— Robert Benchley
I love languages. I always have and I always will – I love playing around with words, meanings, expressions, … and each language seems to have its own peculiarities, making it more suit for a certain situation. French has a high level of drama embedded in it, while Portuguese means love, and romance. English is more robust, solid, and to the point, and Dutch is very good at handling day-to-day business. Needless to say, I first fell in love while being on a French language course, I had a Portuguese boyfriend for 2 years, all work-related communications are in English and my mother tongue is Dutch. As a result, I often find myself blending words and expressions from each of these languages in whatever language I’m speaking at that particular moment, because, well, they simply fit better with what it is I’m trying to say. I give you: my favorite words and expressions.
I have a strange love-hate relationship with English. I feel very comfortable in it (yes, “in”, not “with”), it has a strange familiarity and its vocabulary houses a number of truly great words.
It’s not so much the meaning of the word in itself, but rather how the word image matches so well with what it means. However (another favorite of mine), they should be written the British way. It should be “colour”. And “flavour”. “Flavor” just doesn’t do “flavour” justice – it’s so bland, it doesn’t really taste like anything. The pronunciation, on the other hand, should be South African. Or Irish. You gotta love the South African accent, ya!
My main problem with English though is that I seem to be talking it all the time. Even when I talk French, or Dutch, English words and expressions wriggle (beautiful one, also!) their way into my sentences until I’m not sure which language I’m speaking. Whatever. There you go. You got me there! Please? No way. Oh my God. We have similar expression in Dutch, but they just don’t seem to do. And now that the vast majority of my communication is in English I have not only taken up the habit of literally translating English expressions into Dutch (“it doesn’t make sense” just doesn’t make sense in Dutch, trust me), but half of the nouns I use are either English or anglicisms of some sort. I have never understood how people could forget their mother tongue, but sometimes I feel I’m well on my way ;).
Ah, marvelous, versatile Dutch … the number of dialects alone make it worthwhile studying. However, since my parents decided – in a fit of insanisty, I’m sure – to raise me in “General Dutch”, my dialect skills are below zero. I understand it to a certain degree, but it stops there. And thus I specialize more in the other end of the language spectrum: the academic, elite kind of speech. I’ve often heard I manage to make the simplest things sound complicated, as I use a vocabulary which seems to belong more in the 8 o’clock news than in a conversation between friends. I’m particularly fond of conjunctions, such as “daarentegen” and “desalniettemin”. Basically, a words need at least 4 syllables to be even considered being placed in my vocabulary ;).
However, one two-syllable word needs mentioning.
Like “saudades”, there is no simple translation for this one. Goesting is a desire for something, but it comes from deep within, you know? Like when you come back from a long walk, and you just feel goesting for a beer. It’s much stronger than just feeling like a beer, it’s something you need. Or when you have this special little feeling, after dinner, you’re really stuffed, and content, but you just would wanna have a cookie. That’s goesting. Of course, it applies also to other… non-food… things, so ladies – beware if you get near a guy with a pair of trousers full of goesting… . He might not have a strawberry ice cream with whipped cream in mind.
I owe you all an apology – despite my promise last Friday, the Smörgåsbord and Quote didn’t go up this weekend as planned… the reason is simple : moi.
I have a nasty habit of forgetfulness, and it happens that I leave my laptop charger at the lab. It happens that I leave my lab entrance card at the lab. It doesn’t happen too often that both occur at the same time but last weekend, they did. With no card, I couldn’t get into the lab myself to get the charger, and with no battery, I couldn’t mail my colleagues to ask if I could borrow theirs (I don’t have their mobile numbers. I’m not thát social. Yet.). Result: an internet-less weekend. Which was all the less convenient since I needed to make arrangements with T who was arriving on Sunday.
So I will try and finish the posts and get them up THIS weekend, and as a consolation I give you some pictures from my Halloween costume! I am still confused as to the fact that Halloween costumes apparently do not necessarily have to be scary, but I gladly took advantage and dressed up as Pippi Långstrump – two H&M t-shirts, a pair of stripy stockings (H&M), some felt, flowers, scissors, needle and thread, and you are the coolest Swedish chick ever!
I know the pictures aren’t of the highest quality, but this is my dad’s camera which I recently bought from him and I still need some practice with the settings and all that … . In addition these were taken AFTER the party when I got back home, so I wasn’t really prepared to put much effort to it ;).
Other costumes spotted at the party were: a guy with a pencil driven through his body, a (very!) pregnant spider, a lego-block, spring, a belly-dancer (I could totally do that one!), and my personal favorite: Edward Scissorhands. I looooove Tim Burton.