Depression - lost in translation

I've developed an unhealthy obsession with trying to compile a list of words/phrases in South East Asian languages that helps capture the essence of depression. A previous post on Begum Syndrome, touched on language and cultural barriers to interpreting and understanding complex symptom clusters and subsequently conveying a presumed diagnosis of low mood.

Drawing on my East African Asian heritage I discovered that the term often used in my community to describe depression is munjaro - a Swahili word which translates as cobweb - perhaps perfectly capturing the clouded perception and thinking that can take hold with clinical depression. However, in its original usage it was probably applied more to long term psychosis rather than the more subtle but equally pervasive depression.

If the Queen spoke Gujarati she might describe depression as manshik udashinta which I suspect may correlate with it's Urdu equivalent udasi (sadness) which doesn't really hit the spot.

Tellingly, the Royal College of Psychiatrists' patient info leaflet on depression (in Urdu) merely transliterates depression.

Has anyone had any success in coining an appropriate phrase? Which other languages pose a similar challenge?

[First posted here at doc2doc]

Definitely indefinite

In Arabic, nouns are presumed to be indefinite until made otherwise (usually with the addition of the prefix 'al' 'ad-dukhool al-alif wa al-lam').

In Farsi, nouns are presumed to be definite until made otherwise (usually with the addition of the suffix -y).

I like farsi

Learning farsi is such a refreshing break from the rigidity that gives Arabic its appeal but renders it incredibly demanding.

Take this construct for example:

chashm = eye(ball)
khanah = house, residence, dwelling

Therefore, chashmkhanah = eyesocket.

Genius.

Swahili for Beginners

Yale University's Kamusi Project provides a comprehensive beginner's guide to Swahili. My East African heritage probably lends an innate affinity to the language but even an objective outsider has to admit Swahili exudes a certain coolness.

Sijui kama tutaweza kumaliza kazi hii leo lakini tutafanya chini juu.
I don't know whether we'll be able to finish this job today but we'll try our level best.

Rafiki yangu ameanza kufuga ndevu.
My friend has started to grow a beard

Jipe moyo, mtoto atapona.
Take heart, the child will recover.

Alivyokunja uso niliogopa kuzungumza naye.
The way he frowned I was afraid to talk to him.

Nilijaribu kufuga kuku, lakini nimekula hasara - kuku wote walifufa.
I tried to keep chickens but I have suffered a loss - all the chickens died.

Niliota ndoto ya ajabu usiku.
I had a marvellous dream last night.

Lane's Lexicon

The prestigious (and prodigious) Lane's Lexicon - an extensive dictionary of the Arabic language started by Edward William Lane in 1863 and completed posthumously, by his nephew Professor S L Poole - is now online and avaialable for download.

Koftay and Candy Bars

I don't necessarily agree with the the following (as the logic seems to fall apart in the last paragraph via the presumption of ignorance) but it's a well intentioned piece from AH Cemendtaur. You can literally taste the bile!

Let me be very honest about this. While I am very easy to get along most of the time, I do have my pet peeves. And what irks me most are people who are not tasteful with their speech; that is, people that mix languages, and especially those who mix English in Urdu. You know the kind of people I'm talking about. People who would say, "Main wahan jaa raha thaa keh all of a sudden I saw a big truck coming my way. Achha, us truck kee khas baat yeh thee keh it was full of old lumber," and so on. Ugghhhh! Man, Do I barf at that?!

I know that it is very common for my countrymen to speak that way, but that doesn't stop me from despising this lingua spurious. I am from the school of thought that believes that when you speak one language, you should speak just that language--when you speak Urdu you must only speak Urdu, and when you speak English you must say everything in English. And my position on this issue is not based on some queer ideas about safeguarding the purity of languages.

As a student of linguistics I know that languages are constantly evolving, and that when a language stops evolving it dies. I know that languages become stronger when they borrow words from other languages. I understand all that. I am not against borrowing foreign words into Urdu. My objection is on speech that is just loose-tongued; my annoyance are the people who bastardize Urdu with English without giving any thought to what they are doing.

Click here for the full text.