Posts tagged with "nouns"

I was writing something yesterday, in Polish, as it happens, and I almost had a nervous breakdown. Why? Plural forms of “number + noun” combinations are enough to drive anyone insane, even a native Pole.

And it all looked so simple! I was talking about body parts, more specifically, those body parts that come in twos.

There was little problem with hands and legs:

  • dwie ręce – two hands
  • dwie nogi – two legs

What was enough for a trip to an insane asylum was when I got to those body parts that are neuter in gender (when singular). You know, stuff like eyes and ears.

In English, it’s all so easy: one eye, two eyes. One ear, two ears. And your work here is done.

In Polish, first you have to figure out what kind of ear or eye you’re talking about.
When the noun is singular, it’s fairly easy.

  • ucho (noun, neuter) – ear: the organ that detects sound, OR: something shaped like an ear, like a handle on a jug, for example.
  • oko (noun, neuter) – eye: the organ that detects light, and sends electrical impulses along the optic nerve to the visual and other areas of the brain, OR: something shaped like an eye.

Confused yet? No? OK, you just wait. You will be.

So far so good. Then I tried to use these words as plural nouns. And remember, I was talking about body parts.

  • uszy – ears, when talking about body parts
  • oczy – eyes, when talking about body parts.

but:

  • ucha – ears, when talking about something shaped like an ear
  • oka – eyes, when talking about something shaped like an eye.

OK, that wasn’t too bad, right? Yeah, I thought so, too. And then I tried to say, or rather – write: two ears and two eyes. (And here, feel free to insert your favorite curse word, or two.)

It took me two słowniki ortograficzne and quite a bit of googling to get it right. And that was just in the nominative case! I’m not going to touch the other cases with a ten foot pole (or a Hungarian, for that matter).

Ok, so how do we say “two ears” when talking about body parts?

  • Dwoje uszu.

Yeah, where did that come from?

And how about “two eyes” (body parts again)?

  • Dwoje oczu.

Finally, my friend, trying to be helpful suggested: “Oh, what the heck, just say ‘a pair of eyes’ and ‘a pair of ears’.”

Yeah, easy for you to say.
Is it “para uszu” or “para uszów”? And is it “para oczu” or “para oczów”? Or maybe “para ócz”?

I give up. I need to call an expert. Where is Maciej Malinowskimistrz polskiej ortografii, when you need him?

Valentine’s Day (walentynki) came and went and I hope it was a pleasant occasion for you with czekoladki (chocolates), kwiatki (flowers) and romantyczna kolacyjka (romantic dinner).
(Yes, all of the above are diminutive nouns, but that’s how we would say it).

What this Valentine’s Day made me realize was how confusing the word “sympatia” is for both Poles (when speaking English) and foreigners who are learning Polish.

I was reading a blog by a Polish woman, but written in English, and she mentioned something along the lines of “I am going to spend the day with my sympathy.”

At first it didn’t even register. “Sympathy”? Somebody died on Valentine’s Day?

And then I remembered my high school days and figured it out what she was talking about. And what she was talking about was her “sympatia” – boyfriend.
Sympatia is a handy all-purpose word, it can mean “boyfriend” or “girlfriend”, or generally, somebody you have a crush on and are not even at a boyfriend-girlfriend level (yet).

So, what about “sympathy”? That’s współczucie in Polish.

Confusing? Just a little.

Sympatia” (noun, pl. sympatie) comes from the word “sympatyczny” (adjective, feminine: sympatyczna).

Sympatyczny chłopak (when talking about a guy), or sympatyczna dziewczyna (when talking about a girl) is someone who is nice, fun, loveable, pleasant and helpful. In other words, all the qualities we want in our prospective mates, right?

So there you have it, sympathy and sympatia are definitely two different things. And just because they sound vaguely similar in both languages, it doesn’t mean they can be used interchangeably.

Adam’s post about feminine endings for occupations and positions held by women made me think about feminine gender nouns in general.

That proposed ending “-a” makes it very easy to assume that Polish feminine nouns should end in “-a”. And yes, many indeed do. But not all.

There are some nouns that even though they don’t end in “-a”, you can more or less guess that they are feminine in gender. For example:

  • pani (plural: panie) – lady, Mrs or Ms.
  • gospodyni (plural: gospodynie) – landlady (or a woman who runs a household)
  • bogini (plural: boginie) – goddess

Those are the easy ones. And there aren’t that many of them.

The problem is that there’s also a multitude of nouns who look like they might be anything but feminine in gender. They end in a consonant, and there’s no other way, but to simply learn them one by one. And unfortunately, there’s quite a few of them.

Here are some of the most popular ones you may see:

  • krew (usually only singular) – blood
  • mysz (plural: myszy) – mouse
  • twarz (plural: twarze) – face
  • rzecz (plural: rzeczy) – thing
  • noc (plural: noce) – night
  • sól (plural: sole) – salt
  • myśl (plural: myśli) – thought
  • kolej (plural: koleje ) – railway

And those are still the easy ones. The biggest group of those “odd” feminine nouns end in those goofy soft consonants that most Polish learners grow to hate. And yes, this group is full of commonly used popular nouns.

For example:

  • jesień (plural: jesienie) – autumn
  • nić (plural: nici) – thread
  • wieś (plural: wsie) – village
  • kość (plural: kości) – bone
  • odpowiedź (plural: odpowiedzi) – answer
  • łódź (plural: łodzie) – boat
  • powieść (plural: powieści) – novel

There’s plenty more, unfortunately.

And then there are a few nouns that simply can’t decide whether they are feminine of masculine:

  • rodzynek (masculine) or rodzynka (feminine)– raisin
  • pomarańcz (masculine) or pomarańcza (feminine) – orange

Though with “orange” when you say “pomarańcz” you mean the color orange. Pomarańcza is an orange (fruit). But Polish raisins swing both ways, I guess.

Today’s post is about something that even I have problems with. Brother’s wife wife’s brother and sister’s husband and husband’s sister and sister’s daughter’s best friend’s neighbor’s son. Or something like that.

Either I’m monumentally stupid, or it’s really easy in English. Just stick “in-law” at the end of anything you’re not quite sure of (when talking about the “other” side of the family) and voila, your work there is done. So, whether you’re talking about your wife’s sister or your brother’s wife, you simply say “my sister in-law”, right?

Well, it’s not quite so easy in Polish (why would it, it’s Polish after all!) and all these people have their own individual names.
So, to be sure I get it right (because I hardly ever get it right) I consulted a book and my aunt. And while sometimes even Polish dictionaries can’t agree on what is correct, I know for a fact that my aunt is never wrong.

OK, so here’s the list (according to the book and my aunt):

  • brother’s wife – żona brata – bratowa
  • sister’s husband – mąż siostry – szwagier
  • wife’s brother – brat żony – szwagier
  • wife’s sister – siostra żony – szwagierka
  • husband’s sister – siostra męża – szwagierka

And there’s more:

  • sister’s daughter – córka siostry – siostrzenica
  • brother’s daughter – córka brata – bratanica
  • sister’s son – syn siostry – siostrzeniec
  • brother’s son – syn brata – bratanek

And now for the fun part, because we all love our in-laws, right?

  • daughter’s husband – mąż córki – zięć
  • son’s wife – żona syna – synowa

and

  • wife’s (or husband’s) father – ojciec żony (lub męża) – teść
  • wife’s (or husband’s) mother – matka żony (lub męża) – teściowa

When it comes to people like mother’s brother or father’s brother, back in the olden days (like about 20 years ago) they were called “wuj” and “stryj” respectively. But now, they’re just called “wuj”, or diminutively “wujek”, regardless of whose brothers they are.

And how for example would my father refer to my husband’s father in Polish? I have no idea. My dad has no idea either. He just said “father of my son-in-law” (ojciec mojego zięcia). Hey, works for me!

PS. And just to see if you remember your noun cases, can you tell which one we’ve been using today to describe all these people?

I think I should add a brief explanation regarding my previous post on diminutive proper names.

I am fully aware that if you really want to you can create zdrobnienia of just about any name out there, including Agnieszka, for example. The difference between some names and others is this: while very few perfect strangers would think to address a grown woman they don’t know as “Pani Agusia” (Agnieszka), they consider it perfectly normal and natural to say “Pani Krysia” (Krystyna) or “Pani Asia” (Joanna).

A few weeks ago when I was calling the pharmacy to find out if my prescriptions were ready for pick up, the pharmacist said this: “Pani Aneczko, lekarstewka są gotowe” (polite Pani, then my name in one of its diminutive forms, medicines are ready). For a sec I had to think who this “Pani Aneczka” was. And no, I’m not friends with the lady who works at the pharmacy, I don’t even know her name. But just because she knows my name, where I live and what kind of yeast infection treatment I use, she thinks it gives her the right to call me “Pani Aneczka”???

And “lekarstewka”??? Isn’t it a bit of an overkill? But unfortunately, this is what happens in Polish.

  • lekarstwo (neuter, plural: lekarstwa) – medicine

The pharmacist used “lekarstewka” – plural of “lekarstewko”, which would be what exactly, huh? Itsy bitsy medicine?

This use of diminutives in every day conversations is so widespread, that I don’t even remember the last time I was offered something other than “herbatka” (tea, diminutive) or “kawka” (“kawunia” or “kawusia” in some cases, either way, it’s coffee, diminutive) to accompany a “ciasteczko” (cake, diminutive) or a “kawałeczek placuszka z jabłuszkami” (piece of apple pie/cake, diminutive).

You know you are fully fluent in Polish when you stop getting confused if I asked at the store whether you prefer “szyneczka” (ham, diminutive) or “polędwiczka” (different kind of ham, diminutive). And then make your own “kanapeczki z pomidorkiem i ogóreczkiem” (sandwiches with tomato and cucumber, diminutive) with “plastereczki” (slices, diminutive) of either your “szyneczka” or “polędwiczka“.

Though wait a sec here.

Kanapka” is one of those goofy nouns. It’s a diminutive already – of “kanapa” which means “sofa.” But “kanapka” is a sandwich. And “kanapeczka” (sandwich, diminutive) is what you may offer your unexpected guests for a quick lunch. And oh yeah, “kanapeczka” doesn’t have to be small. One of my friends makes “kanapeczki” (plural of diminutive sandwiches) the size of wagon wheels.

And now, if you excuse me, because this is tydzień wielkanocny (Easter week), I have been tasked with preparing a traditional Polish Easter in this far-away exotic land that I am currently visiting. So, I need to go out and buy “jajeczka” (eggs, diminutive) to make “pisaneczki” (painted eggs, diminutive) and sort out a nice “koszyczek” (basket, diminutive) for “święconeczka” (diminutive of “święconka“ which is an assortment of food put in a basket and taken to church to be blessed on Great/Holy Saturday.)

There’s no church here to take my “święconka“ to, but I guess it’s the thought that counts, right?

Wesołych Świąt Wielkiej Nocy!!! – Happy Easter!!!

Back to the Top