Category: English

Root bags

By Simon

rutabaga, swede, (Swedish) turnip, neep, moot

One of the words that came up in the French conversation group last night was rutabaga [ʁy.ta.ba.ɡa], a root vegetable that originated as a cross between the cabbage and the turnip, and that was possibly introduced from Sweden.

The word rutabaga was borrowed in 1799 from the Swedish word rotabagge, a dialect word from Västergötland in southern Sweden, from rot (root) and‎ bagge (bag, short, stumpy object) [source].

This vegetable has a variety of names in different places:

  • In botanical Latin it is brassica napobrassica
  • In North America it is rutabaga, which is also used in French and Portuguese
  • In the England, Australia, New Zealand it is swede (from “Swedish turnip”).
  • In parts of northern England and the midlands, and in parts of Canada, it is a turnip.
  • In north east England swedes are known colloquially as snadgers, snaggers or narkiesno
  • In Wales it is swede or turnip in English, and as maip (Swedaidd), rwden, erfin, swedsen or swejen in Welsh.
  • In Cornwall it is turnip in English, and routabaga in Cornish.
  • In Scotland it is turnip in English, tumshie or neep in Scots, and snèap-Shuaineach (Swedish turnip / neep) in Scottish Gaelic. In parts of Scotland, particularly in the south east, it is baigie
  • In the Isle of Man it is turnip or moot in English, and as napin Soolynagh (Swedish turnip) in Manx.
  • In Ireland it is turnip in English and svaeid in Irish.
  • In Swedish it is kålrot (“cabbage/kale root”)

What other names does this vegetable have?

Sources: Wikipedia, Am Faclair Beag, Gerlyver Kernewek, foclóir.ie, Online Manx Dictionary

Glass eyes

By Simon

Glasögon

Recently I learnt an interesting word in Swedish – glasögon, which means glasses or spectacles, and literally means “glass eyes”.

Glas means glass, and comes from the Proto-Germanic *glasą (glass), from the Proto-Indo-European *ǵʰel- (to shine, shimmer, glow) [source].

Ögon is the plural of öga (eye), and comes from the Old Swedish ø̄gha (eye), from Old Norse auga (eye), from Proto-Germanic *augô (eye), from Proto-Indo-European *h₃ekʷ- (eye; to see) [source].

The Swedish word glas reminds me of the Russian word for eye, глаз (glaz), which I remember by thinking of a glass eye. Глаз comes from the Old East Slavic глазъ (glazŭ – ball, eye), from the Proto-Slavic *glazъ (ball), from Proto-Indo-European *g(ʰ)el- (round, spherical, stone) [source].

The Russian word for glasses is очки (ochki), which comes from очи (ochi), the plural of око (oko), the old Russian word for eye, which comes from the same Proto-Indo-European root as öga and eye [source].

In Danish and Norwegian, the word for glasses is briller, which means ‘a person wearing glasses’ in Dutch, and to shine or sparkle in French [source]. The German word for glasses is simliar – Brille, and the Dutch is bril [source].

Briller, Brille and bril come from the Middle High German berillus (beryl), from the Latin beryllus (beryl), probably from the Ancient Greek βήρυλλος (bḗrullos – beryl), from Sanskrit वैडूर्य (vaidurya – a cat’s eye gem; a jewel), from Dravidian. Probably named after the city Velur (modern day Belur / ಬೇಲೂರು) in Karnataka in southern India. The first glasses, made in about 1300 in Italy, were made from beryl [source].

Beryl is a mineral which comes from three forms: morganite (orange), aquamarine (blue-green – pictured top right) and heliodor (green-yellow).

The French word for glass, lunettes, means “little moons” [source].

Are there interesting words for glasses, spectacles, specs, or eyes in other languages?

Bulging Budgets!

By Simon

What do the words bulge, budge and budget have in common?

The answer is, they all come from the same root.

Bulge comes from the Old Northern French boulge (leather bag), from the Late Latin bulga (leather sack), from the Gaulish *bulga / *bulgos, from the Proto-Celtic *bolgos (sack, bag, stomach) [source], from the Proto-Indo-European *bʰelǵʰ- (to swell) [source].

Budge, in the sense of “a kind of fur prepared from lambskin dressed with the wool on, formerly used as an edging and ornament, especially on scholastic habits”, comes from the Middle English bouge (to swell out, to bilge) from the Late Latin bulga (leather sack) [source].

Budget comes from the Middle English bogett / bouget / bowgette (leather pouch), from the Old French bougette (purse for carrying coins), the diminutive of bouge (leather bag, wallet), from the Late Latin bulga (leather sack) [source].

The Proto-Celtic word *bolgos is also the root of bolg, which means belly, stomach, abdomen, buldge or hold in Irish; belly, stomach, abdomen, corporation, bilge or bowl in Manx; and blister, bilge, bulb or womb in Scottish Gaelic [source].

In the Brythonic languages *bolgos became bol (belly, paunch, abdomen, stomach, bowels; tripe; appetite, desire, gluttony, liking) in Welsh [source], bolgh (breach, gap, opening) in Cornish [source], and bolc’h in Breton [source].

Budge, in the sense of to move, comes from a different root: from the Middle French bougier, from Old French bougier, from the Vulgar Latin *bullicāre (to bubble; seethe; move; stir), from the Latin bullīre (to boil; seethe; roil) [source].

Kabei

By Simon

Examples of the Esperanto word kabei

The word kabei [ka.ˈbe.i] appears in one of the Duolingo Esperanto lessons I did today in the sentences, “Mi ne volas kabei” and “Neniu kabeos pro tio”.

From the words available for the translation, I worked out what it meant, but it’s not obvious. In order to understand this word, you have to know something about the history of Esperanto.

Kabei means “to leave the Esperanto movement”, so the first example means “I don’t want to leave the Esperanto movement”, and the second means “Nobody will leave the Esperanto movement because of that”.

This word is based on the pseudonym, Kabe, which was used by Kazimierz Bein (1872-1959), a Polish ophthalmologist and prominent member of the Esperanto movement. He wrote prose in Esperanto, translated novels into the language, and produced one of the first Esperanto dictionaries. At least until 1911, when he left the movement, without saying why. In 1931 Bein said that he didn’t think Esperanto was a viable solution for an international language.

Not long after he left the Esperanto movement his pseudonym became a Esperanto word meaning “to fervently and successfully participate in Esperanto, then suddenly and silently drop out”.

Another word that’s very specific to Esperanto that came up in today’s lessons is krokodili (lit. “to crocodile”), which means “to speak among Esperantists in a language besides Esperanto, especially one’s native language or a language not spoken by everyone present” [source], for example “Ne krokodilu!” (Do not speak your native language when Esperanto is more appropriate!).

The origins of this word are uncertain. It may be related to crocodile having large jaws, and to the action of flapping one’s jaws carelessly. Maybe is was used to refer to noisy non-Esperantists who disturbed an Esperanto group in Paris in the 1930s. Or it may come from Andreo Cseh, an Esperanto teacher who’s students had to speak Esperanto when holding a wooden crocodile he always had with him [source].

The antonym of krokodili is malkrokodili, which means “to speak Esperanto among non-Esperanto speakers”.

You could use both words together perhaps: “Li ĉiam krokodilis, kaj pro tio li devis kabei.” (He always spoke his native language instead of Esperanto, and therefore he had to leave the Esperanto movement).

More news from Lowender Peran

By Simon

Yesterday I learnt some Scottish step dancing with Joy Dunlop in the morning, which was a lot of fun and quite tiring, then in the afternoon there were performances from Cornish and Breton groups.

Cornish singing workshop

I also went to a Cornish shanty session with the Aggie Boys Choir, Tir Ha Tavas and Matt Blewett, and a Cornish tunes session hosted by Richard Trethewey of The Grenaways and The Rowan Tree. I didn’t know any of the tunes, but did my best to pick up bits of them. I also recorded some, and may try to learn them and introduce them to sessions in North Wales.

I even heard a few conversations in Cornish between fluent speakers, understood quite a bit of them, and even took part in a few conversations in Cornish myself. At the concert in the evening, which featured groups from Brittany, Cornwall and Wales, the introductions to the groups were in Cornish and English, and I found that I could follow quite a lot of the Cornish.

Towan Beach, Newquay

This morning I had another explore of Newquay and went down to Towan Beach, which seems to be very popular with surfers. Later today there will be more workshops in dancing and singing, readings of poetry and stories in Cornish, and more performances and dances.

Lowender Peren

By Simon

This weekend I’m in Newquay in Cornwall for the Lowender Peren festival of Celtic music and dance. This is the first time I’ve been to this particular festival, but I have been to pan-Celtic festivals in the Isle of Man before. There are performers and visitors here from all the Celtic lands – Cornwall, Brittany, Wales, Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man. I know quite a few of the people from the Isle of Man who are here, and a few from Scotland.

Lowender Peren

The name Lowender Peren means ‘Perran’s Mirth’ in Cornish. The word perran features in some Cornish places names, including Perranporth (Porthperan in Cornish), Perranzabuloe (Pyran yn Treth in Cornish) and Perranarworthal (Peran ar Wodhel in Cornish). It comes from Saint Piran (Peran in Cornish), a 5th century Cornish abbot who became the patron saint of tin miners, and is regarded as the patron saint of Cornwall.

The festival was offical opened last night with a speech in Cornish, and English, by a member of the Gorsedh Kernow, the Gorsedh of the Bards of Cornwall, possibly the Grand Bard herself. Gorsedh is ‘a meeting of bards’. She sounded fairly fluent, and I could actually understand some of the Cornish. I haven’t found anyone else here who speaks Cornish, apart from a few phrases.

Last night there was dancing to a local band, and then a trio of singers, members of the Lorho-Pasco family from Brittany, sang for us in Breton, and we improvised some dances. It was the first time I’d heard that style of Breton music. It works well for dancing, though I’m not sure if I’d want to listen to it for too long on its own.

I also spoke a bit of Manx with people I know from the Isle of Man, and some Scottish Gaelic with Joy Dunlop, a dancer and singer from Scotland who I know from Sabhal Mòr Ostaig.

Newquay

This morning there was an interesting talk about the history of Newquay. Then I went for a wander around the town. This afternoon we went for a guided walk around Newquay seeing some of the things that were mentioned in the talk.

There will be a lot more music, singing and dancing over the next few days. There was even a music session going on in the hotel where the festival is taking place when I went past not long ago.

When is the sky not the sky?

By Simon

Useful phrase in Danish

In Danish, Norwegian and Swedish the word sky means cloud, as does ský in Icelandic. The word for sky in these languages is himmel (himinn in Icelandic), and in Swedish sky also means sky or gravy.

I learnt the Danish word sky the other day from the sentence: Enhjørningen flyver på en sky (The unicorn is flying on a cloud) – are very useful thing to be able to say.

Sky comes from the Old Norse ský (cloud), from Proto-Germanic *skiwją (cloud, cloud cover), from Proto-Indo-European *(s)kew- (to cover, conceal), which is also the root of the English word sky [source].

The English word cloud comes from the Old English clūd (mass of stone, rock, boulder, hill), from Proto-Germanic *klūtaz / *klutaz (lump, mass, conglomeration), from Proto-Indo-European *gel- (to ball up, clench), which is also the root of the English words chill, cold, congeal, cool, gel, gelatin and jelly [source].

In Old English there were different words for sky and cloud:

  • heofon was the sky or heaven [source], which survives in such modern English expressions as ‘the heavens opened’ (it started to rain heavily).
  • wolcen was cloud, and the plural, wolcnu was the sky or the heavens [source]. This became welkin in modern English, an archaic and poetic word for the sky, the upper air; aether; the heavens.

A sunny day in Bangor / Dydd heulog ym Mangor

Polyglot Conference – Day 1

By Simon

The Polyglot Conference officially started today. There were talks and workshops all day on all sorts of interesting topics. I went to talks on Slovenian, linguistic relavtivity, Romani, the Cathars, and audiolinguistics. They were all interesting, especially the linguistic ones.

There was plenty of time between the talks to talk to other participants, and I managed to make some recordings in quite a variety of languages for the next episode of my podcast. I hope to make more recordings tomorrow.

I had conversations in English, Welsh, French, Irish, German, Russian, Mandarin, Japanese, and tried to speak a few other languages.

They are preparing Ljubljana for the Ljubljana Marathon tomorrow, and quite a few streets are being lined with barriers. I hope I’ll be able to get to the conference venue tomorrow.

Polyglotting in Ljubljana

By Simon

After arriving in Ljubljana yesterday I found a bus into the city centre, then walked to the AirBnB I’m staying in, which is more or less in the centre of the old town. It doesn’t look like much from outside – the door is covered in graffiti, and the outside of the building is rather plain, but inside the flat I’m in is very nicely decorated.

Ljubljana

Last night I had dinner at a restaurant by the Ljubljanica, the river that flows through Ljubljana. I saw quite a few people I know from previous polyglot events going past, and met some of them afterwards in a tapas restaurant.

So far I’ve spoken a little Slovenian, quite a bit of German, French and Welsh, and odd bits of other languages.

We spent today talking about the best ways to learn languages. This was interesting and there was some useful advice that I might try.

I haven’t had a lot of time to explore the city yet. The centre is quite compact and mostly pedestranised, with lots of interesting and colourful buildings.

This evening there was a concert with songs in many languages, then I went for dinner with quite a few other polyglots.

Slovenian (slovenščina)

By Simon

I’ve been learning Slovenian for nearly three months now, and will have chances to use it when I go to Slovenia in a few days. I’ll be there for the Polyglot Conference.

While I can’t say a lot in Slovenian yet, I have at least learnt the basics. I’ve been using a Memrise course based on Slovenian for Travelers, another version of which is available here.

As I’ve studied other Slavic languages to varying degrees – Russian, Czech, Slovak and Serbian – I can recognise quite a few words in Slovenian, and the grammar seems similar. I like the sound of Slovenian, and may continue learning it after the conference.

My favourite Slovenian words are currently: predvčerajšnjim (the day before yesterday) and pojutrišnjem (the day after tomorrow).

I plan to record an episode of the Radio Omniglot Podcast at the conference. It will be about the conference, and the people there, and will hopefully include recordings of participants speaking as many different languages as possible. Looking forward to it!