The capital of
Krungthephphramahanakhonbowonratanakossinmahintharayuthayamahadilokphiphobnovpharadradchataniburiromudomsantisug
meaning: City of
It rather leaves the Welsh
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwillantysiliogogogoch
meaning St Mary’s Church by the pool of the white hazel trees, near the rapid whirlpool, by the red cave of the
Conclusions cannot always be drawn about historical connections. Some words are similar in numerous languages. Linguistic research has led to the theory of an Ur-language (Indo-European) spoken some fifty thousand years ago, from which most other languages have descended. Papa, for example, is used for ‘father’ in seventy percent of languages across the world.
Meanwhile, essential latterday vocabulary has crossed languages as easily as the jet-setting executive who uses it:
Who better than the pragmatic French would construct a precise terminology for love as business, ranking from a passe raide, the basic price for a sex session, to the kangourou, a prospective client who hesitates (hops around) before deciding on a girl.
When it comes to those who ply their trade, there are many equally specific terms. An escaladeuse de braguette is, literally a zipper climber; a beguineuse is an unreliable prostitute; a wagonnière is a woman who solicits on trains; a truqueur means a rentboy who blackmails his clients; while a cocotte-minute is a pro who turns many tricks very quickly (literally, a pressure cooker). There is even an expresión, commencer à rendre la monnaie, to show signs of age, which is said of prostitutes who in better days didn’t have to give change for large notes.
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 or fan early steam-powered car; subsequently growing to chauffeur.
Hashhashin (Arabic) one who smokes 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 living medicine in sugar syrup to disguise its taste; thus treacle.
When it comes to personality, some people seem to have been put on the planet to make life easier for everyone else:
Cooperar: (Spansih,
Abozzare: (Italian) to accept meekly a far from satisfactory situation.
Ilunga: (
Flattering
Vaseliner: (French) to flatter (literally, to apply Vaseline)
Happobijin: (Japanese) a beauty to all eight directions (a sycophant)
Radfahrer: (German) one who flatters superiors and browbeats subordinates (literally, a cyclist)
Fawning
The Japanese have the most vivid description for hangers-on: kingyo no funi. It literally means ‘goldfish crap’ –a reference to the way that a fish that has defecated often trails excrement behind it for some time.
Sweet-talking others is one thing; massaging your own ego can be another altogether:
Echarse flores: (Spanish) to blow your own trumpet (literally, to throw flowers to yourself)
Il ne se mouche pas du pied: (French) he has airs above his station (literally, he doesn’t wipe his nose with his foot)
Yi luan tou shi: (Chinese) courting disaster by immoderately overestimating one’s own strength (literally, to throw an egg against a rock)
Tirer la couverture a soi: (French) to take the lion’s share, all the credit (literally, to pull the blanket towards oneself)
Specific numbers are used in some colloquial phrases:
Mettre des queues aux zeros (French) to add tails to noughts : to overcharge
Siete (Spanish,
Mein Rad hat eine Acht (German) my bike has an eight : a buckled wheel
Se mettre sur son trente et un (French) to put yourself on your thirty one : to get all dressed up
Ein Gesicht wie 37 Tage Regenwetter haben (German) to have a face like thirty-seven days of rain : a long face
The last words in a lifetime are significant just for that fact. Many important people have carefully selected them; in some other cases death took them a little by surprise. Some last words sum up a life’s path, some… well, some are just silly. Some are totally true, the rest, perhaps a little suspicious. Let’s take a look:
“Je vais ou je vas mourir, l’un et l’autre se dit ou se disent”
(Translation: “I am about to — or I am going to — die: either expression is correct”)
- Dominique Bouhours
(a French grammarian)
“LSD, 100 micrograms I.M.”
- Aldous Huxley
(in a note to his wife - she obliged and he was injected twice before his death)
“Put out the bloody cigarette!”
- Saki, AKA Hector Hugh Munro
(spoken to a fellow officer while in a trench during World War One, for fear the smoke would give away their positions. He was then shot by a German sniper who had heard the remark)
“¡Carajo, un balazo!”
(Translation: “Damn! A bullet!”)
- Antonio José de Sucre
(after being shot while riding his horse in the Colombian jungle on his way home. He was said to have been a fine gentleman who had never cursed until that day, according to Ricardo Palma’s “Tradiciones en Salsa Verde”)
“That was the best ice-cream soda I ever tasted”
