Week 22: Calle 13

A Culebra y Vieques.

This song was recorded and released free on the internet by Calle 13 three or four days after the death of Filiberto Ojeda Rios, leader of Los Macheteros. Although Ojeda Rios led a revolutionary life since his youth in the 50s, he is best known as the mastermind behind the theft of over $7 million from a Wells Fargo depot in Connecticut. The theft was carried out by a single man, Victor Gerena, in a rented car and its considered one of the largest thefts in US history. Gerena met up with Ojeda Rios and a few others in a nearby mobile home and a few days latter they were in Mexico. Gerena is still at large, but Ojeda Rios and 18 other Macheteros were arrested in relation to the theft in 1985. Ojeda Rios was released on bond and he quickly cut off the electronic monitoring device and became a fugitive. He remained mostly in Puerto Rico during his time as a fugitive. When the US government was searching for Osama Bin Laden, Puerto Ricans laughed and wondered how the US could expect to find Bin Laden in a huge country like Afganistan when they couldn’t find Filiberto in a tiny island like Puerto Rico. On September 23, 2005, twenty years after his escape and on the anniversary of El Grito de Lares, which is considered by most Puerto Ricans to be independence day (even though the event commemorates a 1868 failed liberation attempt from Spain), the FBI surrounded Ojeda Rios in his house with his wife. A shootout followed. His wife was allowed to leave the house and she told the agents that her husband was badly wounded and needed medical attention. The FBI did not allow any medics, or any local agency representatives to approach the perimeter, much less the house. They claimed they were concerned about explosives and had to wait for the special explosives team to arrive from Washington. Meanwhile Ojeda Rios bled to death in his house.

Here’s the song that Calle 13 released followed by my attempt at translating the lyrics. It is hard to translate reggeaton lyrics because like hip hop they are filled with very localized slang which doesn’t translate very well. In the translation I haven’t even attempted to retain any of the rhymes and just translated the content, which of course misses out on an integral part, but what can you do. I have also added a few notes in brackets.

Querido FBI (Dear FBI)

Dear compatriots, lawyers, professors, mayors and ratfinks, doctors, bosses, firemen, nurses, accountants, dealers, piragüeros [those who sell shaved ice from pull carts on the street], the whole world. I swear that I’m getting a Machetero outfit and tonight I’m going to hang 10 marines. Today my hand is chromed-plated and empty handed I’m gonna give ‘em a beating so you see how gas fries. They’ve soaked our flag in urine, he bled to death, my people, he bled to death. Never on his knees, they’re gonna have to burry him standing up, his machete by his side. Let’s activate La Perla, Llorens, Barbosa, Manuela, Caimito, Vista Hermosa, Covadonga, Camarones, Alturas, Torres Sabanas, Villa Esperanza, Sabana Abajo, Villa Fontana, Gladiolas, Villa Carolina, the town of Trujillo, Las Parcelas, San John, Monte Hatillo, Canales, San José, Río Grande, Luquillo, Puerta de Tierra, Santurce, Monasillo, all neighborhoods and projects, the FBI is in a mess of trouble. They are fucked, and fucked is the White House cause I’m going to explode in the name of Filiberto Ojeda Rios. They took out my right lung, but I can still breathe. I’m ready for a shoot out, but I can still breathe. I’m throwing rocks at the federals [the Federal US government]. And if there aren’t any rocks I’ll throw them a güiro [a percussion instrument made from a hollowed gourd]. Whatever I can find. They knocked down the man but not the idea. To all the federals I spit on you diarrhea. You make me sick, you make me nauseous. I know I’m loosing my head, it’s your fault fucking idiots. Calle 13 is in mourning. (Calm down brother, we have to be smart.) Shut up! Fucking federals, dumbasses and the state police, who did nothing, standing around with arms crossed. All they did was suck a cock. Fucking mother fucking government that allows this. Bunch of pigs, just a bunch of insects, and that’s why I protest. I protest because of the Ponce Massacre, protest because of Cerro Maravilla, and even for September 11.
To blow up those mother fuckers with fangs, we got 3.9 million [the number of Puerto Ricans on the island] knives. This is simple, I just had an idea, all we have to do is activate the gangs, instead of pointing to the other projects, point north where it’s colder. Radio has no balls and the White Lion [Calle 13’s record label) sales gave me the passport to shoot this cut.

This song, however, is not representative of Calle 13′s work. They are not a political group and I can’t think of any other song they have that is topical or political. They are also not an angry group and their beats usually rely on instruments such as accordion, tuba, and flute. By hip hop comparisons their style would be closer to De La Soul than Public Enemy, playful, eclectic, surreal. One thing is definite though, they are one of a very very small number of reggaeton groups that are breathing back some life into what has otherwise become one of the most annoying genres around.