¿Como se dice 'rattlesnake' en Español?
I learned a new Spanish word on Saturday. At least, I learned how to read a sign using that word, so I'll consider it learned. You may have already guessed that the word is, indeed, rattlesnake, but did you know the Spanish equivalent, as far as I can tell, is vibora?
Matt and I went to this place called the Whoopee Bowl (I should have known, really, I should have), which bills itself as an antique shop. It's really just a giant warehouse full of junk, in the middle of nowhere, in the desert. Totally a wasted trip, but that's a different point altogether. So, here we are, pulling up into their parking area, and when we get out of the car we see a sign that says, "¡Cuidado! Vibora in area!" Strange mix of Spanish and English, I think, but I also think, "Hmmmm....Vibora looks a lot like 'viper,' doesn't it?" A few steps down the parking lot, we see a sign that says, "Caution! Rattlesnakes in area!" so it turns out my assumption was, indeed, correct.
Matt saw the first sign, the one in bastardized Spanglish, and asked what vibora means. I didn't tell him what I thought, because Matt really, really, really hates snakes. But when he saw the second sign, my cover was blown, and the truth was out in the open: We drove 20 miles into the desert to go to a snake pit full of junk. Dammit. I guess that's what happens when you pile up a shit ton of stuff in the middle of the desert.
The worst part? There was nothing even almost worth buying at that store, though there were, oddly enough, a few Nazi items that looked pretty legitimate. Only one thing made me pause and look twice - there was a set of candlestick holders, made of brass, I think, and the bases of the holders were swastikas. The funny thing is, I didn't wonder why they were trying to sell Nazi candlesticks; I only wondered how they ended up in Canutillo, Texas.
I decided it probably all started with some old soldier living in the area, who had been in World War II and brought home some souveniers (there were also a set of poker chips, in a wooden case, emblazoned with swastikas, and a Nazi war eagle made out of what felt like wrought iron, that one might hang above a door). This old soldier, I figure, died at some point, alone and in a VA nursing home, and his kids just dumped his stuff at the junk store, for whatever they could get for it, without ever bothering to go through it and see what was there, or ever care about what it might have meant to him. I make up stories like that, you see. I hope the real deal was a lot less sad than my version.
Today, we went to the outdoor flea market and the El Paso Arts, Crafts and Antiques Market. The flea market was choc-a-bloc with junk, junk, junk...even for a flea market. And so many of the vendors had the same things, it made me think they all had the same sources. Matt said they probably all go to Juarez and buy the same stuff, then cart it back over the border and sell it to folks over here. The Mexican candy booth was interesting, but today I didn't quite feel up to the adventure, especially after seeing the chili-coated sour apple sucker. Sour apple? Great! Coated in chili powder? What the fuck?
Just when I think I have a handle on the place, they throw rattlesnakes, Nazi memorabilia and chili suckers at me. Oh, El Paso is going to take some getting used to.
Matt and I went to this place called the Whoopee Bowl (I should have known, really, I should have), which bills itself as an antique shop. It's really just a giant warehouse full of junk, in the middle of nowhere, in the desert. Totally a wasted trip, but that's a different point altogether. So, here we are, pulling up into their parking area, and when we get out of the car we see a sign that says, "¡Cuidado! Vibora in area!" Strange mix of Spanish and English, I think, but I also think, "Hmmmm....Vibora looks a lot like 'viper,' doesn't it?" A few steps down the parking lot, we see a sign that says, "Caution! Rattlesnakes in area!" so it turns out my assumption was, indeed, correct.
Matt saw the first sign, the one in bastardized Spanglish, and asked what vibora means. I didn't tell him what I thought, because Matt really, really, really hates snakes. But when he saw the second sign, my cover was blown, and the truth was out in the open: We drove 20 miles into the desert to go to a snake pit full of junk. Dammit. I guess that's what happens when you pile up a shit ton of stuff in the middle of the desert.
The worst part? There was nothing even almost worth buying at that store, though there were, oddly enough, a few Nazi items that looked pretty legitimate. Only one thing made me pause and look twice - there was a set of candlestick holders, made of brass, I think, and the bases of the holders were swastikas. The funny thing is, I didn't wonder why they were trying to sell Nazi candlesticks; I only wondered how they ended up in Canutillo, Texas.
I decided it probably all started with some old soldier living in the area, who had been in World War II and brought home some souveniers (there were also a set of poker chips, in a wooden case, emblazoned with swastikas, and a Nazi war eagle made out of what felt like wrought iron, that one might hang above a door). This old soldier, I figure, died at some point, alone and in a VA nursing home, and his kids just dumped his stuff at the junk store, for whatever they could get for it, without ever bothering to go through it and see what was there, or ever care about what it might have meant to him. I make up stories like that, you see. I hope the real deal was a lot less sad than my version.
Today, we went to the outdoor flea market and the El Paso Arts, Crafts and Antiques Market. The flea market was choc-a-bloc with junk, junk, junk...even for a flea market. And so many of the vendors had the same things, it made me think they all had the same sources. Matt said they probably all go to Juarez and buy the same stuff, then cart it back over the border and sell it to folks over here. The Mexican candy booth was interesting, but today I didn't quite feel up to the adventure, especially after seeing the chili-coated sour apple sucker. Sour apple? Great! Coated in chili powder? What the fuck?
Just when I think I have a handle on the place, they throw rattlesnakes, Nazi memorabilia and chili suckers at me. Oh, El Paso is going to take some getting used to.