¡No patees el pesebre!
The holidays always bring a good deal of special words and phrases along with them. First and foremost is the word Navidad, which comes from natividad, meaning “birth,” and is almost used exclusively to refer to the birth of Jesus. So as you might know, unless you have been living on another planet, the Spanish word for Christmas is Navidad, when Christians all over the world celebrate the birth of Jesus. The word is also used in its plural form, navidades, and usually refers to the holiday period between Christmas and the day of the Magi, on January 6th. It can also apply to the “pre-Christmas season” generally known as the posadas, those traditional celebrations that go on for nine days, from the 16th to the 24th of December. The posadas are great fun, depending on which ones you go to. They all start out with a theatrical representation of Mary and Joseph’s search for emergency lodgings, in view of Mary’s advanced state of pregnancy. They are turned out repeatedly until they are finally granted asylum in somebody’s barn, where the manger was waiting. I, as a child, always thought mangers were peculiarly religious furniture, but as it turns out they are box-like constructions that farmers put hay in for feeding animals, like cows and horses. Trouble is I never lived on a farm, but I had heard that song “Away, in a Manger” about a million times. So, part of the Christmas vocabulary is pesebre, which means “manger.”
Pesebre, of course, is loaded with religious connotations in Spanish, especially Mexican Spanish. And these connotations can be found in everyday speech that has nothing to do with Christmas. Take patear el pesebre, for example: to kick the manger. This expression roughly boils down to biting the hand that feeds you, or doing something equally as unpleasant or uncivilized. “No patees el pesebre,” someone might say to a journalist who takes monetary compensation from certain well-placed authorities and then decides to go on and criticize the President. (It’s just an example; I wouldn’t dream of suggesting that this despicable practice ever existed in Mexico.)
Another similar expression based on the same idea is “ser (algo) tan feo como pegarle a Jesús.” If somebody is very aesthetically challenged, like the Huchback of Notre-Dame, for example, you might say he es tan feo como pegarle a Jesús.
And returning to the pesebre, if we want to let on that someone knows where to go to get money or food, we say that he knows where the manger is, or that Fulano conoce el pesebre, or that he knows dónde está el pesebre.
So, Mary and Joseph are installed in the barn, and Jesus is born once more in the hearts and minds of billions of Christians all over the world, especially in Mexico, birthplace of the Virgin of Guadalupe, Patron Saint of the Americas. This is achieved through the posadas. But these posadas have evolved over the years, and they frequently decompose into life-threatening brawls I wouldn’t wish on anybody who pays their taxes and, on the whole, behaves themselves. The last posada is on Christmas Eve, the eve — naturally — of Jesus’ birth. In Spanish, Christmas Eve is Nochebuena, “the Good Night.” Besides the excellent beer that takes its name from Christmas Eve and is only sold before, during, and after the holiday season, there is also the flor de nochebuena, known in English as the poinsettia, named for the U.S. ambassador to Mexico, Joel R. Poinsett, deceased in 1851. This plant is indigenous to Mexico and Central America. Its original name in náhuatl escapes me, but perhaps someone will e-mail us and let us know. There is also a brand of cheese that bears the Spanish word for Christmas Eve, but — unlike the beer — it is available year round.
Another holiday treat Mexico has given as a gift to the world is turkey, guajolote, also known as pavo, thanks to the fact that the Spanish couldn’t pronounce the Mexican word (the crop of adventurers who sailed with Cortés and other even less palatable soldiers of fortune later on, weren’t exactly PhD candidates from Salamanca). If you’re wondering why one calls it “turkey” in English, it’s probably due to the fact that it was commonly imported through Turkey, the country. I have no idea why.
And then there’s the piñata, used basically on two occasions: Christmas (including the posadas) and birthdays (at any time of year). “Dale, dale, dale, no pierdas el tino…” These words are used to incite, excite, and even poke fun at the dizzy, blindfolded breakers of piñatas. The piñata has all kinds of goodies inside, and to get at them, one has to break it with a stick. They were originally made of baked clay (like flower pots), and when they broke, they did so generously. But now they are mostly concocted out of papier mâché, and you have to practically beat the living daylights out of them before you get one single snickers. Note: the traditional fare is fruit and penny candy (known as colación, given in little baskets), but the actual contents vary according to the neighborhood. If someone got a tremendous beating at the hands of many, we say that lo agarraron de piñata. Well, I’ve been going on and on here, and so they don’t make a piñata out of me, I’ll have to say Happy Holidays! The first up is Muertos (November 2nd), then comes December 12th, the Virgin of Guadalupe’s day, and then the posadas, followed by Navidad and Año Nuevo. (By the way: New Year’s Eve is Nochevieja, but not too many people use the word. If you want to ask someone what they’re doing on New Year’s Eve, you can just ask: “¿Qué vas a hacer para Año Nuevo?”, or “¿Cómo vas a pasar Año Nuevo?” They’ll understand perfectly.
If you would like to know more about any idiomatic
expressions you may have heard, or about any
Spanish-language difficulties,
feel free to contact me at sandrocohen@gmail.com
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