Much later into the night, they could still be heard arguing. He shouted that she had "sventole" or "floppy ears" in Italian; she retaliated by saying his were "tapawising" or "pointed" in the lingo spoken by the Nicaraguans; we, far from the centre of the fight, just pointed to our mboboyo, which is how they refer to "sore ears" in the Congo. He said she was "poti", which of course we should be familiar with, given how it's an Indian word (okay, Tulu to be exact) meaning "a woman with a beard", and she retorted saying he was no Greek god himself, seeing how he had "mrongos", or "ugly protruding teeth", according to the Indonesians. We, meanwhile, just hoped that they'd quatre-vingt-huit (or "kiss", in French) and make up. |
Adam Jacot de Boinod seems to have been unemployed for a large part of his life, time he's spent ungainfully employed in collecting absurd, faintly useless words from languages around the world, some of which have then found their way into a collection that, in turn, is a laugh to read but difficult to use in the manner of a dictionary because nothing is chronologically listed. In the mad manner of his collection of mad words, he's simply put them together in little clusters, more to chuckle over than as serious reference. |
Sometimes that's useful, such as the Albanian reference to moustaches""apparently they have 27 descriptions for them, and though Boinod lists only a few of these, it's useful to know that while some colleagues sport a holl, which, contrary to how it sounds, refers to a "thin moustache", and others have a varur or drooping moustache, no one, it seems, has a kacadre or "moustache with turned-up ends". Of course, for the editor's French beard, the choice is somewhat unclear, with a choice between the ancient Greek hemigeneios or "only half a beard" and the Persian sim-zanakh implying "a silver chin". Far more erudite are the people of Papua New Guinea, who refer to a beard as gras bilong fes, which you, if an ardent SMSer, should have understood to mean "grass belonging to the face". |
For the record, therefore, Boinod's research has spanned 280 dictionaries and 140 websites for such gems as nakhur, a Persian expression that means "a camel that won't give milk until her nostrils have been tickled", which may not be as useful as the Inuit areodjarekput, meaning "to exchange wives for a few days only", implying a noble civility in the face of adversity. |
In these days of globalisation, Boinod's choice is particularly useful in matters corporate, when colleagues need to whisper behind each other's back about those that are happobijin or "sycophants" (according to the Japs), or vaseliners, which clearly indicates "flatterers" to the French. |
And, in case you need to confuse the poor junior whose appraisal you are writing, you could say he is given to echarse flores or "blowing his own trumpet" (in Spanish), has il ne se mouche pas du pied or "airs above his station" (in French), and tends to tirer la couverture a soi or "take all the credit" (also in French) presumably for a job well done. |
Or you might simply choose the Japanese expression, succinct but expressive: kingyo no funi, literally "goldfish crap". |
And if you're looking for the right expression while pulir hebillas or dancing close enough to "polish [your] belt buckles" according to the Central Americans, how about gazing deep into your loved one's eyes to whisper (in Japanese): "Rainen no kono hi mo issho ni waratteiyoh," which means a romantic "this time next year let's be laughing together". |
Just be careful she doesn't respond in French with "Jusqu a la Saint-Glinglin," or "never in a month of Sundays". Which just might leave you a vieux marcheur, "an elderly man who still chases women"... |
*Russian for dealer in stolen cats |
THE MEANING OF TINGO |
Adam jacot de Boinod Penguin/Reference Price: £7 Pages: 209 |