MWW 20: Хашаа

Cyrillic	хашаа
Transcription	hashaa
IPA	[xa.ˈʃa:]
Layman’s Pronunciation	hah-SHAH
Translation	fence, yard
In Genghis Khan’s time it was qasiya.

If ингэ showed the ways in which Mongolian makes finer distinctions than English, today's entry is an example of when Mongolian conflates two concepts that are separate in English. In this case Mongolian conflates the term for an enclosure and the area enclosed. Хашаа can be translated as either "fence" or "yard."

Хашаа is undoubtedly related to the verbs хаших, "enclose, surround, shut in," and хашигдах, "be surrounded, be blocked," and the noun хашил, which seems to mean a million different things, including "quotes," "brackets," "hook," and "roadblock." Amusing, even though хашаа seems to be a noun derived from the verb stem хаш-, it's gotten re-verbed into хашхаалах "to fence, pen up."

This one has been awhile coming, because I've already used it in blogs before without explaining it. Whenever I've mentioned my "hashaa family," what I mean is the Mongolians I live with. Volunteers (except those city-slickers who have apartments) live in their own house or ger - but they live on someone else's land. Peace Corps always places you with some Mongolian coworker who happens to have an extra house or ger in their yard (which, of course, is completely surrounded with a fence). In my case I live on the property Munkhjargal, the social worker, and Enkhtuyaa, the primary school training manager, and their daughter Sainjargal. I live in one ger and they live in the other. Since almost everyone is in this situation, everyone from the country director on down freely drops the noun phrase "hashaa family," and everyone knows what we're talking about. But of course, outsiders don't. Now you know :)

Би Мөнхжаргал.ын хашаан.д амьдра.даг.
I Munkhjargal.GEN yard.DAT live.HABITUAL
I live in Munkhjargal's yard.

Хашаа бари.цгаа.я.
fence build.COLLECTIVE.VOLITION
Let's build a fence.

амьд хашаа
a hedge (literally, "a living fence")

MWW 19: Үгүй

Cyrillic	үгүй
Transcription	ügüi
IPA	[ʉɣwi] [ʉɣʉ:] [kw::::]?
Layman’s Pronunciation	oo-GWEE oo-GOO KKKKK
Translation	no; not; without
In Genghis Khan’s time it was ügei.

Since I already mentioned it in the post about тийм, let’s talk about үгүй. Үгүй is very interesting because in classical Mongolian, it appears to have a been a verb meaning “to have not” or “there is not.” Over the course of the next 800 years it has largely disappeared in that function but at the same time has evolved into a verb suffix, an interjection, a noun, a case ending, and a derivational suffix for adjectives.

The verb suffix

As a verb, үгүй took nouns as its arguments, not other verbs. So how did it get attached to other verbs? There’s a loophole here: verbal nouns. At some point, Mongolians began using gerunds a lot with this verb, eventually crowding out the old negative constructions, which apparently involved a preverbal particle үл. Үгүй’s invasion was highly successful, because now it’s the normal way of forming a negative statement. I’ve never heard anyone speaking normally say үл. In time, it was shortened simply to -гүй and joined to the preceding word.

One of the verbs that did this was the verb “to be / to have,” байх. Even though үгүй by itself had already been a negative existential verb, it contracted with байх to produce the new negative existential form байхгүй, “there is not, have not.” I usually hear this, instead of үгүй by itself.

The case suffix

Үгүй became a case suffix in pretty much the same way it became a verb suffix. It contracted with the noun in front of it as -гүй. In this way it acquired the meaning “without (NOUN),” and became a privative case suffix. It complements the comitative case, -тай, “with.” (The privative case is not usually mentioned in books about Mongolian, but believe me, it’s every bit like -тай, which everyone considers a grammatical case.)

Eventually a sentence like

Хонь үгүй.

sheep be-not

“There are no sheep.”

turned into

Хоньгүй байна. (alternating with Хонь байхгүй!)

sheep.without be

“It is without sheep.”

Notice that now байна has appeared. This is the non-past form of the verb “to be.” Mongolian usually omits the verb “to be,” allowing its meaning to be inferred from context. Presumably it worked the other way here. Once -гүй became reinterpreted as a case-suffix, Mongolians began to feel that there was a missing predicate and inserted “to be” where it never used to be.

The noun

As a noun it means “absence.”

Миний үгүйд олон хүн манайд очсон.

Many people came to my home in my absence.

The derivational suffix

From a case suffix -гүй has nearly become a derivational suffix. Here it is following the lead of the comitative case -тай. There are countless words ending in these suffixes which normally function as adjectives. Words ending in -тай can be compared to English adjectives ending in “-y,” “-ed,” or especially, “-ful.” Words ending in -гүй can be compared to English adjectives ending in “-less.”

The interjection

Үгүй is also the equivalent of English "no." Note that үгүй is not used to answer “no” when the question is one of identity. There is a negative copula, биш, which is used to answer “no” on such occasions.

Тэр Энх Тайваны Корпусын сайн дурын ажилтан уу?

Is he a Peace Corps volunteer?

Биш.

No.

(Also, remember from the previous word of the week that "no" and "yes" mean different things when answering questions containing a negative.) 

More expressions:

үгүй байх        “not be”            to be absent

үгүй болох      “not become”   to die

үгүй хийх       “not make”       to use up, destroy

үгүйсгэх          to deny, contradict

Гахай жил Их Хаан үгүй болов.

In the year of the pig, the Great Khaan deceased.

Interesting pronunciation notes

Mongolian has vowel harmony, which means that most suffixes (there are no prefixes) have either 2 to 4 alternative forms. The suffix гүй is one of the apparently exceptions. It is written invariably as гүй regardless of which vowel-harmony class it is attached to. Normally, we would expect it to become гуй if attached to words containing the vowels а /a/, о /ɔ/ or у /ʊ/. However, in informal speech, I’ve noticed, it does get changed. Language change in action!

Furthermore, here’s a funny note about how Mongolians pronounce the word “no.” Frequently it is not fully sounded out as [ʉɣwi]. Instead, it becomes more like an expressive noise than an actual word, sort of like the clicking sound English speakers make in disapproval. I'd transcribe it as [kxxxw] or something, but that's probably a bad way to do it. It's sort of like the kind of noise you make to imitate radio or TV static. I really need to get some sound samples up here somehow.

Spring has come

Spring arrived on March 15, five days ahead of schedule.

By Tsagaan Sar our yard was mostly free of snow, which I attributed to prolonged trampling, but aside from that the temperature was rising subtly, and then suddenly. The bare ground grew until it opened wide the week before the above date. Then I saw the thermometer in my ger get above 0 degrees during the day a few times. I thought it was the lingering warmth of the fire. When I came back from work one day I found a bag of fish hanging frozen in my ping ripped open, with half a fish on the floor. It turned out the cats had scented the thawing fish and jumped up to get it. Then I realized that the temperature was getting above 0 outside my ger too.

At the same time that it caused this problem, it solved another one: stuff freezing overnight. Stuff in my ger no longer freezes overnight. I also noticed that starting a fire no longer seemed as urgent; that I can see outside at 7 AM; and that I've sweated in my sleeping bag.

On Tuesday, March 13, it got up to 15 degrees. Just like October, now there was only snow remaining in sheltered spots. There were patches of slush and mud here and there, but the ground was mostly bare and dry. Frost came back though.

On March 15 while in my ping I felt warmth by my head and realized that the ping's metal roof had been warmed by the sun. Stepping outside, the sun felt warm on my face. In fact it was warmer outside than inside my ger.

"Spring is here," I said.

Of course, the next day it snowed. But it disappeared quickly. No snow is left in the open. I've discovered ice persisting in the hole beneath my outhouse, and under the blanket of sawdust by my woodpile.

We're now where we were in early September. Looking backing, it took much less time to warm back up than it did to cool down for winter. Cooling down took 2 1/2 months, but the transition to spring happened all within the month of March.

March 22: first day of vacation, third day of spring. Can you believe I've already been in Mongolia longer than I was in Japan? When I awoke about 9:00 the temperature was already above 0. For the first time in months, it wasn't necessary to make a fire. I ran outside to open my ger flap.

But if spring promised longer, sunny days, it also brought wind. After my rush outside to absorb the morning, the wind came, and then it was as chilly as winter. My bare hands became cold and stiff in a few minutes. Walking to school with air blasting in my face, unprotected skin became numb as easily as when walking in -20 degree stillness. Approaching the school the steppe was filled with a hollow roar like a ghost. Spring seemed as if it was not merely content that winter should go; it had to drive winter out.

On March 23 the atmosphere continued its war on the earth, beating it and ripping up layers of it in dust devils. The coal smoke from the school shot out at a 90-degree angle - no wait, now an 80-degree angle. The wind is even pushing the smoke against its natural tendency to rise. Avoiding the main blast, I walked in the narrow alleys among the houses. Nevertheless the wind, frustrated by the buildings, would send tendrils of air curling around the block and down the alley in the opposite direction. These played with the dirt, shaping it into the waves of a parched sea.

On March 25, the wind died down and stayed down, but for brief bursts.

The sun is always up before me now. 3 months ago, it would be rising as I walked to work. It sets at 7:10 now - an increase of 2 hours from midwinter. (I wanted to observe the sunrise and sunset on the solstices and equinoxes, but alas I've missed 3 already! The summer solstice happened soon after I arrived and I hadn't thought of it yet. And the winter solstice and spring equinox, of all the days in Mongolia, were overcast.) Furthermore it's moved farther north. It now sets next to a hill slightly behind my ger. It used to set in front of my ger next to a distant moutain range. In conjunction with this, the light coming in the top of my ger shines on my bed. On the other hand, my counterpart's classroom, which was warm in winter, is now colder. It faces the south and got ample sunshine in December and January. Now that the sun is much higher in the sky, it overshoots the windows.

On March 25, I also saw a fly in my ger for the first time in months. On March 26, it was dead in the water left in my tumpen. Despite not starting a fire that day, the temperature in my ger reached a sweltering 20 degrees (68 degrees F) by late afternoon!

MWW 18: Тийм

Cyrillic	тийм
Transcription	tiim
IPA	[thi:m]
Layman’s Pronunciation	TEEM
Translation	yes; that way, like that, such, so
In Genghis Khan’s time it was teyimü.

Тийм began life as a demonstrative adjective, meaning “that way, like that.” It still serves that function. But it also the normal way of responding affirmatively to a question “yes.” The closest equivalent in English would probably be sayng “It is so.” This is the normal way to respond “yes.” It is also the source of the expression,

Тийм үү?

Oh really?

Confirmation, not Affirmation

In Mongolian “yes” and “no” are used differently than in English. Normally тийм means “yes,” but sometimes it means “no.” It’s translatable as “no” when it is used to answer a negative question.

Өчигдөр хичээлд орсон уу?

Did you come to class yesterday?

Тийм (орсон).

Yes (I did).

but,

Өчигдөр хичээлд ороогүй юу?

Didn’t you come to class yesterday?

Тийм (ороогүй).

No (I didn’t).

In this case, the American says “no” because it echoes the negation in his answer. The Mongolian says “yes” because he is agreeing with the speaker, who asked a negative question. It works the same for Mongolian’s “no,” үгүй.

Өчигдөр хичээлд орсон уу?

Did you come to class yesterday?

Үгүй (ороогүй).

No (I didn’t).

Өчигдөр хичээлд ороогүй юу?

Didn’t you come to class yesterday?

Үгүй (орсон).

Yes (I did).

Out of the many differences between Mongolian and English which cause problems when Mongolians speak English, this tiny difference, which is never mentioned in any books for teaching English, is one of the worst. My counterparts, who otherwise speak great English and always communicate with me in English, continue to do this. And if I’m not careful about how I phrase a question, I’ll ask something like, “Didn’t you teach Lesson 3 on Tuesday?” and they will answer “Yes.” And then I still won’t know whether they taught Lesson 3 or not.

MWW 17: Салхи

Cyrillic	салхи
Transcription	salhi
IPA	[sæ.ɮjix]
Layman’s Pronunciation	SA-hlikh
Translation	wind
In Genghis Khan’s time it was salki.

The Mongolian spring is famous for wind!

салхитай

"with wind" = windy

хар салхи

“black wind,” tornado

далайн хар салхи

“sea black wind,” typhoon

салхин сэнс

windmill

салхинд гарах

to take an airing

намуун салхи

a gentle breeze

салхилах

to blow

салхивч

small window, windowpane, ventilation

салхины хурд

wind velocity

салхины чиг

wind direction

Wind kicks up dust

Wind damage to a ger

MWW 16: Хавар

Cyrillic	хавар
Transcription	havar
IPA	[χa.wǝr]
Layman’s Pronunciation	HAH-wer
Translation	spring
In Genghis Khan’s time it was qabur.

The upcoming улирал is хавар.

хаварших

to become spring

хаваржих

to pass the spring season

хаваржин

during / throughout the spring

хаваржаа
a nomad's spring camp

хаваржаалах

to pass the time in a spring camp (OR, to move to the spring camp?)

хаваржаандаа буух

to take animals to the spring camp (lit., "get down at one's spring camp")

Сайхан хаварж байна уу?

Are you passing the spring well? (a season greeting)

Early spring

Mid spring

MWW 15: Улирал

Cyrillic	улирал
Transcription	uliral
IPA	[ˈʊɬj.rǝɬ]
Layman’s Pronunciation	OOYL-ral
Translation	season; term
In Genghis Khan’s time it was …?

This word means “season” - such as spring, summer, fall, and winter - but has been generalized to mean various large divisions of the year, such as academic terms - and so it can also be translated as “term,” “quarter,” or “semester.”

улирал эхлэх өдөр

quarter day

хичээлийн улирал

school term (semester, quarter)

улирал бүрийн

quarterly (lit., "every season")