Resfeber..

Some of the most serendipitous moments come when you find out about a foreign word that has no English equivalent. I've always found literary works in translation interesting in the way that words, phrases and sentences lose a lot of contextual meaning and implicit meaning when they are translated into English. To me, these words are keyholes into the priorities of a language-speaking race.

I came across a picture on the famous Humans of New York blog that said the following:

"English is a very precise language. I like to use it when I'm describing technical things. But when I'm talking about my feelings, I find it easier to use Spanish."
"Why is Spanish best for describing feelings?"
"Latin people have a lot of feelings. So they have a lot of words to describe them."

I don't think I need to analyse that... the man spells it out quite clearly. The Italians also have a word called "scordatelo" - a word meaning that's crazy, forget it. What does it show about Italians? Maybe that they are laid back and not so serious (hence Siestas?) or maybe that they don't like revolutionary things... Imagine...

Galileo: Hey dudes! I don't think the sun spins around the Earth!

Dudes: Ah Galileo! Scordatelo!

Of course, I don't really know which of the two (or others) it could be, but I'm sure someone from the area would be able to tell you.

Anyway, the word that I wanted to share is the word Resfeber - A Swedish word that I have been thinking about a lot over the past few days:

Resfeber (n): The restless race of a traveller's heart before the journey begins, when anxiety and anticipation are tangled together.

My heart is pumping with excitement at seeing and living yet another new place - this time the archaic city of London, but also pumping with the sadness of knowing that I leave place and people behind. It is always sad to leave a place, especially one like Greyton, where the barista at the best coffee jaunt knows your breakfast order, where you are known by almost everyone despite not knowing everyone back, and having friends who you hang around with almost day to day... The sadness comes from the unknown - the fact that you have no idea when or if you will ever see these people again. I certainly hope, and wish that I do. 

So as I peel off the photos that have been stuck on my room wall for two months, I think about the past two months and reminisce about how people have become such close friends over such a short space of time. 

I think about the memories that I will cherish then tell myself Scordatelo... don't start thinking about that yet, enjoy the remainder of the limited time and think of the memories when you are done making them.