BajaNomad

Sobrecargo

fdt - 1-19-2007 at 07:01 AM

La sobrecargo
El tipo sentado en el bar del aeropuerto de Los Angeles, observa a una
chica
bonita con uniforme pero sin insignia sentada cerca de él y
piensa:
¡Guao! Esta nena tiene que ser azafata. Pero, ¿de qué Línea Aérea
será?
Con la esperanza de buscarle conversación, se acerca y le dice un
eslogan
en Inglés: *- Love to fly and it shows...*
La muchacha lo mira confundida, y él se dice a sí mismo:
Esta no trabaja para Delta. Un rato después, recuerda otro slogan y
le
dice: *- Something Special in the air...? *
Ella le da otra confusa mirada y el tipo, en su
mente se dice: Tampoco como que es de American Airlines.
La próxima prueba: *- I Would really love to fly your friendly
skies...*
Esta vez la chica le contesta: Bueno, pendejo.... ¿qué chingados
quieres?
El hombre sonríe y le dice:
- Ahhh....¡Aerocalifornia!*

oxxo - 1-19-2007 at 08:44 AM

Muchas gracias. :lol::lol: No hablo Espanol mui bueno, pero entiendo este en todo sin un dicionario.

Azafata

Oso - 1-20-2007 at 10:50 AM

I've always thought of Sobrecargo as the assistant to the driver on a second class chicken bus, the guy who puts bicycles, bundles, pigs, etc. on top and collects tickets.

"Azafata" as a term for stewardess has a very interesting modern history, recounted by my friend Ing. Arturo Ortega Moran. This was translated by un servidor and posted on Baja.net three years ago. I'm reprinting it here just because...



By Ing. Arturo Ortega Moran:
(Translation by Oso)

There, where words live, is a place apart called "The corner of the archaisms". This is the retirement home for thrown-away words, those which only wait to be totally forgotten in order to pass on to the cemetery of dead words. In this corner, with a long history about to end, was "azafata".

Among the Arab words that came to the Iberian Peninsula, "sáfat" was the name of a small basket in which women would place their perfumes and toiletries. With the passage of time, the word was integrated into Castilian in the form of "azafate". In 1726, the azafate was defined as " a type of small basket, plain woven of wicker strands, raised in the circumference in the form of four fingers netted within the same work. It is also made of straw, gold, silver and varnish in the same form and manner."

To someone, long forgotten, it occurred that "azafata" would be a good name for the ladies who, in an azafate, carried the garments and jewelry of the queen. In the Diccionario de Autoridades (1726), it says: "Azafata: a post of the royal house, served by a widow of nobility, who guards and keeps in her power the jewelry and dresses of the queen, and who enters to awaken her with the head chambermaid and a lady of honor, carrying in an azafate, the dress and other things that the queen will wear, which she hands to the head chambermaid as needed. She is called azafata for the azafate that she carries and has in her hands while the queen dresses."

For centuries, queens came and queens went and azafatas remained with their azafate in hand. One fine day, it happened that the winds of democracy began to blow and, bit by bit, dispersing the royal families, in some cases making them disappear and in others, turning them into simple "decorative objects". The azafatas had to disappear and the word "azafata" soon found itself "unemployed". That is when, much to its chagrin, it had to retire to "the corner of archaisms".

The luck of "azafata" changed one day in the year 1936. César Gómez Lucía, executive of a Spanish airline, upon seeing the ladies with tray in hand, attending to the airline passengers, remembered the old story and called them "azafatas". That is how this word came back to life. Now, the future looks bright for "azafata". It has left the "corner of archaisms" and with renewed enthusiasm has enlisted in the army of active words which promptly answer the call of he who seeks to "give body" to an idea to say or write it.

Not many words can presume to know the year of their birth or the person who cradled them. Now, "azafata", with its new meaning, aside from being "resuscitated", can be proud of being one of few words with a "birth certificate", or in this case "rebirth".