Europe 2001: A Travelogue
Blub! Ik ben een vis!
Eurodiary, 20 October 2001, 13:33 (1:33 p.m.)
This entry is dedicated to our vocal and verbal niece Sarah, and to her new sister, Ilana, who someday will undoubtedly be just as talkative.
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Dutch is a funny language. I suppose all languages have their quirks, and I really don't know Dutch well enough to profess any level of expertise, but I still think it's funny.
Living here, we pick up certain words, and by working with Dutch people I've been able to have some things explained. For example, lots of Dutch words are borrowed from other languages, but their spellings have been changed. So foot becomes voet.
In other cases, knowing the context or the root words are sufficient for understanding compound words. Peanut, for example, is pinda, and peanut butter is pindakaas -- peanut cheese, literally. Gloves are handschoenen -- hand shoes.
In fact, with a moderate understanding of a few languages, especially English and German, you can listen to Dutch and half understand it. But unless you understood the rules of pronunciation, you'd be lost in trying to read it.
Other copied words are less understandable, unless you know their etymology. The word for flower is bloem (bloom), which makes sense. The word for flour, however, is apparently also bloem -- from what I was told, it's because the Dutch heard the two English words and figured if one word was sufficient for the Brits, it was sufficient for them, too.
The word for squirrel, from what I hear, is "acorn" -- perhaps spelled differently, but you can understand the derivation. I guess they don't have squirrels in Holland.
Similarly, wrist is "pulse."
This is not the first I'd heard of odd foreign words adopted from English. In Russian, according to a former professor of mine at the LSE, the word for train comes from the name of a particular train station in London -- apparently arising from a misinterpretation of the question being asked by the czar's aides.
I'm sure there are lots of similar stories.
Obviously, language also reflects culture. One of the most telling examples I have on this count is the word aanslag, which is pronounced kind of like onslaught, and may also be related to the German word anschluss. Aanslag is the term all over the papers that's used to describe the September 11 attack. It's different from the term aanval, however, which is used in describing the current attacks on Afghanistan. Aanslag is a surprise attack, often from behind -- kind of like a stab in the back -- whereas aanval is a planned, announced, frontal assault (at least, that's the way it was described to me).
A side note, however, is what makes this fun and interesting rather than purely academic. Apparently, when the Dutch government sends out its tax forms, they are also called an aanslag. For a fairly socialist government and society, it's an amusing commentary.
On a relatively unrelated note, Adam and I have been amused by some of the movie ads we've seen. Our favorite was for a kids' cartoon movie called "Blub! Ik ben een vis!" -- that is, I am a fish. Completely silly, but pervasive, and now whenever we're at a water cooler it's all we can do to keep from laughing when the tank goes "blub-blub-blub-blub." (Perhaps you had to be there...) Anyway, among other things, the reference to "vis" tends to remind me of Sarah, who quite likes the creatures.
Also on the topic of vis, there's a restaurant near the station called Blauwe Vis, which at one point led me to muse, Een vis, Twee vis, Rode vis, Blauwe vis. Doesn't have quite the rhyme scheme, so I asked a coworker the other day if they have Dr Seuss here. Apparently, yes, but it's not translated into Dutch. I guess the words are funny enough without translation!
On that note, I think I'll end this entry. Rather shorter than recent ones, but you deserve a break. Enjoy the weekend!