Читать книгу More TALES FROM THE PAST - Wilbur Dean - Страница 2

It seems that Newfoundlanders have a language all their own. Or should I say that each area of “The Rock” has its own language. There are as many dialects in Newfoundland as there used to be stages on the shoreline. All blended together they make for interesting conversations.

“Wad-e-at?”

“Nuttin’.”

“Got yer praddies sot yet?”

“Naw. Too much o’ dat friggin’ canka in da groun’, b’y.”

“Yes b’y. Dat’s fer shoa. Some wedda we’s ‘avin’, ay b’y.”

“Yes b’y. Yeah. But damarra might be a bit betta. Lard Jeez, b’y. Some starm down dere een da States w’at?”

“Don’t be talkin’. I spose we’s got a lot ta be t’ankful fer, ey. I’d radda be ‘ere wid no boots ta wea den be down dere gettin’ flooded out like dat all da time.”

That was a typical Hickman’s Harbour chat. And that conversation was one of the easier ones to eavesdrop on if you were a ‘come from away’ tourist visiting our Fair Isle. Wait ‘til you go to Bunyan’s Cove, Southport, or Ochre Pit Cove!

So, just for you readers who haven’t mastered our tongue, I’ll try to explain a bit about the linguistics you will encounter while reading my gibberish.

Now you should understand that some people on ‘The Rock’ have been educated in Proper English, having attended Memorial University of Newfoundland, College of the North Atlantic, Acadia University in Nova Scotia, and the like. It’s among the fishers, loggers, and island dwellers that you might get confused. In my writings I try to emulate the way people speak in a conversation, so some ‘chats’ may need a bit of clarification. Just remember that a school teacher talks much different than the students, especially in old Newfoundland. Same goes for a minister and the members of the congregation: One, a learned scholar; the other, not so much.

So here are a few guidelines to keep in mind as you read true Newfoundland prose, especially as it pertains to stories from yesteryear.

In some areas, like down in Bonavista North, people talk rather fast, and it seems that the words run together, like this: “E’sagoin’ out tadaFunk’s.” Translation: He’s going out to the Funk Islands. Or “Waddyaat,” translates to “What are you doing?”

In most cases th becomes d or dd. At the end of a word er becomes a. So there becomes dere. Father is fadda. Weather becomes wedda. Over there is ova dere.

In some instances the a is omitted. Again is agin.

Ing becomes in. Thus going is goin’.

H is often left out - like in ‘Ickman’s ‘Arbour - or sometimes added - like in Harnold’s Cove.

You also have to be on the lookout for strange ways of saying things. Like for instance, ‘What are you doing?’ becomes ‘Wad-e-at?’ in one cove, and just across the bay it could be ‘W’atsya doin’?’ or ‘Wassup?’

There are many other oddities in old Newfoundlande English, Newfoundlanders being a mixed breed of Irish, Scottish, Welsh and English. So throw in a few Portuguese, Norwegians, Frenchmen, and the like and you get a conglomerated figure of speech that is sometimes difficult for the masses to decipher. And it changes from one outport to the next, depending on the ingredients, like making a twenty-one layer cake: if you leave out one layer the texture and taste changes. Now how many different combinations can be made by omitting one, two, or three layers and rearranging them? That is how I would describe Newfoundland dialects.

Some scholars have tried to make sense of it all, even to the point of writing several books on the subject, but I don’t think they have it down pat yet. Neither do I. But as you read you will figure it out, I am sure. However, if you get too confused, I may be able to help you out. Just message me on my Facebook page, “TALES FROM THE PAST and other drivel”. Or you can e-mail me at normadean466@gmail.com Enjoy!