Na’viteri.org

And now it’s my great pleasure to announce the First Place Winners of the Na’vi Writing Contest:

(Fanfare, please . . . )

Beginners Verse: Tìrey Tsmukan

Advanced Verse: KalaKuival

Advanced Prose: Ataeghane

As before, the winning entries are below. And what beautiful work this is. (We even have rhymed verse! Tewti!)

Irayo, ma pxesmuk, ulte seykxel sì nitram. Pxengeyä tsulfä lì’fyayä leNa’vi oeru teya si.

P.

__________

Beginners Verse First Place (Tìrey Tsmukan)

Oe lu numeyu leNa’vi, oe zola’u alìm. Oe ke zola’u kea tìtslamhu, oe ‘ì’awn fte nivume frakrr.

Oe lu numeyu leNa’vi, lì’fya ‘erong, tsawl sleru na syulang na’rìngkip lì’fyayä. Hì’i ulte kea ralhu.

Mi fì’u lu tìngäzìk ke, talun ayoengal tsa’ut tse’eia. Ayoeng plltxe sì pamrel si, uteri atsawl hì’isì.

Ayoengal kame lì’fyati, ulte tsawmì slu tsawl, kxawm fpi tìyawr, kxawm ke. Slä ayoeng frakrr tsun livatem.

Ro fìtseng ayoeng ultxarun, ta seng atxan zola’u. Ayoengit zamolunge tì’awsitengìl, ne ‘uo anawm.

Ayoengal kame futa aylapo a perlltxe, teri ayoeng na sute ‘äpolia. Slä ayoengal tìng nariti Smukanur set, ulte Smuke za’u, Ulte ayoeng käpame fra’umì na Ävätar, zìlya’u fte kame krr Eywasì; set ayoeng tslam.

Ayoeng tok fìtseng fte nivume, ayoeng zola’u alìm. Ayoeng ke zola’u kea tìtslamhu, ulte ‘ì’awn fte nivume frakrr.

__________

Advanced Verse First Place (KalaKuival)

Fìlì’fya suneiu oeru nìtxan.

Fko tsa’uri syaw leNa’via pum.

Nivume tsa’ut lu oeyä tìkan.

Ke nìtam tsa’uti oel ke omum.

Peseng tsun oe nivume? sìk pawm fko.

Tsun oe mivok san leiu ‘awa tseng

alu nume lì’fyat leNa’vi, txo

tsulfätu nga new livu sìk oe peng.

Fìlì’fya lu lor, tì’efumì oey:

Frapam lam ‘ango oeyä mikyunur.

Oel fpìl futa tsa’u nìngay lu swey.

Irayo sayi oe frakrr ngopyur!

Hufwa fìlì’fya ngäzìk tsun livu,

tsunslu fì’u a livu tsulfätu.

__________

Advanced Prose First Place (Ataeghane)

‘Okvur lì’fyayä leNa’vi

Nìawnomum, lora lì’fya leNa’vi ke tsivun livu luke txantsana rel arusikx TseymsìKameronä. Fìrel eltur tìtxen sarmi ulte var, ngian aysuteori lì’fya sarmi nì’ul. Pxaya stawnarsìma tute lenomum sngolä’i nìwin pivängkxo teri lì’fya sìreysì Na’viyä. Fwarmew nìno fo ulte frafya’oti sìpängkxoä eana fayswiräyä atsawl ftivia fmarmi.

Ye’rìn tsamaw, ngaya aynongyu kifkeyä alu Eywa’eveng tsarmun pivlltxe fìlì’fyafa sì tslivam fìlì’fyati taluna ke narmìn fol aysìngäzìkit a za’u hola lì’uta sì hìma tìtslamta ayrenuä lì’fyayä. Nìk’ong stawnarsìma ayupxare ta Karyu Pawl nìlaw srung soli ayoengaru. Fayul lì’fyat txarmula tafral set tsaw awngaru smon.

Awngakip lu sute a vivewng veiar pongut aynumeyuä. Hufwa pxaya tute sngalmä’i tìsopit ne kifkey ayhorenä sì aylì’uä ulte maw trr ahol ftolang, lu mi aysute a pamrel si fte srung sivi aysngä’iyur sì ayeylanä eltur tìtxen seykivi lì’fyat leNa’vi.

Fpìl oel futa txo ayoeng fmayi, tsayun veykivirä fìlì’fyat alor. Set suneiu nìtxan ayrenu awngar ulte lu aylì’u nìtam fte pivängkxo txeleteri letrrtrr. Ayoeng tsun slivu nawma lì’fyaolo’ – nivume zene nì’aw. ‘Ivong Na’vi, ma aysmuk!

As everyone knows, December 21^st is a significant date–it’s the winter/summer solstice. But much more importantly, it’s also the birthday of learnnavi.org!

To celebrate LN’s first anniversary, several members of the community proposed and implemented a Na’vi Writing Contest.

The judges were Wm. Annis, Prrton, and Lance R. Casey—and their decisions are now in!

It gives me great pleasure to announce the Second Place Winners:

Beginners Verse:  Reyona te Tsateka Ray’i’itan

Advanced Prose: Futurulus

Their winning entries are reproduced below.

Seykxel sì nitram, ma meylan! Mengeyä tìkangkxem txantsan lu nìngay.

Congratulations!

I’ll announce the first place winners in the next post.

P.

_____________

Beginners Verse, Second Place (Reyona te Tsateka Ray’i’itan)

 (The author wishes to acknowledge help from Tirea Aean.)

Hahaw ma oeyä ‘eveng
Trr’ong zìya’u
Zamerunge trr amip

Hahaw ma oeyä ‘eveng
Txon ‘ayi’a
Txonä tìvawm kalmä

Hahaw ma oeyä ‘eveng
Tsawl slu win sì tstew
Na nangtang na’rìngä

Hahaw ma oeyä ‘eveng
Tsawl slu txur sì txantslusam
Nga layu taronyu

Hahaw ma oeyä ‘eveng
Ulte ‘awa trr
Nga layu ‘itan Omatikayaä

_____________

Advanced Prose, Second Place (Futurulus)

San Kxamlä menari tsun fko vitrati tsive’a sìk.  Fìfya plltxe fkol ‘awa lì’fyavit leÌnglìsì.

Slä kxamlä menari tsun fko tsive’a peut nìngay?  Ngay lu fwa ke lu kea mesute a mefor lu aynari ateng.  Slä ke latem nari.  Aynaril wìntxu ‘ut ateng frakrr.  Nìnari ke latem vitra kawkrr srak?  Tengkrr ‘eveng tsawl slu, tsawl slu peyä ronsem, nìtengfya tsawl slu peyä vitra.

Fra’ul a fko nolume tsat, fkot sloleyku tute aketeng nì’it.  Leratem vitra nìlkeftang.  Slä ke latem nari.  Ha srake kxamlä menari tsun fko vitrati alusatem tsive’a nìngay?  Txokefyaw, kxamlä peu?

Lì’fya.  Kxamlä lì’fya tsun fko vitrati stivawm.  Lì’fyal wìntxu ronsemit nìwotx.  Lì’ut fkol solar a krr, tsalì’ul wolìntxu hapxìti vitrayä.  Mipa lì’ut fkol nolume a krr, tsalì’u slolu hapxì vitrayä.

Ulte mipa lì’fyati fkol nolume a krr, tsalì’fya slolu vitra amip nìwotx.

‘Ivong ayvitra amip.  ‘Ivong Na’vi!

Kaltxì, ma oeyä eylan!

Contrary to rumors that I have fallen off the face of the earth, I’m happy to say I’m alive and well, if a bit damp, here in Los Angeles. My three months of heavy travel—September through November—are now history. The revisions for the fifth edition of the linguistics workbook I’ve co-authored, Looking at Languages, which is due out next year, are almost complete. (This edition will include two Na’vi exercises.) And I’m looking forward to returning to my blog and being in closer touch with you all.

I thought you might be interested in a few highlights of my travels.

SEPTEMBER: Europe
I spoke in Stockholm at the Bonnier GRID 2010 conference, a two-day event for employees of the multi-national Bonnier Corporation. The theme of the conference, “It’s all about passion,” fit in well with the development and growth of Na’vi. After a wonderful week in Stockholm during which I met members of the Swedish Na’vi community, John and I headed to Copenhagen for five days and then flew to Paris for another ten.

OCTOBER: U.S.A.
The month kicked off with the now-legendary Ultxa a mì Na’rìng—the Meeting in the Forest, hosted at the beautiful sylvan home of Prrton and Yotsua in northern California. Ever since, I’ve proudly ended my talks about Na’vi with pictures and stories from that event, including an analysis of Po täpeykìyeverkeiup nìnäk* that some of the attendees had come up with. Audiences are always impressed with the creativity and exuberance of the community.

My next event was in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where I spoke at the annual Oklahoma Conference in the Humanities and met some great members of the community as well. Then it was off to Rochester, New York for the 45^th reunion of my undergraduate class at the University of Rochester. I was one of the guest speakers, and the audience was extremely enthusiastic, which was gratifying. (My undergraduate college career was hardly distinguished, yet I was given the royal treatment on my return to campus 45 years later. It’s remarkable what an association with Avatar can do!)

After visiting my piano teacher from college days in central New York, I flew back to Los Angeles to take part in a Fox media event promoting the Collector’s Edition of the Avatar Blu-Ray and DVD. They had invited about 60 members of the press, both domestic and international. We creative types were divided into teams, each one staying at its station while the journalists rotated around in groups of six to eight to hear the presentations. I was paired with Dr. Jodie Holt, the botanist from the University of California, Riverside, who had named and described the plants in the Pandoran forest. We did our joint talk no less than ten times; the last time around, Jodie half-seriously suggested that we exchange roles, with her talking about the language and me about the plants—that’s how familiar we had become with each other’s presentations!

It was good to see James Cameron again, whom I hadn’t talked to since the end of 2009. He looked great—fit and trim (I believe he had dropped 30 pounds) and relaxed. At the time, I learned what I’m sure you all know by now: there will indeed be Avatar 2 and 3, which are slated for release in 2014 and 2015 respectively. A reporter asked whether we could expect Dr. Grace Augustine to make a miraculous reappearance; Jim smiled and answered cryptically, “Well, no one in science fiction ever dies.” Beyond that, I don’t know any more than you do about the new scripts. But I’m keeping my fingers crossed that there will be some Na’vi in them and that I’ll be re-invited to participate.

My final talks of October were back on the east coast, at Wellesley College in Massachusetts. Wellesley is an all-female university . . . and what an impressive place it is. In the morning I had the great pleasure of talking to a linguistics class devoted to created languages, I believe the only such class in the country! The students were extraordinarily engaged and engaging; the professor, Dr. Angela Carpenter, had put together a rich course that they clearly loved. As a semester project, each student had to make progress in developing her own conlang, and at the start of the class, I was greeted in 16 different artificial languages, along with kaltxì, which they had all practiced. In the evening, I spoke to a more general audience of about 250 people. Unfortunately the technology failed and my PowerPoint couldn’t be projected onto the screen, so I had to wing it, which was a challenge. But all in all I think things went well.

NOVEMBER: Australia and New Zealand
We spent three and half weeks Down Under, a great trip. I spoke twice—first at Monash University in Melbourne and then on the west coast, in Fremantle (close to Perth), at the biennial conference of AUSIT, the Australian Institute of Interpreters and Translators, where I was the keynote speaker. I usually begin my talks by plunging into a Na’vi greeting (typically: Kaltxì, ma oeyä eylan. Oel ayngati kameie nìwotx. Furia fìtsengit terok fte tsivun ayngahu teri lì’fya leNa’vi pivängkxo, oeru prrte’ lu nìngay) and then explaining what I just said. This time, though, before I got up to speak, an elder of the Noongar group of indigenous people opened the conference with a beautiful—and long!—bilingual blessing, half of which was in fluent Noongar. When it was my turn, I had to acknowledge that what they were about to hear might not sound very impressive after that.

The rest of our time in Oceania was pure vacation. In addition to Melbourne and Fremantle, we toured the west coast wine-growing of Margaret River; then Sydney; then a hop over to New Zealand for five wonderful days on Waiheke Island, a little piece of heaven 35 minutes by ferry from Auckland; and then back to Melbourne before heading home to L.A. In most of those places we connected with friends we hadn’t seen in years, all of whom were extremely generous with their time and hospitality.

While in Melbourne I did several interviews for Radio Australia. If you have 15 minutes, you might like to listen to this one with Maria Zijlstra of the Lingua Franca program. In my second interview with Maria, we talked not so much about Na’vi but rather about the kinds of things I generally find the most fascinating about language.

Let me conclude by congratulating Sebastian and everyone else involved with the amazing LearnNavi.org on the site’s first anniversary. (More about that in the next post.) And to the many people who have written me e-mails and haven’t yet received a response—thank you all for your patience, and I hope to catch up on my correspondence soon.

Hayalovay, ma frapo.

ta Pawl

*The canonical translation is, “I’m so jazzed that he may be about to drink himself to death.”

Edit: error correction–nìnäk. Also, please note that in the Lingua Franca interview I mentioned, I mangled the name of the book I was referring to: It’s Through the Language Glass, not Through the Looking Glass. (Deutscher points out some strange things about language, but he’s not Lewis Carroll.)

Just a couple more conversational expressions.

The usual response when you’re introduced to someone new is, of course, Oel ngati kameie, ma ____. But in addition you can say:

47.  Nice to know you.
Smon nìprrte’.

To ask how to say something in Na’vi:

48.  How do you say X in Na’vi?
X nìNa’vi (slu) pelì’u?

Note that slu ‘become’ is used here rather than lu. But it’s frequently omitted in conversation.

Finally, to let someone know there’s no rush, that it’s OK to go slowly and take time (not just in speech but in any activity):

49.  Take your time; don’t rush. Slow is fine.
Ke zene win säpivi. ’Ivong nìk’ong.

In conversation, säpivi is usually pronounced spivi. (The main stress in the sentence, however, is on win.) The second sentence is proverbial—literally, “Let it unfold slowly.”

A word on initial glottal stops:

The comments were perceptive. It’s when something precedes the initial tìftang that you hear it clearly.

Take ’eylan ‘friend’ vs. the short plural eylan. If you say the words in isolation, I doubt there’s much of a distinction, if any. But put them in phrases like (1) oeyä ’eylan and (2) oeyä eylan and you hear the difference. In (1) there’s a sharp break between the words; in (2) the words flow together smoothly with no break.

Sivop nìzawnong, ma aysopyu. 😀

Kaltxì nìmun, ma oeyä eylan.

Here’s the third and final part of the conversational material. Ideally I’d space all of this out a bit more, but I wanted to make sure the people would have it who are participating in the Na’vi workshop up in northern California this weekend.

Thanks to everyone for the supportive comments and great questions! Sorry I haven’t yet been able to answer them all.

By the way, if anyone lives in or close to Tulsa, Oklahoma and is free the evening of Thursday, October 7, I’m speaking at the Oklahoma Conference in the Humanities, and it’s open to the public free of charge. Za’u kaltxì si ko!

(If you’re wondering about that structure: Two verbs back-to-back without a conjunction indicates that they’re performed in sequence: come and (then) say hello.)

MORE ON BASIC INFORMATION

To ask someone’s identity (in person, on the phone, etc.):

31.  Hi. Who are you? OR Who is this (that I’m speaking to)?
Kaltxì. Ngenga lu tupe / pesu?

This is one place where the honoric form of the pronoun is standard. Nga lu tupe? could be heard as aggressive and challenging; to make it clear the questioner is being friendly, the honorific is used. The response, however, reverts back to the ordinary pronouns: Oe lu Txewì.

As in many earth languages (although not English), to ask someone’s name you don’t normally say the literal equivalent of “What is your name?” In Na’vi that would be Ngari tstxo lu pelì’u? It’s not wrong, but there’s a more idiomatic way to ask the question:

32.  What’s your name:
Fyape fko syaw ngar?

Literally, this is, of course, “How does one call you?” or “How do they call you?” The answer is:

33.  My name is Txewì.
Oeru syaw (fko) Txewì.

Getting back to age, if someone has asked you how old you are and you’re having trouble calculating it in octal, you can buy a little time with an expression that’s useful in lots of situations:

34.  Just a tiny moment. I’m thinking.
’Awa swawtsyìp. Oe fperìl.

It would be a good idea, though, to have that number pre-calculated, since you don’t want people to think you’re not sure of your age. 😉 (Grammar: If you’re wondering why there’s no case marking on swawtsyìp, it’s because the phrase is short for ’Awa swawtsyìp livu oer rather than ’Awa swawtsyìpit tìng oer.)

LEISURE TIME

I’m indebted to Prrton for the material in this section, which I think is particularly rich.

35.  Who do you typically hang out with / spend time with?
Nga pesuhu käteng nìtrrtrr?

• käteng [k••äteng] vi. ‘spend time with, hang out with.’ No implication of dating or romance—simply passing time with friends.

The next example introduces the important intransitive verb ’ìn, which is not only used by itself but also has many derivatives. (We already met one of them, kan’ìn, in Part 1.) ’Ìn means ‘be busy, be occupied’ and is neutral with respect to emotional impact. See below for derivatives of ’ìn that are slanted positively or negatively.

36.  What’s been keeping you busy lately?
’Ìn nga fyape nìfkrr?

Literally, “In what way are you busy lately?”

Some derivatives of ’ìn:

• sulìn [s•ul•ìn] vi. ‘be busy (positive sense): be engrossed in something one finds especially pleasant and energizing’

37.  He is overly engrossed in his music (and I’m displeased about it).
Pamtseori po sulängìn nìhawng.

• vrrìn [v•rr•ìn] vi. ‘be busy (negative sense): be tired out and overwhelmed by an activity that’s keeping one busy’

38.  I was completely swamped (overwhelmed) at work.
Tìkangkemìri varmrrìn oe nìwotx.

39.  His work is still completely overwhelming him (and I’m glad).
Peyä tìkangkemìl mi veykrreiyìn pot nìwotx.

• tìk’ìn n. ‘free time, the absence of ’ìn’

40.  What do you do in your free time?
Tìk’ìnìri kempe si nga?

• säsulìn n. ‘hobby, pleasure-yielding activity’

41.  I practice my hobby, which is archery.
Oe tskxekeng si säsulìnur alu tsko swizaw.

To express the idea of fun, we use the adjective ’o’ ‘bringing fun, exciting’ and its derivatives.

42.  Sports are great fun.
Ayuvan letokx ’o’ lu nìtxan.

Some derivatives of ’o’:

• tì’o’ n. ‘fun, excitement’

43.  What is your favorite way to have fun?
Tì’o’ìri peu sunu ngar frato?

• nì’o’, adv. ‘ ‘funly,’ in a manner that is very enjoyable’’

44.  Studying Na’vi is a ton of fun for me.
Ftia oel lì’fyati leNa’vi nì’o’ nìwotx!

Finally, to say you’re good or bad at something, use the respective transitive verbs fnan ‘be good at’ and wätx ‘be bad at’:

45.  Are you good at Na’vi?
Srake fnan ngal lì’fyati leNa’vi?

46.  No, I totally suck at it, but I still love it to death.
Kehe. Slä hufwa oel (tsat) wätx nì’aw, tsalsungay yawne lu oer nìwotx!

Sìlpey oe, zaya’u trro a tsun awnga nìwotx pivlltxe san fnan oel nìngay lì’fyat leNa’vi sìk! 🙂

Kìyevame, ma eylan.

This post continues the conversational theme. Here we’re beyond the introduction stage and beginning to find out things about the person we’re speaking with. Thanks again to Prrton for his great work on this.

First, some useful expressions to help out generally in oral communication:

WHEN YOU’RE STUCK OR DON’T UNDERSTAND

11.  Sorry, I didn’t get that. Could you repeat it, please?
Hìtxoa, ke tslolam. Rutxe liveyn.

The transitive verb leyn means ‘repeat, do again.’ It’s applicable to any action or activity. For example, a mother can say to a naughty child who’s just been chastised for a misdeed, Rä’ä liveyn! ‘Don’t do that again!’ In the context of a conversation, it’s understood that the action in question is speaking, so you’re asking the speaker to repeat the last thing he/she said.

For added politeness:

12.  I didn’t quite understand. OR I may not have understood.
Ke tslolatsam.

The response on the part of the repeater is:

13.  Sure. (Gladly. With pleasure.) What I said was . . .
Nìprrte’. Poltxe san . . .

If you need clarification:

14.  Could you make that a bit clearer? Could you explain that further?
Tsun nga law sivi nì’it srak?

To ask the meaning of something specific:

15.  What does X mean?
Tsalì’uri alu X, ral lu ’upe?

This actually means, of course, ‘What does the word X mean?’ If it’s not a word but a phrase you’re after, substitute tsalì’fyaviri for tsalì’uri.

A shorter and highly colloquial version of 15 is acceptable in informal circumstances:

16.  What does X mean?
X-(ì)ri peral?

Finally, what happens if you’re groping for a word or expression that’s not there, and no circumlocution comes to mind? Assuming you share another language with your audience, rather than having communication come to a screeching halt it’s better to insert the needed word or expression in the language you both know into the Na’vi sentence, preceded by nì’Ìnglìsì, nìFranse, nìToitsye, nìTsyungwen, etc. E.g., Sunu oeru nì’Ìnglìsì basketball nìtxan. (Of course, if you were Na’vi, you’d be more likely to pronounce “basketball” something like päsketpol, so that would be fine in this context as well.)

INITIAL CONVERSATIONS

17.  Tell me a bit more about yourself.
Nga läpivawk nì’it nì’ul ko.

18.  Tell me all about yourself.
Nga läpivawk nìno ko.

The adverb nìno means ‘in detail, expansively, thoroughly.’ The root on which it’s based, no, conveys the idea of fine detail. It’s not used by itself in modern Na’vi, but certain forms derived from it are found in the lexicon. Examples:

• hìno adj.      ‘fine, detailed, precise, intricate–(of things)’
  Pol ngop frakrr sìkenongit a hìno lu nìhawng.
  ‘He always creates excessively detailed examples.’
• leno adj.      ‘thorough, detail-oriented–(of a person)’
  Leno lu Loak nìtxan.
  ‘Loak is very thorough.’
• tìno n.         ‘thoroughness, attention to detail’
  Längu tìkangkem feyä luke tìno.
  ‘Unfortunately there is no attention to detail in their work.’

The polite expression for “may I ask” is Ätxäle si oe pivawm, literally ‘I request to ask.’ (In an early version of the Avatar screenplay, the newly-arrived Norm is talking to a Pandoran for the first time in his overly formal, stilted Na’vi, and says: Ätxäle suyi ohe pivawm, peolo’ luyu pum ngengeyä? ‘May I ask what tribe you belong to?’)

19.  May I ask who the people in your family are?
Ätxäle si oe pivawm, ngari soaiä ayhapxìtu lu supe?

A couple of things to note here: First, the genitive of soaia ‘family’ is irregular: soaiä (not *soaiayä). Also, supe is ‘who (pl.)’—i.e., ‘what people’ as opposed to ‘what person.’

To ask someone’s age:

20.  How old you are?
Ngari solalew polpxaya zìsìt? OR Ngari solalew zìsìt apolpxay?

Literally, this is: ‘As for you, how many years have passed?’ Note that polpxay, ‘how many,’ behaves like an ordinary adjective.

In conversation, the age question may be shortened in several ways. The following are all possible, with decreasing formality as you move down the list:

• Ngari solalew polpxay?
• Ngari solew polpxay?
• Solew polpxay?

As you see, if zìsìt will be understood from the context, it can be omitted. Also, in quick, casual speech, solalew reduces to solew, just as palulukan reduces to palukan. These reduced forms, however, are not used in written Na’vi except when you want to reproduce the effect of casual speech. (Compare “going to” vs. “gonna” in English.)

To answer an age question:

21.  I’m 24 years old.
Oeri solalew zìsìt apxevol.

Shorter, more colloquial versions:

• Oeri solalew pxevol.
• Oeri solew pxevol.
• Solew pxevol.
• Pxevol.

22.  Where are you from?
Nga z(ol)a’u ftu peseng / ftu tsengpe / pesengeftu / tsengpeftu ?

The choice between za’u and zola’u depends on the context. Zola’u is correct in all cases. However, if the question is a general one—“Where’s your hometown?”—then za’u is sufficient. But if the intention is “Where have you come from (to attend this gathering)?” then zola’u is required.

23.  I was born in a town near the ocean, but I now live in Hometree.
Oe ’olongokx mì sray a txampayìri sim, slä set kelku si mì Helutral.

The intransitive verb ’ongokx [’•ong•okx] means ‘be born.’ It’s a compound of ’ong ‘unfold, blossom’ and nokx ‘give birth to,’ where the internal ngn cluster has reduced to ng:
*’ongnokx > ’ongokx. (Note also that proper nouns are subject to lenition just like common nouns: mì Helutral.)

An example of nokx used by itself:

24.  Mom gave birth to my new sister yesterday.
Sa’nokìl oeyä tsmuket amip nolokx trram.

To ask about someone’s occupation or central activity:

25.  What is your primary role (in society)?
Ngaru lu pefnetxintìn nìtrrtrr?

Nìtrrtrr obviously means ‘on a daily basis, regularly.’ (Compare letrrtrr.) Pefnetxintìn, though, requires some explanation. Its first two morphemes (minimal elements of meaning) are clearly pe ‘what’ and fne ‘kind (of).’ But what about txintìn? It’s a compound noun derived from the adjective txin ‘main, primary’ and the noun tìn, ‘activity that keeps one busy.’ So txintìn could be glossed ‘occupation’ or ‘primary role in society.’

Some possible ways to answer the question:

26.  I am a student / hunter / warrior / teacher / cook.
Oe lu numeyu / taronyu / tsamsiyu / karyu / ’emyu.

27.  My central societal occupation is to catch fish.
Oeyä txintìn lu fwa stä’nì fayoangit.

28.  I look after the infants.
Oel vewng frrnenit.

The transitive verb vewng means ‘look after, take care of, be responsible for.’

29.  I tend to the refuse.
Oel vewng aysngelit.

30.  I see to it that the children learn about the forest plants.
Oel vewng futa ayeveng nivume teri ayewll na’rìngä.
(Note that this person does not necessarily teach the children regarding the flora, but makes sure that the teaching is taken care of whether he/she instructs directly or not.)

Edit 30 Sept.: Two minor typos corrected.

Kaltxì, ma eylan. And hello from Copenhagen, where we’ve spent 4 rainy but very interesting days.

My talk in Stockholm at the Bonnier GRID 2010 conference is already online: if you’re interested, you can find it here. I’m afraid it’s nothing you haven’t already seen. I went way over the time limit, but so did a lot of other presenters, so I don’t feel too bad about that. And I got some nice comments from several attendees.

On another note, I know several of you have already seen this article on how language shapes thought that appeared in the New York Times a few weeks ago. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it. There’s a lot there that’s relevant to Na’vi.

We’re off to Paris in a little while, where hopefully I’ll have more time to stay in closer touch.

Makto zong!

ta Pawl