Caliente: A Cautionary Tale

I've taken spanish since first grade. I'd like to think that if I was stranded in a spanish speaking country, I would have the wits enough to have small talk, explain the situation roughly ,and get to a  teléfono. Taking University Spanish in college, I 've discovered that my accent is quite terrible. It only increases when I have to address the class, and especially degenerates during oral exams. Strangely enough, I've found that it's only semi-pasable when I pray in class. It's probably due to my brief, but utterly heartfelt, desperate prayer: Padre del Cielo, Ayúdame.

Anyways, I was feeling fairely confident for my oral exam today after I watched 5 hours of La Fea Mas Bella (Spanish version of Ugly Betty) this past weekend. I sat on the bench in the crowded hall with my amigas, reading the prompt with a smile: You recently met the prefect match for your friend. Describe the physical and personality traits of the person to them, and encourage them to go on a date with them.

As the exam wore on, the stoic expressions of my teacher and his creepy cat tie made my smile falter.

Listening while my friend described my ideal man, I gathered courage from my many hours of spanish televsion, and attempted to make it more of a conversation.

"...él tiene el cuerpo del gimnasio," She took a deep breath, getting ready to go on to personality when I interrupted.

"Caliente!" I said enthusaistically, embarrassingly drawing it out in a suggestive tone. My teacher flinched and groaned, and a cute boy leaning in the hall choked. A terrible feeling pooled in my stomache. How many times had I pronouced caliente? I knew that word since first grade. It's one of the few which are satisfying for me to say. I pushed the disapointment aside as I stumbled through my own descriptions, even succeeding in getting my teacher to laugh.

At the end of our exam, he told the two other chicas his light crtique on their grammar and such, before turing to me. Surprisngly, he had little to correct. Then, he sighed and started blushing. I felt decidedly uncomfortable with his reddened cheeks.

"And, caliente does not mean what you think it means. Don't ever use that as a description for anyone, "He actually squrimed. My other two friends laughed. I didn't, not understanding why.

The cute boy spoke up, grining at me amusedly, "It means something verrryy different", he laughed again, "Next time use guapo or bonito." I blushed, smothered the strange urge to call him guapo or bonito, and thanked him for the advice. He nodded, and laughed again.

My teacher grinned at us awkwardly as we walked back into the classroom. Once inside, both girls released great peals of laughter. Embarrassed and faintly annoyed, I asked them what caliente meant in that context.

"It means," she paused, taking another steading breath, "...loose," she finished in delicate BYU reply. The other girl roared again, nodding her head furiously. I flushed and winced.

"So after you said that he had a gym body, I basically exclaimed: Promiscious!"

I took their shocked guffaws as confirmation.

Moral(s) of The Story

Word meanings change depending on the context.

Refer to attractive people as: guapo, bonito, attractivo, suavo.

Spanish Televion does not translate directly into fluent, BYU appropirate spanish vocabulary.

You know its bad when the teacher blushes.

-Annalee