Joy of Spanish
La ropa sucia se lava en casa…Last week we began to look at a series of expressions having to do with clothing. There are many more. Take this one, for example: la ropa sucia se lava en casa. (“Dirty clothes are washed at home.”) If you hear someone say this, it means that unpleasant domestic matters should not be ventilated in public forums, but in private. This can be applied to the home (as directly implied by the metaphor), the office, or even one’s country. Let’s look at a few examples.
Say I had a little spat with my wife and then we went to a friend’s house for dinner. If during the course of conversation I started talking about our problem back at home, my wife might pinch my arm and say under her breath: “Cállate. La ropa sucia se lava en casa.” (“Be quiet. Dirty clothes are washed at home.”)
Another example, this time from the office. Imagine there had been some friction regarding who was responsible for a certain oversight in customer service, and then the very people involved had a meeting with a couple of technicians who are supposed to design the company’s Internet Web page. If all of a sudden one of the customer service people referred to the oversight they had been arguing about before their meeting, and then asked the Internet people for their opinion, the others would probably tell him (or her) to chill, because la ropa sucia se lava en casa. When outside one’s local environment, one should give the impression that one gets along perfectly well with family, fellow workers, or even countrymen, as in this last example:
Back at home in Mexico, Juan, Pedro, and Mario are political adversaries. They belong to three different political parties and they argue constantly over public spending, corruption, and electoral fraud. Sometimes they even make personal accusations. But then they are invited to take part in a forum dedicated to current Mexican politics at a famous university in Canada. They all arrive on different flights, but they happen get to the auditorium at exactly the same time and there they are on the sidewalk, each with his escort and several other people, probably from the press. They greet each warmly with big hugs and they ask how their families are back home. They enter the auditorium like the best of friends and their hosts wonder if they made some kind of mistake. Maybe they brought three people from the same political party.
This, of course, is not the case. When in a foreign country, one doesn’t let petty politics prevent a show of unity before the larger adversary: the rest of the world. In other words, la ropa sucia se lava en casa. Save the bickering for later, and back home. As for the forum, their different points of view will be talked about in a calm and professional fashion, and then their hosts will actually wonder if these politicians are from Mexico, or if they are politicians at all. But they will understand if someone explains to them that all-important expression: la ropa sucia se lava en casa. It’s a matter of manners and good taste.
And talking about politicians, it’s common knowledge that lawmakers and government functionaries — it doesn’t matter what country they’re from — never ever do anything that might compromise their position. Every step they take is previously thought out as to its repercussions. They hedge their bets, watch over their shoulder; they have spies (“ears,” also known as orejas) in select government offices and they are wont to spend the taxpayers’ money generously while doing whatever it is they do to stay in office. This almost universal practice is known as “not taking a step without a huarache”: no dar un paso sin huarache.
As you probably know already, huaraches are footwear, native Mexican sandals, usually made of leather straps connected to a tire-tread sole. Modern, industrial huaraches may have “normal” soles, but the traditional ones still come with tire tread.
You may think that huaraches are for peasants or hippies, but the fact is that many people don’t have enough money even for this very simple footwear, and from their point of view, those who wear them are protected from any surface contingencies like broken glass, nails, or sharp stones. That’s the general idea behind the saying. If I were to say that my boss doesn’t take a step without first putting on his huaraches, it means that he takes every precaution before making any move, that he has thought everything through beforehand.
For example, if Guadalupe is thinking of running for local office, she isn’t just going to up and put her name on the ballot. First she’s going to sondear (“sound out”) her fellow party members, take a few informal polls, see what kind of financial backing is available; she’ll have to see who else is interested in the post and what chances they have. If all things point to her winning the election, then and only then will she announce she’s interested in the job, as if it had just occurred to her spontaneously. Guadalupe, it could be said, no da paso sin huarache. She’s got everything under control.
Next week we’ll take another step, with or without huarache, toward understanding colloquial Spanish. If you have any suggestions for future articles, send them in via e-mail. And speaking of not taking any steps without huaraches, did you check out my blog…?
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