Caetano W. Galindo says he decided to “recauchutar” an older column—that is, rework it—and the choice of verb led him to examine how its meaning has changed over time. The word originally referred to covering a worn tire with a new layer of rubber, but is now also used in the broader sense of refreshing or giving something a makeover.
Galindo points to the difference between “recauchutar” and a verb such as “repaginar,” which means to revamp something and retains a clear link to the word for “page.” With “recauchutar,” the connection to tires and rubber has faded from everyday awareness.
The word’s path leads through French “caoutchouc,” meaning rubber, to Quechua, a language originating in South America that Galindo says is still spoken by more than seven million people. He connects that origin to the rubber tree’s native range in the Amazon: the word, he writes, traveled with the material it named.
Galindo also discusses “borracha,” the Portuguese word for rubber. He traces it to Spanish, where it referred to leather containers used to hold drinks. As containers made from the newly encountered rubber began to appear in the Americas, the name for the object came to refer to the material itself.
Together, these word histories, Galindo argues, carry traces of centuries of colonialism and cultural and economic exchange across the Amazon, Spain, France, Portugal and Brazil. They also show how a metaphor can become obscured as words move across languages and time.
In a postscript, Galindo returns to the origins of the Portuguese words for autumn and winter. “Outono” comes from Latin “autumnus,” while “inverno” derives from “hibernus.” He notes that “autumnus” may have an even older, possibly Etruscan origin, and that Portuguese also retains “hibernar,” a related form meaning to hibernate.
Sources: Folha Ilustrada.