Heim aftur / Home again

The Polyglot Conference is over now for another year, and I arrived back to Bangor yesterday. Although the conference only lasted two days, a lot was packed into that time.

On the Friday I went on a Golden Circle tour with two coach loads of other polyglots. Unfortunately it was a wet, cloudy and cold day, so the views were not great, but the landscape we could see was rather fine.

The first stop was Þingvellir (Thingvellir), a World Heritage Site where the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates meet. It is also where the Iceland parliament (Alþingi) met from AD 930 until 1798.

Þingvellir / Thingvellir

Next we went to Geysir, and area of volcanic activity with a number of sprouting hot springs, including the famous Great Geysir, which is currently inactive, and Stokkur, which erupts every few minutes (see photo below). We also had lunch here – there are a number of eating places and souvenir shops in the complex near the hot springs. I was expecting the whole place to stink of sulphur, but it didn’t really.

Þingvellir / Thingvellir

Our final stop was Gullfoss (“Golden Falls”), waterfalls in the canyon of Ölfusá river. They were spectacular, and well worth seeing.

Gullfoss

In the evening, after we arrived back in Reykajvik, I went for dinner at an Indian restaurant with a few other polyglots.

The conference started on Saturday morning with interesting speeches by Dr Sebastian Drude, the director of the Vigdís International Centre for Multilingualism and Intercultural Understanding, and Vigdís Finnbogadóttir, the former President of Iceland and UNESCO Goodwill Ambassador for languages.

Vigdís Finnbogadóttir opening the 2017 Polyglot Conference in Reykjavik

Then there were talks on a variety of topics, with themes including Icelandic language and culture, bilingualism and autism, and maintaining ‘small’ languages. Some of the speakers were lecturers or researchers in universities, others were language enthusiasts. The talks I found most interesting were the one by Daniel Tammet and Sigriður Kristinsdóttir about how he learnt Icelandic in a week with her help; one about bilingualism and autism, one about the cognitive effects of language learning, and one about Mongolian.

The 2017 Polyglot Conference in Reykjavik

There was plenty of time between the talks and at lunch to catch up with old friends, meet new ones and practise languages. During my time in Iceland, I had conversations in English, Welsh, French, German, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Mandarin, Japanese and Irish, and spoke bits of Czech, Scottish Gaelic, Breton, Manx, Swedish and Icelandic.

Lunch was provided – small sandwiches and wraps, though didn’t appeal to me, so I bought something else in a supermarket.

A panel discussuion at the 2017 Polyglot Conference in Reykjavik

There weren’t any organised activities in the evenings, as there are at the Polyglot Gatherings. Instead babbles of polyglots went off to do their own thing. I went for dinner with some polyglot friends and had very interesting discussions about all sorts of things, not all of which were related to languages – we do have other interests.

The annoucement of where the Polyglot Conference will be in 2018

The next Polyglot Conference will be in Ljubljana in Slovenia from 5-7 October 2018 (as you might have guessed from this photo). So next year I will learn some Slovenian before the conference in Ljubljana, and some Slovak before the Polyglot Gathering in Bratislava in Slovakia.

On Monday I did some work on Omniglot in the morning, explored Reykjavik a bit, had lunch in a restaurant in the old harbour area of Reykjavik, did some more work, then explored a bit more with the two Russian teachers who were staying in the same place as me.

Iceland is a very expensive place, which I expected. Meals in restaurants cost at least twice as much as in the UK, as do most other things. It wasn’t as cold as I expected – about 7-10°C during the day and 2-5°C at night. All the locals I met speak very good English, but if you speak Icelandic, they’re happy to speak it with you. There are apparently quite a few people who have moved to Iceland recently for work, most don’t speak Icelandic. On a clear, dry day, the scenery is spectacular. Even on grey, wet days, it’s still impressive and dramatic.

There are some more photos on Flickr:

Iceland / Ísland

Café Lingua – lifandi tungumál

Yesterday evening I went to Café Lingua – lifandi tungumál at the University of Iceland / Háskóli Íslands. It’s a regular meet-up for language enthusiasts, and last night there were a lot of extra people there who are in Reykjavik for the Polyglot Conference. It was great to see lots of familiar faces, and to meet new people.

I had conversations in English, Welsh, Irish and Mandarin, and spoke odd bits of Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Cantonese, Swedish, Icelandic, Czech, Russian, Finnish and French. Other languages were available.

Today I’m going on a Golden Circle tour with other Polyglot Conference participants.

Star sailors and children of the sky

A sailing ship in space

Did you know that the word astronaut means “star sailor”?

This is something I learnt from an interesting Allusionist podcast on Technobabble.

Astronaut comes from the Ancient Greek ἄστρον (ástron – star) and ναύτης (naútēs – sailor). It first appeared as the name of a space craft in Across the Zodiac, a story written by Percy Greg in the 1880. It was used in the 1920s in writing about the possiblity of space travel, and in the U.S. space program from the 1960s [source].

Some other space-related words have a nautical roots as well, including (space)ship, mast, batton and sail.

Other words for star sailors include:

cosmonaut, from the Russian космона́вт (kosmonávt), from the Ancient Greek κόσμος (kósmos – universe) &+ -naut [source]
taikonaut, from the Chinese 太空 (tàikōng – space) +‎ -naut [source]
spationaut, from spatio (space) + -naut [source]

Many other languages use one or other of these words. Here are some exceptions:

– In Chinese an astronaut is either 太空人 (tài​kōng​rén – “space person”), 航天員 (háng​tiān​yuán – “boat sky personnel”), or 宇航员 [宇航員] (yǔhángyuán – “universe boat personnel”) [source].

– In Icelandic an astronaut is a geimfari, from geimur (space) + -fari (traveler) [source].

– In Welsh an astronaut is a gofodwr, from gofod (space) + gŵr (man).

– In Swahili an astronaut is a mwanaanga, from mwana (child) +‎ anga (sky) [source]

Are there interesting words for astronauts in other languages?

Les mots de le semaine

français English Cymraeg
Les couennes de porc frite pork scratchings
la couenne rind crofen; crawen; crafen
la peau hide (skin) croen
le cuir hide (leather) lledr; croen
seul à seul; face à face one-to-one un i un
gazouiller; grisoller; roucouler to warble telori; trydar
fauvette warbler telor
pour l’amour de Dieu for heaven’s sake neno’r nefoedd; er mwyn y nefoedd
l’inhalateur (m) inhaler ymanadlwr; pwmp
inouï unprecedented; incredible; tremendous diesiampl; digyffelyb; anhygoel; anghredadwy
c’est inouï that’s unheard of mae hynny’n anhygoel

How many roads?

How many roads?

Last week I learned that there are quite a few words for roads in Irish. These include:

bóthar [ˈbˠoːhəɾˠ] = road; way, manner. From the Proto-Celtic *bow-itros (cow path).

Related words in other Celtic languages:

– bóthar [boː.ər] = alley, lane (Scottish Gaelic)
– bayr [bajr] = avenue, drive, lane, pad, roadway (Manx)
– beidr [beidɪr] = lane, track (Welsh)
– bownder [‘bɔʊndɛr] = lane (Cornish)

bóithrín = country lane, boreen (diminutive of bóthar)

bealach [ˈbʲalˠəx] = way, road track; pass. From the Old Irish belach (gap, pass, road, path).

Related words in other Celtic languages:

– bealach [bjal̪ˠəx] = pass; access; detour; breach, gap, opening; inlet (Scottish Gaelic)
– bollagh = channel, course, curving uphill road, gap, gorge, lane, passage, route, thoroughfare (Manx)

ród [rˠoːdˠ] = road, highway. From the Old Irish rót (road, highway).

Related words in other Celtic languages:

– rathad [ra.ad] = road, way, route (Scottish Gaelic)
– raad [reːd̪, raːd̪] = avenue, drive, lane, pad, roadway (Manx)
– rhawd [r̥aud] = course, career (Welsh)
– roud = route, trace (Breton)

slí [ʃliː] = way, road, track, route, passage. From the Old Irish slige (gap, pass, road, path).

Related words in other Celtic languages:

– slighe [ʃl̪ʲi.ə] = path, track, trail, way; course, passage, route (Scottish Gaelic)

cosán = path; footway, track; way, passage; direction. From the Old Irish casán (path, footpath), from cás (foot).

Related words in other Celtic languages:

– casan [kasan] = path; supporting beam; treadle; wattle (Scottish Gaelic)
– cassan [keːzən] = passage, path, pathway, sidewalk, thoroughfare; walk, footpath; trajectory (Manx)

cabhsa = causeway; path, lane

sráid [sˠɾˠɑːdʲ] = street; level (surfaced) ground around house; village. From the Old Irish sráit (street, road, path, way), from the Old Norse stræti (street), from Late Latin strāta (a paved road).

Related words in other Celtic languages:

– sràid [sdraːdʲ] = street (Scottish Gaelic)
– straid = street; farmyard; thoroughfare (Manx)
– stryd [striːd] = street (Welsh)
– stret [strɛ:t] = street (Cornish)
– straed = alley, lane (Breton)

Incidentally, the English word road comes from the Middle English rode/rade, from the Old English rād (riding, hostile incursion), from the Proto-Germanic *raidō (a ride), from the Proto-Indo-European *reydʰ- (to ride).

Sources: teanglann.ie, Wiktionary, Fockleyreen, Am Faclair Beag, Dictionnaire Favereau breton, cornish dictionary / gerlyver kernewek

Turrys foddey / Turas fada / A Long Journey

Last night I arrived safely in Glencolmcille in Donegal in the northwest of Ireland. I left Peel at 8am, went by bus to Ronaldsway airport, flew to Dublin, then took buses all the way to Glencolmcille, arriving just before 8pm, so it took nearly 12 hours.

Sunset in Gleann Cholm Cille

I met people I know from previous visits to Ireland along the way – at Dublin airport, in Donegal town, and in Killybegs – so the journey didn’t seem quite so long as I had people to talk to. As they say in Irish, bíonn siúlach scéalach (travellers have tales to tell), and giorraíonn beirt bóthar (two people shorten a road).

On the road and after I arrived in Glencolmcille I had conversations in English, Irish, German, Welsh, and spoke odd bits of Russian, French, Romanian, Swedish and Manx.

Today the courses start – there are courses in Irish language, translation, flute and whistle player, and harp playing (that’s the one I’m doing), and also a group going hill walking every day.

There are people here from many countries, including Ireland, the UK, the USA, Australia, France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Finland, Germany, Switzerland, Belarus, Brazil and Slovakia. So I will have plenty of opportunities to practise my languages.

An Clachán, Gleann Cholm Cille

Celtic conversations

This week I’ve had quite a few conversations in Manx. I only speak it when I come to the Isle of Man, and when I meet Manx learners at polyglot events. At the beginning of the week my Manx was decidedly rusty, but it’s starting to flow now. When I don’t know a word or phrase in Manx, I switch to Irish, and often get away with it. It helps that some of the Manx speakers I know here also speak Irish.

As well as Manx, and English, I spoke some Welsh last night, and odd bits of Scottish Gaelic, Cornish and Breton.

The performers here for the festival are from the Isle of Man, Scotland and Ireland. The songs have been in English and Manx, and the evening concerts have been introduced bilingually in Manx and English. There aren’t any performers here from Wales, Cornwall or Brittany this year, but there have been in previous years.

Tomorrow I’m off to Glencolmcille (Gleann Cholm Cille) in Donegal in the northwest of Ireland. I will speak plenty of Irish there, and probably other languages, and learn more traditional Irish songs and tunes.

In a jiffy

In a jiffy

A jiffy is very short, unspecified length of time. For example, “I’ll be back in a jiffy”.

It can refer to more precise units of time, and was first defined by Gilbert Newton Lewis (1875–1946) as the time it takes light to travel one centimeter in a vacuum (about 33.3564 picoseconds). Other definitions are available.

Jiffy [ˈd͡ʒɪ.fi] was first recorded in English in 1785 and its origin is uncertain. One possibity is that it was Thieves’ Cant for lightning. It used to be written giffy, and may be related to gliff (a transient glance; an unexpected view of something that startles one; a sudden fear) [source].

Jiffy is also a brand of padded envelope and other packaging, so you could, if you were so inclined, send someone something in a jiffy (bag/envelope) in a jiffy.

Other expressions that indicate that something will happen very soon include:

– at once
– now
– right now
– straight away
– immediately
– in an instant
– instantly
– in a minute
– in a moment
– in a second
– in a trice
– in a mo
– in a sec
– in a tic
– in a heartbeat
– as quick as a flash
– in a second / in a sec
– in two shakes of a lamb’s tail
– in the blink of an eye
– before you know it

Welsh equivalents include:

– ar unwaith (at once)
– yn syth (immediately)
– ar y gair (on the word)
– yn y fan (in the place)
– yn ddi-oed (without delay)
– mewn chwinciad (in a wink)

The length of time indicated by these expressions can vary considerably. When some people say they will do something staight away, they really mean it. Others might mean that they will do it at some time in the future, maybe, if they can be bothered, but don’t hold your breath.

When I’m asked to do something I don’t really want to do, I might say that I’ll do it when I have a spare moment (or two), or if I can find the time. This might mean that I will actually do it, or that I won’t.

Do you know/use other expressions, in English or other languages, for short lengths of time?

When asked to do something you would rather not do, how would you politely decline?

This post was inspired by a reference to Jiffy Pop, a brand of popcorn, in a novel I’m reading at the moment, The Art of Disappearing, by Ivy Pochoda. I had to look it up.

When your gran is your granddad

In a book I’m reading at the moment – Border Country by Raymond Williams – one of the characters calls his grandfather ‘Gran‘, which strikes me as unusally. To me gran could only refer to a grandmother. Does it seem strange to you?

I only remember one of my grandparents – my dad’s mum – who I think we called granny. We used the same term for my mum’s stepmother, who was with us until 2013.

Some people I know have different names for their grandmothers. For example, their mum’s mum might be nan, and their dad’s mum might be gran or granny. I haven’t noticed people having different names for their grandfathers in English.

In Welsh though, people sometimes add the name of the place where they live to the words for grandfather and grandmother. For example, Taid Dinbych (Denbigh Granddad) and Nain Caergybi (Holyhead Granny), or in South Wales Tad-cu Casnewydd (Newport Granddad) and Mam-gu Caerdydd (Cardiff Granny).

What do you call, or did you call, your grandparents?

Les mots de la semaine

français English Cymraeg
la station métérorologique = weather station gorsaf dywydd
la station balnéaire seaside resort tref lan môr
la station de ski ski resort cyrchfan sgi
la station thermale spa tref ffynhonnau, sba, ffynhonfa
la station de lavage car wash golchfa geir, lle golchi ceir
l’accord (m) deal (agreement) bargen, cynnig
hors de portée beyond/out of reach allan o gyrraedd, y tu hwnt i’ch cyrraedd
à portée (de qn) within reach (of sb) o fewn cyrraedd (i rywun)
se remettre (de); se rétablir (de) to recover (from illness) gwella
vertical vertical unionsyth, fertigol
le kitesurfing kitesurfing barcudfyrddio
l’élan (m) elk (European) elc, cawrgarw
l’orignal (m) moose (Canadian) elc
crise des cinquante midlife crisis argyfwng canol oed
l’examen (medical) check up archwiliad
la caisse crate (for bottles, china) cawell, bocs rhwyllog, crât, crêt
le cageot crate (for fruit, veg) cawell, bocs rhwyllog, crât, crêt
la vis screw sgriw, hoelen