Kissing and hissing
Other words describe the closely observed actions of animals, many of which we can instantly recognize:
mengais (Indonesian) to scratch on the ground with claws in search of food (generally used of a chicken)
apisik (Turkish) any animal holding its tail between its legs
maj u maj (Persian) kissing and licking (as a cat does to her kittens)
greann (Scottish Gaelic) the hair bristling as on an enraged dog
fahha (Arabic) the hissing of a snake
tau’ani (Cook Islands Maori) to squeal at one another while fighting (used of cats)
kikamu (Hawaiian) the gathering of fish about a hook that they hesitate to bite
alevandring (Danish) the migration of the eel
paarnguliaq (Inuit) a seal that has strayed and now can’t find its breathing hole
Two Persian tricks
Tuti’i pas ayina is a person sitting behind a mirror who teaches a parrot to talk by making it believe that it is its own likeness seen in the mirror which is pronouncing the words. While kalb is the practice of imitating barking to induce dogs to respond and thus show whether a particular dwelling is inhabited or not.
Animal magnetism
Some animal words attract other meanings as well. Hausa of Nigeria uses mesa to mean both python and water hose, and jak both don-key and wheelbarrow. Wukur in Arabic signifies a bird of prey’s nest
and an aircraft hangar and, intriguingly, zamma means both to put a bridle on a camel and to be supercilious. For the Wagiman of Australia wanganyjarri describes a green ants’ nest and an armpit, while for the French papillon is both a butterfly and a parking ticket.
The flying squad
In Hopi, an Amerindian language, masa’ytaka is used to denote insects, aeroplanes, pilots; in fact, everything that flies except birds.
Tamed
Humans have rarely been content to let animals run wild and free; using them in one way or another has defined the relationship between two and four legs:
ch’illpiy (Quechuan, Peru) to mark livestock by cutting their ears
bolas (Spanish) two or three heavy balls joined by a cord used to entangle the legs of animals
oorxax (Khakas, Siberia) a wooden ring in the nose of a calf (to prevent it from suckling from its mother)
hundeskole (Danish) a dog-training school
Animal sounds
In Albanian, Danish, English, Hebrew and Polish, to name just a few languages, bees make a buzzing sound, and cats miaow. However, no language but English seems to think that owls go ‘tu-whit, tu-woo’ or a cockerel goes ‘cock-a-doodle-doo’. And not everyone agrees about the birds and the bees either:
Birds
Arabic (Algeria): twit twit
Bengali: cooho’koohoo
Finnish: tsirp tsirp
Hungarian: csipcsirip
Korean: ji-ji-bae-bae
Norwegian: kvirrevitt or pip-pip
Bees
Afrikaans: zoem-zoem
Bengali: bhonbhon
Estonian: summ-summ
Japanese: bunbun
Korean: boong-boong or wing-wing
Cats
Indonesian: ngeong
Malay: ngiau
Nahuatl (Mexico): tlatzomia
Chicks
Albanian: ciu ciu
Greek: ko-ko-ko
Hungarian: csip-csip
Indonesian: cip cip
Quechuan (Peru): tojtoqeyay
Slovene: čiv-čiv
Thai: jiap jiap
Turkish: cik cik
Cockerels
Chinese: gou gou
French: cocorico
Italian: chicchirichí
Portuguese: cocorococo
Thai: ake-e-ake-ake
Cows
Bengali: hamba
Dutch: boeh
Hungarian: bú
Korean: um-muuuu
Nahuatl (Mexico): choka
Crows
French: croa-croa
Indonesian: gagak
Korean: kka-ak-kka-ak
Spanish: cruaaac, cruaaac
Swedish: krax
Thai: gaa gaa
Turkish: gaaak, gaak
Cuckoos
Japanese: kakkou kakkou
Korean: ppu-kkook-ppu-kkook
Turkish: guguk, guguk
Elephants
Finnish: trööt or prööt
Spanish (Chile): prraaahhh, prrraaaahhh
Thai: pran pran
Frogs
Afrikaans: kwaak-kwaak
Estonian: krooks-krooks
Munduruku (Brazil): korekorekore
Spanish (Argentina): berp
Goats
Nahuatl (Mexico): choka
Norwegian: mae
Quechuan (Peru): jap’apeyay
Russian: mee
Ukrainian: me-me
Hens
Turkish: gut-gut-gudak
Arabic (Algeria): cout cout cout
Rapa Nui (Easter Island): kókokóko
Korean: buung-buung
Norwegian: uhu
Russian: ukh
Swedish: hoho
Thai: hook hook
Pigs
Albanian: hunk hunk
Hungarian: röf-röf-röf
Japanese: buubuu, boo boo boo
Dutch: knor-knor
Sheep
Mandarin Chinese: mieh mieh
Portuguese: meee meee
Slovene: bee-bee
Vietnamese: be-hehehe
French: bêê (h)
On reflection
Spellcheck nightmare
If only Scrabble allowed foreign words how much greater our wordscores could be:
3 consecutive vowels: aaa (Hawaiian) a lava tube
4 consecutive vowels: jaaaarne (Estonian) the edge of the ice; kuuuurija (Estonian) a moon explorer
6 consecutive vowels: zaaiuien (Dutch) onions for seeding; ouaouaron (Quebecois French) a bullfrog
7 consecutive vowels: hääyöaie (Finnish) – counting ‘y’ as a vowel – a plan for the wedding night
8 consecutive vowels: hooiaioia (Hawaiian) certified; oueaiaaare (Estonian) the edge of a fence surrounding a yard
5 consecutive consonants (and no vowels): cmrlj (Slovenian) a bumblebee
7 consecutive consonants: razzvrkljati (Slovenian) preparing the egg for baking, or making omelettes; opskrbljivač(Croatian) a supplier; ctvrtkruh (Czech) a quadrant
8 consecutive consonants: angstschreeuw (Dutch) a cry of fear; varldsschlager (Swedish) a worldwide music hit; gvbrdgvnit (Georgian) you tear us into pieces
11 consecutive consonants: odctvrtvrstvit (Czech) to remove a quarter of a layer
Whatever the Weather
chuntian hai’er lian, yi tian
bian san bian (Chinese)
spring weather is like a child’s face, changing
three times a day
And the forecast is…
Despite our obsession with the weather, the English language doesn’t cover all the bases when it comes to precise observations of the natural world…
serein (French) fine rain falling from a cloudless sky
imbat (Turkish) a daytime summer sea breeze
’inapoiri (Cook Islands Maori) a moonless night
wamadat (Persian) the intense heat of a still, sultry night
gumusservi (Turkish) moonlight shining on water
tojji (Tulu, India) the scum of water collected into bubbles
efterarsfarver (Danish) autumn colours
… though, inevitably, there are some local phenomena that we have to struggle harder to imagine:
wilikoi (Hawaiian) substances that are gathered up in the centre of a whirlwind
isblink (Swedish) the luminous appearance of the horizon caused by reflection from ice
Meteorological metaphors
Our descriptions of the weather often use metaphors, such as raining cats and dogs, b
Schnee von gestern (German) yesterday’s snow (water under the bridge)
huutaa tuuleen (Finnish) to shout to the wind (to do something that has no use)
aven solen har fläckar (Swedish) even the sun has got spots (no one is perfect)
snést někomu modré z nebe (Czech) to bring the blue down from the sky for someone (do anything to please them)
chap phar kah chap jil pa chu kha ray (Dzongkha, Bhutan) the rain falls yonder, but the drops strike here (indirect remarks hit the target)
xihuitl barq (Arabic) lightning without a downpour (a disappointment, a disillusionment or an unkept promise)
Those words for snow
The number of different Inuit words for snow has been the subject of endless debate, few people taking into account the fact that the now-offensive group name ‘Eskimo’ (from the French Esquimaux, derived from North American Algonquian and literally meaning ‘eaters of raw flesh’) covers a number of different language areas: Inuit in Greenland and Canada, Yupik in Eastern Siberia and Aleut in Alaska. Here is a selection of words for snow from some Inuit languages:
snow, kaniktshaq; no snow, aputaitok; to snow, qanir, qanunge, qanugglir; snowy weather, nittaatsuq, qannirsuq; to get fine snow or rain particles, kanevcir; first falling, apingaut; light falling, qannialaag; wet and falling, natatgo naq; in the air, falling, qaniit; feathery clumps of falling snow, qanipalaat; air thick with snow, nittaalaq; rippled surface of snow, kaiyuglak; light, deep enough for walking, katik-sugnik; fresh without any ice, kanut; crusty, sillik; soft for travelling, mauyasiorpok; soft and deep where snowshoes are needed for travel, taiga; powder, nutagak; salty, pokaktok; wind-beaten, upsik; fresh, nutaryuk; packed, aniu; sharp, panar; crusty that breaks under foot, karakartanaq; rotten, slush on sea, qinuq; best for building an igloo, pukaangajuq; glazed in a thaw, kiksrukak; watery, mangokpok; firm (the easiest to cut, the warmest, the preferred), pukajaw; loose, newly fallen which cannot be used as it is, but can provide good building material when compacted, ariloqaq; for melting into water, aniuk; that a dog eats, aniusarpok; that can be broken through, mauya; floating on water, qanisqineq; for building, auverk; on clothes, ayak; beaten from clothes, tiluktorpok; much on clothes, aputainnarowok; crust, pukak; cornice, formation about to collapse, navcaq; on the boughs of trees, qali; blown indoors, sullarniq; snowdrift overhead and about to fall, mavsa; snowdrift that blocks something, kimaugruk; smoky drifting snow, siqoq; arrow-shaped snowdrift, kalutoganiq; newly drifting snow, akelrorak; space between drifts and obstruction, anamana, anymanya; snowstorm, pirsuq, pirsirsursuaq, qux; violent snowstorm, igadug; blizzard, pirta, pirtuk; avalanche, sisuuk, aput sisurtuq; to get caught in an avalanche, navcite.
There are also a large number of Inuit words for ice, covering everything from icicles through ‘solidly frozen slush’ to ‘open pack ice in seawater’.
False friends
air (Indonesian) water, liquid, juice
blubber (Dutch) mud
shit (Persian) dust
nap (Hungarian) sun
sky (Norwegian) cloud
pi (Korean) rain
Highland mist
Either there is more weather in the cold, wet places of the world or people have more time to think about and define it. The Scots may not have as many words for snow as the Inuits, but they have a rich vocabulary for their generally cool and damp climate.
Dreich is their highly evocative word for a miserably wet day. Gentle rain or smirr might be falling, either in a dribble (drizzle) or in a dreep (steady but light rainfall). Plowtery (showery) weather may shift to a gandiegow (squall), a pish-oot (complete downpour), or a thunder-plump (sudden rainstorm accompanied by thunder and lightning). Any of these is likely to make the average walker feel dowie (downhearted) as they push on through the slaister (liquid bog) and glaur (mire), even if they’re not yet drookit (soaked to the skin). The track in front of them will probably be covered with dubs (puddles), as the neighbouring burn (stream) grows into a fast-flowing linn (torrent).
The very next day the weather may be different again, and the walker beset by blenter (gusty wind). Or if it’s grulie (unsettled), there’s always the hope that it might turn out leesome (fair) with a lovely pirl (soft breeze). And then, after the next plype (sudden heavy shower), there may even be a watergow (faint rainbow). In deepest winter it will generally be snell (piercingly cold), and sometimes fair jeelit (icily so) among the wreaths (drifts) of snow.
For a precious few fair days in summer, there may even be a simmer cowt (heat haze), though the more austere will be relieved that the likelihood of discomfort remains high on account of the fierce-biting mudges (midges).
On reflection
My underground oven
Riddles are found the world over. Here are some intriguing ones from Hawaii:
1 ku’u punawai kau i ka lewa my spring of water high up in the clouds
2 ku’u wahi pu ko’ula i ka moana my bundle of red sugarcane in the ocean
3 ku’u wahi hale, ’ewalu o’a, ho’okahi pou my house with eight rafters and one post
4 ku’u imu kalua loa a lo’ik’i my long underground oven
Answers
1 niu a coconut
2 anuenue a rainbow
3 mamula an umbrella
4 he the grave
Hearing Things
quien quiere ruido, compre un
cochino (Spanish)
he that loves noise must buy a pig
Sound bites
The sounds of most of the words we use have little to do with their meanings. But there are exceptions in other languages, too. For best results try saying the words out loud:
ata-ata (Rapa Nui, Easter Island) to laugh
ba’a (Hausa, Nigeria) ridicule, mockery
baqbaq (Arabic) garrulous
bulubushile (Bemba, Congo and Zambia) a stammer or lisp
capcap (Maltese) to clap