I know that the forming of a culture’s language and vocabulary is a very complex and organic process. But for the scope of this blog post, I ask you to assume one small thing and hold it as the truth; at least until after this post is over. This presupposition is this: That the vocabulary of a nation is based on necessity.What does this mean? It means that words exist because there was a need for them. Sounds simple and obvious some of you might say. Of course words exist because we need them. Without words, we wouldn’t be able to communicate. And you would be right. However, that is not my meaning at all. I’m talking about how the functionality of words are directly responsible for their inclusion in our vocabulary.
Take for example simple words like Fire and Wheel. We have words for them because they are the earliest tools of man. What about the word Internet? Did such a word exist in those times? In the 1950s perhaps? I’m going to say “no” simply because there was no need for such a word back then.
Following the same line of thinking, can anybody tell me if we have a word to describe the pain one feels when a fire-breathing dragon bites your foot off. And why is that? Exactly, because an occurrence like that doesn’t normally happen to us. Unless you frequent a small restaurant in the Timog area. Don’t ask.
Now if you’re still with me, please join me as we run through a few interesting points about the Philippine vocabulary. Say you bump your head on a particularly low doorway. What do you call that? In Filipino, it’s known as Untog (or Umpog, either is accepted). If you translate it into English, it would be “I banged/bonked/bumped my head on that low doorway.” Granted that “banged/bonked/bumped” are close approximations for “untog,”they are not exclusively used to describe the act of bumping one’s head. So am I right in concluding that the English language has no direct equivalent to “Untog”?
You argue that banged/bonked/bumped are close approximations. However, only the word “untog” pertains to the action of a head colliding with something, while its English approximations can be applied to any two solid objects colliding against each other.
What conclusions can we draw from this? Taking into consideration the presupposition described at the start of this post, can we assume that our ancestors were a bunch of clumsy imbeciles? Did we constantly bump our heads into walls, trees, birds, pants, each other that we finally decided to make up a word to describe such a phenomenon.
And if bumping our heads was so common, how come the Filipino language has no direct counterpart (at least one cannot be found in the average Pinoy’s everyday vocabulary) to the word Helmet?
I’ve got nothing.
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