November 19, 2011: Cognate troubles

I fiddled around the house much of the day. I’ve been in the process of transferring this blog from WordPress hosting to GoDaddy hosting, for greater customizability and whatnot. Many repetitions of: click something on the computer, wander away, and read while it sorts itself out.

V. gave me a chicken-hamburger with rice, which was juicy and delectable. It took me four tries to figure out what she was offering, as hamburguesa is of course pronounced without the ‘h.’ It’s interesting how, when learning languages, it’s often harder to recognize English-esque words than it is to recognize foreign words. Perhaps your ear is listening so hard for the other language that it rejects the possibility that this could be a cognate of a word you already know. (I encountered this a lot in Hindi, too. “दो पेंस / d̪o pens? Whatever could that mean? … oh. Tuppence.”)

In the evening, I went to the hostel where R. works — an elegant building on the edge of one of Valpo’s hills, with views of the bay and the cargo containers. R. cooked dinner for M., B., a German girl, and myself, and we sat together and joked about our adventures the previous night. We spent some time on her front patio, which was bitterly chilly, but had a marvelous night-ocean view. After our low-key dinner, I decided to head home: a little too tired for further nightlife.

The view from R.'s balcony.

4 thoughts on “November 19, 2011: Cognate troubles

  1. If you need any help moving over to a self-hosted domain, and are looking for help (important distinction there =), feel free to ask. That’s what I did for a living for 8 years. Database migrations, cpanel, plesk, hosts files, password protected files, yada yada.

    1. Hmm… I’m not sure if I’m fancy enough yet for self-hosted domains. But thank you for the offer. If anything goes weird with the transfer I just made, or anything explodes, then I shall come galloping to you begging for aid. :)

  2. Okay. I’ll be slightly off to the side of the road, underneath a red plaid umbrella, with a book in my hand. I will look up from my book from time to time to see the far off landscape skirting the edges of the undulating pasture in which I sit. Clouds parade across the sky like fuzzy white animals. If I see your horse (or perhaps could it be the same mule who shared your coffee plantation experience?) kicking up dust on the road, I will wait quietly til you slow down and ask me for help. Then I will offer you some fine fare from my picnic basket, and let you eat while I code for you on my little laptop.

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