mas limpio que sobaco de rana (Venezuelan Spanish) broke (literally, cleaner than a frog’s armpit)
auf den Hund kommen (German) to be broke (literally, to get to the dog; in medieval times, a dog was painted on the bottom of money chests – if you could see the dog, you had run out of money)
n’avoir plus un radis (French) to be stone broke (literally, to be without a single radish)
kukla (Russian) a roll of bills in which the inner bills have been replaced by worthless paper (literally, a doll)
Cutting gold
Most of us would be more than happy with an easy escape from such an unfortunate predicament:
gaji buta (Malay) getting paid without having to work
att skära guld med täljkniv (Swedish) to make money with very little effort (literally, to cut gold with a pocket knife)
dawo (Yoruba, Nigeria, Benin and Togo) to produce money by imagic
Gifted
While others find different ways to stay afloat:
pakimkím (Tagalog, Philippines) money given by a godparent
hustrulon (Swedish) a wife’s salary
namidakin (Japanese) a small amount of consolation money (literally, tear money)
pujo (Korean) a congratulatory gift or condolence money
Up against it
It’s certainly true that the folding stuff can be elusive; and the occasion when you really need it may be the one time you are unable to find it:
ipatapata (Lozi, Niger-Congo) to try hard to find money with which to make an urgent purchase
lukupu (Mambwe, Zambia) to miss gaining riches by a narrow margin
On the floor
When you do finally get some, for heaven’s sake be careful with it:
pagar el piso (Chilean Spanish) to take out all your friends and pay with the first pay packet from your new job (literally, to pay for the floor)
madyelakhwirhini (Tsonga, South Africa) a man who im-mediately spends all he earns and sends nothing home; a spendthrift
peaglatata (Dakota, USA) to exhaust one’s own supply by giving to others
It’s the thought that counts
To demonstrate their wealth, the Kwakiutl Indians of Vancouver Island destroyed it. Their chiefs publicly burned food, blankets, canoes and ornaments in the ceremony of potlatch, a word that means ‘giving’. A potlatch might be held for a variety of reasons, which varied from group to group, but included puberty rites and death commemorations. It involved a great feast at which the host lavishly distributed valuable property to all the assembled guests. The hitch was that the guests had to reciprocate at some future date – with interest of up to 100 per cent.
An umbrella at midnight
Two proverbs from the Kannada language of Southern India speak eloquently of the paradoxes of getting rich. HalliddAga kaDle illa; kaDle iddAga hallilla – there are no nuts when one has teeth and there are no teeth when there are nuts; in other words, when you are young you have no money, and when you have money the chance of enjoying it is often gone. But perhaps this is all as it should be. For the second proverb points up the absurdity of some people’s behaviour when they are in a fit state to enjoy their money: Aishwarya bandre ardha rAthrili koDe hiDkonDa – when a poor fellow gets rich, he has an umbrella over his head at midnight; which is to say that a newly wealthy man will flaunt the symbol of the well-off, a parasol to shield him from the sun, even in the dark.
False friends
Reformhaus (German) health food store
top (Dutch) done! agreed! it’s a bargain!
stershit (Albanian) to sell everything that one has
Detail (German) retail
hamstring (Swedish) hoarding (derives from hamster)
male (Italian) bad, wicked
Cowherd’s cake
Sometimes the destitute may just have to make do with a payment in kind:
legopelo (Setswana, Botswana) a piece of meat that is given to someone who has helped skin a cow
angauriyā (Hindi) a ploughman making use of a farmer’s plough instead of receiving wages in money or kind
bonnach-iomanach (Gaelic) a cowherd’s cake (a special reward for good herding at calving time)
matao ni bwe (Gilbertese, Oceania) the price paid in fish for the loan of a canoe or fishing net
To see thirty-six candles
The French refer to many things in terms of the number thirty-six:
j’ai trente-six choses à faire I have many things to do
tous les trente-six du mois once in a blue moon (literally, each thirty-sixth of the month)
faire les trente-six volontés de quelqu’un to be at some-one’s beck and call (literally, to do the thirty-six wills of someone)
voir trente-six chandelles to see stars after getting hit on the head (literally, to see thirty-six candles)
Stall
‘Gol’ na vydumku khitra,’ say the Russians – poverty is crafty; and it’s surely true that having no money can become the spur for entrepreneurial activity, even of the most basic kind:
bahu (Bugotu, Solomon Islands) to barter food for money
ditan (Chinese) a street vendor’s stand (with the goods spread out on the ground)
higgler (Jamaican Creole) a person selling fruit and vegetables by the roadside
gujrī (Hindi) a roadside market set up in the late afternoons
sitoa (Gilbertese, Oceania) a small trading ship whose decks are set up as stores
chelnoki (Russian) shuttle traders (who buy goods from the back of lorries)
limpiaparabrisas (Mexican Spanish) street kids who gather at intersections with traffic lights and rush to wash the windscreen of cars waiting for the lights to change and then demand to be paid
Red shells out, white shells back
The Kiriwina of the Trobriand Islands in the Pacific have an elaborate gift exchange system called the kula. The islanders set off round the islands in large, ocean-going canoes and trade red shell necklaces (veigun) in a clockwise direction, and white shell bracelets (mwali) in an anti-clockwise direction. The round trip is several hundred miles.
The art of selling
There’s a lot of skill (even magic) in encouraging people to part with their hard-earned dosh:
spruik (Australian slang) to talk to attract customers; to hold forth like a showman
verlierlen (Yiddish) to lose a customer to a fellow salesman
vparivat’ (Russian) to palm off defective goods
fare orecchie da mercante (Italian) pretending not to understand (literally, to have a merchant’s ears)
palulud (Maguindanaon, Philippines) a charm that is supposed to have the power to attract customers
Smoke and mirrors
Although the further up the scale you go, the less need you have for actual goods:
muhaqala (Arabic) the sale of grain while still in growth, dealing in grain futures
dymoprodukt (Russian) an advertised product that is not yet being produced (literally, smoke product)
wheeler (Scots) one who bids at an auction simply to raise the price
One-armed bandit
There are, of course, other ways of making money, if you’re prepared to take a chance:
agi (Maranao, Philippines) to win continually in gambling
airi (Maranao, Philippines) to bet again on a card which has just won
an non (Vietnamese) to quit gambling as soon as one has won
balato (Tagalog, Philippines) money given away by a winning gambler as a sign of goodwill
Losers
However, even the most hardened practitioners know that in the long run the betting tables don’t pay. As the Germans say, ‘Young gamblers, old beggars’:
borona (Malagasy, Madagascar) having nothing with which to pay money lost in betting
biho (Maranao, Philippines) a bet, money asked for from winners by losers
pelasada (Maranao, Philippines) the percentage taken from bets by the owner of a gambling place
Tokyo
tricks
The Japanese have two words to describe what happens as the temptation to cheat gets stronger:
dakko the flicking movement of the palm that will send goods up into the sleeve
dosa a player with an exceptionally bad hand who will flick a compromising card up his sleeve and quickly substitute a more favourable one
Retail therapy
So what to do with it when you finally have it? Why, hit the streets, of course; and this is an occupation, if not an art, in itself:
faire du lèche-vitrines (French) to go window-shopping (literally, to lick windows)
chokuegambo (Japanese) the wish that there were more designer-brand shops on a given street; the desire to buy things at luxury brand shops
arimuhunán (Tagalog, Philippines) something worth taking although not needed
emax (Latin) fond of buying
You’re safer with prison
What a fine array of products the world has in its shop window:
Atum Bom Portuguese tinned tuna
Bimbo Mexican biscuits
Kevin French aftershave
Polio Czech detergent
Vaccine Dutch aftershave
Flirt Austrian cigarettes
Meltykiss Japanese chocolate
Climax Kenyan disinfectant
Hot Piss Japanese antifreeze spray
Naked New Zealand fruit and nut bar
Noisy French butter
Last Climax Japanese tissues
Happy Swedish chocolate
Prison Ugandan body spray
IDIOMS OF THE WORLD
As easy as falling off a log
så let som at klo sig i nakken (Danish) as easy as scratching the back of your neck
semudah membalikkan telapak tangan (Indonesian) as easy as turning your palm around
facile come bere un bicchier d’acqua (Italian) as easy as drinking a glass of water
asameshi mae (Japanese) before breakfast (something that’s so easy, you could finish it before breakfast)
nuwoseo tdeokmeokki (Korean) lying on one’s back and eating rice cakes
tereyağýndan kýl çeker gibi (Turkish) as if pulling a strand of hair from butter
ežiku ponjatno (Russian) understandable to a hedgehog
21.
The Criminal Life
le diable chie toujours au mêmeendroit (French)
the devil always shits in the same place
Tea leaf
Why work, or even gamble for that matter, when there are fareasier ways of enriching yourself?
lipoushka (Russian) a stick with a gluey end for stealing money from a counter (literally, flypaper)
butron (Spanish) a type of jacket with inner pockets worn by shoplifters
levare le scarpe (Italian) to steal the tyres from a car (literally, to take someone else’s shoes off)
rounstow (Scots) to cut off the ears of a sheep, and soobliterate its distinctive marks of ownership
False friends
egg (Norwegian, Swedish) knife edge
gulp (Afrikaans) to slit, gush, spout
guru (Japanese) a partner in crime
plaster (Hebrew) deceitful or fraudulent
roof (Dutch) robbery
Gangland
Although once you step over that line, who knows what company you may be forced to keep:
ladenlichter (Dutch) a till-robber
pisau cukur (Malay) a female hustler who cons men into giving her money
harza-duzd (Persian) someone who steals something of no use to him or anyone else
adukalipewo (Mandinka, West Africa) a highway robber (literally, give me the purse)
belochnik (Russian) a thief specializing in stealing linen off clothes lines (this was very lucrative in the early 1980s)
Scissorhand
Considerable skill, experience and bravado may be required for success:
forbice (Italian) pickpocketing by putting the index and middle fingers into the victim’s pocket (literally, scissors)
cepat tangan (Malay) quick with the hands (in pickpocketing or shoplifting or hitting someone)
poniwata (Korean) a victim who at first glance looks provincial and not worth robbing, but on closer scrutiny shows definite signs of hidden wealth
komissar (Russian) a robber who impersonates a police officer
And sometimes even magic:
walala (Luvale, Zambia) a thieves’ fetish which is supposed to keep people asleep while the thief steals
za-koosirik (Buli, Ghana) a person who transfers the plants of a neighbour’s field to his own by magic
Lost in translation
In their eagerness to move into and conquer new markets, many huge Western companies forgot to do their homework. When the name Microsoft was first translated into Chinese, they went for a literal translation of the two parts of the name which, unfortunately, meant ‘small and flaccid’.
Pepsi’s famous slogan ‘Come Alive with Pepsi’ was dropped in China after it was translated as ‘Pepsi brings your ancestors back from the grave’.
When American Airlines wanted to advertise its new leather first-class seats in the Mexican market, it translated its ‘Fly in Leather’ campaign literally, but vuela en cuero meant ‘Fly Naked’ in Spanish.
Colgate introduced in France a toothpaste called Cue, the name of a notorious pornographic magazine.
Coca-Cola was horrified to discover that its name was first read by the Chinese as kekoukela, meaning either ‘bite the wax tadpole’ or ‘female horse stuffed with wax’, depending on the dialect. Coke then researched 40,000 characters to find a phonetic equivalent – kokou kole – which translates as ‘happiness in the mouth’
Kindling
Their trains and tubes are punctual to the nearest second; equal efficiency seems to characterize those Japanese who take criminal advantage of such crowded environments:
nakanuku, inside pull-out: to carefully slip one’s hand into a victim’s trouser pocket, draw out the wallet, flick it open, whip out cash and credit cards, close it and slip it back into the victim’s trouser pocket
oitore, walking next to a well-dressed victim, plunging a razor-sharp instrument into his attachÉ case and cutting the side open
okinagashi, put and flow: those who climb on a local train at one station, grab bags and coats, cameras and camcorders, and then jump off at the following station
takudasu, kindle and pull out: to drop, as if by mistake, a lit cigarette into a victim’s jacket or open shirt, and then, while the victim is frantically trying to locate the burning butt, come to his aid, helping him unbutton and frisk through jacket, shirt and undershirt, taking the opportunity to lift wallets and other valuables out of pockets and bags
Descending spiders
Nor does this fine vocabulary dry up when describing the activity of Japanese burglars: maemakuri, lifting the skirt from the front, means they enter through the front gates; while shirimakuri, lifting the skirt from behind, describes entry through a gate or fence at the rear of the house. One obvious hazard is the gabinta, the dog, that starts barking or snarling at the intruders (the word literally means ‘this animal has no respect for its superiors’). There is only one way to deal with such an obstacle: inukoro o abuseru, the deadly pork chop, otherwise known as shūtome o kudoku, silencing one’s mother-in-law. Once at the door you confront the mimochi musume, the lock (literally, the pregnant daughter), who must be handled with the softest of touches, unless of course you are in possession of the nezumi, the mice (or master keys).
As for the crooks themselves, they come in all varieties. There is the sagarigumo, or descending spider, the man or woman who braves the slippery tiles of the roof to reach their target; the denshinkasegi, the telegram breadwinners, who get there by shinning up telephone poles; the shinobikomi, thieves who enter crawling; the odorikomi, who enter ‘dancing’, i.e. brash criminals with guns; the mae, or fronts, debonair thieves who simply wal
k up to the main door; or the super-sly ninkātā, who leaves no trace: the master thief.
There is the ichimaimono, the thief who works alone; and the hikiai, those who pull together, i.e. partners in crime. There are nitchūshi, broad-daylight specialists, and yonashi, night specialists; even miyashi, shrine specialists. There are akisunerai, empty-nest targeters, those who specialize in targeting unattended houses; neshi, sleep specialists, the men who target bedrooms after the loot has been assembled and packed; and even evil tsukeme, literally, touching eyes: thieves who barge into bedrooms to rape sleeping victims.
Radish with glasses
Not content with colourful descriptions of robbers, the Japanese have an extensive vocabulary for cops too: there are the gokiburi, the cockroaches, policemen on motorcycles, who can follow burglars over pavements and through parks; the kazaguruma, the windmill, an officer who circles the streets and alleys, getting closer and closer to the area where the criminals are working; the daikon megane, the radish with glasses, the naive young officer who’s not going to be a problem for the experienced crook; or the more prob-lematic oji, the uncle, the dangerous middle-aged patrolman who knows all the members of the gang by name and is liable to blow the whistle first and ask questions later.