Cabinet

A blessing and a curse

I work in an institution sponsored by the Vatican, so a lot of my correspondence end with some sort of blessing. There’s a lot of “God bless you,” and “May the Lord be with you,” which are the typical ones I guess. Personally I go with, “Peace & love.” I like to keep it rock and roll. Anyway, I’ve noticed a lot of variety in my international encounters. More or less, it all means the same thing, but the delivery is interesting, especially in face to face conversations. There’s a French priest that likes to tell me simply, “God loves you.” I’m particularly fond of a traditional Irish blessing, which goes something like this:

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
And rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

It’s one of the longer ones, and definitely works better written than spoken, but it’s quite beautiful in a simple way. Blessings given by non-Americans make me think for a split second longer than the usual, “that’s nice.” They just seem more creative and personal, and I’ve been trying to incorporate this into my own language, though I just don’t seem to be quick enough. My automatic response to a sneeze is obviously, “God bless you,” but I really want to say something like, “God bless your nasal passage and face,” or something a little more specific, though I’m still working on it.

For those that don’t get blessed too often, another way to notice these cultural differences is to listen carefully when you act like an American in another country (listen to the insults). A short car ride with an Italian would make an English speaking sailor blush. Sometimes I concentrate and try to translate the obscenities literally, and it’s amazing how much thought goes into them. There’s even a term for that one guy who honks as soon as the stoplight turns green. When you’re riding shotgun, you can hear my friend mutter, “asshole of the light, take your wheel and put it in the hole in your ass, you pig of a whore with the head of a dick.” There may be some grammatical errors but the literal translation is more or less on point. I still believe that if I can hold my own in a heated argument, I’d consider myself fluent in Italian.

While I’m on the topic, I also want to share my thoughts on profanity. The word ‘fuck’ is uninteresting and I don’t think it deserves the shock factor associated with it in the media and to little children. The only reason it’s still offensive is because it’s restricted. It doesn’t really mean anything in the majority of the contexts it’s used in, and it’s something people say when they’re too lazy to really describe how they actually feel. This is the only real reason that compels me not to use it. It’s a lazy word. It’s not really funny, except maybe when it’s used ironically. That little flutter in your heart when you hear the word “fuck” should be saved for all the times you hear the word “love.” Did you know that the word ‘profane’ means “outside the temple” in Latin? I didn’t, and it blew my sexual-intercourse-having mind.

So, as we continue to use our profanities, I challenge everyone to get more creative with your insults, and be more accurate in describing your shitty day. It just makes for better conversation, I’m not really thinking of the children.

note: There’s a book by Steven Pinker that I’ve been trying to get a hold of, and it’s supposed to be a very interesting (and fun) read on language. Check it out at after the link.

link