It occurred to me after work yesterday that I am a polyglot. I was very pleased to discover this as it is a silly word and applying it to me just makes me more silly (and as my friends know, I am quite silly). My language abilities include English, German, French, Russian, and Afrikaans. Well... that is a bit of a lie: my English abilities and German abilities are (mostly) assured, my French abilities (as those in Geneva two weekends ago will testify) is limited to simple stuctures in the present tense, my Russian abilities are limited to saying where I live (and a repeating of the word for hedgehog), and I speak one sentence of Afrikaans. Perhaps they can all link together to make me a polyglot? I think so, and so do you.
My knowledge of etymology is a bit third-hand or pub-quizzy, and it was always where I fell down in essays at university - I was never able to exhibit such things as knowledge of language origin or history of being; it is what comes of being too tied up in experiencing people rather than tracts and theses. However, yesterday evening following the polyglot revelation, I found myself sitting in a bar in Piccadilly with my friends Lou, Nic, Kath and Rob. At one time we all worked in the same building and it cemented our bond of friendship: we would head to a bar regularly to discuss the problems with the company and the issues of the day. It has been a year and a half since we were all in the same building at the same time, but the bond of friendship is stronger than ever, and we still meet regularly (with Chrissy as well). In some ways we are older and wiser and nowadays discuss grown-up issues like relationships, marriage, mortgages*, and bathroom redecoration, but we still drink lots of wine and talk about sex and what's hot and happening.. almost a group Bridget Jones experience.
Why is that relevant to polyglots? Well, drinking wine is a big part of this relationship, and I was wondering why I never manage to have 'just the one' glass I intend (acknowledges Mrs Wembley). It is clearly because, when someone says 'let's have another bottle', I say, 'why not!' I then decided that actually when my friends call me a 'Wino', they must actually just be acting middle class (and Surbiton) and pronouncing Why not in a french accent. In fact, Wino is just slang for 'middle-class alcoholic'. Clearly if a polyglot (or poly-glow if you are Margot Ledbetter) is someone who can read/write/speak several languages, then a wino (derived from the expression why not) is someone who can open/drink/dispose of several bottles of wine!
I felt happier leaving Piccadilly having discovered that I was a Polyglot and a Wino, and having realised (for the latter) that it was because 'I'm just a girl who can't say no.'
So I came home to Walthamstow and went to the pub with a nice South African musician who is staying with us at the moment. We celebrated my self-discovery with a pint of beer.
* Isn't it interesting how the word mortgage contains the french word for 'death'. Answers on a postcard. Watch my etymology go (very wrong...)
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