Beards and chins

6 February 2018 By Simon

Illustration of a beard

One of the Romanian lessons I did today was about parts of the body. One word that came up was bărbie [bərˈbi.e], which I guessed meant beard, but actually means chin. I suppose beards usually grow on chins, so this isn’t too surprising.

Bărbie comes from the Vulgar Latin *barbilia, from the Latin barba (beard; wool; down on a plant). Or from the Romanian barbă (beard) +‎ -ie (a noun suffix) [source].

In Spanish chin is barbilla [barˈβiʎa] – barba (beard) with a diminutive suffix, so it could be translated as “little beard” [source].

The English word beard comes from the Middle English berd, bard, bærd, from the Old English beard, from Proto-Germanic *bardaz, from the Proto-Indo-European *bʰardʰeh₂, all of which mean beard. The PIE word *bʰardʰeh₂ is also the root of words for beard in Germanic, Slavic, Romance and Iranian languages [source], and in Welsh (barf) Cornish (barv) and Breton (barv) [source].

In the Gaelic / Goidelic languages however, the words for beard are different: féasóg in Irish, feusag in Scottish Gaelic, and faasaag in Manx. The come from the Old Irish fésóc, from fés (lip; body hair) [source].

Are words for beards and chins similar in other languages?

The Foreshortening Dark

14 December 2017 By Simon

December in various languages

In many languages this month is known as December, or something similar, which comes ultimately from the Latin *decumo-mēnsris (of the tenth month) – the Roman calendar started in March (mārtius) [source].

However in some languages December has a completely different name:

In Welsh December is Rhagfyr [ˈr̥aɡvɨ̞r], which means the ‘foreshortening’, from rhagfyrhau (to foreshorten), from rhag (a prefix with various meanings) and byr (short, small) [source].

In Breton December is miz Kerzu [miz ˈkɛʁ.zy] – which means ‘very dark month’. The Cornish for December is similar and has the same meaning: Mys Kevardhu [source].

In Scottish Gaelic December is Dùbhlachd, From dubh (dark), so it’s a dark time [source].

In Irish December is Mí na Nollag (the month of Christmas). Nollag is the genetive of Nollaig, which comes from the Old Irish Notlaic (Christmas), from Latin nātālīcia (a birthday party), from nātālis (natal), from nātus (born) [source].

In Finnish December is joulukuu (Christmas/yule moon) [source], which was also the meaning of the Old English word for this month: Gēolmōnaþ.

In Czech December is prosinec [prɔsɪnɛt͡s], which comes from prosinoti (flashing, shining) [source].

In Polish December is grudzień [ˈɡru.d͡ʑɛɲ], from the Proto-Slavic *grudьnъ, from *gruda (heap, lump) & *-ьnъ [source].

Are there interesting names for December in other languages?

A River of Words

3 November 2017 By Simon

When Iceland was permanently settled from 874 AD, the settlers from Norway brought with them wives and thralls (þrælar – slaves/serfs) from Ireland. The Norwegians spoke a form of Old Norse, which developed into modern Icelandic, and borrowed a few words from the Irish.

Here are some examples:

á = river – from the Old Irish aub (river). The Old Norse word for river was fljót.
áin = (act of) driving – from Old Irish áin = (act of driving (animals etc))
bagall = crozier, from the Old Irish bachall (staff, crook, crozier). The Old Norse word for crozier / staff was stafr.
brekán = blanket, quilt, from the Old Irish breccán (speckled thing, striped or chequered stuff, plaid)
bjannak = blessing, from the Old Irish bennacht (blessing)
tarfur = bull, from the Old Irish tarb (bull). The Old Norse word for bull was þjórr.

Icelandic has also absorbed words from Latin, Greek, Middle Low German and Danish. Some of these words are no longer used, but new loanwords, mainly from Danish and English, are streaming into the language, especially in the fields of IT and medicine. One example I heard about was móment being used instead of augnablik (‘eye-blink’) for moment.

Sources: Wiktionary, Germanic.eu, eDil

Heim aftur / Home again

1 November 2017 By Simon

The Polyglot Conference is over now for another year, and I arrived back to Bangor yesterday. Although the conference only lasted two days, a lot was packed into that time.

On the Friday I went on a Golden Circle tour with two coach loads of other polyglots. Unfortunately it was a wet, cloudy and cold day, so the views were not great, but the landscape we could see was rather fine.

The first stop was Þingvellir (Thingvellir), a World Heritage Site where the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates meet. It is also where the Iceland parliament (Alþingi) met from AD 930 until 1798.

Þingvellir / Thingvellir

Next we went to Geysir, and area of volcanic activity with a number of sprouting hot springs, including the famous Great Geysir, which is currently inactive, and Stokkur, which erupts every few minutes (see photo below). We also had lunch here – there are a number of eating places and souvenir shops in the complex near the hot springs. I was expecting the whole place to stink of sulphur, but it didn’t really.

Þingvellir / Thingvellir

Our final stop was Gullfoss (“Golden Falls”), waterfalls in the canyon of Ölfusá river. They were spectacular, and well worth seeing.

Gullfoss

In the evening, after we arrived back in Reykajvik, I went for dinner at an Indian restaurant with a few other polyglots.

The conference started on Saturday morning with interesting speeches by Dr Sebastian Drude, the director of the Vigdís International Centre for Multilingualism and Intercultural Understanding, and Vigdís Finnbogadóttir, the former President of Iceland and UNESCO Goodwill Ambassador for languages.

Vigdís Finnbogadóttir opening the 2017 Polyglot Conference in Reykjavik

Then there were talks on a variety of topics, with themes including Icelandic language and culture, bilingualism and autism, and maintaining ‘small’ languages. Some of the speakers were lecturers or researchers in universities, others were language enthusiasts. The talks I found most interesting were the one by Daniel Tammet and Sigriður Kristinsdóttir about how he learnt Icelandic in a week with her help; one about bilingualism and autism, one about the cognitive effects of language learning, and one about Mongolian.

The 2017 Polyglot Conference in Reykjavik

There was plenty of time between the talks and at lunch to catch up with old friends, meet new ones and practise languages. During my time in Iceland, I had conversations in English, Welsh, French, German, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Mandarin, Japanese and Irish, and spoke bits of Czech, Scottish Gaelic, Breton, Manx, Swedish and Icelandic.

Lunch was provided – small sandwiches and wraps, though didn’t appeal to me, so I bought something else in a supermarket.

A panel discussuion at the 2017 Polyglot Conference in Reykjavik

There weren’t any organised activities in the evenings, as there are at the Polyglot Gatherings. Instead babbles of polyglots went off to do their own thing. I went for dinner with some polyglot friends and had very interesting discussions about all sorts of things, not all of which were related to languages – we do have other interests.

The annoucement of where the Polyglot Conference will be in 2018

The next Polyglot Conference will be in Ljubljana in Slovenia from 5-7 October 2018 (as you might have guessed from this photo). So next year I will learn some Slovenian before the conference in Ljubljana, and some Slovak before the Polyglot Gathering in Bratislava in Slovakia.

On Monday I did some work on Omniglot in the morning, explored Reykjavik a bit, had lunch in a restaurant in the old harbour area of Reykjavik, did some more work, then explored a bit more with the two Russian teachers who were staying in the same place as me.

Iceland is a very expensive place, which I expected. Meals in restaurants cost at least twice as much as in the UK, as do most other things. It wasn’t as cold as I expected – about 7-10°C during the day and 2-5°C at night. All the locals I met speak very good English, but if you speak Icelandic, they’re happy to speak it with you. There are apparently quite a few people who have moved to Iceland recently for work, most don’t speak Icelandic. On a clear, dry day, the scenery is spectacular. Even on grey, wet days, it’s still impressive and dramatic.

There are some more photos on Flickr:

Café Lingua – lifandi tungumál

27 October 2017 By Simon

Yesterday evening I went to Café Lingua – lifandi tungumál at the University of Iceland / Háskóli Íslands. It’s a regular meet-up for language enthusiasts, and last night there were a lot of extra people there who are in Reykjavik for the Polyglot Conference. It was great to see lots of familiar faces, and to meet new people.

I had conversations in English, Welsh, Irish and Mandarin, and spoke odd bits of Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Cantonese, Swedish, Icelandic, Czech, Russian, Finnish and French. Other languages were available.

Today I’m going on a Golden Circle tour with other Polyglot Conference participants.

Coming Home to Irish

17 August 2017 By Simon

Coming Home: One man's return to the Irish Language

While I was in Ireland last month I went to an interesting talk by Michael McCaughan at which he launched his book, Coming Home: One man’s return to the Irish Language.

I have just finished reading the book, and found it very interesting. Although he had to study Irish in school, like everybody else in Ireland, he wasn’t able to speak the language after finishing school. While working as a journalist in South America, he was often asked about the Irish language when people found out he was from Ireland, and he became ashamed that he couldn’t speak it, apart from odd phrases. He became determind to master Irish, and wrote the book about his Irish learning adventures, and also about the history and current state of the language.

He discusses the challenges of learning a minority language, including finding people to talk to, and pursuading native speakers to speak Irish to you, even though it is often easier them to switch to English, unless you’re very fluent. He talks about the growth of Irish in Northern Ireland in both Catholic and Protestant communities, where there is a real hunger for the language. People there don’t let minor things like lack of funds or official permission stop them from setting up schools, radio stations and other things.

If you have any interest in the Irish language and/or Ireland, this book is worth reading.

A friend of mine has a similar story: she grew up in Wales but had no interest in learning Welsh at school. After learning school, she went travelling in Eastern Europe, and was often asked about Wales and the Welsh language when people found out where she was from. She became determined to learn Welsh, and in less then a year, during which time she studied Welsh everyday, and shared a flat with native Welsh speakers, she was more or less fluent. She won the Welsh Learner of the Year competition in 2008, and went on to do a degree in Celtic Studies at Aberystwyth University.

In order to appreciate your own language and culture, is it necessary to spend time in other countries?

Sealladh Mara (Seascape)

11 August 2017 By Simon

My song course has now finished, and I’ll be heading home tomorrow. I’ve learnt a lot of interesting and beautiful Gaelic songs this week, and had a great time. There were some excellent concerts in the evenings, and an end-of-course cèilidh last night, at which each class performed their party piece (a song or two), then there was music, dancing and more singing.

The theme of the course was songs related to the sea. This included songs about boats, sailors, smuggling, rowing, emigration, and other sea-related themes.

There are various expressions in Scottish Gaelic related to the sea:

– muir [murʲ] = the sea. From the Old Irish muir (sea), from the Proto-Celtic *mori (sea), from the Proto-Indo-European *móri (sea).

– cuan [kuən] = ocean; bay, inlet; haven. From the Old Irish cúan (bay, gulf, harbor), from Proto-Indo-European *kapno-, from *keh₂p- (to grasp).

– fairge [farʲagʲə] = sea, ocean; (sea) swell, turbulence of the ocean. From the Old Irish fairrge (sea, ocean).

– sàl [saːl̪ˠ] = the sea; salt water, seawater. From the Old Irish sál (brine, sea water).

– air sàl = at sea
– muireil = naval, maritime; like a sea
– loingeach [l̪ˠɔiŋʲgʲəx] = nautical

A model of a birlinn, a type of boat used on the west coast of Scotland from the middle ages

There are also quite a few words in Scottish Gaelic for boats:

– bàta [baːʰdə] = boat, craft. From the Old Irish bát, from Old English bāt (boat), from the Proto-Germanic *baitaz, *baitą (boat, small ship), from the Proto-Indo-European *bʰeyd- (to break, split).

– long [l̪ˠɔuŋg] = ship. From the Latin (navis) longa (long ship).

– sgoth [sgɔh] = boat, skiff, large winter fishing-boat, yacht

– curach [kurəx] = coracle, curragh. From the Middle Irish curach, from the Proto-Celtic *korukos (leather boat), probably from the Proto-Indo-European *(s)koro- (leather).

– coit [kɔhdʲ] = small fishing boat, canoe; cat (cargo boat)

– geòlag [gʲɔːl̪ˠag] = small boat or yawl

– bìrlinn [biːr̪l̪ʲɪn̪ʲ] = galley, rowing barge. From the Old Norse byrðingr (“ship of burden” = cargo ship, merchant vessel). (see photo above)

Sources: Am Faclair Beag, Wiktionary and MacBain’s Dictionary

Here are Joy Dunlop‘s conversation class singing a few Gaelic songs:

A bit of dancing:

A bit of piping:

More photos and videos from this trip, and previous trips to Sabhal Mòr Ostaig.

Sabhal Mòr Ostaig

7 August 2017 By Simon

I made it to Sabhal Mòr Ostaig last night. It started to rain very heavily as the ferry arrived in Armadale. Fortunately there was a bus to the college, but I got rather damp just walking from the ferry to the bus, and from the bus into the college.

So far on this journey I’ve heard quite a few different languages, including German, Lithuanian, Mandarin, French, Spanish and Dutch. I’ve had conversations in English, Scottish Gaelic and Irish, and spoken odd bits of Manx, Swedish, Russian and German.

My Scottish Gaelic is a bit rusty, but it’s coming back, and I fill in any gaps with Irish. On the way hear I listened to an audio book and some songs in Gaelic to tune my ears into the language.

How many roads?

31 July 2017 By Simon