Labhair Gaeilge liom

I just watched a video of an interview in Irish that Benny Lewis did on Raidió na Life, the Irish language radio station in Dublin. Benny mentions that he has had a t-shirt made with “Labhair Gaeilge liom” (Speak Irish with me) on it and that people who see the shirt speak Irish to him, if they can, even in places where he didn’t expect to find Irish speakers.

What a good idea, I thought. In Ireland you can’t tell if someone speaks Irish just by looking at them, so you never know who to speak Irish to, and people don’t know if you speak Irish either. A t-shirt like Benny’s clears up both uncertainties. The same is true in Wales, Scotland and other places where minority languages are spoken – you don’t know who speaks them. Similar clothing or badges could be useful for other languages as well.

It would be interesting to wander round London, for example, wearing a t-shirt with “Labhair Gaeilge liom” and/or “Siaradwch Gymraeg â fi” (Speak Welsh with me) to say how many Irish and/or Welsh speakers you could find. Or I’m sure you’d get a lot of interest if you wore a badge saying “你可以跟我说汉语” (You can speak Chinese to me).

Have you tried this for any languages?

Could you give me translations of this phrase in various languages so I can put together a new phrases page?

Llongau gofod a selsig (Spaceships and sausages)

This is my latest little animation made using Xtranormal. It’s a silly little conversation between two robots which touches on such topics as the best way to get to the moon, a top secret Welsh spaceship, why vegetarians are at a disadvantage when it comes to local news and gossip, and ostrich sausages.

The conversation is in Welsh (written and recorded by me) with Welsh and English subtitles. I might add subtitles in other languages as well.

Bead houses

There’s a village near where I live called Betws-y-Coed [ˈbɛtʊs ə ˈkɔɨd], which means ‘prayer house in the wood’. I knew the meaning of the name, but hadn’t considered where the word betws might come from. Last night a friend told me that it comes from an English word ‘bead house’, meaning a prayer house or oratory.

Wikipedia agress with this saying the word Betws or Bettws comes from the Old English bed-hus (house of prayer, oratory). The name was first recorded as ‘Betus’ in 1254.

According to this Old English Dictionary the Old English word bed means ‘prayer, supplication; religious ordinance, service’, hús means ‘house; temple, tabernacle; dwelling-place; inn; household; family, race’, and gebédhús is a house of prayer or oratory.

Apparently the Welsh words bacws (bakery) and warws (warehouse) contain the same hús root. I can’t find confirmation of this, but it sounds plausible. I guessed that these words came from English, but hadn’t made the connection with Betws before.

They must have been borrowed before the Great Vowel Shift which started during the 14th century. Before then house or hús was pronounced /hu:s/, as it still is in northern English and Scots. The /haus/ pronunciation emerged during the 18th century.

Les mots de la semaine

– bouchon (m) / embouteillage (m) = traffic jam = tagfa drafnidiaeth (f)
– descendre en rappel = to abseil = abseilio
– rebondir = to bounce = sboncio / bowndio / tampio
– rebond (m) = bounce = sbonc / bownd
– être refusé = to bounce (a cheque) = gwrthod
– videur = bouncer = dryswr
– squelette (m) = skeleton = (y)sgerbwd / esgyrn sychion
– être aigri / en voulour à tout le monde = to have a chip on one’s shoulder = sglodyn ar dy ysgwydd

Les mots de la semaine

– asticoter = to wind up (annoy, provoke) = pryfocio, cythruddo
– fermer = to wind up (a company) = dirwyn i ben
– faire marcher qn = to pull sb’s leg (tease) = tynnu coes rhywun
– la (future/jeune) mariée = bride = priodferch
– le marié = (bride)groom = priodfab
– se casser le col du fémur = to break one’s hip = torri clun
– directeur (-trice) = warden (institution) = warden
– contractuel (le) = traffic warden = warden traffig
– barboter / faire trempette = to paddle (in water) = padlo / rhodli
– pagayer = to paddle (boat/canoe) = padlo
– (faire la) nage du chien = (to do the) doggy paddle = padlo ci

Scottish adventures

I’ve been in Scotland since last Saturday, mainly at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig, the Gaelic college on the Isle of Skye. I’m doing a course in Gaelic mouth music (puirt à beul) and waulking songs (òrain luaidh) with Christine Primrose, and am having a wonderful time.

There are eight of us in the singing class – some from Scotland, some from England, one from Japan and one from Sardinia. The ones from Japan and Sardinia are both professional singers, and earlier today we were treated to some lovely songs from Okinawa, which sound quite similar to Irish traditional songs.

I’ve been speaking quite a bit of Scottish Gaelic, and find that I can now understand most of what I hear in Gaelic and have relatively complex conversations – so my Gaelic has improved a lot since I was last here four years ago. When I don’t know how to say something in Scottish Gaelic I try saying it in Irish and it’s usually understood, though not always.

I’ve also spoken some French, German, Czech and Welsh here, and quite a bit of Japanese. My Japanese is very rusty, but it’s starting to come back. It’s great to have opportunities to speak so many languages 🙂

Menhirs, dolmens and cromlechs

A menhir from Brittany and a cromleac from Ireland

The word menhir come up in discussion yesterday and I posted it on Facebook today along with the the Welsh translation maen hir, which is what I found in this dictionary. This provoked further discussion about whether the two terms mean the same thing. So I thought I’d find out.

A menhir is a standing stone of the kind that Obelix delivers in the Asterix books. According to the Dictionary of Word Origins and the OED, menhir comes from Breton mean-hir (long stone), which is what the Welsh term maen hir means, so it seems that they are the same. The usual Breton word for such standing stones is peulvan, however.

The word dolmen (a prehistoric structure of two or more upright stones surmounted by a horizontal one), comes via French from Breton: the men part means stone, and the dol part either comes from the Breton word tōl (table), a borrowing from the Latin tabula (board, plank), or from the Cornish tol (hole). So dolmen either means ‘stone table’ or ‘stone hole’.

The word dolmen also exists in Welsh, and another word for such structures is cromlech, which exists in Welsh and English and comes from the Welsh words crwm (bent, stooped) and llech (stone), and is related to the Irish word cromleac (‘bent stone’).

Les mots de la semaine

– mégalithe (m) = megalith = megalith / maen mawr
– menhir (m) = standing stone = maen hir
– dolmen (m) = dolmen = dolmen / cromlech
– tombe (f) tombeau (m) = tomb = bedd
– faire dévier de son sujet / distraire / dérouter = to sidetrack = gwrthdynnu / troi o’r neilltu
– s’écarter de son sujet = to get sidetracked
– en liquide = in cash = ym mhres / yn arian parod
– payer comptant = to pay cash = talu drwy/ag arian parod
– petite caisse = petty cash = arian pitw/mân
– argent liquide = ready cash = arian/pres parod
– monnaie (f) = change = newid (?)
– guérir = to cure (illness, problem, habit) = iacháu / gwella
– remède (m) = a cure = iachâd / gwellhad
– agent secret = secret agent = asiant cudd
– sous contrôle = under control = dan rheolaeth
– c’est une honte! = it’s a disgrace! = mae’n waradwydd!
– grange (f) = barn = ysgubor
– injection (f) piqûre (f) = injection = pigiad

Gleann Cholm Cille

I returned to Bangor from the Isle of Man yesterday after a very enjoyable week at Yn Chruinnaght. I spoke and sang lots of Manx, and heard all the other Celtic languages, except Breton, being spoken and/or sung. I also spoke a bit of French and German, and even some English.

I was even inspired to write a new song while I was there, which is even sillier than my previous efforts.

Today I arrived in Gleann Cholm Cille for the Summer School in Irish language and Culture at Oideas Gael, so am now switching to Irish mode. During the week I’m here blog posts, up-dates on Omniglot and replies to emails might become somewhat sporadic.

Sonic the happy Manx hedgehog

Arkan sonney (hedgehog)

Arkan sonney is a Manx expression I came across today that means hedgehog, or literally “happy sucking pig”. Arkan is a diminutive form of ark (piglet), and sonney means ‘affluent, lucky, fortunate, happy’, and sounds a bit like sonic, hence the little of this post.

Another Manx word for hedgehog is graynoge, which is related to the Irish and Scottish Gaelic words for hedgehog: gráinneog and gràineag. The root of these words is gráin (abhorrence, disgust), so they mean ‘the abhorrent/disgusting one’. The Welsh word for hedgehog, draenog, possibly comes from the same root.

According to Wikipedia, arkan sonney, means literally ‘lucky urchin’ or ‘plentiful pig’, and in Manx folklore it refers to a type of supernatural creature that looks like a long-haired pig. It was said that if you caught an arkan sonney or ‘lucky piggie’, which tend to run away from people, you’ll be lucky and will find a silver piece in your pocket.

Sources: On-line Manx Dictionary, Irish Dictionary Online and MacBain Dictionary