Choller (#AtoZChallenge 2015)

(Bit late with my C post, I know. I'll catch up, I promise.)

A choller at sunset.
(Image source)

Vagabond. Bum. Homeless person. Urchin. Junkie. Which certainly aren't exclusive of Curaçao, and actually aren't even all that ubiquitous here. (I'd rather be homeless in the tropics than in, say, Michigan. Or New York. But maybe that's just me.)

What is unique to Curaçao is the verb. Chollering.
I choller, you choller--or, like that famous phrase from You Know You've Lived in Curaçao If:

"... if you've ever chollered something."

A choller, because of his/her lifestyle of little (physical) baggage, has few needs. Clothing is worn until it falls apart, shoes are totally optional, haircuts unnecessary. Because of the drugs, even food isn't a must.

But drugs are. And they cost money.

They do odd jobs, if they find them--and if their health allows it; sadly, most have some kind of mental disorder, whether drug-induced or otherwise. Sometimes they beg. But their most reliable source of income is chollering.

At a construction site, a few bricks might go missing. A cellphone left unattended at a sidewalk cafe table might not last long. A pair of shoes left on a beach might not be there when you get back. Clothes set out to dry on a line too close to the street, or in a yard unprotected by dogs, might disappear. (And your favorite t-shirt show up later on the back of your neighborhood choller.)

Stealing, yes. But at a small-scale, opportunistic level. Something like purloin, I suppose. A car doesn't get chollered, nor does a TV or a car stereo. Pick-pocketing wouldn't be chollering, either.

But, as my fantastic friend Yolanda Wiel explained, "say a small business--handmade furniture, for instance--uses "I'm Living It" as a slogan. They've chollered that from McDonald's."

(If I didn't quote Yolanda, I'd be chollering this explanation.)