Some things, like saudade, can't easily be translated. Other things translate fine, but just have a funny sound, depending on your perspective.
Think about passion fruit. It's called maracujá (ma.ɾa.ku.ˈʒa, or "mar-a-coo-JAH") in Portuguese. Its Portuguese name has the sound of a normal yet noble fruit--honest, faithful, tart. It's refreshing in juice form, and absolutely amazing in a mousse. But why passion fruit? Where is the passion? As tropical fruits go, it isn't one of the more sensual ones. Perhaps its exotic tang stirred up strong emotions in an explorer years ago. Or its zest somehow animates those who taste it without sugar, contorting their faces in ways that come across as an expression of great ire or ardor. But in actuality, it functions as a natural sedative. I know from personal experience drinking glass after glass (without sugar, because I'm weird) in my mother-in-law's house, and then conking out dead asleep on the sofa. It's a wonderful fruit, tasty, calming, and full of vitamin C, but, as far as I can see, there's no passion in it.
I was musing about this with my mother-in-law the other night as she was making juice, and it came to me--the passion of Christ. She had once explained that the fruit's flower is seen as a symbol. There are large petals that look like nails and almost form a cross-like shape. The fringe around the flower represents the crown of thorns that Jesus wore. The purple color is the royal robe placed on him in mockery, and the white petals at the bottom are the cloth he wore on the cross. I looked it up, and, it seems that missionaries to South America may have introduced this metaphor centuries ago. I admire the strength of this enduring symbol, woven together with deep faith, a plethora of knowledge of the natural world, and lots of wisdom, all rooted so deeply in my mother-in-law, a woman who never even had the opportunity to learn to read.
Another fun word, though less profound, is maxixe (maˈʃiːʃi or "mah-SHE-she"). It sounds like a dance, and looks like an alien. Or maybe like a little spiky ball that you might put with your clothes in a dryer to reduce static electricity. Or a poofy squeaky toy. Related to the cucumber, it doesn't have a lot of taste, but I love it when my mother-in-law cooks it in coconut milk. The contrast of the smooth texture and the little bumps is fun, and she always seasons it well. It makes me want to do a little dance.
I learned that maxixe actually is a dance while my husband started singing over his dinner the other night. Maxixe rhymes with sanduíche (sɐ̃.du.ˈi.ʃi or "sand-WEE-she"), the word for sandwich. And so, the maxixe dance is kind of like a tango with a dude sandwiched in between two women, reveling it up for Carnival.
Speaking of dance, xixi (ʃi'ʃi or "she-SHE") is the word for pee-pee, and in both languages this bodily function sounds so cute! I guess we make cute words to help kids learn to do it in the right place.
One time I was hanging out with my Brazilian-American friends, speaking a mix of English and Portuguese. Trying to excuse myself to the bathroom, I was debating whether to say the blunt American "I'm gonna pee," or something more polite in Portuguese. Instead, I accidentally scrambled my words and said, "Eu vou fazer sushi!" We all laughed till we cried at the gringa, back in Quincy, Massachusetts, darting off to the bathroom, announcing plans to make sushi.
Words can be sharp as a sword, but they can also be obtuse. Sometimes they fit in just the right way, but, when considered from another culture or language, they can be awkward.
Let's take the verb, ficar (fiˈkaɾ or "fee-CAR"). It means "to stay." Eu vou ficar na casa dos meus pais simply means "I'm going to stay in my parents' house." But when we say ficar com uma pessoa--"stay with a person," it means to spend time with someone, usually at a party, kissing and carressing, but not in a relationship.
The closest equivalent in English is perhaps "hook up," but, when used this way, it almost always means a casual sexual relationship, and that is not often the case when used in Portuguese. (Of course, hook up has other meanings in English that are very different. It can also mean to connect a machine or device, or to join or become associated with an organization. And when used with a pronoun in the middle--"hook me up," it's a slang expression asking someone to share something.)
Saying, "I stayed with that guy at the party," just doesn't work in English. But a young person saying, "We hooked up," is almost definitely sexual.
Why doesn't English have a word that means the same as ficar, without the sexual connotation? It must be a cultural difference. My theory is, that though people may do it--get together intimately, though not necessarily sexually, they aren't likely to go around talking about it, and so there isn't a word. Maybe you have a better theory. I'd be curious to hear it.
I'll end with my favorite expression in Portuguese. In English, we may say that an annoying or difficult person is "a lot to handle." In Portuguese, they are "a suitcase," or a mala (ma.la or "MAH-la"). When you think about it, a suitcase is sometimes a lot to handle. When it's "a suitcase without a handle," or mala sem alça, the person is even more difficult. But the most difficult of all is a mala sem alça, e sem rodinha--"a suitcase without a handle, and without wheels." What do you do with a suitcase when it comes off the plane like that? After filing a complaint with the airline, you find a way to deal with it. With great difficulty and frustration. But you manage to take it where it needs to go.
We all have to work with difficult people on occasion. However, as a teacher it's impossible to hide from challenging interpersonal situations, and I think it's for this reason I've always been amused at this expression. Of course, the majority of my students have been wonderful, but I've dealt with my share of malas over the years. A long time ago, when working as a caricature artist (a job where malas sem alça e sem rodinha appeared in long, drunken lines awaiting entertainment), I couldn't resist the urge to draw myself as a flight attendant, because, of course, I work with malas.
What is your favorite expression in your own or another language? What are some words that can't be translated? What words or expressions are just fun to say? I await your thoughts!
Think about passion fruit. It's called maracujá (ma.ɾa.ku.ˈʒa, or "mar-a-coo-JAH") in Portuguese. Its Portuguese name has the sound of a normal yet noble fruit--honest, faithful, tart. It's refreshing in juice form, and absolutely amazing in a mousse. But why passion fruit? Where is the passion? As tropical fruits go, it isn't one of the more sensual ones. Perhaps its exotic tang stirred up strong emotions in an explorer years ago. Or its zest somehow animates those who taste it without sugar, contorting their faces in ways that come across as an expression of great ire or ardor. But in actuality, it functions as a natural sedative. I know from personal experience drinking glass after glass (without sugar, because I'm weird) in my mother-in-law's house, and then conking out dead asleep on the sofa. It's a wonderful fruit, tasty, calming, and full of vitamin C, but, as far as I can see, there's no passion in it.
I was musing about this with my mother-in-law the other night as she was making juice, and it came to me--the passion of Christ. She had once explained that the fruit's flower is seen as a symbol. There are large petals that look like nails and almost form a cross-like shape. The fringe around the flower represents the crown of thorns that Jesus wore. The purple color is the royal robe placed on him in mockery, and the white petals at the bottom are the cloth he wore on the cross. I looked it up, and, it seems that missionaries to South America may have introduced this metaphor centuries ago. I admire the strength of this enduring symbol, woven together with deep faith, a plethora of knowledge of the natural world, and lots of wisdom, all rooted so deeply in my mother-in-law, a woman who never even had the opportunity to learn to read.
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| Photo by Washington Wagner de Campos (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons |
Another fun word, though less profound, is maxixe (maˈʃiːʃi or "mah-SHE-she"). It sounds like a dance, and looks like an alien. Or maybe like a little spiky ball that you might put with your clothes in a dryer to reduce static electricity. Or a poofy squeaky toy. Related to the cucumber, it doesn't have a lot of taste, but I love it when my mother-in-law cooks it in coconut milk. The contrast of the smooth texture and the little bumps is fun, and she always seasons it well. It makes me want to do a little dance.
I learned that maxixe actually is a dance while my husband started singing over his dinner the other night. Maxixe rhymes with sanduíche (sɐ̃.du.ˈi.ʃi or "sand-WEE-she"), the word for sandwich. And so, the maxixe dance is kind of like a tango with a dude sandwiched in between two women, reveling it up for Carnival.
Speaking of dance, xixi (ʃi'ʃi or "she-SHE") is the word for pee-pee, and in both languages this bodily function sounds so cute! I guess we make cute words to help kids learn to do it in the right place.
One time I was hanging out with my Brazilian-American friends, speaking a mix of English and Portuguese. Trying to excuse myself to the bathroom, I was debating whether to say the blunt American "I'm gonna pee," or something more polite in Portuguese. Instead, I accidentally scrambled my words and said, "Eu vou fazer sushi!" We all laughed till we cried at the gringa, back in Quincy, Massachusetts, darting off to the bathroom, announcing plans to make sushi.
Words can be sharp as a sword, but they can also be obtuse. Sometimes they fit in just the right way, but, when considered from another culture or language, they can be awkward.
Let's take the verb, ficar (fiˈkaɾ or "fee-CAR"). It means "to stay." Eu vou ficar na casa dos meus pais simply means "I'm going to stay in my parents' house." But when we say ficar com uma pessoa--"stay with a person," it means to spend time with someone, usually at a party, kissing and carressing, but not in a relationship.
The closest equivalent in English is perhaps "hook up," but, when used this way, it almost always means a casual sexual relationship, and that is not often the case when used in Portuguese. (Of course, hook up has other meanings in English that are very different. It can also mean to connect a machine or device, or to join or become associated with an organization. And when used with a pronoun in the middle--"hook me up," it's a slang expression asking someone to share something.)
Saying, "I stayed with that guy at the party," just doesn't work in English. But a young person saying, "We hooked up," is almost definitely sexual.
Why doesn't English have a word that means the same as ficar, without the sexual connotation? It must be a cultural difference. My theory is, that though people may do it--get together intimately, though not necessarily sexually, they aren't likely to go around talking about it, and so there isn't a word. Maybe you have a better theory. I'd be curious to hear it.
I'll end with my favorite expression in Portuguese. In English, we may say that an annoying or difficult person is "a lot to handle." In Portuguese, they are "a suitcase," or a mala (ma.la or "MAH-la"). When you think about it, a suitcase is sometimes a lot to handle. When it's "a suitcase without a handle," or mala sem alça, the person is even more difficult. But the most difficult of all is a mala sem alça, e sem rodinha--"a suitcase without a handle, and without wheels." What do you do with a suitcase when it comes off the plane like that? After filing a complaint with the airline, you find a way to deal with it. With great difficulty and frustration. But you manage to take it where it needs to go.
We all have to work with difficult people on occasion. However, as a teacher it's impossible to hide from challenging interpersonal situations, and I think it's for this reason I've always been amused at this expression. Of course, the majority of my students have been wonderful, but I've dealt with my share of malas over the years. A long time ago, when working as a caricature artist (a job where malas sem alça e sem rodinha appeared in long, drunken lines awaiting entertainment), I couldn't resist the urge to draw myself as a flight attendant, because, of course, I work with malas.
What is your favorite expression in your own or another language? What are some words that can't be translated? What words or expressions are just fun to say? I await your thoughts!
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