If you've been following French news closely, you may be aware that the midwives are Not Happy at the moment. In all honesty, I think they're right to be annoyed- their work really is undervalued and the service they provide is fantastic.
That's not really what this post's about, though. No no no.
The French word for midwife is sage-femme, which means, literally... wait for it...
Wisewoman.
"Two things, my lord, must thee know of the Wisewoman. First, she is... a woman! ...and second, she is..."
"Wise?"
"You do know her, then?"
It's just one of those things that make the constant prodding and poking with needles more bearable.
Showing posts with label translation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label translation. Show all posts
Thursday, 6 October 2011
Monday, 29 November 2010
Fun with Words, Again
Helloes!
I've been playing with a certain automatic translator again. It makes me feel my job is worthwhile.
The phrase I fed it, this time, came from a packet of toilet rolls: they claim to be "doux et moelleux", which translates as something like "soft and squishy". Obviously no English-speaking toilet roll packet would use the word "squishy" (although I didn't think any English-speaking toilet roll packet would claim to be "kitten-soft", either, and THAT exists, God help us).
So. What did the automatic translator make of "doux et moelleux", then?
(Drumroll, please. Please? No? Why not? Naaaaaw, that's not very kind of you! Hmph).
Doux et moelleux: Sweet and mellow.
That is some seriously chilled out toilet roll we're using.
I've been playing with a certain automatic translator again. It makes me feel my job is worthwhile.
The phrase I fed it, this time, came from a packet of toilet rolls: they claim to be "doux et moelleux", which translates as something like "soft and squishy". Obviously no English-speaking toilet roll packet would use the word "squishy" (although I didn't think any English-speaking toilet roll packet would claim to be "kitten-soft", either, and THAT exists, God help us).
So. What did the automatic translator make of "doux et moelleux", then?
(Drumroll, please. Please? No? Why not? Naaaaaw, that's not very kind of you! Hmph).
Doux et moelleux: Sweet and mellow.
That is some seriously chilled out toilet roll we're using.
Thursday, 2 September 2010
Boudin
Yesterday, I went to the hairdressers in an attempt to sort out wedding hair.
This is a Big Deal. I do not like hairdressers. For some reason, "just sort my hair out, please" never seems to be a specific enough instruction, and I- who have few fixed ideas about my hair, just not a short fringe, please, I put up with that for quite long enough- end up having to describe in detail what I want doing.
Wedding hair being One Of Those Things That Needs Sorting Out, I went on a mission to find a hairdresser in Lyon yesterday (with Ze Boy's sister for moral support). The first place we visited didn't have time on the date in question, so that was out. The second was very overpriced and the name was slightly odd- Saint Algue (Holy Seaweed? Holy Algae? Saint Seaweed? Strange, however you translate it). In the third, the woman was very rude to us, and accused us of wasting her time because we refused to book an appointment to discuss the possibility of booking an appointment for a test for the real wedding-hair thingy. Yes, it was THAT complicated. And she was THAT rude. I quote: "mais là, je perds mon temps pour rien, vous m'avez vraiment dérangé, et vous ne prennez même pas de rendez-vous, enfin, c'est pas possible, quoi..."
One word: POUFIASSE. (There is no satisfactory English word in this case. Sorry).
The fourth place was fine. I went in, made an appointment for a test-chignon the same afternoon. I came out with hair crunchier than deep-fried seaweed (look! More seaweed! Maybe if I save it we can make sushi?), but it was ok. The hair is now sorted.
To make my hair do what she wanted, the hairdresser put a boudin in it.
Let's see what GoogleTranslate makes of that, shall we?
la coiffeuse a mise un boudin dans mes cheveux gives:
(wait for it...)
The vanity put a sausage in my hair.
It seems my job is safe for now.
This is a Big Deal. I do not like hairdressers. For some reason, "just sort my hair out, please" never seems to be a specific enough instruction, and I- who have few fixed ideas about my hair, just not a short fringe, please, I put up with that for quite long enough- end up having to describe in detail what I want doing.
Wedding hair being One Of Those Things That Needs Sorting Out, I went on a mission to find a hairdresser in Lyon yesterday (with Ze Boy's sister for moral support). The first place we visited didn't have time on the date in question, so that was out. The second was very overpriced and the name was slightly odd- Saint Algue (Holy Seaweed? Holy Algae? Saint Seaweed? Strange, however you translate it). In the third, the woman was very rude to us, and accused us of wasting her time because we refused to book an appointment to discuss the possibility of booking an appointment for a test for the real wedding-hair thingy. Yes, it was THAT complicated. And she was THAT rude. I quote: "mais là, je perds mon temps pour rien, vous m'avez vraiment dérangé, et vous ne prennez même pas de rendez-vous, enfin, c'est pas possible, quoi..."
One word: POUFIASSE. (There is no satisfactory English word in this case. Sorry).
The fourth place was fine. I went in, made an appointment for a test-chignon the same afternoon. I came out with hair crunchier than deep-fried seaweed (look! More seaweed! Maybe if I save it we can make sushi?), but it was ok. The hair is now sorted.
To make my hair do what she wanted, the hairdresser put a boudin in it.
Let's see what GoogleTranslate makes of that, shall we?
la coiffeuse a mise un boudin dans mes cheveux gives:
(wait for it...)
The vanity put a sausage in my hair.
It seems my job is safe for now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)