Category Archives: Folk speech

Mangia, y’all

Nationality: Dallas, TX
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Language: English

Text:

A ritualistic saying that acts as performative speech to signal that people may start eating (similar to “bon appetit”).

Context:

The informant comes from an Italian family that currently lives in Dallas, TX. Her family emigrated from Sicily 6 generations ago through Louisiana and settled in South Texas; they have lived in the same city ever since. Her generation is actually the first generation that is not fully Sicilian Italian, because her father is from Nebraska. Members of the family will commonly say this phrase before meals.

Interpretation:

Given the family’s deep connections to both Italy and Texas, both places are fundamentally intrinsic to their family identity. This saying is not only a form of performative speech that instructs people to begin eating, but an indicator of a deeply loyal family history as a source of pride. Saying this phrase ritualistically before eating contextualizes mealtimes as a ritual through which to connect with the family through food, in both the past and present.

The Big D

Nationality: Dallas, TX
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Language: English

Text:

Residents of Dallas refer to it as “the Big D.”

Context:

The informant lived in Dallas for 17 years, and grew up knowing this nickname for her hometown.

Interpretation:

Preliminary research points towards this nickname originating from the song with the same name, “Big D” from the 1956 musical The Most Happy Fella. The name popularized when Bing Crosby recorded the song, and stuck when a columnist at Dallas Morning News titled his column “Big D.” Since then, residents of Dallas have continued to call their city “the Big D” without necessarily knowing the origin of the nickname.

The longevity of the nickname may be more due to its function as a double entendre than the timelessness origins. Though the nickname remains the same, the meaning behind it changes, so that new generations believe their hometown nickname is unironically an epithet for genitalia.

Sedibala pele ga se ikangwe

Text: “Sedibala pele ga se ikangwe”

Translation: “The well down the road [or in the next village, or down the path] cannot be relied on”

Context:

This phrase is a favorite of my informant, B, because of its many nuances. B is a middle aged man who lives and was raised in Gaborone, Botswana. This is a common phrase in Setswana —the national language of Botswana— used as a metaphor to relay that the future is unpredictable. B first learned this phrase from his parents in his childhood (1970s/80s). 

The phrase is often used to remind others of the unpredictability of the future. For example, if B’s and his wife were to set off on a road trip B has the option to fill up the gas tank before they leave but instead chooses to fill up in the next town over. Unfortunately the gas station in the next town is busy, and the next town is shut down and they are unable to find a working one before the car runs out of gas, the wife could say “Sedibala pele”. The phrase is so common, people often don’t finish the entire sentence, and the other party will still understand what is trying to be portrayed. 

B cites this phrase as a personal philosophy that has stuck with him since he was a young child, reminding him to focus on things in the present that he can control, and to not rely on the future because it is never guaranteed.

Interpretation/Analysis:

From what I know, the sentiment of this phrase is a common one throughout most cultures. It reminds me of the saying “don’t count your chickens before they hatch” which has origins in western agricultural communities, however it gives a similar message; not to rely on the future because it is not guaranteed. The phrase serves as a reminder of the inescapable uncontrollable nature of luck and chance in life. It speaks to the nature of humans to predict the future, see patterns in the past and assume they know what will happen next, as we know, that is not always accurate.

The niceties of language

Text: “Manate tsa puo”

Translation: The niceties of language; to beautify language or to pepper your speech with colorful language etc

Context:

K is a middle aged woman who was born and raised in Botswana and lives there currently. This is a common phrase in Setswana —the national language of Botswana. This saying references the customs of the Setswana language. A lot of speech in Setswana is in metaphors and proverbs, making it very difficult to translate directly to english. This phrase is often said to ease people who are having trouble understanding Setswana. It is essentially saying, this language is often unnecessarily convoluted, therefore you mustn’t feel bad when you do not understand. K used and heard this saying very often in her work in advertisement while working with business clientele who were not native Setswana speakers.

Analysis/Interpretation:

A saying such as this comes from an astute awareness of the perspective of outsiders that is incredibly interesting to observe in Botswana culture. Known for being very friendly and welcoming people, who are also very proud of their culture, it is unsurprising to have a saying that acknowledges the difficulties outsiders may face, encouraging them, while simultaneously complementing their language’s idiosyncrasies.

You can smell the wood

Text: “​​ça sent le sapin”

Translation: You can smell the wood

Context:

K is a student studying fashion in Paris. He first heard this French idiom in a car with his Parisian girlfriend’s family. The girlfriend’s sister was coughing a lot, and the mother said this phrase in response. This saying is essentially a way of saying, in jest, that someone is close to death. The “wood” in question is a reference to the material of a cheap coffin. Therefore, saying that a person can smell the wood, means they are very close to being in a coffin. 

Analysis: 

This phrase reminds me of the similar saying “knocking on death’s door”. Joking about death, or discussing it in such a flippant manner is quite a common thing in most western cultures. Death, typically, is something that is feared in most western societies, likely because what happens after death is understood to be unknown and undiscoverable to the living. Thus this dark humor present in such a normalized phrase is a response to the inherent fear of death so many have within themselves. Dramatizing something as simple as a cough (or other situation in which this phrase arises) allows the folk engaging in this speech to exhibit some small amount of control over death; in taking the seriousness out of the topic, it removes some of the fear about it too.