Category Archives: Time

Amanecer for all seasons

For some reason, this old post on some of my favorite words in Spanish has been getting a lot of traffic lately. Those words are great, but unfortunately I don’t find many opportunities to work floripondio, acuatizaje, or gordinflón into conversations. (Despite our obesity epidemic, we Americans are pretty touchy about this being pointed out to us. Thus, you can only think gordinflón; you can’t say it. Unless you’re The Onion, of course.)

Some of the words on that list do get a lot of mileage in my daily parlance, though: words like mijo/mijaojalá, and pues. Today I want to write about amanecer, the second word on the list. He’s number two, but he tries harder than number one (inmiscuirse), and he’s infinitely more interesting. He’s also much more useful than, say, pluviosidad. Of course, I support beauty for beauty’s sake, so there’s nothing wrong with being beautiful and (practically) useless. We just get more opportunities to admire the loveliness of words like amanecer when they lend themselves more easily to the prose of daily life.

I’m sure you’re familiar with amanecer. It means to dawn, for the sun to come up. Amanecer as a noun means sunrise, dawn, daybreak.

Hoy amaneció a las 5:55. 

Today the sun came up at 5:55.

Rezo por ti cada noche, amanece y pienso en ti. (Shakira)

I pray for you every night; at dawn I think of you.

Después del concierto nos quedamos tomando vino hasta que amanecía.

After the concert we drank wine until it was beginning to get light out.

Image by °lorenalreves° via Flickr Creative Commons

Nunca alcanzamos a ver el amanecer juntos.

We never got a chance to watch a sunrise together.

Another very widespread usage of amanecer is to wake up, especially to talk about your location or how you feel. ¿Cómo amaneciste? is the standard question for this, and you ask it to your fellow household dwellers (partner, family) as you groggily pad about in the mornings. You can also ask close friends or coworkers if it’s still a.m. What is it asking? Poetically, how did you dawn? (You can, after all, tell people that they’re un sol–a sweetheart–so why can’t they dawn and dusk?) Really, it’s, how’d you sleep? How are you feeling this morning? Did you wake up on the right side of the bed? Rodney wrote a post on it a while back. Ojo, it usually sounds more like ¿Cómo ‘maneciste?

Describing how you feel:

Sudafed te tumba pero amaneces renovada. Es buenísimo.

Sudafed will knock you out, but you’ll wake up a new person. It’s amazing.

Amanecí bien, pero hoy salí bastante aburrido del trabajo.

I felt good this morning, but I left work today extremely unhappy.

En estos días mi niño me amanece enfermito y con una infección en los ojitos.

The past few days, my son has been waking up sick and with an eye infection.

amanecí duro

Describing where you are:

Amanecí otra vez entre tus brazos, y desperté llorando de alegría. (Chavela Vargas)

At daybreak I found myself once again in your arms, and I awoke crying tears of happiness.

Nos quedamos dormidos en el avión y amanecimos sobre Madrid. 

We fell asleep on the plane and woke up over Madrid.

In Colombia, they frequently say amanecer to mean to spend the night somewhere. Actually, I never heard this in Bogotá, but I heard it constantly in Medellín. Maybe it’s used in Bogotá as well, but I never noticed it. Although I lived in a more or less central part of Medellín, on the weekends I’d often go to Bello, a municipality to the north. Once it got late, the question was always whether to amanecer or not to amanecer; to just stay the night at the family’s house or head all the way back. I can’t find a single citation of this usage online, but I know it’s common in Colombia. Anywhere else? I love that rather than focusing on where you spend the night and perhaps using atardecer or anochecer, this usage instead focuses on where you spend the dawn. Mom, can I spend the dawn with Amy? Perhaps instead of a slumber party, we’d call it an awakening party. What’s better– to fall asleep by a lover’s side, or to wake up next to them? Which should we emphasize? Isn’t language rich? Living in Colombia and inhabiting this beautiful Spanish, I felt like I lived in a poem.

El sábado decidí amanecer en casa de mi familia, pues se me hizo tarde, además también estaba lloviendo.

On Saturday I decided to stay the night at my family’s house because it was getting late, and on top of that it was raining.

Voy a amanecer donde mi tía la noche antes del matrimonio.

I’m going to stay at my aunt’s place the night before the wedding.

Amanece, quédate a mi lado toda la noche hasta que llegue el día, reina de mi vida. (Doctor Krapula- Colombian band)

Stay the night, stay by my side all night long until day comes, my queen.

Image by olgaberrios from Flickr Creative Commons

Amanecer muerto is a way of saying that someone was found dead in the morning. Maybe they died in their sleep, or maybe they passed away in a less peaceful manner. It’s now lights out for them.

One must-know phrase–at least in Colombia and, it appears, Venezuela–is this one: amanecerá y veremos. Literally, it will dawn and we’ll see. Figuratively, pretty much the same. Tomorrow will come and then we’ll see. Let’s wait and see. Only time can tell. Seeing is believing. Amanecerá y veremos can be an innocent enough phrase that merely indicates that there’s no point in stressing out and that we’ll know the answers to our questions soon. It can also be a synonym, though, of a cynical attitude of indifference and apathy. Sort of a, Harumph! Oh yeah? Such and such politician said they’d do that? Time will tell, I guess, but I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you. It’s like an eye roll and a shrug, transcribed.

When checking in new patients at work, we have to ask them a litany of questions, one of which is something like, “Is there anyone in your life who threatens or abuses you?” (¿Hay alguien en su vida que le amenace o lo maltrate?) I always mentally trip over threaten, though, and have to sort through in a nanosecond whether it’s amenazar or amanecer, amenace or amanece (amanezca). Is there anyone in your life who dawns you? Would you like there to be? I know I would.

In case you were wondering, you can’t use amanecer to express that something dawned on you. If you have an aha moment, you’ll want to say se me ocurrió or caí en la cuenta.

So, do you concur with me that amanecer is as beautiful and fascinating word as what it describes? Definitely as worth it to learn as an amanecer is worth waking up early for.

A fan of afán

Just being facetious, of course. I’m neither for nor against afán per se; I simply liked the ring of that phrase. You know, just going for a catchy title to lure in the big spenders. Sometimes I’m very pro-afán; other times, I’m no fan of afán at all. What say you? Oh, did I miss something? Why, it seems a definition of terms is quite in order. All right, I’ll admit that just as I once had to plead for an explanation of afán, you guys are just as entitled to one. Aquí va. 

You know that to say hurry or rush, you reach for prisa.

Not so in Colombia.

In Colombia, the word you usually want is afánEl afán. I don’t know why they have to make things difficult, they just do. Fortunately, you’ll hear this word so often in Colombia that it will get drilled into you very quickly, leaving prisa to shiver out in the cold.

Siéntate y tómate un tinto conmigo. ¿O tienes afán? Sí, qué pena. Tengo much afán, ya me tengo que ir. 

Sit down and have a coffee with me. Or are you in a hurry? I am, unfortunately. I’m really in a rush, and I have to leave now.

Cuando tengas tiempito, me gustaría que habláramos sobre la novela. Pero tampoco hay afán, no importa cuando sea.

When you have some time, I’d like to talk about the novel with you. There’s no rush, though. It can be whenever.

Ojalá pudiéramos ir al bar con ustedes, pero estamos de afán. Es que cuadramos algo con la hermana de ella.

I wish we could go to the bar with you guys, but we’ve got to get a move on. We made plans with her sister.

¿Cuál es el afán? ¿Para qué tanto afán?

What’s the hurry? All this rushing about and for what?

“Es que voy de afán”, dice la mayoría de conductores infractores (Headline from noticiascaracol.com)

“I was in a hurry”, say the majority of law-breaking drivers

Here are two screenshots from the accompanying video:

Oh, those Colombians! Well, at least they’re honest.

So, as you’ve seen, three ways to say that someone is in a rush in Colombia are: tener afán, estar de afán and ir de afán. 

Perennially late, I was always tempted to tell taxi drivers that iba de afán, but I never did, afraid of seeming like a real jackass. I mean, who isn’t in a hurry? Who was I, some royal duchess? And, besides, what was I going to do in exchange for them going at an even more breakneck speed than usual? Pay double? Anyway, I usually had great and very colorful conversations with the taxi drivers. It would have been a shame to have cut them short.

A useful verb is afanar/afanarse. I usually heard it in the phrase: No te afanes. Sometimes it’s “Don’t rush; take your time” ; other times it’s more like “Don’t worry; don’t stress.” Often it’s a mix of the two.

Of course, prisa is understood in Colombia and occasionally used. But very, very occasionally, diría yo. 

The standard meaning for afán is eagerness, thirst, anxiousness, zeal.

And here’s a new one for me: apuro. I didn’t realize that it was another synonym for prisa and afán. I knew apurarse¡apúrate!– (also used in Colombia) and the other meaning for apuro, but I didn’t know it could also mean hurry/rush. Apparently it’s very Latin American, which is good, because that’s where I spend most of my time. Hm . . . hasta ahora me desayuno. Speaking of desayuno . . . I think that sounds like a great idea right about now. I’m off to rummage about for some.

What about you? Did you know about afán? Are you a fan? What other words and phrases for being in a hurry in Spanish do you know? If you’re a native Spanish speaker, anything to correct, clarify, comment on or concur with? How about ándale and dale caña? Those are two other phrases I wonder about.

¡Hasta ahora me desayuno!

Here’s something short and sweet that you’ll hear and especially see (in emails, Facebook messages, Tweets, what have you) in Colombian Spanish. It’s apparently common in some other countries as well, but not in others, so if you’re trying the learn the Spanish specific to a certain country/city/Latin lover, run it by the local denizens first. Of what do I speak? A special use of the phrase, Hasta ahora, where you use it to mean “only just” and “not until now.”

Here’s the line from the Facebook message where I first encountered this phrase in December of 2010. He was a cute teacher I worked with in Bogotá and we went out a few times, but I ended up falling for a Paisa instead.

Hola, siento leer hasta ahora tu mensaje, espero que te haya ido muy bn en el christmas show, yo quería ir…ya qué!

I understood all the words in that message, but siento leer hasta ahora tu mensaje really set my head spinning. It seems painfully obvious to me now, but you can’t get to obvious without passing through oblivious. “I’m sorry to read until now…”, “I’m sorry to read until now…”. Whatever could it mean? Even though my Spanish was decent back then, and I knew a lot of vocabulary, I was still weak at intuitively grasping the meaning of phrases and switched-up syntax that I hadn’t come across before. If things didn’t come to me in the pre-packaged forms that I was comfortable and familiar with, one wacky preposition or creative rewording could easily make me feel utterly discombobulated.

And then it hit me. Aha! It’s like saying, Siento no leer hasta ahora tu mensaje. Or, Siento no haber leído hasta ahora tu mensaje. I’m sorry I didn’t see your message until now. I’m sorry to read (not) until now– OK. This was manageable. And then, before I knew it, it started cropping up everywhere. How handy! Before I knew it, I was writing it as often as I was receiving it. I reveled in being one phrase fluenter, and now you can too.

¡Llámame apenas puedas! ¡Es muy importante! Nena, ¿estás ahiiiii? ¡Necesito tu ayuda! – Hola, qué pena, hasta ahora me conecto. 

Call me as soon as you can! It’s super important! Hey, are you there????? I need your help! – Hey, sorry, I just logged on.

¡Hasta ahora lo vengo a comprender! It’s just now that I’m starting to understand it!

Perdón, hasta ahora veo tu comentario. Sorry, I didn’t see your comment until now.

Hasta ahora puedo organizar algo debido al paro. Because of the strike, it’s just now that I can finally organize something.

¿Tu novio tiene hijo y hasta ahora te enteras? Your boyfriend has a son and you’re telling me you only found out just now?

Are you getting a feel for it? Another way you could say all of these phrases is with apenas ahora. In some countries, they use recién for this construction.

Hasta ahora me di cuenta que sigo enamorada de ti. It wasn’t till now that I realized that I’m still in love with you.

Hasta ahora me vengo a enterar de la existencia de esa regla. I just now learned of the existence of that rule.

¿Hasta ahora te das cuenta? You mean you didn’t know that till now?

When you ask it in a question, there’s often an undertone of incredulity and definitely a hint of tsk-tsking going on. Wait, are you trying to tell me you didn’t know till NOW? Seriously??? Dense much? A little slow on the uptake, are we? It’s quite subtle, though, and acts very “Who me?” coy and innocent. Perfect for a passive-aggressive catfight where you don’t want to outright say anything that smacks of insolence . . . you just want to imply it. It lets you wag your finger in their face and keep your hands in your pockets.

And this has all been leading us up to the post’s title– ¡Hasta ahora me desayuno! Count me as someone who had never heard this phrase before yesterday, but, well, me desayuné. Apparently, desayunarse can also mean to realize something. Thus, that line doesn’t mean “So far I eat myself for breakfast”–!!! Just imagine the setup, à la The Far Side. A mother calls her son who’s stranded on a desert island without any provisions. “I see, Leroy, so you catch fish for lunch and dinner, but what about breakfast??” No, no; relax. No one’s eating anyone else for breakfast or any other meal. It simply means “It’s news to me!” or “First time I’ve heard that” or “I just realized something . . .” Kind of like, I woke up and smelled the coffee.

¿En serio que Julio Jaramillo era ecuatoriano y no colombiano? ¡Hasta ahora me desayuno! Really, Julio Jaramillo was Ecuadorian and not Colombian? I seriously had no idea!

Hasta ahora me desayuno que los pulpos tienen pico. I just now learned that octopi have beaks.

Mija, ¿hasta ahora te desayunas de eso? Ay, pobrecita. Debería habértelo dichoSweetie, are you telling me you didn’t know that before? Poor thing–I should have told you.

_________________________________________________ Non-natives, what’s your experience with these phrases? Had you heard them before? How have you heard them used? Where? If you’re a native Spanish speaker, anything to correct, clarify, comment on or concur with? 

¡Que te rinda!

What can I say? Rendir is a really great verb. Smart as all get-out, very well-connected, wittily banters with the best of them. A real charmer. Haven’t yet made his acquaintance? Here, take my arm– I’ll introduce you. This is a verb you won’t believe you’ve gone so long without knowing. Rendir, ¿dónde has estado toda mi vida?, you’ll soon be asking. He’s that good.

I’m willing to bet you already know his cousin, rendirse. It means to give up. Maybe you give up on a project; maybe you surrender and give yourself up to the police. Either way, you call it quits and hold up a white flag.

Now, back to rendir. It means a few things, and, try as I may, I’m no substitute for a dictionary. Use it. (I like wordreference.com, but I’ve been finding myself more and more impressed with spanishdict.com lately) I want to focus on just one of its intransitive uses today, but feel free to knock yourself out with the other ones.

So, we can think of rendir as giving something over. Yielding something. Above, with rendirse, we saw that you are giving yourself over– either surrendering yourself to people in a legal or military context (yes, “surrender” and rendir come from the same Latin root) or to that devil that sits on our shoulders and tells us we’re bound to fail at whatever we try.

Cheer up–it’s not all bad news. The universe can rendir something good as well: productivity. With the universe, we’re talking about non-concrete things– things like time, which brings us back to our title. ¡Que te rinda! You might hear this if you’re on your way out the door and you’ve just told your girlfriend that you’re heading to a coffee shop to work on your thesis. ¡Que te rinda! she calls out. May the time yield much profit for you! May your two hours render you great benefit! May you write ten pages and not squander the time checking Facebook and Pinterest! Yeah, it really says all that. It doesn’t translate smoothly in English, but we’d say something like, “Hope you get a lot of work done!” You’re just wishing that the time be highly productive for the other person’s sake.

¿Que me rinda what? That the implied time (two hours) yield you implied progress–say, maybe five new pages written. In the same way, I might say something like, Nos rindió mucho la reunión. We got a lot done in the meeting. Again, the time produced a great yield. Are you getting the hang of it?

Te rinde más la vida.

Trabajé duro en el proyecto y me rindió mucho.

I worked hard on the project and made a lot of headway.

Cuando trabajo y escucho música a la vez, no me rinde casi.

When I work and listen to music at the same time, I’m not very productive.

Mañana voy a madrugar para que me rinda el día. 

I’m going to get up early tomorrow so I can get a lot done during the day.

What about you? Have you had a rendidor kind of day today? (I had one of those yesterday) Or has it been a typical lazy Saturday? Ah, sometimes rendimiento is a little overhyped, don’t you think? There’s nothing more delicious, sometimes, than getting home at 3 in the morning, sleeping till 9:45 to then dash to a 10 o’clock appointment, and coming home to a long, guiltless nap. Now that I’ve given you a peek behind the curtain here on the blog, I’d better go do something productive, like study for my interpreting exam. ¡Que me rinda! 

_________________________________________________ Non-natives, what’s your experience with this phrase and verb? Had you heard them before? How have you heard them used? Where? If you’re a native Spanish speaker, anything to correct, clarify, comment on or concur with? 

About time

It’s interesting (to me, anyway) to think about how we order the time in our lives. It really shouldn’t matter that we just said goodbye to 2011 and then moseyed into 2012, but it did and it does. What did it really change? Well . . . something. We feel . . . different. Time marches forward, life moves on whether we want it to or not, and we are more surrounded by both the familiar and the great unknown than ever before. Like many people, I’m very attached to keeping track of my life via the four seasons. I know that sounds like a strange thing to remark, but when I lived in a place that didn’t have those seasons, I realized how significant they really are for me and many others. We say things like “They’re getting married in the spring,” or “We met last summer,” or “I always feel a delicious mix of wistfulness and contentment in the fall.” They don’t talk that way in Colombia. There, it’s the rainy season (invierno) and the rest of the year. I don’t know about the rest of Latin America. I once explained at length to my ex-boyfriend what each season represents for us and how symbolic the changing of the seasons is. We only got through the cycle once.

Maybe the liturgical calendar holds a great deal of meaning for you. Maybe it’s the sports seasons. Maybe the academic year. Maybe the growing season is what marks the upheaval and rests in your life. Whatever it is, we all need something to be able to distinguish one day from the next, one seemingly interminable period from the one on the distant horizon. Now, where was I going with this? Oh, yes. I’d quite forgot.

Time. Watch-wearers can be hard to come by in the modern reign of the cell phone, but, watch or no watch, I know you think a lot about time. Passing it, saving it, killing it, being on it. Forget years and revolutions around the sun–our daily preoccupations are ruled by minutes and seconds, ticks and tocks! We always want to be in time and on time, but the minute someone puts their hand out for some it? We have no time! Such is life. Since our conversations are so dominated by talking about time, here are some very useful things you should know. As always, these come from my experience (my blog = my experience).

How to talk about time in Spanish

1. Despite what you learned in high school Spanish, no one actually says son las seis menos veinte for 5:40, let alone son las once menos veintitrés for 10:37. Look, no one has the time to do that kind of math. The verb you need to use is faltar, which means “to be lacking.”

Faltan veinte para las seis

It’s twenty till six. (5:40)

Faltaban quince para la una.

It was quarter till one. (12:45)

You can even lop off the faltan and be fine. Veinte para las seis. What about when it’s not an increment of five, like 6:37, and it’s really important that you be precise? Like, you’re a forensic analyst and you absolutely must indicate the exact minute that the victim died. In that case, you just say las seis y treinta y siete. Only do easy math! No need to whip out a calculator or use your fingers.

2. They don’t say ¿Qué hora es? very often in Colombia and some other countries. I only heard ¿Qué horas son?, but both are valid.

3. To ask someone what time it is, especially a stranger, say, on the bus or on the street, you say ¿Tiene/s horas?

4. When generalizing about numbers (time or otherwise), a very useful and colloquial construction is por ahí. It means around, about, more or less.

Nos conocimos hace por ahí un año.

We met about a year ago.

¿Cuándo te voy a recoger? No sé, por ahí a las seis.

When am I going to come get you? I don’t know, probably around six.

When people are speaking quickly, it often comes out sounding more like por hay las seis, just so you know. (Two syllables instead of four)

5. Another useful word for approximating times is tipo. 

Normalmente se levanta tipo seis.

He usually gets up around sixish.

Te llamo tipo cuatro y media.

I’ll call you around four-thirty.

6. You can also say alrededor de, but this is a little more formal.

Vengan alrededor de las nueve.

Come around nine.

I also see a eso de online, but I never heard it in Colombia.

6. Approximations not your bag? Want to insist that someone arrive on the dot or else? That they get there at six SHARP? En punto.

Tienes que llegar a la entrevista a las seis en punto, ni un minuto más, ni un minuto menos.

You have to be at the interview at six sharp.

7. This is being pulled from the archive of old emails from the ex-boyfriend that I probably should delete but never will. According to him, Colombians consider the English to be the most punctual people in the world (NOT Americans, he made a point of saying). Therefore, they’ll sometimes say things like Soy (tan) puntual como un inglés, or even soy más puntual que un inglés. As punctual as an Englishman! More punctual, even! Ha! Let me just say that I, for one, never met any of these Colombians who allegedly fancy themselves more timely than the Brits. Lateness abounded, and nobody seemed to bat an eye.

Browsing the Internet, I also found these:

puntual como un reloj suizo (a Swiss watch)

puntual como un clavo (nail)

puntual como la muerte (death)

Hopefully you’ve noticed by now that there’s no “c” in puntual!

I’m plum out of time, simply must dash or I shan’t be on time for tea, trying to sound and act more English–more to come!

_________________________________________________ Non-natives, what’s your experience with these time expressions? Had you heard them before? How have you heard them used? Where? If you’re a native Spanish speaker, anything to correct, clarify, comment on or concur with?