Figures of Speech

A language’s possession or lack of certain words and phrases, as well as their prevalence and connotations, can speak a lot of the culture it evolved in. Language is not only how we express our thoughts but also shapes our thinking. Several famous examples include Aboriginal Australians who speak in terms of absolute cardinal directions (north, south, east, west) rather than right or left and are therefore remarkably good at staying oriented in unfamiliar landscapes; Russians, who have more words for light and dark blues, are better able to discriminate between shades of blue; the Piraha people of Brazil, whose language, like those of the rabbits in Watership Down, eschews number words in favor of terms like few and many, are unable to keep track of exact quantities.

I’ve now got a pretty good grasp on the meanings, subtleties, and dualities of everyday Nepali words. Below are some of the quirks of the Nepali language I’ve come across. These aren’t academic observations by any means, but I believe some of them really capture some of Nepal’s defining characteristics:

·      Nepali has different words depending on the age of a relative and his/her specific relation to you. Whereas English uses “aunt” to denote both a parent’s sister and a parent’s sibling’s wife, in Nepali there are different words for your mother’s sister (thuli aamaa if she’s older than your mother, saanimaa if younger), mother’s brother’s wife (maiju), father’s sister (fupu), and father’s brother’s wife (kaaki). Likewise, their husbands (“uncles”) all have different names (thulo/saano buwaa; maama; fupaaju; kaaka).

·      Chiso (“cold” or “damp”) – In the village, chiso is believed to cause illness ranging from diarrhea to head colds and is probably the Nepali word I like hearing least. When the weather is chiso, Nepalis avoid eating foods that are “chiso” (i.e. contain a lot of water) such as cucumbers and apples are chiso. With its dual meaning, chiso becomes particularly confusing when trying to describe weather than is both hot and humid, since a word for “humid” or “damp” is not in the village vernacular.

·      Ahile (“now”) – Sometimes ahile means now, but sometimes it means in a minute, or in an hour, or fifteen minutes ago. Maybe a good loose definition is “in the vicinity of the present moment.”

·      Thulo manche (“big person”) – A thulo manche may be a community leader, government official, or wealthy person treated with special respect. Knowing a thulo manche can get you into a job or out of a jam. Some thulo manches are hardworking, inspirational, self-made men and women, but some have simply inherited their position and exploit their thulo manche status. Prestige is invaluable in Nepali society, a combination of your age, gender, caste, occupation, wealth, and connections.

·      Aaphno manche (“own person”) – An aaphno manche could be a relative, neighbor, or person who owes you a favor. Having an aaphno manche who is also a thulo manche is the ideal. People depend on their networks of aaphno and thulo manches, referred to as “channels”, to help them get ahead in the world.

·      Boot (both “past” and “ghost”)

·      Dhaan/chamal/bhaat (“rice”) – That’s right, Nepali has three different words for rice, for its three different stages: dhaan is unhusked rice; chamal is rice that has been husked but not cooked; bhaat is cooked rice. There are also different words for puffed rice and beaten rice, common Nepali snacks. Is the existence of so many words for rice a coincidence? I think not.

·      Khaana (“meal” or “rice”) – Khaana is a meal, eaten twice a day throughout most of Nepal. But while eating khaana, if you ask for more khaana, it’s understood that you mean more rice. Thus, the word for a meal is pretty much synonymous with rice. When villagers ask me about American food, many have a hard time understanding that we don’t eat rice or roti (flatbread) every day. In their thinking, a meal without rice or roti simply isn’t a meal.

·      Maasu (“meat” or “flesh”) – Maasu is typically goat or chicken, but also includes eggs. Because I eat eggs, some Nepalis don’t consider me a true vegetarian.

·      Namaste kira (“praying mantis”)

·      Gyaani (both “obedient” and “intelligent”) – Parents love to use this word to describe their children, as if to imply “look how smart my child is for obeying me.”

·      Rang (“color”) – There aren’t common Nepali words for the colors purple, pink, orange, or grey—in the village, these are typically considered shades of red, brown or white. This is consistent with a global pattern of the evolution of language in which terms first evolve for black and white, then red, then either green or yellow (followed by yellow or green, whichever was previously missing), then blue, and then brown—purple, pink, orange, and/or grey are the last colors to evolve.

·      Paani (both “water” and “rain”)

·      Ghumnu (“to wander around” or “to travel aimlessly”) – An acceptable reason for going anywhere; people might travel to the bazaar just to ghumnu. It so perfectly describes the act of roaming that many of us volunteers have picked up the habit of throwing it into our English conversations.

·      Maannu (“to consider”, “to regard”, “to respect”, “to worship”, “to obey”, or “to accept”) – I think it’s interesting that this one word encompasses so many related but distinct meanings.

·      Milaunu (“to match”, “to mix”, or “to arrange”). There’s no exact English translation for this verb, which can be used when reserving transportation, resolving a dispute, requesting a reduced price, or asking someone to do a favor. I think of it as “make it work for me.”

·      Re (“he says”, “she says”, “they say”, or ”it is said”) – Tacked on to the end of a sentence to express third-person ownership of a statement. Very handy when gossiping.

·      Tension (“stress”). This is one of many English words that have infiltrated the Nepali language in even the most remote places. Many are what you might expect, being recent arrivals to Nepal (e.g. “laptop”, “beer”, “HIV”, “bus”), but others seem like they ought to have been developed ages ago, like “coat” and “table”. In addition, the word “brush” is pronounced slightly differently when describing a hairbrush and toothbrush.

·      Danger (“cool” or “snazzy”) – A number of English words have taken on new meanings in Nepali. Some students once commented that my bicycle helmet was “danger,” (even though a helmet is the exact opposite of dangerous, and besides isn’t cool looking at all.

·      Ke garne? Este ho (“What to do? That’s the way it is”) – I’ve spoken a lot about this phrase in previous posts, but these two sentences (which may be uttered together or independently) reflect Nepalis’ passive acceptance of difficulties that may arise. I hear these phrases almost every day.