‘Lep’ is ball, ‘box’ is shower

SAO PAULO, BRAZIL - Let’s begin today with a short vocabulary lesson.

Here’s how it will work: I’ll list a word, and you ponder for a couple of seconds what you think that word might mean. Then, read on to see if your definition of the word is correct. Easy, right?

OK, first word: box.

This one may appear simple, but looks can be deceiving – take the time to really explore what you think “box” might mean. All right, ready to find out the definition?

A “box” is a shower.

Too tricky? All right, let’s try another word: outdoor.

What might the word “outdoor” mean? Have you formulated some thoughts? Well, let’s compare those to the definition I’ve been using as of late – an “outdoor” is a billboard.

Those students who are Indiana natives might find this lesson reminiscent of the ISTEP+ memory test we were coerced into taking in elementary school.

The objective of the test was to match simple words, such as “ball” and “tiger,” with their respective made-up nonsense counterparts, which were “lep” and “korf,” without looking back at the sheet that told us which nonsense words matched particular arbitrary definitions.

Indeed, for most – if not all – of the readers of this column, the above definitions of “box” and “outdoor” likely seem as arbitrary and nonsensical as the ISTEP+ inventions.

However, to any Brazilian Lusophone who might be reading this, the above definitions of “box” and “outdoor” make complete sense.

That is because Brazilian Portuguese, like so many other languages in the world, has assimilated English words and phrases into its own vocabulary. Many of these words and phrases, like “e-mail,” “Internet” and “fast food,” have the same meaning in Brazilian Portuguese as they do in American English.

As we’ve already seen, however, several other English words and phrases have taken on different meanings in Brazil.

Take the word “cheeseburger,” for example. About a month ago, I sat down at a diner sort of restaurant here in São Paulo and ordered a “cheese salada.” The “cheese” was short for “cheeseburger,” and “salada” means with lettuce and tomato and the like.

Thus, I was dismayed when I received a cheese-less hamburger five minutes later.
“Sorry,” I said to the man at the counter. “But I think you got my order wrong. I ordered a cheese salada.”

“Oh, but that is a cheese salada,” he responded.

“So a cheese salada doesn’t come with cheese?” I asked.

“No, it doesn’t, sorry,” he said.

In addition, whereas some English words take on new meanings in Brazilian
Portuguese, other words retain their original meaning in Brazil while losing that meaning or falling out of use in the United States.

The most commonly used phrase for “flash drive” in Brazil, for instance, is “pen drive.”

While “pen drive” continues to be used in American English, it has been largely replaced by the aforementioned “flash drive” in the United States.

While the proliferation of English in Brazilian Portuguese is a poignant reminder of the strength of globalization, the particular manner in which Brazilian Portuguese has assimilated English vocabulary shows us that perhaps globalization won’t eventually result in the worldwide monolithic mono-culture we might fear.

Elements of culture, like vocabulary, as well as computer technology, music and fashion, all take on new and different meanings in different cultural contexts.

Thus, just like people, their characteristics vary from place to place, and they are continually evolving.