Lessons from inside a word

The next time you squeeze a bottle of ketchup, straighten those shoulders a little. Feel proud. The sauce may be a foreign blend but the word sits right here at home.

According to word archaelogists – or etymologists, specifically – ‘ketchup’ very likely originated from ‘koaychiap’ or “brine of fish” from China (Amoy dialect). It came to our shores, morphed phonetically to kichap, before being picked up by the Brits and anglicized as catsup. First recorded in 1711, ‘ketchup’ is now an everyday word in common English. And somewhere along the way, tomatoes got the better of fish. Wat to do, they don’t have the Sunda Basin and happy-happy ikan bilis. Today, ketchup sits side-by-side kicap and koaychiap in a typical kitchen, sauce sisters across culture and time.

I get dizzy on etymology. It’s something I picked up from friends while in the US. Also the works of many writers I hold dear use etymology to launch into their sometimes dreamy, sometimes crusty tangents.

Etymology – the natural history of a word – allows one to trace its growing spirit before its current form came to be. Hence it drives towards fundamentals, principles, and intent. It’s about roots, baby. Which is why I oftentimes prefer that to a dictionary listing. With etymology, there’s this added dimension to the meaning of a word.

For instance, the etymology of Etymology
1398, from Gk. etymologia, from etymon "true sense" (neut. of etymos "true," related to eteos "true") + logos "word." In classical times, of meanings; later, of histories. Latinized by Cicero as veriloquium.

True sense. Man, I like that. The roots of a word informs a lot. It has the capacity to fill one with wonder. One of my all-time favourites is ‘enthusiasm’, first shared with me by Eric E, an intense American, while we downed cheap beers late night in design studio.

Enthusiam
1603, from M.Fr. enthousiasme, from Gk. enthousiasmos, from enthousiazein "be inspired," from entheos "inspired, possessed by a god," from en- "in" + theos "god".

Ooooo…. Awesome.

Because it is embedded history, etymology also helps us better understand where we come from, who influenced us and how we’ve influenced the world. Words from other cultures get sorok-ed into the English language because there was no equivalent or fit for that description or concept, and so their usage becomes relevant and desired. It boosts communication, it gets an idea across, it speaks louder than any political mouthpiece, and it captures values.

The previous administration erected those twin towers, tallest building in the world at the time, to “let the world know we’ve arrived”, according to its founder. It was a RM4.1 billion PR campaign. Gadzooks! We've also sent people to Mt Everest, to the Poles, to anywhere where we could get some worldwide publicity; and even a sidebar would do. Our govt now wants to send an ‘angkassanavt’ up in the ethers to check out the view. Also to let the world know we’ve arrived.

Ayo sayang, no need la.

In many quieter and subtler ways, we have arrived. Long before we became self-conscious and insecure about our image, we were already accepted. We were accepted because we had then-fresh ideas, lifestyles and descriptions. The rest of the world thought these were way-cool and over time, they were absorbed into everyday life.

Etymology gives us a clue to what we’ve contributed to global culture.

Launch – the term for a bigger-sized boat – comes from the Malay word lanchar, which means quick, agile. It was appropriated by the Portuguese (lancha, or barge, launch) when they camped here for a couple of centuries. The eventual spelling (since 1697) was influenced by the English verb launch.

And bamboo? Check this out – 1598, from Du. bamboe, from Port. bambu, earlier mambu (16c.), probably from Malay samambu, though some suspect this is itself an imported word.

The bogeyman – possibly came from the name Bugis, another American friend Stephen B told me. Some scholars believe its origins come from the tales of European sailors who returned from voyages in the South Seas after kena belasah by the most vicious of pirates at the Straits of Melaka. I mean, talk about world class.

My favourite, since I’m smitten over environmental design:
Compound – describing a spatial set of buildings – comes from our very own ‘kampong’. Yup, homegrown goodness. It was appropriated into the Dutch (kampoeng) in the 17th century and subsequently absorbed into English.

Now, if only our developers, planners and architects – and purchasers – reached more into their soul rather than their pockets, we’d see fewer stupid condo-towers (a modern-age American import) and lifeless terrace housing (a modern-age European import) and more community-enabled spaces (kampung glocal, brudder).

Substance, folks, substance. Rather than being obsessed with that swanky suit to show off to the world, first have substance. In the course of time, in just being real, you’ll find the world embracing you, no matter if you’re in flip-flops and sarong.

After all, it all comes down to true sense.



p.s.
Credits to http://www.etymonline.com/ for information on the entries, except ‘bogeymen’ which can be found in Wikipedia here.
Thanks to yck for the tip on ketchup. Btw, he’s Malaysian.