Posts in October 2009

Heading Into Town

Posted by Anna Ikeda
Oct
30
2009

The other day I was getting ready to go out and do some shopping, and because we live a bit outside the city center (ok, more than a bit, we live in the sticks) I said that I was going to town - do miasta. Idę do miasta. However, a friend who just happened to be visiting immediately corrected me that not “idę do miasta” but “idę na miasto”. Huh? And huh again?

Apparently there is a difference between those two. And apparently, I have been always using the wrong form.

But first things first. “Do” means “to”, and “na” means “on”, more or less and most of the time anyway.
So what’s the deal with “do miasta” and “na miasto”? I asked my friend to explain it to me using simple and easy to understand words, but even though she was the one who pointed out my incorrect usage, she was unable to actually articulate the difference. But that’s the Polish language for you. Nothing new here. We pride ourselves on being able to speak such a difficult language, but when it comes to explaining the finer points of this language we draw a blank.

So, I started to google, because I was sure that some learned person (with a PhD in Polish, no doubt) out there would know how to explain the difference between “do miasta” and “na miasto”. And what did I find?

The difference is there indeed, and it’s really simple. (Oh yeah, if it’s that simple how come I never figured it myself huh?)

So, you say “idę do miasta” if you are out of town and actually heading into town.
And you say “idę na miasto” if you are actually in town (as in: you live there) and are leaving your house (apartment, hotel room, whatever) to wander around a bit.

Simple? Maybe. If it were up to me, I’d get rid of the “na miasto” version, because it just rubs me the wrong way. Or maybe I’m simply jealous of people who actually live in the city and don’t have to go into town?

 
Posted under Polish Language
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Poles and kombinowanie

Posted by Anna Ikeda
Oct
27
2009

Today we will tackle something that is a bit controversial. Or maybe not, I guess it all depends on your point of view. But we’ll see.

I really don’t like sweeping generalizations, though that doesn’t stop me in making them myself from time to time, to be perfectly honest. So most of the time when I hear such a general comment, I just take it with a grain of salt. But when those sweeping generalizations begin to include me, well, that’s a whole another story. It’s personal then, and for me that’s when the gloves come off.

But yeah, what kind of generalizations are we talking about here? You know, those broad comments that encompass perhaps an entire nation or an ethic group, like that the French are generally rude (not true) and the Americans fat (again, not true). So why am I getting all worked up about it today? Somebody has told me recently, and to my face no less, that Poles are a conniving, dishonest bunch that can’t be trusted. As a proof of those national characteristics, the person used the famous Polish art (or is it a skill?) of kombinowanie.

Now, I know those comments have been around for centuries, and I know that Poles made kombinowanie into a whole new art form in its own right (that much is true), but when someone says it to my face, that makes it personal.

And personally, some of the most dishonest and untrustworthy people I’ve met in my life were single males between the ages of 22 and 32, university educated, no less. Does that mean that I’m going to pass sweeping generalizations that all single males between the ages of 22 and 32 are dishonest pricks? Of course not. So it really bothers me when narrow-minded people apply such generalizations to whole nationalities and ethnic groups.

I explained as much to the person I was talking with, and his response was “but you guys (meaning Poles) have a bad reputation everywhere you go.”

Oh really? Is that true? Am I that out of touch with how the Polish people are perceived by foreigners?

And is “kombinowanie” really all that bad? I’m as good at it as the next Pole, and yet I’ve never used it for nefarious purposes. Quite the opposite in fact.

But what is that “kombinowanie” anyway?
Some of my fellow countrymen will tell you that it’s one Polish word that can’t be translated into English. I disagree. It can be translated, but how you do it depends on the context.

The verb “kombinować” can mean many things. It can be used as in “to scheme”, “to fix”, “to sort out”, “to arrange” and so on. You get the idea. Nothing wrong with a little “kombinowanie” itself, it’s why you want to kombinować that might be perceived as less than honest by some people.

So yeah, we are the masters of kombinowanie, but does that immediately mean we are dishonest and untrustworthy as a nation?
Your opinions please. Honest opinions, of course.

PS. I apologize for the recent lack of comments from me, but we’re moving again and have internet issues.

 
Posted under Culture, Vocabulary
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Kapuśniak - Cabbage Soup

Posted by Anna Ikeda
Oct
24
2009

There are many definitions and examples of comfort food – I’m pretty sure that every culture has its very own typical dishes that fall into this category. And one thing is certain, when you’re sick you crave that yummy, comforting goodness. And I am and I do. But what do I crave? Kapuśniak (cabbage soup).

Now, maybe not exactly your typical Polish comfort food (but what would be? Schabowy and potatoes plus surówka?) but kapuśniak is what I want to eat whenever I am sick.

The only problem is that I can’t make a really good cabbage soup if my life depended on it. Why? First there’s this issue of whether to use fresh cabbage (świeża) or sauerkraut (kiszona). I like my kapuśniak sour, but not too sour. So what are the correct fresh/sour proportions? And second, what about the soup base? Mine never tastes like it should. It always has that “nouvelle” air to it instead of an honest, hearty and satisfying down to earth kapuśniak flavor.

My dad makes the best kapuśniak on the planet and I love it, even though he likes his with fresh cabbage. However, I have never mastered this kapuśniak making skill and hence I am stuck with improvising whenever I feel like eating a bowl of cabbagey goodness.

And to be completely honest, I’ve had no idea that cabbage soup is (was?) one of those newfangled weight loss fads. Really? We, Poles have been eating it for at least a thousand years, so it’s nice to see the rest of the world catching up.

OK, but back to the original question. How to make my kapuśniak taste right the Polish way? Because right now, I make it somewhat like this:

  • shred a bunch of cabbage
  • open a jar of sauerkraut
  • cut up some veggies
  • get a couple of those bullion cube thingies or a can of ready-made consommé (I’m not the patient type to boil some bones for soup stock)
  • some bacon and a couple of bratwursts
  • random seasonings and spices (read: whatever’s available)

It’s still good and quite tasty, but nothing like my dad used to make.
So, how do you make your kapuśniak?

PS. And by the way, how does this old saying go? Po kapuście d..pa chluszcze. (something like: after eating cabbage soup, stuff spouts from your behind, except that it vaguely rhymes in Polish), so be careful. And the d-word is considered vulgar, so there.

 
Posted under Culture
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Readers Ask - I Answer: Counting Things in Polish

Posted by Anna Ikeda
Oct
22
2009

I was going to stay in bed and marinate under the covers for one more day (yes, my cold has morphed into a full-blown bronchitis now) but a reader’s email made me crawl out to face the enemy. The email had that panicky and ominous tone making it sound as if the intergalactic victory of good over evil (read: Polish grammar) depended solely on me.

So here I am, at your service.

What the reader wanted was this: please tell me how to count (in Polish, of course) the following nouns: dziecko (child, neuter), nauczycielka (teacher, female), pisarz (writer, masculine), jesień (autumn, feminine), mysz (mouse, feminine), and słoń (elephant, masculine). Though I am not entirely sure if the reader wanted słoń (elephant) or słońce (sun), so just in case I think I’ll do both.

Initially, I wrote back and told him to look up my previous posts on this subject, but he responded that this is the time when grammar explanations are not enough, he needs to see how it’s actually done in practice. OK, fine by me. And actually, I just wanted to throw those words at you (all my readers in general) and see what you could come up with in terms of counting them from one to five. But since the email had the “the world is going to end on Thursday at 3PM if you don’t help me” tone, I thought I’d just get up and do it myself.

But why do I have this strange feeling that I’m doing somebody’s homework here, huh?

Ok, but here we go.

  • dziecko (child) from one to five:
  • jedno dziecko, dwoje dzieci, troje dzieci, czworo dzieci, pięcioro dzieci
  • nauczycielka (female teacher) from one to five:
  • jedna nauczycielka, dwie nauczycielki, trzy nauczycielki, cztery nauczycielki, pięć nauczycielek
  • pisarz (writer, male) from one to five:
  • jeden pisarz, dwóch pisarzy, trzech pisarzy, czterech pisarzy, pięciu pisarzy
  • jesień (fall/autumn, feminine) from one to five:
  • jedna jesień, dwie jesienie, trzy jesienie, cztery jesienie, pięć jesieni
  • mysz (mouse, feminine) from one to five (this is a tricky one and I hope I got it right):
  • jedna mysz, dwie myszy, trzy myszy, cztery myszy, pięć myszy
  • słoń (elephant, masculine) from one to five:
  • jeden słoń, dwa słonie, trzy słonie, cztery słonie, pięć słoni (and we have a whole circus!)
  • słońce (sun, neuter) from one to five:
  • jedno słońce, dwa słońca, trzy słońca, cztery słońca, pięć słońc

OK, dear reader, I hope this is what you had in mind. And I hope I managed before your doomsday deadline.

 
Posted under Grammar, Vocabulary
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Przeziębienie - a common cold strikes again

Posted by Anna Ikeda
Oct
18
2009

I’m so sorry this post is late, but I have a very good excuse – I’m sick. Totally and utterly sick. Not the new flu (thankfully), but the whole nine yards nevertheless: katar (runny nose), kaszel (cough), ból gardła (sore throat) and everything else that comes with it. In other words – przeziębienie (a common cold) at its finest.

I can’t eat much, can’t drink much (which is bad, I know, because the first treatment option for a cold is to hydrate the body as much as possible) and I am generally miserable.

But what can I do? This is the cold and flu season and we just need to get through it.
I’ve tried various remedies and nothing seems to work. And as my dad is fond of saying: katar leczony trwa siedem dni, nieleczony – tydzień (runny nose lasts 7 days if treated, and a week if not). And since I’m almost at the seven day mark, I hope I will get better soon.

And in the meantime, I can honestly say I did what I could. I tried czosnek (garlic), probably the most vile food I’ve ever met. I drank syrop z cebuli (onion juice), which along with garlic is something I don’t wish upon my worst enemies. I consumed copious amounts of sok pomarańczowy (orange juice), which did nothing but gave me acid reflux, and took more vitamins (witaminy) that has been clinically proven safe. And nothing.

I drank ziółka (herbal teas), ate rosół (chicken soup), snacked on grejpfrut (grapefruit), and felt like I was single handedly keeping the company that makes Fervex in business.

And I wasn’t a nice person to be around. But still, the doc said – nie ma gorączki, nie ma grypy (no fever, no flu) and I was felt to suffer all by myself.

I know it’s irrational to demand antybiotyki (antibiotics) for a common cold, but I just wanted to get something. Anything. Even if it technically shouldn’t work, because the placebo effect alone can do wonders for a tortured patient. But no such luck, unfortunately.

So now, if you excuse me, I have więcej ziółek (more herbal tea) to drink.

 
Posted under Vocabulary
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