hubbi (Arabic) friendly
kill (Arabic) good friend
bless (Icelandic) goodbye
no (Andean Sabela) correct
aye (Amharic, Ethiopia) no
fart (Turkish) talking nonsense
machete (Aukan, Suriname) how
The unspeakable…
Cursing and swearing are practised worldwide, and they generally involve using the local version of a small set of words describing an even smaller set of taboos that surround God, the family, sex and the more unpleasant bodily functions. Occasionally, apparently inoffensive words acquire a darker overtone, such as the Chinese wang bah dahn, which literally means a turtle egg but is used as an insult for politicians. And offensive phrases can often be beguilingly inventive:
zolst farliren aleh tseyner achitz eynm, un dos zol dir vey ton (Yiddish) may you lose all your teeth but one and may that one ache
así te tragues un pavo y todas las plumas se conviertan en cuchillas de afeitar (Spanish) may all your turkey’s feathers turn into razor blades
… the unmentionable
Taboo subjects, relating to local threats or fears, are often quirky in the extreme. Albanians, for example, never use the word for ‘wolf’. They say instead mbyllizogojen, a contraction of a sentence meaning ‘may God close his mouth’. Another Albanian taboo-contraction is the word for fairy, shtozovalle, which means may ‘God increase their round-dances’. Similarly, in the Sami language of Northern Scandinavia and the Yakuts language of Russia, the original name for bear is replaced by a word meaning ‘our lord’ or ‘good father’. In Russian itself, for similar reasons, a bear is called a medved’ or ‘honey-eater’.
… and the unutterable
In Masai the name of a dead child, woman or warrior is not spoken again and, if their name is also a word used every day, then it is no longer used by the bereaved family. The Sakalavas of Madagascar do not tell their own name or that of their village to strangers to prevent any mischievous use. The Todas of Southern India dislike uttering their own name and, if asked, will get someone else to say it.
Shocking soundalikes
The French invented the word ordinateur, supposedly in order to avoid using the first two syllables of the word computer (con is slang for vagina and pute for whore). Creek Indians in America avoid their native words for earth (fakki) and meat (apiswa) because of their resemblance to rude English words.
In Japan, four (shi) and nine (ku) are unlucky numbers, because the words sound the same as those for ‘death’ and ‘pain or worry’ respectively. As a result, some hospitals don’t have the numbers 4, 9, 14,19, or 42 for any of their rooms. Forty-two (shi-ni) means to die, 420 (shi-ni-rei) means a dead spirit and 24 (ni-shi) is double death. Nor do some hospitals use the number 43 (shi-zan), especially in the maternity ward, as it means stillbirth.
Fare well
Many expressions for goodbye offer the hope that the other person will travel or fare well. But it is not always said. Yerdengh-nga is a Wagiman word from Australia, meaning ‘to clear off without telling anyone where you are going’. Similarly, in Indonesia, minggat means ‘to leave home for good without saying goodbye’.
On reflection
Snobs and chauffeurs
Words don’t necessarily keep the same meaning. Simple descriptive words such as ‘rain’ or ‘water’ are clear and necessary enough to be unlikely to change. Other more complex words have often come on quite a journey since they were first coined:
al-kuhul (Arabic) originally, powder to darken the eyelids; then taken up by alchemists to refer to any fine powder; then applied in chemistry to any refined liquid obtained by distillation or purification, especially to alcohol of wine, which then was shortened to alcohol
chauffer (French) to heat; then meant the driver of an early steam-powered car; subsequently growing to chauffeur
hashhashin (Arabic) one who smokes or chews hashish; came to mean assassin
manu operare (Latin) to work by hand; then narrowed to the act of cultivating; then to the dressing that was added to the soil, manure
prestige (French) conjuror’s trick; the sense of illusion gave way to that of glamour which was then interpreted more narrowly as social standing or wealth
sine nobilitate (Latin) without nobility; originally referred to any member of the lower classes; then to somebody who despised their own class and aspired to membership of a higher one; thus snob
theriake (Greek) an antidote against a poisonous bite; came to mean the practice of giving medicine in sugar syrup to disguise its taste; thus treacle
An Arabian goodbye
In Syrian Arabic, goodbye is generally a three-part sequence: a) bxatrak, by your leave; b) ma’assalama, with peace; c) ’allaysallmak, God keep you. If a) is said first, then b) is the reply and then c) may be used. If b) is said first, then c) is obligatory.
From Top to Toe
chi non ha cervello abbia
gambe (Italian)
he who has not got a good brain
ought to have good legs
Use your onion…
English-speakers are not the only ones to use food metaphors – bean, loaf, noodle, etc. – to describe the head. The Spanish cebolla means both ‘head’ and ‘onion’, while the Portuguese expression
… or use your nut
In Hawaii, a different item of food takes centre stage. The word puniu means ‘the skull of a man which resembles a coconut’. Hawaiian has also given the world the verb pana po’o, ‘to scratch your head in order to help you remember something you’ve forgotten’.
Pulling faces
The Arabic sabaha bi-wajhi means to begin the day by seeing someone’s face. Depending on their expression, this can be a good or bad omen:
sgean (Scottish Gaelic) a wild look of fear on the face
kao kara hi ga deru (Japanese) a blush (literally, a flame comes out of one’s face)
verheult (German) puffy-faced and red-eyed from crying
Backpfeifengesicht (German) a face that cries out for a fist in it
Greek face-slapping
There are several vivid Greek words for being slapped in the face, including sfaliara, hastouki, fappa, xestrefti, boufla, karpasia and sulta’meremet (‘the Sultan will put you right’). Batsos means both ‘a slap in the face’ and ‘a policeman’ (from the American use of the word ‘cop’ to mean ‘swipe’). Anapothi describes a backhanded slap, while tha fas bouketo, ‘you will eat a bunch of flowers’, is very definitely not an invitation to an unusual meal.
Windows of the soul
Eyes can be our most revealing feature, though the way others see them may not always be quite what we’d hoped for:
makahakahaka (Hawaiian) deep-set eyeballs
mata ego (Rapa Nui, Easter Island) eyes that reveal that a person has been crying
ablaq-chashm (Persian) having intensely black and white eyes
jegil (Malay) to stare with bulging eyes
melotot (Indonesian) to stare in annoyance with widened eyes
All ears
English is not terribly helpful when it comes to characterizing ears, unlike, say, Albanian, in which people distinguish between veshok (‘small ones’) or veshak (‘ones that stick out’). Other languages are similarly versatile:
tapawising (Ulwa, Nicaragua) pointed ears
a suentola (Italian) flappy ears
mboboyo (Bemba, Congo and Zambia) sore ears
Indonesian offers two useful verbs: nylentik, ‘to flick someone with the middle finger on the ear’, and menjewer, ‘to pull someone by the ear’. While the Russian for ‘to pull someone’s leg’ is veshat’ lapshu na ushi, which literally translates as ‘to hang noodles on someone’s ears’.
A real mouthful
In Nahuatl, the
language of the Aztecs which is still spoken today in Mexico, camachaloa is ‘to open one’s mouth’, camapaca is ‘to wash one’s mouth’, and camapotoniliztli is ‘to have bad breath’.
Getting lippy
Lips can be surprisingly communicative:
zunda (Hausa, Nigeria) to indicate with one’s lips
catkhara (Hindi) smacking either the lips or the tongue against the palate
die beleidigte Leberwurst spielen (German) to stick one’s lower lip out sulkily (literally, to play the insulted liver sausage)
ho’oauwaepu’u (Hawaiian) to stick the tongue under one’s lip or to jut out the chin and twist the lips to the side to form a lump (as a gesture of contempt)
Hooter
Noses are highly metaphorical. We win by a nose, queue nose to tail or ask people to keep their noses out of our business. Then, if they are annoying us, it’s that same protuberant feature we seize on:
irgham (Persian) rubbing a man’s nose in the dirt
hundekuq (Albanian) a bulbous nose, red at the tip
nuru (Roviana, Solomon Islands) a runny nose
engsang (Malay) to blow the nose with your fingers
Albanian face fungus
Just below the nose may be found a feature increasingly rare in this country, but popular amongst males in many other societies. In Albania the language reflects an interest bordering on obsession, with no fewer than twenty-seven separate expressions for this fine addition to the upper lip. Their word for moustache is similar to ours (mustaqe) but once attached to their highly specific adjectives, things move on to a whole new level:
madh bushy moustache
holl thin moustache
varur drooping moustache
big handlebar moustache
kacadre moustache with turned-up ends
glemb moustache with tapered tips
posht moustache hanging down at the ends
fshes long broom-like moustache with bristly hairs
dirs ur newly sprouted moustache (of an adolescent)
rruar with the moustache shaved off
… to name but ten. The attention the Albanians apply to facial hair they also apply to eyebrows, with another twenty-seven words, including pencil-thin (vetullkalem), frowning (vetullvrenjtur), plucked (vetullhequr), knitted (vetullrrept), long and delicately shaped (vetullgajtan), thick (vetullor), joined together (vetullperpjekur), gloomy (vetullngrysur), or even arched like the crescent moon (vetullhen).
Bearded wonder
The Arab exclamation ‘God protect us from hairy women and beard-less men’ pinpoints the importance of facial hair as a mark of rank, experience and attractiveness:
gras bilong fes (Tok Pisin, Papua New Guinea) a beard (literally, grass belonging to the face)
hemigeneios (Ancient Greek) with only half a beard
qarba (Persian) white hairs appearing in the beard
sim-zanakh (Persian) with a silver chin
poti (Tulu, India) a woman with a beard
False friends
willing (Abowakal, Australia) lips
buzz (Arabic) nipple
bash (Zulu) head
thumb (Albanian) teat
finger (Yiddish) toe
Bad hair day
Hair on the top of the head – or the lack of it – remains a worldwide preoccupation:
basribis (Ulwa, Nicaragua) having uneven, poorly cut hair
daberlack (Ullans, Northern Ireland) seaweed or uncontrollable long hair
kudpalu (Tulu, India) a woman with uncombed hair
kucir (Indonesian) a tuft left to grow on top of one’s otherwise bald head
… not forgetting the Indonesian word didis, which means ‘to search and pick up lice from one’s own hair, usually when in bed at night’.
Teething troubles
Why doesn’t English have an expression for the space between the teeth when Malay does – gigi rongak? And that’s not the only gap in our dental vocabulary:
mrongos (Indonesian) to have ugly protruding upper teeth
angil (Kapampangan, Philippines) to bare the fangs like a dog
laglerolarpok (Inuit) the gnashing of teeth
kashr (Persian) displaying the teeth in laughter
zhaghzhagh (Persian) the chattering of the teeth from the cold or from rage
And that one bizarre word that few of us are ever likely to need:
puccekuli (Tulu, India) a tooth growing after the eightieth year
Getting it in the neck
Although there are straightforward terms for the throat in almost all languages, it’s when it comes to describing how the throat is used that things get interesting:
nwik-ga (Wagiman, Australia) to have a tickle in the throat
ngaobera (Pascuense, Easter Island) a slight inflammation of the throat caused by screaming too much
berdaham (Malaysian) to clear the throat, especially to attract attention
kökochöka (Nahuatl, Mexico) to make gulping sounds
jarida biriqihi (Arabic) he choked on but couldn’t swallow saliva (from excitement, alarm or grief)
o ka la nokonoko (Hawaiian) a day spent in nervous anticipation of a coughing spell
Armless in Nicaragua
In Ulwa, which is spoken in the eastern part of Nicaragua, no distinction is made between certain parts of the body. So, for example, wau means either a thigh or a leg, ting is an arm or a hand (and tingdak means missing an arm or a hand), tingmak is a finger or a thumb, tibur is either a wrist or an ankle, and kungbas means a beard, a moustache or whiskers.
Safe pair of hands
Other languages are more specific about our extremities and their uses:
sakarlasmak (Turkish) to become butterfingered
lutuka (Tulu, India) the cracking of the fingers
angushti za’id (Persian) someone with six fingers
zastrich’ (Russian) to cut one’s nails too short
meshetmek (Turkish) to wipe with the wet palm of one’s hand
anjali (Hindi) hollowed hands pressed together in salutation
Legging it
Undue attention is put on their shapeliness but the bottom line is it’s good to have two of them and they should, ideally, be the same length:
papakata (Cook Islands Maori) to have one leg shorter than the other
baguettes (French) thin legs (literally, chopsticks or long thin French loaves)
x-bene (Afrikaans) knock-knees
bulurin-suq (Persian) with thighs like crystal
Footloose
We don’t always manage to put our best one forward:
zassledit’ (Russian) to leave dirty footmarks
mencak-mencak (Indonesian) to stamp one’s feet on the ground repeatedly, getting very angry
eshte thike me thike (Albanian) to stand toenail to toenail (prior to an argument)
Mind the gap
Several cultures have words to describe the space between or behind limbs: irqa (Khakas, Siberia) is the gap between spread legs, and awawa (Hawaiian) that between each finger or toe. While jahja in Wagiman (Australia) and waal in Afrikaans both mean the area behind the knee.
Skin deep
We describe it with just one word but other cultures go much further, whether it’s alang (Ulwa, Nicaragua), the fold of skin under the chin; aka’aka’a (Hawaiian), skin peeling or falling off after either sunburn or heavy drinking; or karelu (Tulu, India), the mark left on the skin by wearing anything tight. Another Ulwa word, yuputka, records something we have all experienced – having the sensation of something crawling on one’s skin.