Root bags

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

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?

When is the sky not the sky?

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

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.

Lost and confused?

A useful phrase that came up in my Swedish lessons on Memrise this week is Jag är lite förvirrad, which means “I’m a little confused”. This is quite a useful phase when you’re learning a new language, or trying to make sense of a new place, country or custom.

Another phrase that came up is Vi har gått vilse, which means “We’re lost” or literally “We have gone/walked astray”.


Förvirrad means confused, perplexed, addled, addlepated, bewildered, bumbling, chaotic, crazed, discombobulated, distracted, disturbed, dizzy, flighty, muddled, befuddled, diffuse, according to bab.la.

Here are a few examples of how it’s used:

  • Just nu ser han väldigt förvirrad ut
    Right now he’s got a real bewildered look on his face
  • Allt detta gör att man känner sig förvirrad
    All of this cannot fail to make one dizzy
  • Men i mitt förvirrade tillstånd, hamnade jag väldigt snabbt i självhjälpsavdelningen
    But given my befuddled state of mind, I ended up in the self-help section very quickly

Related words include:

  • förvirra = to confuse, confound, daze, bemuse, befuddle, bewilder, discombobulate, disorient, mix up, obscure
  • förvirrade = disconcerting
  • förvirrande = perplexity, confusing, bewildering, perplexing
  • förvirring = disorder, bafflement, bewilderment, confusion, daze, disorientation, distraction

förvirra comes from the Middle Low German vorwerren [source], which is also the root of verwirren (to confuse) in German and verwarren (to tangle, confuse, confound, befuddle) in Dutch.

The ver- and -en are affixes. The warr/wirr/werr part comes from Middle Dutch werre/warre (confusion, disarray, conflict), from Old Dutch *werra, from Proto-Germanic *werrō (confusion, disarray, conflict, strife), from the Proto-Indo-European *wers- (to grind, sand, sharpen, hone). The English war comes from the same root [source].


Vilse means lost, astray, wrong, according to bab.la.

Related words include:

  • vilsegången = lost
  • vilseföra = to confuse
  • vilsefört = blindsided
  • vilsekommen = lost, stray, wandering
  • vilseleda = to confuse, deceive, delude, misdirect, misguide, misinform, mislead
  • vilseledande = misleading, deceitful, deceptive, delusive, duplicitous, deceptively
  • vilseledat = misguided
  • vilseledd = to mislead

Vilse comes from vill (lost), from Old Norse villr (wild), from Proto-Germanic *wilþijaz (wild), from Proto-Indo-European *wel-/*welw- (hair, wool, grass, ear (of corn), forest), which is also the root of the English word wild [source].


Jaså!

Jaså!

An interesting Swedish word I learned recently is jaså [ˈjasɔ]. It is described by Wiktionary as an ‘expression of mild surprise’, and can be translated as ‘indeed, so, well then, oh, well, ah, huh’. So it’s quite a useful little word.

Here are some examples of how it’s used (from bab.la):

  • Jaså, så du vill gå i skolan här? = Oh, so you really want to go to school here?
  • Jaså, du vill prata om det? = Oh, you want to talk about that?
  • Jaså, vi skakade av oss dem? = Oh, we lost them, did we?
  • Jaså, du är här nu igen. = So you’re back again?
  • Jaså, någon annan. = Well, I’m someone else.
  • Jaså, du vill leka. = Oh, you wanna play?
  • Jaså, minsann?? = Oh, do you now?
  • Jaså, verkligen? = Oh really?

Equivalents in Danish appear to be åh, , nåh and tja.

What equivalent words are there in other languages?

Tykki Duw

Last week I learnt that a butterfly in Cornish is a tykki Duw [tɪkˑi’dyˑʊ / tɪkˑi’diˑʊ], or literally “God’s pretty thing”. A moth is a tykki Duw nos or “God’s pretty thing of the night”).

The word tykki comes from teg (pretty, attractive), and Duw comes from the Proto-Celtic *dēwos (god), from the Proto-Indo-European *deywós (god), from *dyew- (sky, heaven).

Butterfly

Names for butterflies are interesting in other languages as well:

  • Welsh: glöyn byw (glowing ember); iâr fach yr haf (little hen of the summer); pili-pala; plufyn bach yr haf (little feather of the summer), colomen fyw (lively pigeon); glöyn Duw (god’s ember/coal); eilir (spring).
  • Scottish Gaelic: féileagan; dealan-dé (god’s lightning); sglapaid; teine-dé (god’s fire); teillean-dé (god’s bee); tormachan-dé (god’s ptarmigan); dealman-dé; strainnsear (stranger); gogag
  • Manx: foillycan, follican
  • Irish: féileacán; guagóg; uallán
  • Breton: balafenn; barbellig; bobelan; aelig
  • Swedish: fjäril
  • Danish: sommerfugl (summer bird)
  • Spanish: mariposa
  • German: Schmetterling
  • French: papillon
  • Italian: farfalla
  • Russian: бабочка (babochka)

What about in other languages?

Sources: Gerlyver Kernewek, Wiktionary, Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru, Geiriadur yr Academi, Am Faclair Beag On-line Manx Dictionary, Dictionnaire Favereau, bab.la

Pronunciation is fun

The other day I realised that one reason I like languages is because I enjoy just saying foreign words and phrases, especially ones that contain sounds and combinations of sounds not used in English. I imitate native speakers as best I can – not just the sounds of the words, but the intonation, and even pitch of their voices as well.

At the moment I’m learning Swedish, Danish, Russian and Slovenian. I started learning Swedish out of interest in the language, and because I like the sound of it, and have fun pronouncing it. I started learning Danish and Slovenian in preparation for trips to Denmark and Slovenia, but also enjoy pronouncing them. I’ve been learning Russian on and off for years for various reasons, and enjoy pronouncing it.

Maybe I’ll learn some other languages just to have fun pronouncing them. Languages with clicks, like Zulu and Xhosa, or with ejectives, like Georgian. I already know some songs in these languages, so it would be quite useful to know a bit more about them. It would also be interesting to visit places where they’re spoken, and to use them, but that would not be a priority.

If I do this, I would search for the most interesting-sounding words and phrases, and also tongue twisters, rather than focusing on the most common words and grammatical patterns. I probably wouldn’t learn to speak and understand the languages, but would have fun anyway.

Here are some tongue twisters to play with:

And here’s a tongue twister in Xhosa:

Have you learnt, or are you learning, any languages because you like the sound of them and enjoy pronouncing them?

Speech recognition & pronunciation

Screen shot of Google Translate

Memrise language lessons sometimes test your pronunciation. You hear a phrase, then repeat it and record it. If your recording is close enough to the original, you move on to the next phrase. It’s actually a very useful exercise, and it’s interesting to compare you pronunication to that of native speakers.

It’s based on Google Translate’s voice function, and I thought I’d try that for other languages. Google Translate doesn’t record your voice, but you have to speak clearly for it to recognise the words. It doesn’t always recognise what I say to it in English, so getting it to recognise things I say in other languages is even more of a challenge.

I’ve tried it for all the languages I know that have the voice function. For most I can get it to recognise individual words and short phrases, though I find it easier for some languages than others. For French, Swedish, Russsian and German, for example, it’s usually fine. For Danish, however, it may recognise only a few words I say to it, even when I speak as clearly as I can. This suggests to me that my Danish pronunciation needs improving.

Have you used Google Translate or a simliar app in this way?

Did you find it useful?

Happy shining people

Smiley face

One of the Swedish lessons I did today was about words for emotions and related words. So I thought I’d find out more about some of them.

There are several words for happy in Swedish:

glad [ɡlɑːd] = delighted, glad, happy, pleased, jolly, lively, bright, bubbly, cheerful, elated, merry, pleasant, sprightly, vivid, gleeful, joyful, joyous, jubilant.

It comes from the Old Swedish glaþer (glad, cheerful), from Old Norse glaðr (glad), from Proto-Germanic *gladaz (shiny, gleaming, radiant, happy, glossy, smooth, flat), from Proto-Indo-European *gʰladʰ-, derivation of *gʰel- (to shine). The English word glad comes from the same root, though via Old English.

nöjd [nøjd] = content, happy, pleased, satisfied, contented, sated.

lycklig [lʏkːlɪɡ] = happy, fortunate, lucky, blessed, bright, upbeat, blissful.

This word comes from lycka (joy, happiness, luck, fortune, fate), which is related to the English word luck. These words are thought to come from the Middle High German lücke, gelücke, possibly from the Frankish *galukki [source].

belåten = content, contented, happy, satisfied

Some words for fun include:

kul [kʉːl] = fun, nice, enjoyable, amusing
roligt = fun
rolig = fun, amusing, diverting, droll, witty, hilarious

One ‘useful’ phrase that came up today was tjejer vill bara ha kul or girls just want to have fun.

In Norwegian rolig means calm, quiet, peaceful or leisurely, and in Danish it means calm or quiet [source]. It comes from the Old Swedish roliker (calm, quiet), from Old Norse róligr.

Other emotional words include:

le [leː] = to smile (related to the English word laugh)
småle = to smile
skratta = to laugh
entusiastisk = enthusiastic, cheerful
hoppingivande = hopeful
ledsen = sad
olycklig = unhappy
arg = angry
rädd = afraid
orolig = worried

Sources: bab.la, Wiktionary