Category: Language

Iron horses

By Simon

I came across the term gearrán iarainn the other day while looking for something else in my Irish dictionary. The literal meaning is ‘iron horse’ and the actual meaning is bicycle. It sounds similar to one of the early words for car – horseless carriage – and just appealed to me. I’m fairly sure it isn’t used very often though – the more common Irish word for bicycle is rothar, which comes from the root roth, wheel. A cyclist is rothaí, to cycle is rothaigh, and cycling is rothaíocht.

Do you know of any other languages which have a similarly interesting name for the bicycle?

Gleann Cholm Cille

By Simon

I arrived in Gleann Cholm Cille in Donegal yesterday evening after a long but trouble-free journey by train, ferry and bus. The Irish Sea was very calm and the crossing was so smooth that if I hadn’t been looking out of the window, I wouldn’t have know that I was on a boat. It was more like a floating shopping centre in fact with numerous shops, cafés, bars and a small amusement arcade.

After arriving in Dun Laoghaire, I took the train into central Dublin, had some lunch at the bus station, then got the bus to Gleann Cholm Cille. The bus routes have changed a bit since last year and now go via Dublin airport, which adds half an hour or so to the journey. I slept or dozed much of the time, except for the last part of the journey between Donegal Town and Gleann Cholm Cille, the part with the best scenery.

I’m staying in the B&B I stayed in the first time I came here four years ago and sharing a room with Murt from Dublin, a native Irish speaker who hasn’t spoken the language much for many years. There are a couple of other Irish people staying here, both of whom speak Irish well, though are somewhat out of practice, and a couple from Holland or one of the Scandinavian countries – I’m fairly sure their speaking a Germanic language, but haven’t worked out which one yet. My hosts here, Margaret, is an excellent cook and her husband, Martin, is a professional chef in a local hotel. When I turned on my laptop yesterday, I was pleasantly surprised to find that they have wifi here I can use.

Many of the people who were here for the summer school last year are here again this year, including the President of Ireland, so there are plenty of familiar faces. The programme is similar to last year as well. Last night we had the usual welcome talk from Liam, the director of Oideas Gael, and today we will be sorted into classes. There are eight levels of classes – last year I chose level 7, which was very interesting but more like a series of lectures than a typical language class, so this year I’m going to try level 6, which I hope will give me more chances to speak Irish.

Apart from a brief shower on the way here, the weather has been warm and sunny so far.

Long journey

By Simon

Tomorrow morning I’m off to Ireland for a week of Irish language and culture at Oideas Gael in Donegal. After this I’ll be going to Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, the Gaelic college on the Isle of Skye, for a week of Gaelic song, and should have plenty of opportunities to speak Scottish Gaelic there as well.

Even though the journey will be long and complex involving trains, ferries, buses and planes, plus an overnight stay in Glasgow as it’s not possible to get from Donegal to Skye in one day, I’m really looking forward to it as it will take me through some beautiful scenery.

I probably won’t have internet access during the first week, but might during the second, so it could take a while for me to reply to your emails.

Taith hir

By Simon

A i i Iwerddon yfory i ddysgu mwy o Wyddeleg yn Oideas Gael, Sefydliad Diwylliant Wlster yn Donegal. Bydda i’n cymryd mewn yr ysgol haf mewn iaith a diwylliant am wythnos, fel mi wnes i y llynedd. Yna a i i Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, coleg Gaeleg ar Ynys Skye i wneud cwrs mewn caneuon Gaeleg. Ar y ffordd yn ôl i Fangor, treuliais i dau ddydd efo fy rhieni yn Sir Gaerhirfryn.

Bydd y daith yn un hir a chymhleth – a i a’r trên i Gaergybi yn cyntaf, ac yna i Glencolmbcille yn Donegal ar fferi, trên a bysiau trwy Dulyn a Thref Donegal. O Donegal i Skye a i ar bysiau, awyren, trên a fferi trwy Belfast, Glasgow, Mallaig ac Armadale, ac bydda rhaid i mi aros yn Glasgow un noson.

Dw i’n edrych ymlaen yn fawr at y daith ac at y cyrisau.

Turas fada

Rachaidh mé go hÉirinn amárach níos mó Gaeilge a fhoghlaim in Oideas Gael. Beidh mé ag glachadh páirt sa Scoil Shamhraidh i dTeanga agus Cultúr mar a rinne mé anuraidh. I ndiaidh sin, rachaidh mé go Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, coláiste Gàidhlig san Oileán Sciathanach cúrsa amhráin Gàidhlig a dhéanamh. Ar an mbealach ar ais go Bangor, caithfidh mé cúpla lá le mo thuismitheoirí i Lancashire.

Beidh sé turas fada agus casta sa traein go Holyhead ar dtús, agus ansin i mbád go Dún Laoghaire, sa traein go Baile Átha Cliatha agus ar an mbus go Gleann Cholm Cille trí Baile Dún na nGall. Ó nDún na nGall go dtí an Oileán Sciathanach, rachaidh mé ar an mbus, san eitleán, sa traein agus i mbád trí Béal Feirste, Glaschú, Mallaig agus Armadale, agus beidh orm oíche a chaitheamh i nGlaschú.

Tá mé ag súil go mór leis an turas agus na cúrsaí.

Television and stinky badgers

By Simon

What does television and stinky badgers have in common?

Well, there’s a kind of stink badger (Mydaus javanensis) that lives in Java, Sumatra, Borneo and the North Natuna Islands of Indonesia and which called teledu /teledu/ in Malay; sigung in Indonesian. The word teledu /tɛ’lɛdɨ/ just happens to be the Welsh word for television.

This is the stink badger:

Teledu - the Javanese Stink Badger

Found via this blog.

The word television of course comes from the Greek word τῆλε (tele), ‘far off / at a distance’, and the Latin visionem, ‘act of seeing, sight, thing seen’. Most languages call the television something similar. There a few exceptions though, including the German Fernsehen, ‘Far-see’, the Norwegian Fjernsyn, which means the same as the German; the Icelandic Sjónvarp, ‘vision’ + ‘throw’; and the Chinese 電視 [电视] (di

Literary translation

By Simon

Have you ever wondered what kind of challenges you might encounter when translating Asterix? It’s not just about translating the dialogues – there are also numerous names, verbal and visual puns, songs and accents to deal with, and you have to fit the translated text into the speech bubbles. An interesting site – Literary Translation – goes into more detail of some of the difficulties of translating various literary works, including Asterix.

I’ve only read Asterix in English, plus a few of the books in German, so am not familiar with the original French text. Most of the names of the characters in French are different to the ones I’m used to in English. For example, the Gaulish bard, who is Cacofonix in English, is known as Assurancetourix = assurance tous risques, ‘comprehensive insurance’ in French. Many of the other names are made up of French words like this, and don’t sound like names if translated literally. Another example is the Gaulish chieftain, Abraracourcix, whose name comes from the phrase

Mystery songs

By Simon

Today we have two questions from visitors to Omniglot.

The first question comes from someone who cares for a women in the end stages of Alzheimer’s disease. She doesn’t communicate much, but when she does she usually sings a song that seems to be in Ukrainian or possibly Slovak (she is an American woman who speaks English). Below is a phonetic rendering of what she sings:

Hietsa kietsa kulo pietsa
Talo mene pabolo
Mama mene swala wala
Him no mene pabolo

Do any of you recognise this song or the language?

The second question comes from someone in Canada who remembers her Scottish grandparents singing a goodbye song. Below is her phonetic rendering of the first line of the song, which is all she remembers, is “A daw a wha-a-tay bide ee wha-a-a”. Is this familiar to anyone?

Language teaching in primary schools

By Simon

Over the past six years the number of children in primary schools learning foreign languages has doubled, according to a report in The Times. So it appears that the UK government might just achieve its aim that all primary school pupils are learning a language by 2010.

The most popular language by far is French, which is taught by 89% of primary schools. German is taught by just 9% of schools, and Italian, Chinese, Japanese or Urdu are by fewer than 3%. Over 4,000 primary school teachers with a language specialism have been trained, and thousands more will be trained by 2010, at least that’s what the government hopes.

A review of languages in schools carried out last year by Lord Dearing recommended that languages be made compulsory at primary level. This hasn’t been implemented yet.

Do you think the study of foreign languages should be compulsory in schools? Is it compulsory in your country? If not, do plenty of people study languages anyway?

Word of the day – Crychydd

By Simon

Picture of a grey heron / Llun crychydd glas

Today’s word, crychydd (‘krəx.ɨð) is one of the Welsh words for heron. Other words for heron include crëyr, crehyr and crŷr, which appear to be immitations of the sounds herons make. The Irish word for heron is similar – corr.

Whenever I go for a walk by the sea here in Bangor, I often see a heron or two, as well as various other kinds of birds. They are usually grey herons (crëyr glas), but I did see a white one the other day, or it might have been a white egret. I’d like to learn a bit about these birds and their names in Welsh (and English, if I don’t already know them). I’ll see if the Welsh language bookshop in town has a book on local birds the next time I’m there.

One of my Welsh dictionaries, Y Geiriadur Mawr, has a section on birds with their names in Welsh and English. Many of the names are translations of their English equivalents, e.g. aderyn du – blackbird, asgell goch – redwing, and gwylan benddu – black-headed gull. Other names are based on the sounds the birds make, their appearance, or their habits or habitats, e.g. wid-wid – rock pipit, gwidihŵ – owl, bronfraith (speckled breast) – song thrush, Harri-gwylch-dy-big (Harry wash your beak) – little grebe, aderyn yr eira (snow bird) – starling.