Next installment

Biraz sonra güneşin batışını izleyeceğimiz balkonda oturmuş, annemle kahvelerimizi içiyorduk.
"Bu sene de tatilimiz geçti, gidiyor. Haç Bayramı; büyük bayram bugün."
"İyi."
Bana hayal kırıklığıyla baktı. Anneme göre benim dini inancım yok denecek kadar azdı. Hemen konuyu değiştirdim.
"Her şeyi anladım da niye bunları bana, ille de bugün vermen gerekiyordu, onu anlamadım."
Omuzlarını silkti. Günbatımıyla kiremitlerimize tünemeye gelen güvercinlere baktı. Merdivenlerini kirletiyorlar diye sinirlendi annem onlara.
"İşte yine bu namussuzlar. Başka bir yere de gitmezler ki! Katina Teyze'ni hatırlıyor musun?"
"Tabii ki hatırlıyorum."
"Aa... o öldüğünde sen çok küçüktün de."
"Bu bıraktıklarını ne yapacağımı da söyledi mi sana?"
"Bana 'o biliyor' dedi."
"Biliyor muyum?"
"Evet."
"Neyi biliyorum?"
"Ben nereden bileyim?"
Kahvesinden bir yudum aldıktan sonra devam etti.
"Biliyor musun Mana, bazen sana baktığımda sanki onu karşımda görüyorum. Özellikle de burada, Egina'daki evdeyken."
"Birbirimize benziyor muyuz?"
"A... yok! Gece ile gündüz kadar zıtsınız; o çok çirkindi."
"Çok çirkindi, haklısın."
Başını gururla dikleştirdi.
"Ancak, birbirinden yakışıklı ve zengin beş erkekle evlenmeyi başardı."
"Hadi canım! Bak sen şu işe! Uyanığa bak sen hele; nasıl becermiş? Ben şurada Hristo'yu bile kendime bağlamayı becere-miyorum."
Annem küçük parmağıyla bana sandığı işaret ederken, bir yandan da imalı imalı gülümsüyordu.
Akşam tekrar defterlere göz attım. Eminim, bir büyücünün sırlarıydı bunlar. Şuradakini nasıl oldu da daha önce görmedim? Bu ne acaba? Notların olduğu küçük bir defter. Takvim gibi. Sonunda anlaşılabilir bir şey çıktı. Kara kalemle yazılıydı. Attar-ti Ana dedi... Attarti Ana buyurdu...
Biraz aşağıda, 28 Mart 1891 yazıyordu.
"Annesinin ismi neydi?"
"Eftalya. Annemin teyzesiydi. İki kardeşin çocukları."
Annem eğer soyağacını anlatmaya başlarsa asla bitiremezdik bu sohbeti.
"Katina'nın çocukları yok muydu?"
"Var. Olga."
"Nasıl oldu da bunları kendi kızına değil de bana bıraktı?"
Annem bana cevap vermek yerine kayınvalidemi arayıp kızımın nasıl olduğunu öğrenip öğrenmediğimi sordu.


—Ay, ya está, otra vez se acaban las vacaciones —dijo mamá en elpequeño balcón, donde estábamos tomando el café juntas. Delante delmar, dentro de nada se vería la puesta de sol—. El Día de la Cruz. Unagran fiesta.
—No será para tanto.
Me miró decepcionada. Para mi madre, mis obligaciones religiosas erande lo más insuficientes, incluso nulas. Cambié de tema.
—Lo puedo entender todo. Pero ¿por qué tenías que dármelo justamente hoy?
Se encogió de hombros. Miró las palomas, que con el crepúsculo veníana buscar abrigo en el tejado.
—Ya vuelven las sinvergüenzas —se alteró. Le dejaban la escalera llenade cagadas—. Ya podrían irse a otro sitio... ¿Te acuerdas de la tía Catina?
—¡Claro que me acuerdo!
—Ah, es que eras muy pequeña cuando murió.
—¿Y qué te dijo que hiciera con eso?
—Me dijo: «Ella ya sabe».
—¿Yo?
—Sí.
—¿Yo qué voy a saber?—¡Y yo qué sé! —Dio un sorbo de café—. ¿Sabes qué, María? —siguió—.A veces, cuando te miro, es como si la viera a ella. Sobre todo aquí. En lacasa de Egina.
—¿Nos parecemos?
—¡Qué va! Ni de lejos... Ella era fea.
—Es verdad, era feísima.
—Y aun así —se enderezó con orgullo— consiguió casarse con cincohombres, cada uno mejor que el anterior, más guapo, más rico...
—¡Anda! ¡Cuenta, cuenta! ¿Cómo lo consiguió la muy pendona? Si aquí nosotras no nos comemos ni una rosca...
Mamá señaló el baúl con su dedo pequeñito y me miró con una sonrisainsinuadora.
Por la noche volví a abrir los textos. Seguro que son códigos de bruja. ¿Yesto? ¿Cómo no lo he visto antes? ¿Qué es? Una libretita de cuentas conanotaciones. Parece un diario. Aquí hay algo inteligible. Aquella lengua estaba escrita con carboncillo: «La madre Atarti ha dicho... La madre Atartiha ordenado...», y más abajo: «28 de marzo de 1891».
—¿Cómo se llamaba su madre?
—Eftalía. Era la tía de mi madre. Hijas de dos hermanos.
Si empezaba con los parentescos, no acabaríamos nunca.
—¿Catina no tenía hijos?
—Sí, Olga.
—¿Y por qué me dio las escrituras a mí en vez de a su hija?
En vez de contestarme, mamá me preguntó si había llamado a misuegra para ver cómo estaba mi hija.

"Πανε και φετοσ οι διακοπεσ μασ. Τελειωνουν" ειπε η μαμα στο μπαλκονακι, που πιναμε παρεα τον καφε μασ. Μπροστα στη θαλασσα, θα 'βλεπεσ σε λιγο το ηλιοβασιλεμα. "Του Σταυρου σημερα. Μεγαλι γιορτη".
"Καλα".
Με κοιταξε με απογοητευση. Για τη μαμα τα θρησκεντικα μου καθηκοντα ηταν ελλιπεστατα εωσ ανυπαρκτα. 'Αλλαξα κουβεντα.
"Ολα τα καταλαβαινω. Αλλα γιατι επρεπε να μου τα δωσεισ ειδικα σημερα;"
Σηκωσε τουσ ωμουσ. Κοιταξε τα περιστερια, που με το σουρουπο ερχονταν για να κουρνιασυν στα κεραμιδια ηασ.
"Να τα παλι τα ατιμα" νευριασε. Τησ λερχναν τισ σκαλεσ με κουτσουλιεσ. "Δεν πανε και πουθενα αλλου... Τη θυμασαι καθολον τη θεια Κατινα;"
"Φυσικα και τη θυμαμαι!"
"Α! Γιατι μσουν μικρη οταν πεθανε".
"Και τι σου 'πε να τα κανω;"
"Μου 'πε. Ξερει αυτη".
"Ξερω;"
"Ναι".
"Ξερω τι;"
"Ξερω γω;" Ρουφηξε καφε. "Ξερεισ λοιπον κατι, Μαρια;" συνεχισε. "Καμια φορα, οταν σε βλεπω, λεσ και τι βλετω μπροστα μου. Και ειδικα εδω. Στο σπιτι τησ Αιγινασ".
"Μοιαζουμε;"
"Α μπα! Η μερα με τη νυχτα... Αυτη ηταν ασχημη".
"Κακασχημη γταν. Δικιο εχεισ".
"Κι ομωσ" ισιωσε με καμαρι, "καταφερε να παρει πεντε αντρεσ. Τον ενα καλυτερο απο τον αλλον, τον ενα ωραιοτερο απο τον αλλον, τον ενα πλουστιοτερο απο τον αλλονε".
"Ελα! Για πεσ! Πωσ τα καταφερε η πουφιανα κι εμεισ δεν μπορουμε να σταυρωσουμε Χριστο;"
Η μαμα εστριψε το μικρο τησ δαχτυλακι προσ το μπαουλο και με κοιταξε μειδιωντασ με σημασια.
Το βραδυ ξανανιξα τα κειμενα. Σιγουρα ειναι κωδικεσ μαγισσασ. Τουτο δω, πωσ δεν το 'δα πριν; Τι ειναι; 'Ενα τεφτερακι με σημειωσεισ. Σαν ημερολογιο. Να και κατι κατανοητο. Η γλωσσα ηταν γραμμενη με καρβουνομυτη. Η μανα Ατταρτι ειπε... Η μανα Ατταρτι οπισε..., πιο κατω, 28 μαρτιου 1891.
"Πωσ τη λεγανε τη μανα τησ;"
"Ευταλια. 'Ητανε θεια τησ μανασ μου. Δυο αδελφων παιδια".
Αν αρχιζε με τα συγγενολογια, δε θα τελειωναμε ποτε.
"Η Κατινα δεν ειχε παιδια;"
"Ειχε, την 'Ολγα".
"Πωσ και δεν εδωσε τισ γραφεσ στην κορη τησ παρα τισ αφησε δε μενα;"
αντι απαντμσησ, η μαμα με ρψτησε αν τηλεφωνμσα οτην πεφερα μου να δω τι κανει η κορη μου.


"Wie schnell die Ferien zu Ende gegangen sind", meinte meine Mutter, als wir auf dem kleinen Balkon unseren Mokka tranken. Vor uns lag dar Meer, das bald im onnenuntergang aufleuchten würde.
"Heute ist die Kreuzerhöhung Christi, ein hoher Feiertag."
"Aha."
Sie warf mir einen enttuschten Blick zu. In den Augen meiner Mutter kam ich meinen religiösen Pflichten nur unzureichend nach. Besser also, ich wechselte das Thema.
"Alles, was recht ist, aber wieso solltest du mir das alles ausgerechnet heute übergeben?"
Sie zuckte die Achseln und blickte auf die Tauben, die in der Abenddämmerung heranflogen und sich auf das Dach hockten.
"Schon wieder diese Viecher", ärgerte sie sich. Sie bekleckerten ihr die Treppen mit Taubendreck. "Können die nicht woanders hinfliegen... Erinnerst du dich überhaupt an Tante Katina?"
"Natürlich erinnere ich mich!"
"Du warst ja noch sehr klein, al sie starb."
"Und hat sie dir gesagt, was ich damit anfangen soll?"
"Sie hat gesagt: Sie wird schon wisen."
"Ich würde schon wissen?"
"Ja."
"Was würde ich wissen?"
"Ach, keine Ahnung." Sie nahm einen Schluck Mokka. "Weisst du was, Maria?", furh sie fort. "Manchmal, wenn ich dich so anschaue, sehe ich sie richtig vor mir. Und vor allem hier, in ihrem Haus."
"Sehen wir uns ähnlich?"
"Nicht die Spur! Ihr seid so verschieden wie Tag und Nacht... Sie war keine schöne Frau."
"Sie war unansehnlich, das stimmt."
"Aber trotzdem", sagte sie stolz, "hat sie es geschafft, sich fünf Ehemänner zu angeln. Einer besser, schöner und reicher als der andere."
"Komm schon! Wie hat sie das bloss gemacht? Und wir suchen ein Leben lang die Nadel im Heuhaufen!"
Meine Mutter deutete mit dem kleinen Finger auf die Truhe und blickte mich mit einem verschwörischen Lächeln an.
Am Abend schlug ich die Hefte wieder auf. Ganz bestimmt waren das Zauberformeln. Aber das hier, wieso hatte ich das vorhin übersehen? Was war das? Ein Heftchen voll mit Notizen. Wie ein Tagebuch. Wenigstens etwas, das halbwegs verständlich war. Der Text war mit Kohlestift geschieben. Mutter Attarte hat gesagt... Mutter Attarte hat bestimmt..., und weiter unten: 28. März 1891.
"Wie hiess ihre Mutter?"
"Eftalia. Sie war die Tante meiner Mutter, unsere Grosseltern waren Geschwister."
Wenn sie jetzt mit dem Familienstammbaum anfing, fand sie kein Ende mehr.
"Hatte Katina keine Kinder?"
"Doch, Olga."
"Wieso hat sie dann diese Schriften nicht ihrer Tochter, sondern mir vermacht?"
Anstelle einer Antwort fragte mich meine Mutter, ob ich meine Schwiegermutter angerufen hätte, um mich nach meiner Tochter zu erkundigen.

Meillä suomenkielessä on sanonta "katinkontit". Cat's rucksack. It means "nonsense". Now I see in the Greek text the word "καθηκοντα", duties, and I wonder if it's related :-D Duties are a bit of a nonsense.
(Now, it seems to be a dialectal variation and not mean a birch bark bag at all, but paws, feet, but - it's nice to meet something similar :-D

So... I have been just copying the text (I mean, writing from the text, not "copy-and-paste"), and that has helped me a lot with reading, but not with understanding. I recognize forms and have a sense of "this is not spelled right", but I don't understand much of what I write, and that irritates me :-D

So I made a frequency check and decided to make flashcards of the most common words and derivates. Dang, that was not easy! Because my frequency calculator doesn't recognize Turkish letters, so it just discards them as if they weren't there! So I had to first transcribe the words using only English letters, and then transcribe them back to Turkish, because some words change meaning depending on if you write it with ı or i, ş or s, ğ or g, ç or c, and some words don't mean a thing if you use a wrong letter. :-D
And THEN I need to verify the words, because just because two words look different, they aren't necessarily related :-D

Slowly, slowly...

Uh... my reading is still painfully slow. So slow I just want to give up trying to actually read the sentence and just guess. 
Now I know how the kids at school "who can't read good", or people with dyslexia, feel. :-( Not fun. Very stressful.
Right now I wish I was a teacher... I would put the kids on the first class, who can read, to read some other writing system :-D For example Korean. So that they understand, that everyone in the class understands, that no-one was born able to read. Everyone has to learn it to be able to do it, and some people take longer time than others.
Also, I would find out what everyone does well, and let them shine doing that, because not everyone will become good at things, how ever much they practice and train and do it.

And suddenly I was back at school... I remember the teachers making a big deal of this one kid who was a good actor. He was, he was amazing. I mean, he was 10 and actually acted! Not just mechanically repeated the words and moved from one spot to another like the rest of us.
And I remember being so jealous of him.
I was like... Not one of the teachers ever told me that I was good at something. My best friend, a year younger than I was, told me later that our teacher told them how good I was at things. He never told me. They just... seemed to expect of me that I was good. I was put to do things, like if something had to be drawn, I did it, if someone needed to participate in some sport event, like run in the cross country competition, I did it. In every subject, I was expected to deliver the answer. And I always did.
I mean... now I think that I must have been good, but... I still don't believe it.
I wasn't even a straight A student. In Finland we had a grading system from 4 to 10, 4 being unacceptable and 10 being perfect. I had a lot of 7s and 8s. 7 is mediocre, average. I just don't get it. I mean... I always had the right answers, everyone came to me to ask things, I was good at art and singing and sports and maths and languages and knew more than most people know in their lifetime already when I was 10, because I love to read and find things out, I love science and history and the world and everything! But I was never rewarded for it. And I don't understand why. And why didn't my parents do anything about it? I would. I would go to the school and ask why the teacher things my child is mediocre, when we both know very well they are not. They are exceptional, talented, intelligent, good kids, and they deserve better. So what does the teacher think my kids need to do more to get better grades? I still don't know what I would have needed to do differently.
And it's like... I will never be good enough. Even when I am exceptional, talented, intelligent and good, I will not be enough. For some inexplicable reason.

Well... er... sorry about that. Just that... I'm getting anxious over not reading well, even though there is no reason why I should read well, and no-one will know unless I tell them. And even if they know, they probably aren't there judging me, because most people will never even try learning to read Korean, and I at least manage, even when I don't read well. And this is Duolingo, where I can take the whole day to go through one lesson.

Hmm... Ich habe einen Sprachtest gemacht. Es ging nicht so gut. Aber Ich wusste es. Ich habe mein Deutsch seit Jahren nicht benutzt. Der einzige Weg ist nach oben. Es ist irgendwie komisch ... im Moment sieht es okay aus, aber ich bin mir sicher Ich werde es in Zukunft lesen und lache über mein schlechtes Deutsch.

Tietenkin pitää logata näidenkin kielten käyttö, vaikka onkin äidinkieleni ja se toinen kotimainen ja nykyinen kotikieleni. Eihän se että jokin kieli on äidinkieli, tarkoita sitä että se pysyy täydellisenä lopun ikää vaikkei sitä käyttäisikään. Eihän se pysy. Onhan tämä suomea, muttei kovin hyvää enää. Vielä 20 vuotta sitten oli ihan täydellistä, mutta kun ei sitä käytä, se katoaa. Mikä on surullista, mutta hyvää tässä on se, että minun tarvitsee vain lukea niin on taas ihan hyvä kieli :-D
Olen nyt menossa Suomeen kuukauden päästä, ja ajattelin käydä kirjastossa ja hankkia e-kortti, että voin käyttää kirjastojen e-kirjakokoelmaa ja lukea kirjoja suomeksi. Voinhan aina lukea niitä kirjoja mitä meillä kotona on, mutta olisi kivempaa lukea uusia kirjoja.
Toisaalta, ostin useampi vuosi sitten Jules Vernen kirjat sinä halpapainoksena, lyhennettynä ja vähän oudosti käännettynä, joka julkaistiin joskus 80-luvulla kun Verne oli muotia. (Oli ainakin Suomessa... olikohan missään muualla?)

Par contre, je devrais vraiment les lire en français. Après tout, ils sont tous en ligne, librement accessibles et je peux lire le français.

Jo, alltså jag använder svenska varje dag, så den är OK. Givetvis är den inte perfekt, för jag är inte svensk, svenska är inte mitt modersmål, och den har de där hemska prepositionerna och artiklar och andra sådana onödiga, obegripliga saker som är svåra för finnar. :-D

I really want to learn Hungarian properly for several reasons.
1) It is one of the few existing languages related to Finnish
2) It is harder than Finnish - more cases and phonemes! Yay!
3) In my genealogy (which is pure blue and white for at least 10 generations) there is one Hungarian woman, so "it's my family language" :-D There's also one Walloon.

today, 25th of July

I just... uh. I'm trying to adjust my favorite ways of learning letters to Arabic, and it just resists every suggestion.
"No, you can't do that, because we have more than one form".
"But what if I learn the forms as I..."
"No, you can't do that! Because you would only be learning like 1/3 of a letter at a time. It would be too confusing."
"It IS already confusing! Dang it!"

Hän on täällä tänään! (kin)

So started today with resetting my Navajo and starting it from beginning, to catch the frases I need to hunt for the pronunciation. Duolingo was zeroed tonight as well and everyone is beginning from zero. :-D

And guess what... it's easier to find pronunciation for Navajo words and sentences than Maltese...
There's about 150,000 people who speak Navajo as their first language, and about half a million who speak Maltese. Navajo is an endangered language, Maltese is not. Maltese is the national language of Malta and one of the official EU languages.

So I trained the Hiragana again, just to strengthen the learning. Still strong :-D

So I noticed Duolingo has an Italian course... for Spanish speakers. So - let's do that. I'll get both languages at the same time, then :-D

Jeg bare elsker dette sprog

Et à ma surprise, je connais beaucoup plus de français que je le pensais. Ha.

I fell in love with the man. Now every word is like a cut. Walking on broken glass...
Also, I never much liked it. I don't know why I'm doing this to me. I suppose I still want to collect the whole series.
I'm mad.

Icelandic is an interesting language with its... hermitage? The Icelanders being very, very strict about not adopting any loan words. At the same time... it's a bit boring.

"Eyþór Ingi Gunnlaugsson will represent Iceland at Eurovision 2013 with the song “Ég á líf”. That means “I have life”."
I love that song :-)  Now, that's not my translation, I don't know who did it, but it's good enough.

Lagði ég af stað í það langa ferðalag
Ég áfram gekk í villu eirðarlaus
Hugsaði ekki um neitt, ekki fram á næsta dag
Einveru og friðsemdina kaus

Ég á líf, ég á líf yfir erfiðleika svíf
Ég á líf, ég á líf vegna þín
Þegar móti mér blæs, yfir fjöllin há ég klíf
Ég á líf, ég á líf, ég á líf

I set out upon that long journey

I walked on lost and restless

Didn’t think about anything until the following day.

I chose peace and tranquility.

I am alive, I am alive

I glide above every hardship

I'm alive, I'm alive because of you

When the winds turn against me, 

I will climb over high mountains,

I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive

Ég skildi ekki ástina sem öllu hreyfir við
Þorði ekki að faðma og vera til
Fannst sem ætti ekki skilið að opna huga minn
Og hleypa bjartri ástinni þar inn

Ég á líf, ég á líf yfir erfiðleika svíf
Ég á líf, ég á líf vegna þín
Þegar móti mér blæs, yfir fjöllin há ég klíf
Ég á líf, ég á líf vegna þín

I didn’t understand about love, which can move everything

Didn’t dare to embrace and to simply exist

I felt like I didn’t deserve to open up my mind

And let the bright love enter within

I am alive, I am alive

I glide above every hardship

I'm alive, I'm alive because of you

When the winds turn against me,

 I will climb over high mountains,

I'm alive, I'm alive because of you

Og ég trúi því, já, ég trúi því
Kannski opnast fagrar gáttir himins
Yfir flæðir fegursta ástin
Hún umvefur mig alein

Ég á líf…
yfir erfiðleika svíf
Ég á líf, ég á líf vegna þín
Þegar móti mér blæs, yfir fjöllin há ég klíf
Ég á líf, ég á líf vegna þín

Ég á líf, ég á líf, ég á líf

And I believe it, Yes I do believe it

Perhaps the wondrous gates of heaven will open

Beautiful love will flood out

to embrace me alone

I’m alive... 

I glide over every difficulty

I am alive, I am alive because of you

When the winds turn against me

I climb over the high mountains

I am alive, I am alive because of you

I am alive, I am alive, I am alive 

Nu - jag säger det här på svenska, för att bevisa att den har jag redan :-D Dessutom kan jag inte färöiska nog för att säga det på det språket. Eg kann ikke føroyskt mál nog. :-D
Jag snackar någon sorts skandinaviska, och tar olika ord från olika språk och blandar hejvilt sådär. Det blir bra så :-D
De flesta skandinaver förstår svenska. Svenskar förstår nästan ingen annan skandinav, och har svårigheter ibland även med de inhemska dialekterna.

Dan een beetje Nederlands...

and Chinese...

Todays multilingual reading

"Anne be!"
Mutfaktan kızgın yağda kavrulan soğanların cızırtısı geliyordu. Annem salçalı tavuk yapıyordu.
"Mübadele zamanı Küçük Asya'dan gelirlerken insanların bir şey getirmeye fırsatları olmamıştı, değil mi?"
"Eee?"
"1922 (bin dokuz yüz yirmi iki) 'de diyorum, insanlar servetlerini kaybetmediler mi? Türkler hepsini denize dökmedi mi?"
"Evet."
"O zaman teyzem bu kadar eşyayı nasıl beraberinde getirebilmiş ki?"
"Katina felaketten birkaç ay önce gelmişti."
"Yok yaa! Müneccim miydi?"
Annem kapıda göründü.
"Evet" dedi gayet doğal bir şekilde, maydanoz almak için buzdolabına eğilirken.
"Ha?"
Yedi numaralı defteri aldım elime. Sarmısak soslu tavşan. Bir okka tavşan için... Bak bu iyi işte; defterde bol bol yemek tarifi var.
Yemek pişirmek hoşuma gidiyor. Hepsini pişirmesem bile tarifleri toplamaya bayılıyorum. Glassada... Yulya'nın tarifi... Keçi sütü, bir kaşık vanilya...
"Glassada ne?"
"Dondurma."
İşim yoktu da, oturup bir de dondurma yapacağım! Ben hazırını alıyorum. Hımmm... burada ne yazıyor? On dört numaralı defter gerçek deriyle kaplı. Kenarından çuval ipiyle dikilmiş. Sayfalarda Arapça ya da Türkçe harfler var. Şeytansı resimler de cabası: Kafasız bir vücut, biraz aşağıda işaretlerle bir göz ve oklar, üzerine iğneler batırılmış bir vücut... Sayfaların altında da bazı açıklamalar var. Hımmm... Sağ ol teyze, bana bıraktığın miras için. Sayende arşa ulaştım!
"Hadi anne, yemek hazır mı? Acıktım."
Eğer annem büyük teyzesi Eftalya gibi, eski püskü şeyleri toplamasaydı, bu yazıların hepsi şimdiye kadar kaybolup gitmişti. Bunlar benim elime geçmiş olsalardı, çoktan çöp tenekesinin dibini boylamışlardı. Çünkü gereksiz olduğuna inandığım her şeyi hiç tereddüt etmeden atarım. Katina'nın ölümünden sonra iyiki annem onun evini temizleme ve toplama işini üstlenmiş. Sadece evi şöyle bir silip kıyafetleri de ihtiyacı olan yoksullara dağıtılmak üzere Aziz Nektaryo Manastırı'na bağışlamıştı. Böylece bu kitapları da kurtarmış oldu. Yazıtların Bekçisi, yani annem onları, Katina'dan aldığı kesin emre uyarak ölümünden yirmi üç yıl sonra, tam bugün, 14 (on dört) Eylül'de, bana devretmek için saklamıştı.

—¡Mamá! —grité.
Se oyó el chisporroteo de la cebolla en el aceite hirviendo de la cocina.Mamá estaba preparando pollo con salsa de tomate.
—Los refugiados se fueron sin que les diera tiempo a llevarse nada,¿verdad?
—¿Eh?
—Digo que si en el 22 (veintidos) la gente no perdió su fortuna. ¿Los turcos no se lotiraron todo al mar?
—Sí.
—¿Entonces la tía cómo se trajo todo esto?
—Catina se vino antes de la catástrofe. Unos meses antes.
—Anda ya..., ¿qué era, una bruja?
—Sí.
—¡Ya!
Libreta número siete. «Liebre al ajillo. Por cuatro libras de liebre...» Québien. Me gusta cocinar. Aunque después no las haga, me gusta guardar lasrecetas... Más abajo... «Glasada.» Una receta de Yulía. «Leche de cabra...,vainilla...»
—¿Qué es la glasada? —grité.
—Un helado.
Eso, ahora me pondré yo a hacer helado... Lo compro y listo... Mmm...¿Y aquí qué dice?... Código 14 (catorce). Un libro forrado con piel natural y cosido enel lomo con aguja espartera. Letras árabes. O puede que turcas. Unosdibujos diabólicos, un cuerpo sin cabeza. Debajo, un ojo con señales yunos arcos pequeños. Otro cuerpo, también sin cabeza, con agujasclavadas y explicaciones... Mmm... Muchas gracias por la herencia, tía...¡Te has lucido!
—¡Venga, mamá! ¿Y la comida? ¡Tengo hambre!...
Si mi madre no tuviera la manía de recoger toda la basura, tal comohacía su tía Eftalía, todas esas escrituras se habrían perdido. Si hubierancaído en mis manos, se habrían quedado para siempre en algúncontenedor, porque yo tiro toda la porquería sin pensármelo dos veces.Cuando murió la tía Catina, mi madre, por suerte, se encargó de limpiarla casa de Egina y de seleccionar sus cosas. Se limitó a pasar la fregona ya dar toda su ropa al monasterio de San Nectario, para los pobres. De todos sus chismes, guardó las libretas. Como buena guardiana de lasescrituras, las escondió con mucho esmero, con la orden expresa deCatina de entregármelos hoy, día 14 (decimocuarto) de septiembre, veintitrés añosdespués de su muerte.

"Βρε μαμα!" φωναξα.
Απο την κοουζινα ακουστικε τσιτσιρισμα κρεμμυδιου σε καυτο λαδι. Η μαμα ετοιμαζε κοκκινιστο με κοτοπουλο.
"Οι προσφυγεσ δεν ηρθαν τοτε χωρισ να προλαβουν να φερουν τιποτα."
"Ε"
"Το εικοσι δυο, λεω, οι ανθρωποι δεν εχασαν τισ περιουιεσ τουσ, Δεν τουσ πεταξανε οι Τουρκοι στη θαλασσα;"
"Ναι".
"Τοτε αυτη πωσ πηρε ηαζι τησ ολα αυτα τα πραγματα;"
"Η Κατινα εφυγε πριν απο την καταστροφη. Μερικουσ μηνεσ".
"Μπα!... Μαντισσα ητανε;"
Η μαμα φανηκε απο την πορτα. 'Εσκυψε στο ψυγειο να βρει μαιδανο, λεγοντασ πολυ φυσικα
"Ναι"
"Χα!"
Τετραδιο νουμερο εφτα. Λαγοσ σκορδαλεα. Για μια οκα λαγο... Καλο αυτο. Μ' αρεσει η μαγειρικη. Και να μην τα φριαχνω, τρελαινομαι να μαζευω σθνταγεσ... Πιο κατω... Γλασσαδα. Σθνταγη τησ Υουλιασ. Κατσικισιο γαλα... μια βανιλια.
"Τι ειναι η φλασσαδα;" τσιριξα.
"Παγωτο".
...Σιγα μην κατσω να φτιαξω παγωτο. Τ' αγοραζω ετοιμο... Μμ! Εδω τι λεει:... Κωδικασ 14. Βιβλιο καλυμμενο με φυσικο δερμα και ραμμενο στη ραχη με σακοραφα. Αραβικα γραμματα. Μπορει και τουρκικα. Ζωγραφιεσ διαβολικεσ. 'Ενα σωμα διχωσ κεφαλι. Αποκατω ενα ματι με σημεια και τοξακια. 'Αλλο ενα, ακεφαλο, με μπηγενεσ βελονεσ και εξηγησεισ... Μμ... Φχαριστω, θεια, για την κληρονομια... Με προκοψεσ!
"Αντε, μαμα! 'Ετοιμο το Φαγητο; Πεινασα!..."
Αν η μαμα μου δεν ηταν σαβουρομαζωχτρα σαν την προφεια τησ την Ευταλια, ολεσ αντεσ οι γραφεσ θα ειχαν ζαθει, θα ειχαν τσακιδιαστει δια παντοσ σε κανενα σκουπιδοτενεκε, αν επεφταν στα χερια μου, γιατι εγω πεταω ολεσ τισ σαβονρεσ, χωρισ να το πολυσκεφτω.
Μετα το θανατο τησ Κατινασ, η μανα μου, ευτυχωσ, ανελαβε να καθαρισει το σπιτι τισ οτην Αιγινα και να ξεδιαγεξει τα πραγματα τησ. 'Ενα σφουγγαρισματακι εκανε μονο κι εδωσε τα ρουχα τησ στη μουη του Αγιου Νεκταριου για τισ φτωχεσ. Μεσα σ' ολα τα τσουμπλεκια, εσωσε και τα τετραδια τησ. Φυλακασ των γραφων, τα εκρυψε επιμελωσ, με ρητη εντολη απο την Κατινα να μου τα παραδψσει σα σημερα, στισ 14 (δέκατος τέταρτος) του Σεπρεμβρη, εικοσι τρια χρονια μετα τι θανη τησ.

"Hallo, Mama!", rief ich.
Aus der Küche was das Zischen bratender Zwiebeln zu hören. Meine Mutter bereitetet Hühnergulasch zu.
"Kamen die Vertriebenen damals nicht nur mit dem, was sie am Leib hatten, nach Griechenland?"
"Was"
"1922 (zweiundzwanzig), meine ich, haben da die Leute nicht all ihn Vermögen verloren? Wurden sie nicht von den Türken aufs offene Meer hinausgejagt?"
"Ja."
"Wie hat sie es dann geschafft, all das mitzunehmen?"
"Katina ist schon vor der "Kleinasiatischen Katastrophe" abgereist. Einige Monate früher."
"Na so was...! War sie Hellseherin?"
Meine Mutter tauchte kurz in der Tür auf, beugte sich dann auf der Suche nach Petersilie zum Kühlschrank hinunter und sagte ganz selbstverständlich: "Ja."
"Also, hör mal!"
Heft Nummer sieben. Hase in Knoblauchsosse. Für ein Oka Hase... Das war gut. Ich koche gern. Zumindest sammle ich Rezepte, selbst wenn ich dann doch nicht so oft koche... Weiter unten... Sorbet. Julias Rezept: Ziegenmilch... eine Vanilleschote...
"Was ist Sorbet?", rief ich laut.
"Eiscreme."
Speiseeis selber zu machen hat mir gerade noch gefehlt... Und was steht hier?... Kodex 14 (vierzehn). Ein in Leder gebundenes Buch, der Buchrücken mit einem groben Pfriem genäht. Arabische Schriftzeichen, vielleicht auch osmanische. Teufelsillustrationern. Ein kopfloser Körper. Darunter ein Auge mit Punkten und Pfeilen. Noch ein Körper ohne Kopf, mit Nadeln gespickt un daneben Erläuterungen... Danke, Tante, für dein Erbe... Genau das, was ich brauche!...
"Beeil dich, Mama! Ist das Essen fertig? Ich hab hunger!"
Wäre meine Mutter nicht genauso eine Trödelsammlerin, wie ihre Grosstante Eftalia es gewesen war, dann gäbe es alle diese Schriften längst nicht mehr. Wären sie mir früher in die Hände gefallen, wären sie im Mülleimer gelandet, da ich alten Kram ohne langes Nachdenken wegerfe.
Nach Tante Katinas Tod hatte es zum Glück meine Mutter übernommen, das Haus auf Ägina aufzuräumen und Katinas Hab und Gut zu sichten. Einmal kurz Reinemachen, und die Sache war elreldigt. Die Kleider der Verstorbenen spendete sie dem Agios-Nektarios-Kloster für die Armen. Neben all dem anderen Krimskrams rettete sie auch Katinas Aufzeichnungen. Wie eine "Hüterin der Schriften" hielt sie alles beharrlich versteckt, bis sie mir die Truhe auf Katinas Wunsch hin heute, am 14. (vierzehnte) September, genau dreiundzwanzig Jahre nach deren Ableben übergab.

"Hadi anne, yemek hazır mı? Acıktım."
—¡Venga, mamá! ¿Y la comida? ¡Tengo hambre!...
"Αντε, μαμα! 'Ετοιμο το Φαγητο; Πεινασα!..." 
"Beeil dich, Mama! Ist das Essen fertig? Ich hab hunger!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------

What date is it?
It's 14th of September 1922

-Bugünün tarihi ne?
-14(on dört) eylül 1922 (bin dokuz yüz yirmi iki)
¿Qué fecha es?
Es el catorce de septiembre de mil novecientos veinte

Τι μέρα είναι;
Είναι στις δεκατέσσερα Σεπτέμβριου χίλια εννιακόσια είκοσι δύο.

Welches Datum haben wir?

 Es ist der vierzehnte September neunzehnhundertzweiundzwanzig

-----------------------------------------

And, as always, I learn more from parsing the sentences than from anything else. :-)

Eğer annem büyük teyzesi Eftalya gibi, eski püskü şeyleri toplamasaydı, bu yazıların hepsi şimdiye kadar kaybolup gitmişti.

Eğer annem toplamasaydı - if my mother had not collected
eski püskü şeyleri - old, tattered things
büyük teyzesi Eftalya gibi - like her great aunt Euthalia
bu yazıların hepsi - all these writings, texts
şimdiye kadar - by now, up until now
kaybolup gitmişti - had disappeared and gone.

Eğer  - if
annem  - my mother (anne-m)
büyük - big, large, major, great
teyzesi - her aunt (teyze-si)
Eftalya - Euthalía
gibi- as, like, such as
eski  - old, past, former, used
püskü - tattered, shabby
şeyleri - things, something, stuff
toplamasaydı - toplamak to collect,  past conditional, narrative, negative, 3rd sg.
bu - this
yazıların - writings - yazı+lar+in plural genitive
hepsi - all
şimdiye  - now
kadar - until, as, so, up to
şimdiye kadar means a lot of things, but basically by now, up until now, so far...
kaybolup - disappear, lost, fade away (kaybolmak) + -up suffix = and
gitmişti - have gone (gitmek) past perfect narrative, 3rd sg. "it assumable had gone"

Si mi madre no tuviera la manía de recoger toda la basura, tal comohacía su tía Eftalía, todas esas escrituras se habrían perdido.

Αν η μαμα μου δεν ηταν σαβουρομαζωχτρα σαν την προθεια τησ την Ευταλια, ολεσ αντεσ οι γραφεσ θα ειχαν χαθει, θα ειχαν τσακιδιαστει δια παντοσ σε κανενα σκουπιδοτενεκε

η μαμα μου - my mother
δεν ηταν σαβουρομαζωχτρα - was not a hoarder
σαν την προθεια τησ την Ευταλια - like the great aunt hers the Euthalia 
ολεσ αντεσ οι γραφεσ - the whole lot of writing
θα ειχαν χαθει - would have disappeared 
θα ειχαν τσακιδιαστει - would have been crapped, crushed, destroyed
δια παντοσ - forever
σε κανενα σκουπιδοτενεκε - in some garbage, waste, trashcan

Αν μαμα δεν ηταν,  οι γραφεσ θα ειχαν χαθει
if mama hadn't been, the writing would have vanished 

αν - if, whether
η - or, the
μαμα - mum
μου - my, me
δεν - no, not
ηταν - was 3rd sg
σαβουρομαζωχτρα - thing collector? hoarder? something like that.
σαν - like, as, as if,
την προθεια - the great aunt
τησ - her
Ευταλια - Euthalia
όλες - all, whole, entire, complete (acc. fem, pl.)
αντεσ - idiomatic injection - clear off, go on, come on, hurry up, seriously, let's
οι γραφεσ - writing (γραφή)
θα - particle - would
ειχαν - 3rd person plural imperfect form of έχω - have, be
χαθει - χάνομαι - vanish, disappear, perish - 3. sg simple future
τσακιδιαστει - crash? - τσακίδια seems to be crap, bugs to be crushed, trash
δια - for, by
παντοσ - everything, all
σε - in
κανενα - nobody/anybody κανένας acc.
σκουπιδοτενεκε - trashcan σκουπιδοτενεκές acc sg

Wäre meine Mutter nicht genauso eine Trödelsammlerin, wie ihre Grosstante Eftalia es gewesen war, dann gäbe es alle diese Schriften längst nicht mehr.

If my mother wasn't... then this would have happened.

Jos äitini ei olisi ollut tavarankerääjä, kuten isotätinsä Eutalia, kaikki nämä kirjoitukset olisivat kadonneet, heitetty menemään jo kauan sitten.

In Finland, we call hoarders hamsters, and the verb "to hamster" means "to hoard"

23rd of June, 2019

Played with Duolingo. Some people have treasure chests next to their names... I want one. Not going to happen with Hebrew, though, this is a bit too difficult for me at the moment. I'm not comfortable with the writing. I do wish this time I'll stay a bit longer, so that I get comfortable with the writing.
And READING the writing. This is one reason why I like Maltese best of the Semitic languages. Latin letters.

Jeg kan virkelig lide Dansk. Mængden af vokaler er spændende. Det er svært og det gør mig lykkelig.

Now, Arabic... it is difficult, but not because there would be anything difficult about the Arabic language. The pronunciation is OK, the grammar is relatively easy, the vocabulary is just as much a thing to memorize as in any language.  
The problem is the apparent lack of logic in how the language is being taught and presented.
As if the people who know it and teach it, don't understand there is NO LANGUAGE ON EARTH THAT IS NOT LOGICAL. As if "you just have to learn it", and I HATE that attitude. "It just is that way, don't ask."

Reminds me of my religion teacher. I asked what they meant with "The man has now become like one of us", and she told me that I shouldn't ask, the Bible is not logical and comprehensible, and there are these things in there, to test our faith. If we can believe everything without questioning, then we believe. And I went all Galileo. "I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect has intended us to forgo their use." 
I didn't SAY anything, but that was the moment I stopped trying to understand Christianity. 

Now... to have that attitude when it comes to religion and holy scriptures, I'm OK with that. But to have that attitude when it comes to languages... No.  

And then there's the alphabet order... Logically it should go
'alif, ba', jim, dal, dhal,
ha', waw, zayn, ha', kha',
ta', za', ya', kaf, lam, mim, nun,
sad, dad, 'ayn, ghayn, fa', qaf,
ra, shin, sin, ta', tha'
and not
'alif, ba', jim, dal,
ha', waw, zayn, ha',
ta', ya', kaf, lam, mim, nun,
sin, 'ayn, fa', sad,
qaf, ra, shin, ta', tha',
kha', dhal, dad, za', ghayn

The last letters are just thrown in the end, even when it's obvious they are related to the letters I put them next to, in, what to me is, a logical order. (Based on the ancestral alphabets.)
"It's because saad isn't derived from samekh, we don't have a samekh, so we put the siin in that spot and then saad... just somewhere."

Yes, I know, I'm being stupid, there's most certainly a reason to why they did it this way, and it's most likely better than mine, (even if for the reason that these are their alphabet, not mine), but I don't care. Arabic has become one of these "look at that bitch eating crackers as if she owned the world" kind of things to me.

(Well... it's not as bad as Aramaic... Those guys really let it get to their heads. I mean... if you have to tell people how your thing is the best evah and go so into pathos mode that you are crying you and your language are so poetic and amazing and best evah, and blend in God, too... I'll pass. Thank you.

I mean, see this: it's the "Aramean Syriac flag". I haven't seen many things as nazi as this. Now, it could be because I live where I live... in "Little Assyria". About 80% of people living here are Assyrian/Syriac with the "we built the Stonehenge and all the pyramids in the world and everything else, and we invented the wheel and all the languages and everything, and we were the first in everything, we!"and the Right Wing USonian Born-again Evangelical Christian "God is on our side and everyone else will burn in hell, and if I can help it, they'll do it today" attitude.)

Uh. On to Greek. I don't much like this language either, but it's easy. I already learned the alphabet in school for maths, and there's a lot of loan words in most languages from Greek. I also really want to read Mara Meimaridi's Witches of Smyrna and about Katina's Deck, and there's much more resources about that in Greek and Turkish than any other language.

Studied a bit Korean. That's really wonderful now when the net is full of resources :-D Thank you K-pop and K-drama! And thank you, fan girls. :-) I don't usually appreciate you much, but this you did well :-)

A little bit of Irish. Iiri as it's called in Finnish and Gaeilge (Irish pronunciation: [ˈɡeːlʲɟə]) in Irish.

A bit of Duolingo... I hate it that the "tree" gets unlit as time goes by without me being there, but... uh. I suppose it's as it is. We do forget.

But, here's something. It is religious. I assume Christian, but I see no reason why Dieu couldn't be any God. The lyrics are pretty easy, and just ignore the God part if you don't believe. And I like the song a lot.

Je ne suis qu'un homme, je suis comme toi, crois-moi!
Je pleure et je ris, je vi et je souffre parfois.
De ces mots si durs posés sur les murs de nos cœurs et nos vies
Derrière nos armures se cachent nos blessures qui étouffent nos cris
Je vois que tu crois que tout est fini pour toi
Je ne te laisserai pas t'en aller comme çà
On est tous pareils, on cherche l'étincelle qui embrase la vie
L'espoir qui éveille, qui donne des ailes, qui redonne l'envie
L'envie de vivre et de poursuivre
bien plus que survivre, retrouver l'envie de vivre

Un rêve brisé mais il te reste du temps
tout reste possible à celui qui croit vraiment
laisse-toi porter, laisse-toi aimer par celui qui détient
les clefs de la vie, l'amour infini, un nouveau lendemain
L'envie de vivre et de poursuivre
bien plus que survivre, retrouver l'envie de vivre

L'envie de vivre et de poursuivre
bien plus que survivre, retrouver l'envie de vivre

Ne laisse pas ton cœur sombre
Crois, oui tu verras si tu crois!
Renaître en toi, l'envie d'aimer
D'être là, d'être porté par la foi

L'envie de vivre et de poursuivre
bien plus que survivre, retrouver l'envie de vivre

Dieu donne l'envie, Dieu donne la vie
Bien plus il est la vie, mon chant, mon choix, mon tout, mon cri, ma raison de vivre
Bien plus il est la vie, mon chant, mon choix, mon tout, mon cri, ma raison de vivre

Dieu donne l'envie, Dieu donne la vie
Bien plus il est la vie, mon chant, mon choix, mon tout, mon cri

Dieu donne l'envie, Dieu donne la vie
Bien plus il est la vie, mon chant, mon choix, mon tout, mon cri,
Ma raison de vivre

Going through hiragana. And, you know how Duolingo works. One can guess a lot and then there's the "cheat" option - one can put the cursor on the words and get the meaning... so I do that a lot, in the beginning. Now, I don't know hiragana. Or so I thought. And then I caught myself reading it to figure out the right answer :-D Just to forget it in the next question and trying to guess again :-D Until I remembered that I actually KNOW this sign. :-D
But, no, Duolingo is NOT a good place to learn letters.

I like this one. I don't quite agree with the mnemonics, but most of it works beautifully. Really good, japanesepod101.com!
And after that Duolingo's Hiragana goes like a dance :-D A very nice companion, I have to say.
Anyway, now I know Hiragana, tomorrow I'm going to learn Katagana.
BTW, I am working with Kanji as well.

And I did one step of Spanish as well.
Antes de que alguien comente en mis múltiples idiomas, quiero decir que no estoy compitiendo. Estudio idiomas para mi propio entretenimiento y placer. No me importa la fama ni los títulos. No estoy vendiendo nada. No estoy tratando de lograr nada. No tengo plazos ni metas. Así que no importa si otros lo hacen de manera más eficiente o mejor. Bien por ellos. Me alegro por ellos. Estoy impresionado. Y luego voy a mis estudios estacionales y aprendo algo, o tal vez no. No importa.

So.... started a Memrise course for the sounds. Again, Duolingo launched a course without audio. :-( Bad Duolingo! Bad! I do hope they get Finnish with good audio, it's not that different!

Daily workout

Maltese. Why are you being so... unco-operative? I just want to learn you. Why is that too much to ask? I mean, I want to learn you so much that I'm willing to learn Arabic to learn you. ARABIC, for crying out loud! And you are just being stupid and mean. :-(

What I mean with this: għala bieb żobbi
It means "I don't give a damn". No fucks given. (għ is silent) Ok, I get it.
But - għala is why. Or... is it? It's hard to know. Basically, all we have is Google translate, and we all know what that is. Bieb is a door. Żobbi is dick. Ras żobbi is dickhead. Idiot. A very stupid person.
"Why door dick?" How... how do you get from that to "I don't give a fuck"?
And you can leave the door out. The Maltese people had a lot of fun when a Maltese teenager said "x'ala zobbi" when he was supposed to say "welcome" in Maltese. You see? Not one word of explanation. They just say it's "hilarious" and "cheeky". "Who gives a shit" isn't "hilarious" and "cheeky". It's rude. But - you see, bieb is optional.
In most languages the people find things like that about their mothertongue funny and are more than willing to tell all kinds of things about it to everyone who cares to listen. Just look at all the THOUSANDS of such things about Finnish naughty expressions. I have some in this blog. I mean... we just can't stop ourselves! But - the Maltese people, oh no. They want to have their language for themselves. :-(

Yes, I'm moping. You are being stupid and mean. :-(

I am so blessed to have a Danish husband. Danish language is notoriously difficult to pronounce. It's easy to learn, the vocabulary and grammar are like any Germanic language, no problems there. But the vowels... and stød.

Duolingo... I mean... *sigh* It's so nice they add all these languages, and I get really excited and jump straight in... and then... *sigh*
WE NEED THE PRONUNCIATION.
So, some kind soul has made a Memrise course in Duolingo Irish, simply because Duolingo is sloppy about the pronunciation. 

And... don't teach me biachlár and buachaill at the same time! I mean, is "a menu" REALLY one of the first words you need to know in any language? And wouldn't it really be enough to call it "menu" until you learn the "real" name? Which restaurant doesn't know what a "menu" is, and needs you to use the correct name for the thing?

Welsh is also not so good at Duolingo. :-( But - together with Memrise (or Memrise Decks, as it is, because the Duolingo courses are member created.) it will do.

The Memrise support for Hebrew is absolutely necessary! I hate it when Duolingo doesn't much care about the sound. :-(

So... I created my own Chinese course - as support for Duolingo and also for other things I thought of when trying to learn Chinese.