| français | English | Cymraeg |
|---|---|---|
| la brise | breeze | awel |
| convenable; adéquat; apte | suitable | addas |
| la poterie | pottery | crochenyddiaeth; crochenwaith |
| sculpté; gravél ciselé | carved | cerfiedig; nadd |
| tailler; sculpter; grave; ciseler | to carve | cerfio; carfio; naddu |
| plongée | diving | plymio |
| luxuriant | lush | toreithiog; iraidd; ir |
| enflé; gonflé | swollen | wedi chwyddo |
| la cheville | ankle | ffêr; migwrn |
| le bord | edge | min; ymyl |
| le pare-choc | bumper (on car) | bymper; ffender |
| le course à travers champ | cross-country (race) | ras ar draws gwlad / traws gwlad |
| seul; solitaire | lonely | unig; digwmni |
Category: Welsh (Cymraeg)
Joskins, bumpkins and yokels
Last week a friend asked me about the origins of the word joskin [ˈdʒɒskɪn], which I hadn’t come across before. According to the Urban Dictionary it is defined as follows:
North-Walian term used in both English and Welsh to describe anyone from a rural or farming background. It is used both affectionately and in a derogatory way depending on the audience.
Example: He’s a right joskin – he’s got a tractor and everything.
According to the Collins English Dictionary joskin is a slang word meaning “a country bumpkin; hick”.
Wiktionary suggests that is comes from the dialect word joss (bump) and (bump)kin. Alternatively it comes from the name Joseph + (bump)kin [source].
Bumpkin, a clumsy, unsophisticated person or a yokel, apparently comes from the Dutch boomken (shrub, little tree) [source]. Or it might come from the Dutch bommekijn (small cask), from the Middle Dutch bomme (cask) [source], and was also used as a derogatory reference to short and dumpy Dutch people [source].
Yokel possibly comes from German dialect word Jokel, a diminutive of Jakob, or an English dialect word meaning woodpecker [source].
What other words are there for joskins?
Les mots de la semaine
| français | English | Cymraeg |
|---|---|---|
| l’attaque d’apoplexie (f); la congestion cérébral |
stroke | strôc; trawiad |
| avoir un accident vasculaire cérébral | to have a stroke | cael strôc / trawiad |
| caresser | to stroke | tynnu llaw; anwesu |
| le trait de génie | stroke of genius | fflach / strôc o athrylith |
| le coup de chance | stroke of good luck | tamaid / tipyn / strôc o lwc |
| aller se promener | to go for a stroll | mynd am dro |
| l’atrophie (f) | atrophy | gwywiad; edwiniad; crebachiad |
| la corbeille d’arrivée; la corbeille de courriers à traiter; le classeur pour le courrier entrant |
in tray | cawell derbyn; basged dderbyn |
| le courrier sortant | out tray | cawell allan |
| le plateau | tray | hambwrdd |
| le casier | pigeon-hole | twll colomen; cloer; colomendwll |
| cousin(e) au deuxième degré | first cousin once removed | plentyn eich cefnder/cyfnither |
| petit(e) cousin(e) | second cousin | cyfyrder (m); cyfyrderes (f) |
| enfant unique | only child | unig plentyn |
| le tonneau | barrel (beer; wine) | casgen; baril |
| la casque | barrel (fish) | casgen; baril |
| le baril | barrel (oil) | casgen; baril |
| l’animal empaillé; l’animal en peluche |
stuffed animal | anifail stwffiedig |
| le cogneur; le malabar | bruiser | colbiwr; paffiwr |
| diriger | to conduct (an orchestra) | arwain; tywys(u) |
| le chef d’orchestre | conductor | tywyswr; tywysydd; arweinydd |
| l’entrepôt | warehouse | warws; stordy; strorfa |
| la taille | size | maint |
| le pic | woodpecker | cnocell y coed |
| marcher sur la chaussée | to jaywalk | croesi diofal |
A few tips about tips
I heard some discussion on Radio Cymru this about the origin of the word tip(s). They said that in 18th century England there were boxes in pubs with the letters T.I.P.S. on them, which stood for “To Insure Prompt Service”. Gratuities were put into the boxes and became known as tips.
According the Snopes.com, a fact checking website, this is folk etymology, i.e. wrong. No such boxes existed, and the first appearance in writing of the word tip, meaning gratuity, dates back to the early 18th century, and the word tip, meaning to give a small sum of money intelligence on horse races or the latest silly joke dates back to 1610, and was used in thieves cant (slang).
The Online Etymology Dictionary suggests that the word tip, meaning to knock down or overturn, is of uncertain origin, and possibly comes from Scandinavian languages – in Swedish tippa means to tip or dump.
The word tip, as in the end or point of something, comes from Middle Low German or Middle Dutch tip (utmost point, extremity, tip).
The story about tip being an acronym for “To Insure Prompt Service”, “To Insure Promptitude” or “To Insure Promptness” comes from Inns, Ales and Drinking Customs of Old England by Frederick W. Hackwood, which was published in 1909.
There is more fact checking of popular sayings on Snopes.com.
Reasons to learn minority languages
I came across an interesting article today which discusses some of the benefits of learning a minority language like Manx. The writer, a fluent Manx speaker, is currently studying French and Linguistics at Oxford University, and has found that her knowledge of Manx has enabled her to make all sorts of connections, and has opened many doors. She was also in Gleann Cholm Cille studying Irish, though in July during the week I’m usually there, and I heard that Adrian Cain had been there teaching Manx that week – it’s a shame I missed it.
When you learn a language with a small number of speakers like Manx, it is possible to get to know quite a few of them and feel part of the community, and there is quite a lot of interest in such languages among linguists and language enthusiasts. I’ve certainly found this with all the Celtic languages, and whenever I meet someone who speaks one or more of them, I feel an instant connection. In Gleann Cholm Cille, for example, I met an English lad who is doing Celtic Studies in Aberystwyth University, and we found we have some mutual friends, and chatted away happily in Welsh, though I was in Irish mode that week, so sometimes mixed in a bit of Irish with my Welsh.
Does the same kind of thing happen for other minority and endangered languages?
One of my classmates in Gleann Cholm Cille, a gentleman from Oklahoma, mentioned that he had studied some Cherokee, but that the Cherokee people are suspicious of outsiders learning their language, so it can be hard to find material to learn the language and people to practice with.
Y Llyfyrgell
Last night I saw the film Y Llyfrgell / The Library Suicides, a Welsh-language thriller based on the book Y Llyfrgell (The Library) by Fflur Dafydd, who also wrote the script and produced the film.
This was the first film I’ve seen in Welsh, and I enjoyed it. It’s set in Aberystwyth, and most of the action takes place in the National Library of Wales / Llyfyrgell Genedlaethol Cymru. The main characters are identical twins who work in the library, and the film starts with the apparent suicide of their mother, a famous author. There are many other twists and turns, and stories within stories which make the film well worth a look.
The twins are played by one actor, Catrin Stewart, who in real life is a twin, though has a twin brother rather than a twin sister. It’s very cleverly done and you never realise that one person is playing both of them.
I didn’t understand all the dialogue at first as it’s in a dialect of Welsh I’m not used to hearing – I’ve got so used to hearing northern dialects of Welsh, other dialects sound a bit strange to me now, but I soon tuned into to it. There were subtitles in English as well, but I tried not to read them.
After the film there was a question and answer with Fflur Dafydd, which was entirely in Welsh, with simultaneous interpretation in English, for those who needed it. It was an interesting discussion and provided many insights into the film making process.
Les mots de la semaine
| français | English | Cymraeg |
|---|---|---|
| le jeu de rôle | role playing | chwarae rhan, chwarae rôl |
| accepter les invraisemblances | to suspend disbelief | |
| nom à rallonge | double-barrelled surname | enw dwbl (baril) |
| fusil à canon double | double-barrelled shotgun | gwn haels dau/dwy faril, dwbl baril |
| l’épaule | shoulder | ysgwydd |
| l’omoplate (f); la scapulaire | shoulder blade (human); scapular | palfais; asgwrn palfais; crafell ysgwydd |
| le paleron | shoulder blade (animal) | palfais; asgwrn palfais; crafell ysgwydd |
| railler; se moquer de qn/qch; se payer la tête de qn |
to make fun of sb/sth | gwneud hwyl/sbort am ben rhywun; chwerthin am ben rhywun |
| (liquide) trouble | cloudy (liquid) | cymylog |
| furtif | stealth | lladraddaidd |
| interdit | banned | gwarharddedig |
Les chuchoteuses
On Rue Staint-Paul in Vieux Montréal there’s a statue of three women having a gossip. It’s known as ‘Les chuchoteuses‘ or ‘The whisperers’. It’s also known as the “fat ladies talking statue”. It’s by Rose-Aimée Bélanger, a sculptor from Ontario, and was installed as part of a 2006 initiative to highlight some of Old Montreal’s forgotten spaces.
The word chuchoteuses [ʃyʃɔtø:z] comes from chuchoter [ʃy.ʃɔ.te] (to whisper; to rustle), which is of imitative origin. Related words include chuchoterie (whispering), chuchotis (faint whispering), chuchotement (a whisper / murmur, rustling).
I like the sound of this word, and of the words for whisper in other languages:
– Italian / Portuguese / Spanish: sussurro, from Latin susurrus (a humming, whispering)
– German: Flüstern
– Dutch: fluistering
– Welsh: sibrwd
What about in other languages?
The photo is one I took while exploring Montréal with Linsday Dow of Linsday Does Languages, who features in it.
Sources: Wiktionary and Reverso
Les mots de la semaine
| français | English | Cymraeg |
|---|---|---|
| la vapeur | steam | ager |
| la locomotive à vapeur | steam engine | peiriant ager, ager-beiriant |
| le presbytère | vicarage | ficerdy, persondy |
| le pasteur, le curé | vicar | ficer, ficar, person |
| moudre | to mill | malu |
| le jardin ouvrier | allotment | cyfran |
| animé | lively | bywiog |
| démolir | to demolish (building) | dinistrio; distrywio |
| interdire | to ban | gwahardd |
| lancer | to launch | lansio; gwthio |
| le taux de participation | turnout | cynulliad |
| le bureau de vote | polling station | gorsaf bleidleisio |
| la crue soudaine; la crue subite | flash flood | gorlifo yn sydyn; fflachlifo |
| la maison individuelle | detached house | tŷ ar wahân; tŷ sengl |
| la maison jumelée | semi-detached house | tŷ pâr |
| la maison en bande; la maison mitoyennef |
terraced house | tŷ teras; tŷ rhes |
| le financement | funding | nawdd; noddiant |
Multilingual Manchester
I had a multilingual day in Manchester today – I spent part of it listening to choirs and other groups performing as part of the Manchester Day celebrations. They sang in English, Irish, Scottish Gaelic, Maori, Hebrew and Yiddish, and I also watched the Manchester Day parade.
I also went to the Polyglot Pub, a meet-up arranged by Kerstin Cable of Fluent Language. The seven of us who turned up spoke in English, French, German, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Russian and Swedish, plus odd bits of Welsh, Irish, Scottish Gaelic, Japanese, Finnish and Estonian. This was the first Polyglot Pub in Manchester, and hopefully won’t be the last.
You can see more photos on Flickr
There will be a language quiz tomorrow, by the way.