Nalga means butt in Spanish. The first time I heard the word was over the plancha/stove as my host mom recounted the story of a time she fell ill. “I didn’t get out of bed for a week” she told me with great detail and expression. The woman loves to work, wakes up every day just a little after 6 to moler the maiz in the molero and to start her work. I cannot imagine much of anything that would keep her in bed for a morning or a full day, much less a week.
She said: “My family forced me to to go the doctor and they gave me a shot right in the nalga.” The word almost made me laugh but I held it together through her discourse.
And on my second week of working in the schools, I came home from school in the outskirts. I walked as the sun set which my host mom and sister warned me I should never do again.Noted, I will not do it again (you hear that, Mom!). “Another occasion when the sun’s out” my host mom patted me encouragingly on the arm, the way you love-pat a disappointed six year old who just found out Busch Garden’s is closed on their birthday. I caterwauled “Mi independencia se murió en Guatemala!” to their laughter as I scaled the stairs. I sat in my designated seat as the tortillas heated up and the day melted away as dinner was prepared.
During dinner I got up to imitate something funny my mom did, I love to hear her laugh!, when I heard the sound of myself separating from the chair. “That’s weird” I thought as I returned to my seat. When I got up to grab a tortilla or something of equal importance, I heard myself unstick again.
I looked down and there was gum on the seat meaning it came from my jeans. In a flurry my host family said “Where did that come from?! We never chew gum here in the kitchen! I mean, we do not masticar chicle Natalia so we just do not know where this would come from. Tal vez la calle?” and they fret and they fret while I chuckle to myself. Then I realize that it must have been a joven who put it there. I sat in front of a group of boys during school assembly. Surely they stuck it in my seat as I sat down.
I told the ladies my hypothesis. My host mom proceeded to show me where the gum was on my pants “in the mera nalga!” as she turned her back to show me with her hand. “Right in between your butt cheeks.” Have you ever had a 64 year-old give herself a wedgie to show you where you’ve been gum-hit by a joven? Well add it to the list of experiences we don’t share because I have.
La Mera Nalga. La Mera Mera here is like The Boss Lady or Tip of the Top. Also, I live in the “mera esquina” in site, or the first corner. So what my mom said, in other words, is that the gum “is on the very tip of your butt, Natalie.”
So I took the pants off after dinner and brought them downstairs per the directives of my host sister and mom. Clarita took great care in cleaning off the gum with a toothbrush, soap and water, right from the mera nalga. This is not the sort of thing I would ever normally do: hey can you clean some gum off my pants, thanks. But I’ve learned that they are just gonna do certain things and I might as well acquiesce. Thankfully the gum was removed from my only pair of jeans and we all slept in peace.
An important footnote: Abuelita is here for all of these interactions. She doesn’t always contribute speech because Spanish is hard for her and K’iche’ is hard for me. But she has just as much pena about everything I do as the other two ladies. When my food is cooking, she looks on with concern and interest. “Are the potatoes boiling?” she’ll ask Clarita as my food is being cooked. Or she’ll laugh if I make a funny gesture or do a weird dance move. So in the midst of the gum discovery on my butt, all 90 years of Abuelita was assessing the situation and responded “Jesus Maria Santissima” as if to say: “By George there’s gum on your mera nalga!”