Two conversations – one in person and one over on Bluesky (if that counts) – brought words and language to mind for me today.
First off was a work conversation in which a Venezuelan expression, Donde ronca el tigre, no hay burro con reumatismo was used. The wider context was a work project which is firmly stuck between two strong opinions with the technical team and the operations team having widely disparate opinions. Googling furiously in the aftermath of the conversation, surfaced a tumblr post which shed light on the expression and the perspective of the person I was speaking with.
The second (screenshot above) was a Bluesky exchange around British slang of a London slant. “Bruv” and “oh my days” were specifically called out, with “bellend” following further down the exchange.
At first glance, these are all words/ collections of words which have meaning. Reflecting further though, it seems to me that (the choice) of words and their meanings can be a signpost of the underlying culture with layered meaning:
- What is the point of gendered (French) nouns?
- Is the British penchant for sparse language a result or the cause of the tight, upper lip?
- Is there a connection between bland, spartan food and language?
- What is one to make of Yoruba as a deeply poetic language?
There are of course many more questions one could ask. As a native (non) speaker of a language on the cusp of dying out, I can’t help but ponder.
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