my wife, as a Spanish teacher, couldn’t help inserting the correct grammar, concerned that our friend would learn improper Spanish. Looking back I wish we had written the lyrics to that album just as they were.

Colombians, particularly those from the interior, have the reputation of having as near close to perfect Spanish as there could be in the Americas. Probably more of a self proclamation but I do notice quite a few people speaking what my wife characterizes as Español teorico. It’s often quite a task for me to figure out what Paisas are saying. This may be where my self-consciousness originates.

That pride for properness compelled my mother to criticize Puerto Rican Spanish, often directing her jokes at my brother who would butcher the language far worse than any of our Puerto Rican friends. As a kid her jokes seemed rather funny and I often repeated them to the delight of my fellow Colombian friends. It’s only as an adult living in a Spanish speaking country that I realize how my language limitations put me closer to the Puerto Rican experience. My childhood naivety and my mother’s ignorance prevented us from not understand the politics behind the Puerto Rican plight and thus ours, as Latinos growing up in an American ghetto. On various occasions throughout the island’s history, attempts were made to change the official language from Spanish to English or Spanish and English. Combine this with a Puerto Rican’s ability to freely travel between the island and the U.S. mainland and you witness the development of a hybrid language.

Campesino by Orquesta Dee Jay

Language has always been a source of difficulty with my Espanglish background binding me between two forms of communication. It’s been one of my greatest advantages while simultaneously presenting a disadvantage. I can communicate with a larger number of people with my bilingual skills yet I don’t have a dominion over either language. This inquietud brought me to think of Rafael de Jesus. Just as he often had to ‘fake the funk’ on his understanding of the language, I too fill in the blanks with English words when I can´t complete a thought in Spanish.

The more I learn to better communicate in this language the more I can appreciate the ingenuity it takes to speak Espanglish, the more respect I have for soneros such as Rafael de Jesus who thrived in the lingual duality I live. Salsa clasica, along with my Colombian experience, has helped me accept my language skills not as a deficiency but rather a skillful art grown out of living in two distinct worlds.

I began this acceptance when realizing that language is merely a set of words, symbols and images. If you and I can understand that Gueso means bone does it really matter that it should be Hueso? Yesterday I made the common mistake three times within a half a minute of replacing the Spanish H with a G sound, even though I felt my wife’s corrective stare, as though my brain couldn’t accept the H being silent. I’ve learned to say disculpe instead of con permiso as they are used in different excuse me contexts. However, before learning their proper use, people would excuse me either way.

Te Traigo by Orquesta Dee Jay

Salsaclasica.com’s biography of Orquesta Dee Jay describes how:

“Orquesta Dee Jay was a unique band who did not put any of their music on paper. Their music was original and arrangements were created from jam sessions they had before rehearsals in the basement of De Jesus Bridal shop. ‘If it sounds good and it’s swingin’, the heck with it, let’s record it’ said George De Jesus.”

Espanglish is very much the same. If it sounds good then say it. There´s a sense of liberation in stepping outside the boundaries of strict Castellano and viewing speech merely as a form of communication, an imperfection heavily dependent upon a listener’s acceptance of what the sound represents. It’s the people that give words their authority not La Real Academia Española.

When I first started drafting blog entries, I tried to be as inclusive as possible by translating Spanish phrases where I thought suitable. A friend pointed out the inappropriateness of this technique, putting me on to how Junot Diaz in ‘The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao’ “weaves together Spanish, English, science fiction, and street language and doesn’t make any apologies. If you get it you get it, if not go find out. If you don’t then it’s just a reminder that all of our perspectives and all of our knowledge is always partial. We can never know the whole.”

Language should be open and spontaneous yet common enough so that one can be understood. As cognitive beings we often attach ourselves to words and their meanings more obstructively than most people realize. It’s normal for language to cause deep roots that define us but it should not be a source of limitation.  I hope to continue taking Spanish classes, partially because I enjoy the sound of Spanish but more importantly so I can improve my decoding ability for what my fellow Paisas are saying. I’m slowly accepting Espanglish as much a part of my identity as the light green house on Watson Street where I lived the important moments of my teenage years. Those classes should not be used to ease any discomfort at not knowing the official way of communicating as my ‘malas lenguas’ says much more about the richness of my experience, along with that of the Puerto Rican soneros, than what I can learn in any Spanish class.

Peace
DJ Walt

We're fortunate enough that Jerry Hernandez, the trombonist from Orquesta Dee Jay, has revived the band.  Here's La Nueva Orquesta Dee Jay performing Las Malas Lenguas.  If this band is ever in your neck of the woods, they are well worth the price of admission.

Live Performance of Las Malas Lenguas by La Nueva Orquesta Dee Jay