¡BEAKSBAHPORERUBEAHHH!

by darrel young, pcv san pablo, nariño, 1961-63

My coming to terms with Colombian culture began in earnest at Tibaitatá, the Rockefeller Foundation Experimental Farm just outside Bogotá, where my Peace Corps group underwent in-country training. People were engaging, with a certain style and grace. Facilities were basic but adequate. Fresh boot-prints on the commode seat did give me pause from time to time but not enough to keep me from going about my business. Food was bland, but the big barrier was Spanish.

When we arrived in Colombia, I knew a lot of grammar rules and vocabulary lists, but if someone said Adios to me, I panicked! I had no real conversational ability, principally because I had developed no ear for the language. What I used to do at Tibaitatá, then, was listen to the radio at bedtime, hoping to gain some understanding of Spanish. This was, in the main, a relatively futile exercise, but I was strangely drawn to those intriguing but perplexing sounds coming out of the Colombian night. So I continued to listen, and as I did, one set of sounds perplexed me particularly.

Every night, at about the same time, in between songs, the same announcer would let loose a machine-gun-like burst of Spanish which I couldn’t understand or even come close to repeating, punctuated by a group of extremely well-enunciated nonsense syllables, or so they seemed, always with dramatic flair and smooth modulation. To my ear, it sounded something like this: Rat-a-tat, rata- tat, rat-a-tat-tat...BEAKS BAH PORE RUBE AHHH! Then more of the same. BE AKS BAH POR RUBE AHHH was repeated, with great emphasis, over and over, with that last AHHH sliding to a much lower pitch.

BEAKS BAH PORE RUBE AHHH, I couldn’t not think about it! It didn’t sound like any Spanish I knew, but I knew so little. I checked my new Velazquez dictionary, with various variations in spelling. No help whatsoever! I asked some of the better Spanish speakers in our group, but their responses never got much beyond “BE AKS BAHPAH what?”

As our time at Tibaitatá drew to an end, I continued to hear the phrase, same time, same channel, but never made sense of it. Eventually, I got on with my Peace Corps life, went to my site and had more pressing matters on my mind. I guess, at some level, I had written BE AKS BAH PORE RUBE AHHH off as one of those inscrutable mysteries which only add to the allure of the beautiful Spanish language.

Some six months later, I’m in Bogotá for a conference or get-together, and first night back, right out of my hotel radio, BE AKS BAH PORE RUBE AHHH catches me by surprise and reinserts itself back into my consciousness! Now however, I know more Spanish terms; my ear is more attuned. I begin to catch words which previously flew right by me.

Pieces of the puzzle come together, first one, then another and then it hits me! It’s a creative Colombian announcer’s inspired interpretation of a.........VICK’S VAPOR RUB commercial! Ahhh...!

Mystery over, but not my fascination with Spanish. It continues its hold on me, even to this day.

Contact the author at barb7801@hctc.net