Opinion

Oh, what happened?

By Lorenzo Lemaur Santana Elguinaguaria, swan's nest (stage IOh, what happened? You see, here! You put us some "piscos", one of "tollos" and another of "gueldes" It was Sunday, May 31, and the people of the Popular Party had ...

By Lorenzo Lemaur Santana
Elguinaguaria, swan's nest (stage IOh, what happened? You see, here! You put us some "piscos", one of "tollos" and another of "gueldes" It was Sunday, May 31, and the people of the Popular Party had ...

Elguinaguaria, swan's nest (stage I

Oh, what happened?

You see, here! You put us some "piscos", one of "tollos" and another of "gueldes"

It was Sunday, May 31, and the people of the Popular Party had gone out on an electoral caravan all over the island. Already in the last ones, those of us who had stayed wanted to have a snack so we looked for where and there we went. It was not the day of the Canary Islands but, it is the same, those of us here or those who have been here for a while, we speak in our own way every day. It would be missing more.

There were a few of us. Fermín, from the Villa, Roberto, the Galician, Polo, from the "dewy" of El Charco, Bartolo Pérez, who comes from San Bartolomé although he lives in Arrecife, Cándido, Juan Rivera, who comes from Soo, Eugenio Hernández, from the salt flats of Arrecife, and a few more. Well, I was there too, because nobody told me this.

We arrived, set up a table for everyone and sat down. With foundation, of course. The waiter arrives, who was known to some. Oh! What happened?, he greets us. Bartolo answers for everyone: "You see, here. You put us some "piscos", one of "tollos", another of "gueldes" and see if these people want something else." Fermín, who like me was hungrier, completes: "You also put us a tortilla, paisana style." The waiter replies: "we don't work with chorizo." "Well, you put some pieces of sirloin, or bacon", Fermín completes.

Said and done. We ended up ordering another tortilla. It was good and the part here, where Fermín, Polo, Bartolo and I were, we were eager to eat. Already satiated we talked about many things. Less about politics because we would have already talked enough during the entire caravan. I don't know how, Fermín gets into a polemic with everyone else about whether the "tollo" this or the "tollo" that. I'm not going to talk to you about that, but I will tell you that I promised Fermín that I would find out where that word came from.

I had already written about other languages that have influenced Canarian speech but, look where, Basque has also left words in our most genuine vocabulary.

Despite the fact that few things are more typical in the Canary Islands, after "papas arrugadas" or "sancocho", than "tollos", "sancochados" and in "mojo", looking on the Internet for the origin of the word "tollo", I found it on the website of the Miguel de Cervantes Virtual Library (www.cervantesvirtual.com). In it, two references are made that place the term as coming from the Basque language, which defines it as "salted and dried dogfish". Here we all know it. "Tollos" are strips of dried dogfish. We also know that sancochados and in mojo are delicious.

Look where, in the same reference, I also discovered that the term "guelde", perhaps less known but widely used in Lanzarote, comes from Basque. As we know, we call "gueldes" some small fish that, as far as I know, we mostly eat fried.

In an "omepaje" hosted on the official website of the Astrophysical Institute of the Canary Islands, I found a "Guia Guanye ? Godo", in its dictionary it defines "tollos" as "strips of dried porbeagle (shark)".

This guide begins with "Oh, what happened?", a more than typical exclamation that explains it in the following way: "Oh, used to express surprise, or as an exclamation", and "what happened, classic Canarian expression, to which you don't have to respond by telling your whole life (serious mistake), if not with a "what's up" or "hello". In a bar, answer with what you want to drink". Come on, total Canarian.

By the way, we had a great time. We left there later than 10 at night and, in total, we each put 12 euros. Well, 10 euros and 20 cents because I had misheard the person who did the accounts and, since I didn't put on my glasses, I confused a 20 cent coin with a euro. The difference was put by Juan Rivera, who was sitting next to me and insisted on putting it himself, because I had missed it arguing with Bartolo and the people I had on my other side, who were telling jokes.