“Will you get?”: Why this is difficult to read in Irish

I thought it might be nice, since this is one of my last blog posts, to give a little bit of an idea of what it’s like to sit down and learn Irish. I’m going to be talking largely about phonetics, the part of Irish which most often makes native English speakers raise their hands to the heavens in despair. It’s also the part of Irish which often makes native English speakers smile when they realize they finally understand it.

 

We’ll talk about my current favorite word in Irish: bhfaighidh. Bhfaighidh, as we all knew logically from our first glance at the word (or maybe because my teacher kindly explained it to me), is pronounced “wee.” It means “will get” in the future tense, but only if you are asking a question—“Will you get?”—or using a negative—“I won’t get.” If you want to use plain old “I will get,” you’re looking for gheobhaidh, which is pronounced “yo-wee.”

 

I had seen bhfaighidh before I came to the Gaeltacht, but I never felt comfortable using it. I wasn’t sure how to say it—my approximation would have been “why-gig,” and I knew that couldn’t be right. In retrospect, though, the pronunciation of bhfaighidh makes perfect sense and is an example of how consistent Irish phonetics are.

 

First, I should explain the bhf. In Irish, some words modify others by placing an urú on the second word. An urú is when a new letter or letters are placed in front of a word. The letters placed are specific to the letter that begins the word, and after they are placed, you pronounce them instead of the first letter of the word that’s being modified. Bh is the set of letters that modifies f, so it replaces the sound of f in pronunciation. In Irish, bh is pronounced like a w when it is followed by an a, o, or u. That is why “bhfa” becomes “w.”

 

After the beginning of the word, it gets simpler. In Irish, “ai” is pronounced “ee.” In the Ulster dialect, which is what they speak in Donegal, “gh” and “idh” at the ends of words are normally not pronounced. Even though “aigh” is not at the end of bhfaighidh, it is at the end of the root of the word, faigh. That’s it: Bhf+ai+gh+idh = wee. Everything has been pronounced as it should be.

 

It can be hard to get the old English rules out of my head sometimes. Reading out loud in Irish brings me back to the first grade, when I sounded out words one letter cluster at a time. Back then, I couldn’t believe anyone would be so silly as to give “th” and “sh” their assigned sounds. Now, it feels natural. It’s pretty amazing all of the different ways humankind has invented to write the same sounds. I still have a lot of Irish phonetics left to learn, and a lot about Irish in general, but it’s fun to sit down and learn about it. If you’re reading this, I hope you had fun, too.

La Salade : A Month Has Passed

One month has passed since I arrived in Paris – a fact still incredible even when I typed down these words. When I went to the metro station this morning, about to use my Navigo pass as usual, the machine told me it was no longer valid. Suddenly I recalled that August has come, whereas my July Navigo pass has already expired. I find this particularly intriguing, for before all it was this extremely trivial detail that reminded me of the month passed. Once this notion has been activated, however, my entire surroundings came alive. The huge posters alongside the corridor at the station all essentially read, “Jusqu’à la fin du juillet !” I could still recall how excited I was when I passed them the first day here. Spoiled by the rich cultural activities Paris, I supposed. Now these once enchanting opportunities has become obsolete. A bit sad yet also amazing how time flies.

Coquine the Cat at my Homestay

Coquine the Cat at my Homestay

Another student at my homestay will leave on August 6, roughly a week before I move out as well. Last week we sat down together at the table, sharing the wonderful dinner our host mother has prepared, and all of a sudden the idea of leaving soon struck both of us. For her it was perhaps even more pressing given only a week left. As a will-be photographer, my roommate has long found Paris her paradise. Yet up till then, she told me she has never done much “tourist” visiting. Nameless roads and cute boutiques has “distracted” her way too much. “Absolutely the same,” I nodded (except that I am nowhere near a photographer).

Strangely we both got this feeling that to visit as many scenic spots as possible, a month seems too long in that it spoils us with the luxury of time. Grateful all the same for not having to hurry, I did feel less incentives to spend entire days out traveling around the city. Yet when the stay comes to its end, my tourist impulse revives and agitates me with every minute passing. Dragging out the travel guide stuffed at the bottom of my suitcase, I realized there are yet so many spots that I have not checked out. Tour Eiffel and Musée du Louvre as two most representative must-go places remain intact for this trip. Even though I has twice visited Paris before, I am certain at my current age they would be renewed and enhanced surprises for me. If for the past month I was busying myself with French and “exploring the real everyday Paris,” I suddenly realized they have now turned in to literally must-go places.

Tour Eiffel from the South Bottom

Tour Eiffel from the South Bottom

Thus today after class I hurried to Tour Eiffel. One crucial mission is to send out postcards for my family and friends from the post office supposedly located at the south entrance of the tower. Only in this particular post office was a special post stamp featuring “Tour Eiffel” available, and I had hoped to make my postcards slightly more unique. Unfortunately, I was there only to find out that the post office has been closed for several months. Even the yellow mailbox has been wrapped with tapes and a paper notice saying, “This mailbox is out of service for security concerns.” I tried my best not to overstretch the potential dark implication behind “security,” for my friends traveling in Pars roughly a year ago told me the post office was well open then. Looking around one can easily spot several police officers in their heavy black uniforms, and of course with their cars nearby. Somehow in the warm afternoon sun, I felt like a shadow has never truly quitted Paris since last November. At that moment I was extra grateful for being able to lead on a relatively carefree life here, for there must have been numerous people standing up to the lurking threats and protecting our everyday life from them.

I’m in China!: Back to 798 and other random things

Hi friends. So while I was gone, I went to a lot of places that I went to before like the 798 art district! I learned a lot of important, valuable lessons this week; for example, don’t let your friends take the taxi in front of you, especially during rush hour. Four of my friends and I went to 798 and took a taxi because we thought it would save time as compared to taking the subway. Going by taxi was supposed to take 30 minutes, and taking the subway was supposed to take around an hour and a half. I found a taxi waiting near my dorm’s entrance and let three of my friends go first because we couldn’t fit five people in the car. They left and five minutes later my other friend and I found another taxi. It took us an hour and a half to get to 798 because we got stuck in Beijing traffic, and trust me, it’s way worse than LA traffic. We thought the other group got stuck in traffic too, but they said that they were waiting for us for an hour. Yeah, so in Beijing, don’t ever let your friends get a taxi before you. 好的 (good).

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Oh yeah and the art district was pretty cool I guess. We took a lot of cool pictures, so that was fun.

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I also went to the Silk Market again and didn’t get ripped off as much this time, so I think I’m getting used to this bargaining thing. I got a T-Mac Orlando Magic jersey, a pair of Adidas NMDs, a t-shirt, an I <3 北京 (Beijing) shirt, two phone fans, a wallet all for less than a hundred USD. I think I did well, but I’m not sure. I still probably got ripped off. I also went to this place called Dirt Market, flattering name I know, and it was nothing like the Silk Market. The Silk Market was in this huge air-conditioned building, whereas the Dirt Market was a huge outdoor marketplace. The Silk Market sold a lot of fake western things, while the Dirt Market sold a lot of traditional Chinese things like paintings and jade stuff. I didn’t really like the Dirt Market, but I thought it was an interesting experience nonetheless.