Separated by a Common Language: Orcadian Dialect Edition, Part 5

In years past, I've posted not once, but twice, the words from the entire season(s) of BBC Radio Orkney's Orcadian dialect word game, Whassigo. I'm at it again, despite a shorter season during the 2016/'17 season (owing in part to some staffing disruptions at Castle Street during the Spring of 2017, the April 2017 episode seems to have been lost to history). I'm once again late in posting them, having originally intended to do so in April or May of this year; however, as I've been rather busy this year, and I got to it earlier than I did in 2016, so I'm not apologizing!

I'm not sure if this is a constant, but I've now been following the program long enough to have caught the quiz master, Orkney Islands Councillor Harvey Johnston... REUSING WORDS FROM PRIOR SEASONS! (Cue dramatic music.) This included the word "skiggan" (Norse for clear, transparent, bright, and clean) in both February 2015 and April 2016; "skreeo" (from the Old Norse for a shriveled, dessicated person or beast) in December 2016 and in October of 2017; and "rammelgoforth" (a rash and hurried person) in April 2015 and October 2017. Scandalous! A modest proposal: the august Mr. Johnston should consult the 1866 Etymological Glossary of the Shetland & Orkney Dialect to keep things fresh. And now, without further delay... The words!

October 2016

"snoddy" - a thick cake of oatmeal (from Old Norse for a lump of dough)

"misleared" - to be misguided

"planker" - laying out land after the end of the runrig system

"streelka" - a notion

"russey imp" - a cord made from a mare's tail hair

"cowtheist" - Scots word for being friendly

November 2016

"cooter" - the end of a plough that digs into the ground

"frugsy" - untidy or messy

"fimro" - a peedie crab that runs about, related to a Norse word meaning "quick"

"tusky" - Old Norse word for stormy, foul weather

"sarro" - excrement, otherwise unpalatable food

"grunyasie" - ugly, from a Norse word meaning the snout of a pig

"December" 2016

"skreeo" - a shriveled, dessicated person or beast, from the Old Norse

"parago" - wool of a mixture of different colors; a known term among Westray and Sanday knitting circles

"rillagory" - speaking carelessly or gossiping

"oonwandin" - something no one expects, such as the Spanish Inquisition

"charve" - to be headstrong, bold, or audacious, recently commonly used in Rousay, from the Old Norse word "jarfer" (sp?)

"peese" - a line to please or pester

February 2017

"kammo" - a knock on the head

"ongelid" - a strong gale, from Norse "ang" (against)

"kulkie" - the horizon

"simmy" - to wander about aimlessly, wasting time; to "simmy about"

"camsho" - a rude, ill-tempered person

"baileyment" - a state of prosperity or vigor

March 2017

"swarf" - to overturn or capsize

"tivish" - to handle someone in a rough manner

"swarral" - a large, inanimate object ("But not a coo, unless it's dead.")

"klimse" - being so dehydrated you can hardly speak, from a Norse word meaning "to be rendered speechless"

"muller" - a pebbly beach

Separated by a Common Language: Orcadian Dialect Edition, Part 4

Last year, I posted an entire season worth of Whassigo words from the beloved Orkney evening program(me). Many months late, I'm at it again with the words from the '15/'16 Whassigo season. This time, I kept track of the words as the episodes were released during BBC Radio Orkney's winter season, but I'm extremely late in posting them - as evidenced by the fact that there have already been three installments this season. And so, this latest edition of Separated by a Common Language.

October 2015

"koosed" - to exchange, swap, or barter

"hoolican" - a shaggy, repulsive sheep

"bayow" - a primitive scythe

"nutheran" - humming or singing

"tyno" - rod or wire for drying fish

"tribble" - to touch things with one's fingers; to grope

November 2015

"letto" - an insignificant item of very little value

"karr" - a big, strong man

"millens" - particulate or fine bits of stoor, e.g., in the bottom of a purse or handbag

"scumfaced" - old Scots word meaning disgusted, related to scunnard (scunnered?)

"snellie" - a coot (bird?), e.g., a mark that looks like it was made by a snail

"ill-fossered" - untidy or slovenly

December 2015

"dagsy" - a bow-legged person

"noler" - a snub (Scottish in origin)

"feich" - an old Norse word meaning expression of disgust, particularly at a bad smell

"gramowrie" - a witch's power, old Scots word derived from French

"irpid" - from a Faroese word meaning spiteful or cantankerous

"yam" - an old type of Orkney potato

January 2016

"transeerin" - a serious fall from a horse

"droose" - a Sanday word meaning to rush forth, originally Norwegian

"gamsmyre" - total chaos or pandaemonium

"lowter" - a lump of gutter

"nowtan" - muttering in an ill-tempered manner, growling or grumbling

"pilk" - a small, light-built boy

February 2016

"ab" - a hindrance or impediment

"nivvle" - an old Norse word meaning to grip something hard

"skarps" - a patch of poor, rocky ground

"raam" - someone who is speaking nonsense or rambling incoherently

"koofie" - a shellfish, particularly large breeds of clam

"lovanentie" - an exclamation equivalent to "mercy me", corrupted from the phrase "Lord, defend me"

March 2016

"skelly-wheeter" - an emaciated beast

"toosy" - a state of dishevelment

"slunky" - a word describing a long and lean person

"maelskorn" - a light, unsatisfying meal

"metting" - a single ear of corn; a handful or small amount of anything precious; a tea leaf

"krammy" - heavy, drizzly weather

"koukan" - swallowing greedily, from an old Norse word

"April" 2016

"clivvo" - a steep road with high banks on the side

"skiggan" - from the Norse "skiggar", meaning bright and clean (repeat from February 2015)

"loba" - old, coarse grass on bog land

"drush" - a great number/amount of something

"kony" - strong vegetation, e.g., for making a basket or rope

"haffhand" - a concubine or mistress

I'll try to make sure that the next installment of this particular series gets posted in April of May of 2017, rather than December. Many apologies!

Separated by a Common Language: Orcadian Dialect Edition, Part 3

Earlier this year, I posted about Northern Isles evening radio programs. Once BBC Radio Orkney's Winter program season came to a close, I - no joke - went back through the six installments of Whassigo, recorded every word and its definition, and present them now in this latest edition of Separated by a Common Language.

November 2014

dillo - A small area of cultivated ground.

geskafoo - Pleasant in manner; old Norse for "full of pleasantness".

pulty - A short, stout person (or, to be short and stout), from the Norse "bult".

blooro - A passionate argument that could degenerate into a melee.

skafal - A shapely, well-built person (particularly in the face).

stram - A state of excitement.

December 2014

chiggo - A well-built lass.

favillo - An idle, lazy person.

stunky - Slow-witted or stupid; also, a person who is not taking part in festivities.

limiter - A lame animal.

mittle - A serious injury, or to be "seriously mittled".

skint - An admonition to hurry up, from the Norse "skynda", "to hasten".

peltrie - A group of unwanted visitors.

January 2015

sugg - A patch of hard skin on the hand (like a callus).

hingle - A bracket that holds a lamp.

jimp - A bit short, e.g., sparing or economical.

fest - To tether an animal, particularly in a field with a stake.

veeze - To grab something tightly.

skate-rumple - An inhabitant of Deerness.

February 2015

ligny - A calm spot on the sea caused by an oil slick.

sivvet - Birsay word meaning a blow or a smack.

pangse - To walk as if walking through deep snow.

lotherfoo - Peaceful and amiable.

skiggan - Norse for clear, transparent, bright, and clean.

bugget - A large, clumsy person, from the old Norse "bugge".

April 2015

darrowas - Rousay word for a good scolding.

baiver - To be blown about or struggling against the wind (Danish-Norse).

rink - A twist in one's neck.

dabal - A piece of wet land.

griminagerous - Hideous (referring to facial features).

rammelgoforth - A rash and hurried person.

April 2015 #2

simean - Putting on aires or graces.

tud - A Marwick word meaning sudden changes in air pressure resulting from gales

glinted - Lightheaded, flirtatious, frolicksome.

vansome - A Norn word describing someone who is difficult to please and/or deal with.

varless - Awkward or clumsy in gait or movement.

boonie - A farmer.

I'd be really tempted to use flash cards to memorize these and previous Whassigo words if I weren't reasonably sure that most Orcadians wouldn't actually recognize any of these words if they were to hear them in conversation!

Separated by a Common Language: Competing Heads of State

I was in Aberdeen in December of 2012 when the Sandy Hook shootings took place in Newtown, Connecticut. In fact, I not-so-fondly remember being lectured about Canada's sensible gun control by CN Slapshot after we went as a group to see the first Hobbit film. Anyway, I'll leave politics aside. While I was in Scotland, a lot of political posturing took place in which the White House was pushing for tighter gun control, and Republicans were resisting it. According to the folks at Know Your meme:

During an interview with New Republic on January 27th, 2013, President Obama was asked if he had ever fired a gun, to which he answered that he goes skeet shooting at Camp David frequently. Four days later, the Washington Post’s Fact Checker began investigating these claims and noted that it could not find any proof of Obama having participated in skeet shooting. In response to this criticism, the White House released an official photograph of the President skeet shooting at Camp David via their official Flickr account on February 2nd, 2013, along with a caption requesting that the photograph not be manipulated in any way.

One of my favorites was this image, in which President Obama with a shotgun is juxtaposed against a photo of Queen Elizabeth II firing an SA80 infantry rifle. Many Americans will recognize Her Majesty's comment as a derisive jab at President Obama. Shortly before I left Scotland in late 2013, I was in The Director's office with him and Critical Mass, and for the life of me, I could not convey to either of them what the context of that particular comment. They thought it was meant to deride Queen Elizabeth II by referring to her with an indelicate moniker. Both of them were fairly critical of President Obama - The Director once referred to President Obama as "strategically illiterate" - and I'm confident that, had I been able to get the joke across, they probably would have been fairly amused. As such, it was unfortunate that they were unable to enjoy the joke because we were separated by a common language.

Separated by a Common Language: Orcadian Dialect Edition, Part 2

Last month, I posted about the Orcadian dialect. I've identified a few more words as I've been out and around, plus I caught one more edition of Whassigo, so all of those words are included as well.

"bruck" - Junk. BBC Radio Orkney has a weekly Bruck Program in which people can submit requests for things they're trying to get rid of, or else requests for things they're trying to get a hold of.

"fleero" (W) - A piece of lightweight material (e.g. clothing) that provides little protection from the elements.

"girn" - The outro to the weekly BBC Radio Orkney Postbag program mentions that you can write in if you want to "moan, pleap, or girn". "Girn" means to cry (as in, tears), or else to greet.

"gansey" - A sweater. According to Gray 2, it's apparently derived from the word "jersey", which itself refers to sweaters from the island of Jersey.

"kalwart" (W) - A spell of cold weather.

"kamo" (W) - A blow to the head.

"mind" - To remember. For example, if you lost something - say, perhaps, your favorite gansey - you'd say "I can't mind where my favorite gansey is." At that point, you might begin to gairn or pleap, which leads me to...

"pleep" - As noted previously, the outro to the weekly BBC Radio Orkney Postbag program mentions that you can write in if you want to "moan, pleep, or girn". "Pleep" means "whine" or "complain".

"skarps" (W) - Worthless land on which no crops can be grown, for example, with very little topsoil.

"sweenkie" (W) - An earthworm.

"wanboona" (W) - A curse, e.g. from a mythical character. Apparently Faroese in origin.

"yagger" (W) - A peddler or seller, someone who sells you stuff, such as bruck or (apparently) fish. Apparently Dutch in origin.

So, can you speak like an Orcadian yet? No? Well, keep workin' on it.

Separated by a Common Language: Orcadian Dialect Edition

As I've noted previously, folk in the United States are separated from folk in the United Kingdom by a common language. Within the United Kingdom, you have regional dialects that separate UK citizens/residents from one another. One of the most entertaining of these is the Orcadian dialect.

As I mentioned yesterday, I was on the radio a couple of weeks ago to inform Orcadians about what I've unofficially dubbed the "Orcadian Gordon Highlanders Accountability Project". Several people back in the States listened to the program via the Listen Again function, and essentially all of them remarked about the accents of both the woman who introduced my segment, and the guy who interviewed me. Lady Jaye couldn't understand a word either of them said, and Windshield Ninja said she loved the musical quality of the woman's voice, but could only understand about eighty percent of what she was saying by concentrating really hard. I've spoken to several people (including Gus, who thinks he knows everything) who figured it was just Doric, but I've mentioned it to folk who actually speak Doric, and it's not Doric. Doric is different.

I sort of accidentally familiarized myself with the Orcadian Dialect by reading Alex Leonard's comic, The Giddy Limit, in which four of the five principal characters speak in a phoneticized Orcadian dialect, with the fifth character (the wife/mother, Liz, being regularly confused by both Orcadian speech and local customs). A little over a year ago, while chatting with Gray 2, I stopped her and remarked about how, if I hadn't gone through all of those comics, I'd have been completely confused by what she was saying.

On Wednesday night, and apparently on a regular basis, Radio Orkney features a program called Whassigo, which the BBC Radio Scotland website describes as an "Orcadian version of Call My Bluff". If you're reading this before 06 November 2013, you can listen to the program here. I picked up a number of other words from the Orcadian dialect that aren't really in common usage, but the show was pretty entertaining.

So, what are some of the words I've picked up over the years? The ones I picked up on the Whassigo program are marked with "(W)", and the rest aren't.

"bairn" - Child.

"beuy" - Probably derived from "boy", it's sort of the Orcadian equivalent of "dude", used mostly by older Orcadians.

"disnae" - Doesn't. In fact, "nae" is "not" - disnae, wasnae, cannae.

"fae" - From.

"gemple" (W) - A person who handles situations with grace and dexterity, remaining calm and sorting things out in a seemingly effortless manner.

"glet" (W) - A bright patch in the sky during a storm.

"gushel" (W) - Someone who's walking with a limp.

"gussel" (W) - A wind that keeps blowing, and blowing, and blowing... And blowing.

"heuved" (W) - To be swollen from the inside, e.g. from eating too much. This one is allegedly Old Norse, tracing back to Orkney's viking heritage.

"ken" - To know - as in, "Yes, I ken, but I'm nae gonna to tell ye." If you say "kent", it's the equivalent of "knew" - as in, "Yes, I kent, but I wasn'a gonna tell ye."

"luridan" (W) - A mythical spirit who cleans your house for you, also apparently referred to as a "broonie".

"mimp" (W) - To chant.

"nae bother" - "No bother" or "no problem", Orcadians essentially substitute this for "you're welcome".

"peedie" - Small.

"smooring" - Blowing, referring to weather. "There's a storm smooring in from the East."

"tatties" - Potatoes. As I'll note in an upcoming post, Orcadians love potatoes. This one isn't particularly Orcadian, as I frequently ate mince and tattie pies down in Aberdeen, but Orcadians never seem to talk about potatoes, it's always tatties.

"wit like/what like" - Similar to the Scottish/Doric "fit like", it's the equivalent of "how are you" or "what's happenin'?"

So now, if you show up in Orkney, you'll be able to make out some of what they're saying. Take it from me, it requires a bit of practice, and it's much tougher on the telephone.

Separated by a Common Language: Part 2

Following up on one of my early posts, here's another edition of more words that cause confusion by being different from the words we use in the States.

"boot and bonnet" - The "boot" of a car is its trunk, and the "bonnet" of a car is its hood. Something you'll see advertised over here is a "car boot sale", which is like a rummage sale or flea market.

"casualty" - The emergency room at a hospital is called "casualty". They also use the word "hospital" slightly differently - not the word itself, but the syntax involved in discussing it. Perhaps the best example is that one goes to hospital, not to the hospital; someone is in hospital, not in the hospital.

"chemist" - A chemist is a pharmacy, or maybe more accurately what we'd call a drug store. It always reminds me of the Apothecary in Romeo and Juliet.

"chips" - "Chips", in British vernacular, are what Americans would call "fries". What Americans would call "chips", Brits call "crisps".

"college/university" - In America, we tend to use the word "college" a lot more frequently. Here in the United Kingdom, "college" is different from "university". I think the easiest way to explain it would be to say that in the United Kingdom, "college" is about the equivalent of what Americans would call "community college" or "trade school". It's much more vocational than the concept of "college" in American parlance. By comparison, "university" in British vernacular is pretty much exactly equivalent to what Americans would refer to interchangeably as "college" or "university", with an American "university" being a large college, or a major state college, or perhaps a college that includes research and postgraduate programs.

"dual carriageway" - A dual carriageway is what Americans would refer to as a "four lane highway" - it's a street or road with multiple lanes going in the same direction. In conversation, CN Chatti has occasionally judged locations based upon whether or not they had any dual carriageways.

"hamper" - Several times, particularly during the Christmas season, I was offered several chances to enter my name into a drawing for a "hamper". I finally figured out that they were talking about a gift basket.

"industrial estate" - I'm not sure that we really have an equivalent to this in the American dialect, other than maybe an "industrial park". It's an area that's sort of zoned for business or industry, but maybe not so much in a retail sense of those words.

"inverted commas" - For some reason, the Brits (or at least the Scots) call quotation marks "inverted commas".

"invigilator" - You might think that an "invigilator" sounds like someone who's going to disembowel you. In fact, it's the word for "proctor" - someone who supervises students while they're sitting for an exam.

"revision" - The Brits call review, as in reviewing for an exam, "revision". It drives me absolutely crazy.

"paper round" - Paper route.

"scheme" - Programs, and particularly government programs, are referred to as "scheme". For example, the government might have an "employment scheme" or a "housing scheme". This is sort of unsettling for me, as "scheme" tends to have a negative, almost conspiratorial context in the American vernacular.

"lie in" - In the United Kingdom, if you sleep late, you're "having a lie in" - it's basically the equivalent of sleeping in.

"sick" - Vomit. This works in a couple of different contexts. For example, if you've just vomited, you'd say, "I've just been sick", not "I just puked my guts out". If you're holding a baby and it vomits on you, you might say, "I've got baby sick on my shirt".

I realize that it's basically been six months since I did one of these, and I'll try to do at least one more before I leave. I'm probably getting used to a lot of the linguistic nuances, so it may be more difficult, but it's worth the effort. I'll admit, the accents still give me some trouble every now and again - probably moreso than the words themselves.

Separated by a Common Language: Part 1

"England and America are two countries separated by a common language."
- George Bernard Shaw

One of the fascinating things about living and studying abroad, particularly in an Anglophone location, is the ability to compare and contrast seemingly arbitrary differences in dialects of the English language. Put simply, this new feature on the Operation Highlander blog will showcase some of the words I encounter that are different in the dialects of the United Kingdom than they are in the American dialect. Here's the first batch.

"body polisher" - In some American usage, this might actually sound kind of sordid. In fact, a "body polisher" is what Americans would probably call a "shower sponge".

"chemist" - I'm sure "chemist" means "chemist" in some UK usage, but in the most frequent context, it means "pharmacy" or "drug store". I can't help but be reminded of the apothecary in Romeo and Juliet.

"digs" - Lodgings. I'd be fascinated to learn what the origin of this term is. Everyone is also fairly fond of using the word "accommodation" to refer to where you live - "Where's your accommodation?" and such.

"hire" - To rent. For example, I'll likely be dealing with Orkney Car Hire in a few weeks.

"mobile" - "Mobile", which is actually picking up usage in the States, is our equivalent to "cell", as in a telephone you carry with you wherever you go. Oddly enough, it was my time in the United Kingdom in 2004 that acquainted me with the phenomenon of texting, which hadn't really caught on in general American society at that point.

"pavement" - Sidewalk.

"shop/store" - In the States, most people would say "store", but here they say "shop". One of the examples of this that I found quite amusing was the difference on my American and British Android phones, one of which has the Google "Play Store", and the other of which has the Google "Play Shop".

"surgical spirit" - I'm assuming that this is the UK equivalent of rubbing alcohol. I went into Boots last week and asked a lovely young blonde for rubbing alcohol, and this is what we came up with. I have yet to use it, so I have yet to find out.

"takeaway" - A takeaway is basically any restaurant whose primary purpose is providing food for patrons to collect and take home with them. Some of these establishments have seating so that patrons can eat there, but not much. One would get their food "from a takeaway", while one might put on weight from "eating too many takeaways".

"toilet" - This one has always been a challenge for me, because in American English, "toilet" tends to have sort of a dirty connotation. Meanwhile, in UK English, the word refers to what we in the States would call the "rest room" or "bathroom". I prefer to use an alternative British word and phrase - "I need the loo" - when letting people know why I'll be absent for the next couple of minutes.

That's it for now!

The Gear: Overcoming Kindle Fire Challenges

I bought my Kindle Fire with two functionality expectations:

#1: That I would be able to buy some of my books on it, thus saving me hassle and back ache.
#2: That I would be able to use the wireless functionality to supplement my laptop both in my residence and on campus.

One out of two ain't bad, right?

So, the University's Internet provision is all routed through a proxy server. Beyond playing a bit of havoc with the security software on my laptop, this presents a problem, as the Kindle Fire provides no support for proxy servers. There's apparently a roundabout way of making it work, but it's probably not worth the effort.

So, what we do when we encounter a hiccough? Simple: we adapt and overcome.

My Kindle can connect to the wifi at Starbucks (and I can also download the virus definition updates for my laptop there as well), so if I head in for a cuppa or some weird sandwich thing, I can download whatever books I may need - in addition, of course, to those I already picked up when I was back in the States. The Union Square mall - which, coincidentally, is within spitting distance of the Northlink Ferries terminal that will take me to Orkney in a matter of weeks - has a Starbucks, as well as several other shops of one use or another*, plus a bus station that can get me back to my digs when I'm done.

Two of the things I intend to study on a weekly basis are physical security, and Arabic language. Once I've finished with The Design and Evaluation of Physical Protection Systems, I'll move on to the US Army's FM 3-19.30 and ATTP 3-39.32. So, I downloaded those yesterday at Starbucks. I also downloaded the zipped PDF of the Defense Language Institute's Libyan Basic Language Survival Kit. Unfortunately, the Kindle Fire doesn't provide any automatic provision for unzipping files. Fortunately, a right smart bloke like myself can find the PDF, unzipped, at another website. So, now I have the three documents I'll need to start being effective at several of my goals, without having to lug my laptop all the way to campus in order to study all of it.

Adapt and overcome, friends. Adapt and overcome. And, let's be honest, it would be great if the Kindle Fire came with proxy support, but as far as I'm concerned, it's the University's system that's at issue, rather than the Kindle.

Right, then, back to work.

* One such shop is Boots, the chemist (pharmacy/drug store) that appears to be Aberdeen's leading employer of fit birds (attractive young women). On that note, I'm going to introduce another feature on the blog, entitled "Separated by a Common Language", in which I'll note differences in speech between Americans, Brits, and - as necessary - Scots.