Lake Monomonac Mystery

A visitor to Omniglot sent me these images asking about these mysterious symbols which appear on a map of Lake Monomonac which was found in the attic of a house near the lake. Can any of you recognise and/or decipher them?

Mystery symbols

Mystery symbols

Mystery symbols

They look like some form of shorthand to me – possibly Gregg – but I can’t make any sense of them.

Here’s a transcription of the shorthand, which seems to be the American Benn Pitman version from the mid 19th century:

(1) Surveyed by one of the members of the Monomonack sporting club. The bearings were taken with a pocket compass and // distances obtained by counting the steps
(2) as measured on the shore at high water mark
(3) including the islands

Provided by Beryl Pratt, author of www.long-live-pitmans-shorthand.org.uk

Word of the day – kai

kai /kai̭/ [Māori]

  1. (verb) to eat, consume, feed (oneself), partake, devour.
  2. (noun) food, meal.

Related expressions include:

  • kai moana = seafood, shellfish
  • wāhi kai = café, restaurant (wāhi = place)
  • hari kai = a song to entertain visitors as food is set out (hari = joy, happiness)

The Māori word kai is mentioned quite a lot in the book I’m reading at the moment, Come On Shore and We Will Kill and Eat You All by Christina Thompson: a memoir about the author’s life with her Māori husband which also discusses the history of the Māori, and contacts between them and other peoples.

Other Māori words and concepts are also discussed, include iwi, which means an extended kinship group, a tribe, a nation, a people, a nationality or a race, and often refers to a large group of people descended from a common ancestor, and utu, which means revenge, cost, price, wage, fee, payment, salary, reciprocity, and is an important concept in Māori culture.

Kai also means food in Tok Pisin, and kaikai means to eat. In Japanese kai (海 かい) means sea, among other things, though this reading of the kanji 海 is derived from Chinese (hai) – the native Japanese word for sea is うみ (umi).

In Hawai’ian, kai means sea, sea water, gravy, sauce or soup, while food is ʻai, or mea’ai.

South Stack / Ynys Lawd

Ynys Lawd / South Stack

Jelune hie mee dys South Stack (Ynys Lawd) faggys da Holyhead (Caergybi) rish caarjyn. Va laa breaw ayn as ta ny reayrtyn yindyssagh ayns shen. Erreish dooin shooyl as drappal mygeayrt y boayl, va barbecue ain.

De luan chuaigh mé go South Stack (Ynys Lawd) in aice le Holyhead (Caergybi) le chairde. Bhí lá breá ann agus tá na radhairc go hálainn ansin. I ndiaidh muid ag siúil agus ag dreapadh timpeall na háite, bhí beárbaiciú againn.

Ddydd Llun es i i Ynys Lawd ger Caergybi efo ffrindiau. Roedd y tywydd yn braf ac mae’r golygfeydd o fan ‘na yn ysblennydd. Ar ôl i ni cerdded a dringo o gwmpas y lle, mi wnaethon ni barbiciw.

Épouvantail

épouvantail (nf)

  1. objet, mannequin disposé dans les champs, dans les arbres, pour effrayer les oiseaux et les faire fuir (scarecrow)
  2. familièrement personne présentant un aspect extérieur repoussant (bogey, bugbear)
  3. quelqu’un ou quelque chose qui effraie sans raison (fright)
    [source]

For some reason we were talking about scarecrows or épouvantails at the French conversation group last night. It’s not a word that comes up in conversation very often, but I like the sound of it.

Related words include:

  • épouvantable = terrible, appalling, dreadful
  • épouvantablement = terribly, appallingly, dreadfully
  • épouvante = terror, fear
    – saisi d’épouvante = terror-stricken
    – roman/film d’épouvante = horror story/film

Words for scarecrow in other languages include:

  • Chinese – 稻草人 (dào​cǎo​rén​) = “straw man”
  • German – Vogelscheuche (bird shooer); Strohmann (straw man); Strohpuppe (straw doll/puppet)
  • Irish – babhdán – also means bogey man
  • Italian – spaventapasseri = “scare sparrows”
  • Japanese – かかし [鹿驚] (kakashi) = “deer surpriser”
  • Spanish – espantapájaros = “bird scarer”
  • Welsh – bwgan brain = “crows bogey/spook”

Geologically speaking

Today we have a guest post from Petrea Mitchell

I minored in geology – that is, it was my secondary area of concentration at college. Much of geology deals with things that were known and named well before they were codified as part of science, and it developed a habit for picking up local words rather than inventing its own for “new” phenomena. Thus, while you run into the usual load of classical-language derivatives when talking about things not visible at the surface of the earth, such as the strata (Latin, “layers”) recording various geological ages, or magma (Greek, “ointment”) waiting to erupt, you can also find words from all around the world.

For instance, when the early natural scientists wanted to study the effect of glaciers, they went tromping all over the Alps and picked up words like horn, which is from German, and used in geology to mean a peak shaped by glacial erosion. Glacier itself is French, as are arête (a sharp ridge resulting from erosion), cirque (a circular glacier), and moraine (a pile of debris formed along or at the end of a glacier).

Outcrops which are stuck under a glacier for a long time come out looking something like a shoehorn placed concave side up when the glacier retreats. One of these is a mouton roche (or so I was taught, though I’ve also seen it as roche moutoneé) or “rock sheep”.

But there is room for other areas to contribute to ice-related geology. Out in the tundra (originally a Russian word), repeated cycles of freezing and thawing can form hills with icy cores, called pingoes, from a Greenlandic word for “small hill”.

[Tundra was borrowed from Russian, but originally comes from the Kildin Sami word tū̄ndra, the genitive form of тӯндар (tūndar), ‘treeless plain’]

On a hotter topic, the familiar words lava, crater, and volcano all come from the neighborhood of Mt. Etna. Geyser is borrowed from Iceland, as is jökulhlaup, originally meaning an outburst of water caused by a volcano under a glacier, but used in geology for any sudden glacially-related flood.

Hawai`ian contributes words for two types of solidified lava: aa (ʻaʻā) for high-silica, viscous stuff that freezes into a rough, sharp texture, and pāhoehoe for low-silica lava which presents a relatively smooth surface after freezing. (A good mnemonic for remembering which is which is that aa is what you’re likely to wind up saying if you decide to go walking on that type.) Indonesian gives us lahar for a hot debris flow associated with a volcanic eruption.

On the other hand, another volcanic feature is called a maar, from a German dialect word for “sea”. Maars are formed when molten rock underground comes into contact with groundwater and causes a steam explosion. Since the bottom of the resulting crater then reaches groundwater level, the water seeps into the lower part of it to form a pond or lake. While there is no active volcanism in the area now, there are a bunch in the Eifel region of Germany, where the word comes from.

Japanese famously is the source for tsunami (津波), for which many English speakers have long used the term tidal wave (because it looks like a sudden high tide, rather than a normal ocean wave). Following the Boxing Day earthquake of 2004, tsunami seems to have finally shifted into common usage – but seeing as it means “harbor wave”, it’s hard to argue that everyone is really using a more correct word now, beyond the fact that it’s the official geological term.