Talk time: Are you a pepper mill or a cowbell?

In recent months, we’ve discussed terms of greeting, and how “hello” isn’t really that old; we’ve explored insults, slights, and colourful ways of essentially calling someone stupid.

All of which got me thinking about terms for talking in general. There are vibrant metaphors, around the world, for the ways in which we communicate.

Let’s start with introductions… that aren’t going well.

A surprising number of cultures have a term for that sinking feeling of starting to introduce someone, and completely forgetting their name.
“Tartle”, the Scots call it (which is fittingly close to “startle”). In the Bemba language of Zambia, it’s “ciniweno”: literally, “thing, the name of which one does not remember”.
The Portuguese seem inclined to brush off the misfortune and move on. Joca (thingumajig or thingummybob), they say.
Some ancient languages have interesting terms for the mechanics of speaking too.
“Vovohetahtsenaotse,” in the Native American Cheyenne, is the act of preparing the mouth to speak, by moving or licking one’s lips.
“Dabodela,” in the Malagasy language of Madagascar, is the act of opening one’s mouth, moving one’s tongue, and still not being able to speak.
“Bunhan bunahan,” in the Bodo language of north-eastern India is the act of being undecided about speaking; literally, about to speak and also not about not to speak.
The Tsonga tongue of South Africa has the lyrical “byatabyata”; to try to say something but fail for lack of words
There are plenty of terms for people with the opposite problem.
“She talks like a pepper mill,” they say in Welsh, of someone who spits words out quickly and won’t stop.
“Nudnyi,” in Russian, is someone who, when asked how they are, tells you in great detail. (Oh, the horrors of this, in any language.)
“Hablar hasta por los codos,” in Spanish, is literally, “to talk even through one’s elbows”.
The kind of rapid-fire spiel used by certain kinds of telemarketers would appear to be timeless and universal. “Geop,” is Gaelic for fast talk that is largely unintelligible.
The mansplaining professor would seem to be a timeless trope too. “Tener papas en la boca”, in Chilean Spanish, indicates that someone is speaking in a stuffy and incomprehensible manner; literally “speaking with potatoes in the mouth”.
There are videos of both Donald Trump and Kamala Harris doing what, in Tsonga, would be called “poyipoyi”: talking at length but making no sense.
There are other rather endearing words for senseless talk: “hopohopo” in Finnish, “prietpraat” in Dutch, “bablat” in Hebrew.
Meanwhile, in Russian, someone who clangs on but never says anything of import is called a botalo (literally, cowbell).
The Germans are rather more blunt: “Ich verstehe nur wortsalat” means “All I hear is a word salad.” It is considered a rather powerful way to end an argument; said grimly, with a brief tilt of the head.
Now for the final set: There are two takes on random everyday conversation that I am particularly fond of.
In the Pascuense language of Easter Island, “anga-anga” denotes the feeling, perhaps groundless, that one is being gossiped about; but also indicates that this suspicion may be born of a person’s own guilt (how Shakespearean!).
And my favourite comes from Jamaica, where the patois “labrish” gently embraces gossip as well as jokes, songs and nostalgic memories. It can be anything, man!
(Adam Jacot de Boinod is the author of The Meaning of Tingo)