The Spanish I Didn’t Learn in School: Ecuadorian version

I think three weeks is enough time here to give you a run-down on the phrases I’ve come across, out in the field. I am not a seasoned enough traveler to affirm their unique Ecuadorian identity. I am waiting on the experts (Liz, Santi, Erica, Janet, Ceci?) to tell me if they’re common throughout Latin America. I can only tell you they are new to this gringa’s ears, and I am enjoying them!

No te creo:  Literally, it’s “I don’t believe you,” and much like its English counterpart, the person doesn’t literally doubt the veracity of what you’re saying. It’s more of a “no way!” but less enthusiastic. “No kidding,” maybe.

Fresco: As far as I can tell, this is kind of a placating response, a “fine”, if you will. “Cómo estás?” “Ay, fresco.” Or Mónica has also told me before, when I’ve been concerned about not pulling my fair share (how often have you gotten turned down to help with dishes? It’s happened quite a lot over here), “No te preocupes—estás fresca.”

Miércoles: This is the equivalent of “shoot” or “dang” or some other euphemism for a curse word. If you can’t figure out what word this sounds like, ask someone. The French speakers should be figuring it out, too. It literally means “Wednesday.” I’ve heard it muttered under breaths, as an exclamation, but also in sentences. Just today, a friend’s younger host sister told me, “Mi papá se va a comer miércoles si no le contesto!” as a reason she needed to be by her phone. Make more sense?

De ley: I just recently learned this phrase. It translates literally as “from the law” or “by the law”, but connotatively it’s “for sure”. I used it around two Ecuadorian boys from the Polytécnica institute, and they were duly impressed.

La Rosalie/ El Mateo: When someone isn’t in the room (or even if they are, actually), and you are referring to them in third person, they take on an article. The Rosalie, the Matthew. It’s novel to me, and I still haven’t quite adopted it yet.

Gordo: There is just really not a stigma with calling someone fat, or chunky, here! It’s affectionate. My friend Erika calls her nephew Gordo and her son Flaco (skinny). There’s no malice or ill-concealed desire for someone to lose weight. It seems to be just a nickname based on someone’s appearance. Similarly, it’s no big deal to refer to someone as “negro”. Just today, one of the guys we were hiking with was called “el negro,” even though he seemed just as tan as anyone else to me. Alternatively, calling someone “estúpido” is much graver. An insult to intelligence is taken much more seriously—Mónica wrathfully muttered “Imbecil!” as a woman cut her off in the morning. Can you imagine? In our country, we call each other stupid playfully, yet we would never call to one of our friends, “Hey, fatty!” and expect the other to turn and smile at us.

Plata: Literally “silver”, but figuratively “money.” This is not just informal slang—the other day, my Environmental Project Planning professor lectured on how to receive “plata” for our proposals.

A la orden: As Santi taught me before I left, this is a very subservient way to say “You’re welcome.” You’re probably familiar with “de nada”, but that’s a very equal thing to say. In different power dynamics, you’re more likely to hear “a la orden.” For example, I’ve heard bureaucrats in the Ministerios say this, as well as vendedores in the market.

Coger: This is an all-purpose verb, meaning roughly “to get.” I’ve heard in other countries it can mean “to screw”, so I’ll need to watch myself. Here, at least, you can coger el bus, coger una clase, or coger some silverware.

Gua gua: There is definitely a Quichua influence on Ecuadorian Spanish from the indigenous groups still residing here. Gua gua is a child, be they infant in arms or running around and talking.

A cha chai: Another Quichua phrase, this one translates to “How chilly/cold!”

Tacos: Here, tacos are not a food item. They are slang for tacones, or high-heeled shoes. Any Ecuadorian woman worth her salt wears heels, no matter where or how far she walks. In the cordillera near Quilotoa this weekend, as I panted and huffed flat-footed on the muddy trails, indigenous women in tacos and skirts passed me by.

Mande: This is a polite command literally meaning “Order (me).” I’ve heard it around Erika’s family a lot. If one of her sons yells “Mami!”, her long-suffering parent voice (you know the one: there are no surprises left, so there’s a certain amount of resignation and lack of urgency compared to the child’s voice) replies, “Mande”. Similarly, if she calls to them, their response is the same. I think in an equivalent US situation, we would just say, “Yes?”

Qué bestia! This is a catch-all phrase. Not only does it have the positive, impressed “What a beast!” connotations, but it can also describe something negative. A lot of traffic? Que bestia. That guy just climbed up the rock face? Que bestia. Something really cool? Something kind of shocking and terrible? You got it—Que bestia!

I know I’ve got lots more learning ahead of me, and I’ll probably be incorporating Ecuadorian slang into my Spanish without realizing it. But here’s a taste of what I’ve been experiencing. I hope non-Spanish speakers have been able to relate, or at least get a kick out of the things I hear.

Oh, one last word. It seems like every area has its own word to say “cool”or “awesome”—some all-purpose word of approval. In Puerto Rico, it’s “nítido”. I’ve heard “genial”, I think for Mexico, and “guay” is somewhere else. In Ecuador, it’s “chévere.”