Grammarless

The other day a friend claimed that Jamaican Patois (Jimiekn / Patwah), an English-based creole spoken in Jamaica, ‘has no grammar’.

I understand why they think this, but it’s not true. Every language has grammar, in the sense of a set of patterns and conventions for how sounds go together to form words (morphology), and how words go together to form sentences (syntax). There are also conventions for how the sounds are pronounced (phonology) how they’re represented in writing (orthography).

In some languages words may change to indicate their function in a sentence and their relationship to other words. Verbs may conjugate to show such things as person and tense. Nouns and other words may change to indicate things like gender (masculine, feminine, etc), number (singular, plural, etc), and case (nominative, accusative, dative, etc).

In other languages, such as Chinese, words do not change, but you use grammatical particles to indicate things like when something is happening, whether it is still happening, and so on. You just have to put the words in the right order and choose the right particles. You don’t have to worry about verb endings and other ways words can change.

If you think of grammar as things like verb endings, noun declensions and such like, then you could say that isolating languages like Chinese and Thai have less grammar than European languages.

In the same way, you could say that Jamaican has less grammar than English, or that Jamaican just works in a different way to English. It is not broken or poor English, and has its own structure and rules.

Here are some examples of how Jamaican and English differ:

  • Mi run = I run (habitually); I ran
  • Mi a run / Mi de run = I am running
  • A run mi did a run = I was running
  • Mi did run = I have run; I had run
  • Mi a go run = I am going to run; I will run

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jamaican_Patois

You can hear a bit more Jamaican here:

Jammy Beef

The French expression faire un bœuf (“doing a beef/ox”) means to jam or have a jam session. A jam (session) can happen at any time when musicians get together and jam, or play and/or sing in an informal or improvised way.

Why do they say faire un bœuf though? What does improvising music have to do with oxen or beef?

Well, it comes from Le Boeuf sur le Toit (The Ox on the Roof), a celebrated Parisian cabaret-bar founded in 1921 by Louis Moysés. In the 1920s and 30s especially, it was popular with musicians and singers, and improvised jam sessions often broke out there. Such activities have been known as bœufs ever since. The bar still exists, but is now a fancy restaurant and apparently no longer has the glamour, social cachet and bohemian atmosphere that it once had [source].

It is not known why we call such activities jam sessions in English. Apparently jam was first used in this way in the 1920s among jazz musicians. Possibly because it involves muscians getting together in one place, e.g. jamming themselves into a room. Or jam might refer to something sweet or a nice treat, which was one meaning of the word that emerged in the 19th century [source].

I’ve played instruments and/or sung in jam sessions in pubs, boats, trains, churches, vineyards, gardens, community centres, castles, fields, airports, mountains and other places. There are always great fun and I miss them.

Here’s a video from a folk music session that used to happen in Tafarn Y Glob, a pub in Bangor, and will start again one of these days, hopefully:

The Welsh session in the Glôb

Are there interesting ways to refer to jam sessions in other languages?

Underdirecting

The Dutch word onderrichten [ˌɔn.dərˈrɪx.tə(n)] means to teach, instruct or educate. It comes from onder (under-, sub-, lower) and richten (to direct, aim) [source]. So you could say that education in Dutch involves supporting and directing students.

09-11-1949_06528A Max Euwe in de klas

Another Dutch word meaning to teach or educate is onderwijzen [ˌɔn.dərˈʋɛi̯.zə(n)], which comes from onder and wijzen (to point, indicate, direct) [source] – so it has a similiar sense to onderrichten.

An onderwijzer or onderwijzeres is a teacher in a primary / elementary school (lagere school / basisschool) and they provide onderwijs (education, teaching), or more specifically, basisonderwijs (primary / elementary education). A word for to teach is onderwijzen.

A teacher in a secondary school (middelbare school) is a leraar or lerares, they leren (teach) and they might be found in a leraarskamer / lerarenkamer (staffroom).

Other words for education are opleiding and opvoeding. Opleiding means education, training or a programme, and comes from opleiden (to lead up; to bring up, educate; to coach, train), from op (up) and leiden (to lead) [source].

Opvoeding means education (at home), upbringing, raising (children) and comes from opvoeden (to raise, to bring up (a child)), from op (up) and voeden (to feed) [source].

The English word education comes from the Middle French éducation (education, upbringing), from Latin ēducātiō (breeding, bringing up, rearing), from ēdūcō (I lead, draw, take out, raise up), from ex (out, away, up) and dūcō (I lead, guide, conduct) [source]. So it has a similar meaning to onderrichten and onderwijzen.

The English words teacher and teach come from the Old English tǣċan (to show, declare, demonstrate; teach, instruct, train), from the Proto-Germanic *taikijaną (to show), from the Proto-Indo-European *deyḱ- (to show) [source].

Thanks to Anna Rutten for inspiring this post

Timely Tempests

If you are in the eye of the storm you are in the center or most intense part of a tumultuous situation, or literally in the calm region at the centre of a storm, hurricane, cyclone or typhoon [source].

Super Typhoon Trami | Supertaifun Trami

In French equivalents of the eye of the storm include l’oeil du cyclone (the eye of the cyclone), l’œil de la tempête (the eye of the storm) and le cœur de la tempête (the heart of the storm) [source].

The French word tempête (storm, tempest), and the English word tempest both come from the Old French tempeste (storm, tempest), from the Latin tempesta (storm, tempest), from tempestās (storm, tempest, weather, season) from tempus (time, weather), from the Proto-Indo-European *tempos (stretch) [source].

The French word temps (time, weather), comes from the same root, as does the Spanish word tiempo (time, weather), Italian word tempo (time, weather) and related words in other languages.

The expression a tempest in a teapot, meaning ‘a small event that has been exaggerated out of proportion’, dates from 1818, and is apparently the American English equivalent of the British English storm in a teacup. Before then the equivalent was a storm in a creambowl, which dates from the 1670s [source]. Other versions of this phrase include a tempest/storm in a glass of water and a storm in a wash-hand basin [source].

In French you could talk about une tempête dans un verre d’eau (a storm in a glass of water)

Soul Deer

The Dutch word dier [diːr / diər] means animal and is cognate with the English word deer, which originally meant animal, but the meaning narrowed over time. They are also cognate with words for animal in other Germanic languages, such as Tier in German, dyr in Danish and Norwegian, dýr in Faroese and Icelandic, and djur in Swedish [source].

deer

Dier comes from the Middle Dutch dier (animal), from the Old Dutch dier (animal), from the Proto-West Germanic *deuʀ ((wild) animal, beast), from the Proto-Germanic *deuzą ((wild) animal, beast), from the Proto-Indo-European *dʰewsóm [source], from *dʰews- (to breathe, breath, spirit, soul, creature) [source].

Some related words include:

  • dierdicht = poem about anthropomorphised animals
  • dierenarts = vet (mainly one who treats pets)
  • dierenrijk = animal kingdom
  • dierentuin = zoo
  • dierkunde = zoology
  • dierlijk = animal, beastly, instinctive, primitive
  • huisdier = pet
  • landbouwhuisdier = farm animal
  • zoogdier = mammal

Deer comes from the same root, via the Middle English deere, dere, der, dier, deor (small animal, deer), from the Old English dēor (animal) [source].

From the PIE root *dʰews- we also get the Russian word душа [dʊˈʂa] (soul, spirit, darling), via the Old East Slavic доуша (duša – soul), and the Proto-Slavic *duša (soul, spirit), and related words in other slavic languages.

Another Dutch word for animal is beest [beːst] which is cognate with the English word beast. Both come from the same PIE root as dier/deer (*dʰews-): beest via the Middle Dutch beeste (animal), from the Old French beste (beast, animal), from the Latin bēstia (beast) [source], and beast via the Middle English beeste, beste (animal, creature, beast, merciless person) [source].

Some related words include:

  • feestbeest = party animal
  • knuffelbeest = stuffed toy animal (“cuddle-beast”)
  • podiumbeest = someone who enjoys being on stage and is often on stage
  • wildebeest = wildebeest, gnu

The English word animal is also related to souls and spirits as it comes via Middle English and Old French, from the Latin anima (soul, spirit, life, air, breeze, breath) [source].

The Dutch word for deer is hert [ɦɛrt], which comes from the Old Dutch hirot, from the Proto-Germanic *herutaz (deer, stag), from the Proto-Indo-European *ḱerh₂- (horn). The English word hart comes from the same root via the Old English heorot (stag), and means a male deer, especially a male red deer after his fifth year [source].

Here’s an audio version of this post.

Spanish Cows

comme une vache espagnole

In French if you don’t speak a langauge very well, you are said to speak it “like a Spanish cow”, or “comme une vache espagnole” [source]. For example:

  • Il parle anglais comme une vache espagnole
    He speaks English like a Spanish cow
  • Elle parle français comme une vache espagnole
    She speaks French like a Spanish cow

This expression was first used in writing in the 17th century, and possibly referred to vasces, that is Gascons or Basques, rather than vaches, or cows. At the time, Basque people from Spain probably didn’t speak French very well. Or it might come from basse (servant, maid), or from the use of comme une vache as an insult. Also, calling people and things espagnole (Spanish) was also an insult at the time [source].

In English you might say that someone speaks broken English or bad English, or that they butcher or murder English. Although, as the American author H. Jackson Brown Jr. says “Never make fun of someone who speaks broken English. It means they know another language” [source].

You could make up other ways to say you speak a language badly:

  • I speak Russian like a Pavlovian pig
  • I speak Czech like a Bohemian badger
  • I speak Romanian like a Ruritanian rabbit

Are there idioms in other languages to refer to people speaking them badly, or indeed well?

Here’s an audio version of this post.

In the Same Boat

All in the same boat

Over the past year, and before, we’ve often been told that we’re all “in the same boat”, at least in the UK. The intention is to suggest that we are all in a similar situation or predicament, and the expression is often used by those in positions of power, wealth and privilege.

The idea of being in the same boat meaning ‘having the same fate’ first appeared in writing in 1584 in Thomas Hudson’s translation of Du Bartas’ Historie of Judith:

haue ye paine ? so likewise paine haue we :
For in one bote we both imbarked be.
Vpon one tide, one tempest doeth vs tosse,
Your common ill, it is our common losse.

It appeared more or less in the current form in writing by Thomas Taylor, a British cleryman in 1629. He said:

He is in the same boate which is tossed and threatned with the tempest, and is someway interessed in the common cause, and quarrell.

Source: phrases.org.uk

Equivalents of this phrase in French include:

  • être logés à la même enseigne = to be lodged at the same sign
  • être dans le même bateau = to be in the same boat
  • être dans la même galère = to be in the same galley
  • être dans la même barque = to be in the same rowing boat
  • être dans le même pétrin = to be in the same kneading trough
  • être dans le même bain = to be in the same bath

Source: Reverso.net

Which of these, if any, is most commonly used?

In other languages, such as Dutch, German, Italian, Spanish, Russian and Japanese, you can talk about being in the same boat. Are there any languages in which this idea is referred to without mentioning boats?

Standing and Gripping

Today I came to undestand that the Dutch words begrijpen and verstaan both mean to understand, however they’re used in different contexts and have somewhat different meanings.

Begrijpen [bəˈɣrɛi̯pə(n)] means to understand concepts, ideas etc. or to get (a rise out of sb). It comes from the prefix be- and grijpen (to grab) [source].

Some related words include:

  • begrip = understanding, concept, term
  • begrijplijk = understandable, comprehensible, intelligible
  • begripvol = understanding, supportive
  • onbegrip = incomprehension
  • verkeerd begrijpen = to misunderstand

Verstaan [vərˈstaːn] means (1) to understand (language, words), to hear clearly, or (2) to understand (an idea): the first meanings are more common, and begrijpen is generally used when talking about understanding ideas.

It comes from the Middle Dutch verstaen (to be responsible for, to understand, to hear, to listen, to pay attention, to notice), from the Old Dutch farstān (to understand), from the Proto-Germanic *fura (in front of, against) and *stāną (to stand) [source].

Some related words include:

  • verstaand = reason, mind, intellect, brains, wit, understanding, knowledge
  • verstandelijk = intellectual
  • verstandhouding = understanding (the ability to get along with others)
  • verstandig = sensible, wise, able-minded
  • onverstandig = unwise, insensible
  • verstandigheid = understand, good sense
  • verstandskies = wisdom tooth
  • misverstaan = to misunderstand, misapprehend

Another word meaning to understand is snappen, which also means to get or catch.

Do other languages make a similar distinction between understanding ideas and understanding languages and words?

There are various words in English for understanding:

  • to understand = to know and comprehend the nature or meaning of; to realize or grasp (something); to know how to translate or read; to be sympathetic to or compatible with
  • to know = to understand as true, to have a practical understanding of, as through experience; be skilled in:
  • to comprehend – to take in the meaning, nature, or importance of; grasp.
  • to get = to gain or have understanding of
  • to grasp = to take hold of intellectually; comprehend
  • to grok = to understand profoundly through intuition or empathy

Shivery Types

Koukleum

Are you a shivery type? Or maybe a heat freak? Or in other words, do you prefer warmer temperatures, and turn up the heating when it gets cold?

If so, then you could call yourself a koukleum [ˈkɑu̯kløːm], a Dutch word meaning a “person who is often/easily cold, person bothered by the cold a lot” [source], or a ‘shivery type’ [source]. It comes from kou (a low temperature situation) and kleumen (to be stiff with cold) [source].

Related words include:

  • koukleumen = to suffer in low temperatures
  • kleumen = to be stiff with cold
  • kleumer = a person who is prone to cold; a cold or untrustworthy person
  • kleumerig = stiffened from the cold

The German word Frostbeule has a similar meaning to koukleum, and also means frostbite or chilblain [source].

A koukleum might suffer from cryophobia (an abnormal fear of ice or frost; a morbid fear of freezing) [source], and might be a cryophobic, which is the nearest English word I can find.

The opposite of cryophobic is cryophilic, which usually refers to plants or animals and means “having an affinity for or thriving at low temperatures; able to thrive at low temperatures” [source].

According to this article, about 20% of people have a genetic mutation which makes them better able to resist cold temperatures and to live in cold climates.

I’m not a koukleum, and in fact prefer cooler temperatures. I haven’t found a word for this preference in Dutch, English or other languages. How about you?

Big Cheesy Smiles

big cheese / le stort

If you’re a ‘big cheese‘, you’re an important, successful, or influential person, and/or you have an important and powerful position in an organization. Alternatively you might be called, or call yourself, a big fish, big gun, big noise, big shot, or big wheel [source].

Apparently the word cheese was used in the 19th century to mean something that was good, genuine, pleasant or advantageous. In John Camden Hotten’s The Slang Dictionary of 1863 it is defined as:

Cheese, anything good, first-rate in quality, genuine, pleasant, or advantageous, is termed the cheese. The London Guide, 1818, says it was from some young fellows translating “c’est une autre chose” into “that is another cheese.” But the expression cheese may be found in the Gipsy vocabulary, and in the Hindostanee and Persian languages. In the last chiz means a thing—that is the thing, i.e., the cheese.

In Urdu چیز (cheez) does mean thing [source]. The same word in Persian (Farsi) means article, entity, item, matter, object, stuff or thing [source]. In Hindi चीज (cīj) means thing, matter, object or concern [source].

Some other interesting cheese-related from the The Slang Dictionary include:

Cheese, or cheese it (evidently a corruption of cease), leave off, or have done; “cheese your barrikin,” hold your noise. Term very common.

Cheesecutter, a prominent and aquiline nose. Also a large square peak to a cap. Caps fitted with square peaks are called cheesecutter caps.

Cheesy, fine or showy. The opposite of “dusty.”

Nowadays the meaning of cheesy has changed a bit, and means “vulgarly pretentious or sentimental”, “banal, trite or in poor taste” or “inferior, cheap and shoddy” [source].

The expression big cheese first appeared in O. Henry’s 1910 novel Unprofessional Servant in which it meant ‘wealth or fame’. The meaning of an important person first appears in The Olean Evening Times in June 1922 as, “The big mayor of Olean fair, You’re the big cheese on the scene.” [source].

In Swedish the equivalent of a big cheese is le stort, or a ‘big smile’, which certainly makes me smile.

What about in other languages?