Posts tagged w/ expressions

Useful Expressions - Spoko, spoko

Posted by Anna Ikeda

A friend asked me a very theoretical question, and it went more or less like this:
“OK, let’s say that, theoretically of course, I am going to be visiting Poland around Christmas, or at the very least - Greenpoint. What Polish words would I hear most frequently?”

“Oh, you mean like the k-word?” was my reply.
“No, not really, I mean like words that you can actually spell out on your blog without getting in trouble.”

Ahhhh… OK, let me think then…

Hmmm… so if you just happen to be listening to random people’s random conversations, what would you hear most often? (Apart from all the words that Poles are seemingly very fond of using and which I can’t include in here.)

There’s always “cześć” – the universal Polish greeting when “dzień dobry” seems too official.
There are always “Pan” and “Pani”, as in “Panie Waldku” and “Pani Aniu”, etc… that’s how we tend to address each other when using first names only seems either too rude or too familiar.

And then there’s “spoko, spoko”. I have to confess, I like “spoko, spoko” and use it a lot. Maybe even too much, according to some people.

So, what is “spoko, spoko”?
Spoko is shortened version of “spokojnie” when used to calm someone down, as in “it’s OK”, “it’s all right”, or even “take it easy.”
Spokojnie itself is an adverb and means “calmly”, “quietly” and so on, you get the idea. The adjective it came from is “spokojny” and here it is in all its glorious forms:

  • spokojny (adj., fem: spokojna, neuter: spokojne, plural personal masculine: spokojni, plural all others: spokojne) – calm, quiet, unhurried.

And sometime along the way “spokojnie” got shortened to “spoko” and then repeated twice for emphasis – “spoko, spoko”.

As in:

    Spóźnimy się! – We’ll be late!
    Spoko, spoko, zdążymy. – take it easy, we’ll make it (on time).

And that’s pretty much what “spoko, spoko” is all about.

So, what other most often heard words and phrases do you think should be included?

 

Heading Into Town

Posted by Anna Ikeda

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?

 

Nobody Knows Anything

Posted by Anna Ikeda

Yesterday (Friday) morning we were slowly making our way towards Port Lotniczy im. Lecha Wałęsy aka the airport in Gdańsk. Slowly, because whenever we were there early and on time, my flight was always late. So, no need to hurry.

When we got closer to the airport we could see that something was not right. There was straż pożarna (fire brigade) and karetka (ambulance) with all lights flashing. There was also a rapidly growing traffic jam - thanks to a police car and an officer whose orders apparently only included “don’t let anyone drive in” but no suggestion as to where the backed up traffic should go.

We made an illegal u-turn and drove into the short-term parking lot from the side.

There was a sizeable crowd of people in front of the terminal and an even bigger crowd inside. The entire check-in area had been cordoned off and three uniformed guys stood there making sure that nobody got through.

From time to time a bored-looking uniformed person would walk across the blocked off area and from time to time the three uniformed guys’ walkie-talkie thingies would make noise. I could overhear parts of the conversation:

Tak, z salami.” (yes, with salami)
Walkie-talkie making noise.
“Nie, bez cebuli.” (no, without onion)
Walkie-talkie making more noise.
“No taka normalna pizza. Tak, z pieczarkami.” (Just a normal pizza. Yes, with mushrooms)
Walkie-talkie making more noise and then going silent.

Hmmm… somebody was apparently ordering lunch. Other than that, there was no visible activity.

“Przepraszam, wie pan co się dzieje?” (Excuse me, do you know what’s going on? - when asked to a man) I finally decided to ask another person in the crowd, a man, who looked like he’d been waiting there for quite some time and knew what was up.
The man shrugged and said: “Czeski film.” (literally: a Czech movie.)
People in our immediate vicinity nodded their heads in agreement.

In other words – nobody knew anything.

Later we heard rumors that the lock down was caused by a suspicious package. Or a stuffed animal left behind. Or something of that sort.

But wait, what’s a Czech movie got to do with anything? As it happens, absolutely nothing.

Czeski film” is an idiom used to describe situations where nobody knows what’s going on.

Why a Czech movie, and not for example, Hungarian?
Hmmm… Do you know anything about Czech comedies? (Don’t worry, me neither.)

Once upon a time, there was a real Czech movie, or rather, back in those days, a Czechoslovakian movie, that became quite popular in Poland. It was a comedy with that peculiar Czechoslovakian sense of humor. Its title? “Nikt nic nie wie.” Nobody knows anything, or in Czech - “Nikdo nic neví.

PS. And I’m reading just now that today it was the Central Station in Gdańsk that was evacuated. Also thanks to a suspicious package.

 

Stary Piernik and Other Expressions, part 1

Posted by Anna Ikeda

John H. came up with an excellent suggestion for a blog post and I gotta say that neither I nor my friends have ever had so much fun gathering material and doing “linguistic” research. Some of those expressions – I even forgot they existed. Like “stary piernik” for example. When translated literally, it becomes “old gingerbread.” But in fact, it’s a gentler version of a more “to the point” Polish expression, which is not quite polite – “stary pierd…” and I don’t think I should be teaching you these, anyway.

(Now you see why my friends and I had so much fun… I think we event invented a couple of new Polish curse words!)

But, stary piernik is a rather benign version – and it means something like “old fart” or “old geezer.” And just like in English, it’s used to describe men of a certain age and certain characteristics.

And while we’re on the subject of “piernik” – this word is also used in another idiomatic expression:

  • Co ma piernik do wiatraka? – What’s that got to do with anything? (but literally: What’s a gingerbread got to do with a windmill?)

Nieopierzony kurczak” was another example given by John. Translated literally it becomes “unfledged/featherless chickling.” And as you can easily guess, it’s used to describe a young, immature and inexperienced person.

And while we’re on the subject of young and inexperienced, another useful word is “żółtodziób.” Literally – yellow beak.

Also, just as in English, you can describe someone as being “green” – “zielony” – a total newbie.

We will continue with this in the future. For now, here are the words we’ve used today:

  • stary (fem. stara, neuter: stare, pl. masc. person: starzy, pl. other: stare) – old
  • piernik (masc., pl. pierniki) – gingerbread, spice cake, honey cake, lebkuchen
  • wiatrak (masc., pl. wiatraki) – windmill
  • nieopierzony (this is not a very common adjective, but if you want all the forms, here they are: fem. nieopierzona, neuter: nieopierzone, pl. masc. person: nieopierzeni, pl. other: nieopierzone) – unfledged, featherless
  • kurczak (masc. pl. kurczaki) – chicken, chickling,
  • żółty (fem: żółta, neuter: żółte, pl. masc. person: żółci, pl. other: żółte) audio – yellow
  • dziób (masculine. pl. dzioby) – beak, also a derogatory term for a mouth
  • zielony (fem. zielona, neuter: zielone, pl. masc. person: zieloni, pl. other: zielone) audio – green

And I don’t know about you, but that photo of pierniki makes me very hungry for some reason. I can just about smell the freshly baked lebkuchen… Hmmmm….

Image: Caro Wallis