Cognate Cognizance Podcast

infinitive — the basic form of the verb before it is changed for tense or subject (if you can put “to” in front of it, then it’s the infinitive form)

infinitivo — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning

In English class sometime in your past, you may have heard the grammar “rule” that tells you not to split an “infinitive,” yet you may never even have been taught what an “infinitive” is. Knowing what one is comes in very handy when studying Spanish, Italian, or many other foreign languages.

Verbs drive languages. They are the heart of every sentence. In fact, it’s not a complete sentence without a verb. You can have one-word sentences that are complete, but only if that one word is a verb. Listen. Run. Sit. Leave. And so on and so on. (That last sentence is not a complete sentence because it doesn’t have a verb!)

Fortunately, the word “verb” has very obvious cognates in both Spanish and Italian where the word is “verbo.”

Learning to correctly use verbs is how you become fluent in a language. You can memorize as many phrases as you like, but until you know how to use the verbs, you’ll never really understand the language. To learn verbs well in Spanish, you must learn the three “infinitivo” endings and then how those endings change when you conjugate the verbs to agree with their subjects and tenses. In Spanish, all “infinitivos” either end in -ar, -er, or -ir.

Thus, you have “hablar” for “to speak,” “comer” for “to eat,” and “escribir” for “to write.”

When I taught Spanish, I would also throw in an English grammar lesson about “infinitives” because my high school students had never heard of them. The rare student would know the grammar rule about not splitting them, but that student wouldn’t know what one was and why you shouldn’t split it.

In Spanish, it is impossible to split an “infinitivo” because it’s one word, but in English when we use the word “to” in front of the basic form of the verb to create an “infinitive,” then it’s easy to insert a word between “to” and its verb.

Example: “I want to really understand this.” The infinitive is now split by “really.” The correct way to say this would be “I really want to understand this.” However, all rules are meant to be broken, so this one often is, also. I wanted to explain it for you, though, if you never understood it.

Hamlet said it correctly when he soliloquized, “To be or not to be.” He didn’t split that second infinitive and say “To be or to not be.”

“Infinite” and “infinitive” come from the same Latin word, but their meanings are not similar. Sometimes I would joke, though, about the seemingly “infinite” conjugations that exist for “infinitives” in Spanish. The students didn’t really find that to be funny, but I did, and that’s all that mattered. Ha.

If you’ve ever tried to learn Spanish, French, Italian, German, etc., you have experience conjugating those “infinitives.” If you haven’t and never plan to study another language, try at least to understand what “infinitives” are in English. And try not to split them.

Thanks for joining me today. Until next time.

Tammy Marshall

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aviation — the act of flying by mechanical means in heavier-than-air crafts

aviaciόn — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning

These words come to us from the Latin word avis which means “bird.” In English, we use the first three letters to begin words that deal with flight. If you are an “aviator,” you pilot a plane, and thus you fly like a bird.

The Spanish word for bird is “ave.” “Ave” can be hard for students to remember because it looks nothing like our word “bird.” “Bird” comes to us from Old English, so it’s one of our pure English words.

However, for things that pertain to birds, we use the word “avian,” and a large enclosure to keep birds is an “aviary.” Since many of my students had visited the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha (one of the top zoos in the world) at some point, they were familiar with the large aviary at that zoo, so then they could equate “ave” with “bird” much easier. Others would think of “aviation” and how it involves flying like a bird, and then they’d be able to remember “ave” for “bird.”

Going back to the word “aviator,” you may not know that we also have the words “aviatrix” and “aviatress” to refer to female pilots. While I know that nowadays, we tend to neutralize words and call anyone who flies a plane either a “pilot” or an “aviator,” knowing that there is a feminine word for it can also help you remember that in Spanish all nouns have a gender, and when using one to name someone’s occupation or skill, you use the gender-appropriate word. Thus, in Spanish, a female “aviator” is an “aviadora” while a male one is an “aviador.”

“Aviation” can also refer to the manufacture of airplanes, the design of them, the operation of them, etc. No matter what aspect of “aviation” a person is in, though, that person is still manipulating man-made materials to ultimately fly like a bird — or “volar como un ave.” (See my earlier post on “volant” here if interested: volant)

Like “bird,” “ave” generalizes the animal. There are specific words in Spanish for every type of bird just as there are in English. Some of them are cognates, too. Here are a few: cόndor, canario, flamenco, pelicano, and halcόn (imagine the letter “f” at the start of that last one, and then you’ll see the cognate if you didn’t already). Most specific Spanish bird names, though, are quite different from the words we use in English, so if you are an avian enthusiast, you’ll have to look up the types of birds you like individually.

For example, out my window right now there are a bunch of robins hopping around my newly rained-on lawn in search of worms. The Spanish word for “robin” is “petirrojo.” The last part of that word is easy for me to remember because “rojo” is “red,” and the robins here are known for their red breasts.

The Wright brothers are credited with the birth of “aviation” as we know it today, but I like to give even more credit to Leonardo da Vinci for being such an amazing inventor and visionary. He came up with his ideas by studying birds after all.

Until next time.

Share with anyone you know who might like to improve his or her vocabulary through better cognate cognizance.

Tammy Marshall

Thank you for reading Cognate Cognizance. This post is public so feel free to share it.

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memory — a person or thing remembered (this is only one of the many definitions for “memory,” but it’s the one I want to use for today — Memorial Day)

memoria — the Spanish (and Italian) cognate of the same meaning (and others)

“Memory” and “memoria” come from the Latin word memoria, and you can see that it didn’t change its spelling in Spanish (or Italian). The Latin word was made from memor which means “mindful” or “remembering.”

There are many other words that come to us from memor. Today, for example, is Memorial Day in the United States. It is a day to remember those who have died while serving in our military. “Memorial” can be something commemorative or something that relates to our memory, or our ability to recall someone who is no longer with us.

In Spanish, there is an exact cognate for “memorial.” It is simply “memorial;” however, if you are referring to a physical thing, they do prefer the word “monumento,” but you can probably guess what that is in English.

I’ve visited many Memorials, from those at Arlington National Cemetery to the one created to honor the victims of 9/11 in New York City to the one for WWI veterans in Kansas City (pictured below) and many others.

Having a father who is a veteran, I’ve always treated Memorial Day with the respect it deserves, and today I am reading my poem about standing flag lines at military funerals at a Memorial Day service in Omaha.

If you would like to view the video on my YouTube channel of me reading this poem, click here: "I Stood a Flag Line Today"

We have many other words in English and Spanish that are related to “memory.” If we “memorize” something, we commit it to our memory for recall later. That Spanish cognate is “memorizar.”

If we want to make a note to remember something, we write a “memorandum,” which is usually shortened to “memo.” That is an exact cognate in Spanish but with an added accent mark: “memorándum.”

If something is easy to remember, we call it “memorable,” which is also an exact cognate of “memorable” in Spanish.

A “memoir” is a type of writing that deals with a person’s memories. In Spanish, though, they tend to simply call that an “autobiografía,” and I’m sure you can figure out what that is in English because it’s another lovely cognate.

I chose this word in honor of today being Memorial Day, but it’s another great example of the power of cognates to help you learn and then “remember” words as you try to learn a foreign language. You don’t have to completely rely on your “memory” to store all the new words when there are cognates of words already stored in your “memory.”

Until next time. Please share this with anyone you know who might be interested in subscribing.

Thanks.

Tammy Marshall

Thank you for reading Cognate Cognizance. This post is public so feel free to share it.

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odious — hateful or deserving of hatred

odioso — the Spanish and Italian masculine adjective cognates of the same meaning

odiosa — the Spanish and Italian feminine adjective cognates of the same meaning

Knowing the adjective “odious” in English makes learning a common Spanish infinitive so much easier. The Spanish verb for “to hate” is “odiar.” In Italian, the verb is “odiare.” The Spanish and Italian verbs come from Latin’s odisse, but our English word of hate comes down to us from a long journey that began prior to the birth of Old English even.

I guess that goes to show that “hatred” has been around a long time; after all, it is a basic human emotion.

In English, the two words that we have borrowed from that Latin word of odisse are “odious” and “odium.” “Odious” is more commonly used, in my opinion, as well as its adverb of “odiously” and its noun of “odiousness,” but I like the word “odium.” “Odium” is hatred, but it’s a step beyond hatred. If you have “odium” toward someone, you also have contempt and detestation toward that person.

This cat’s expression is similar to the look I give the one person to whom I bear “odium.” See that contempt there in the cat’s face?

I know it’s not nice to hate anyone, but it’s also difficult not to hate a truly “odious” person. And as I mentioned above, if you are knowledgeable of our word “odious,” it makes learning “odiar” for “to hate” a simple feat.

When conjugating “odiar,” the first form of it is “odio.” In that case, “Odio” simply means “I hate,” but it is also the Spanish and Italian cognate for “odium.” In Latin, “odium” is odium.

When learning Spanish, you will encounter “odiar” somewhat early, depending upon the course and/or textbook. I believe that I was familiar with “odiar” in Spanish before I ever encountered “odious” in English, but since I already knew “odiar” and its forms, it made learning the word “odious” quite easy.

Making cognate connections between two or more languages is something I enjoy. It isn’t “odious” in the least for me.

Until next time.

Tammy Marshall

Thank you for reading Cognate Cognizance. This post is public so feel free to share it.

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testament — a will or legal disposition of one’s personal property

testamento — the Spanish cognate of the same definition

In English, we more often use the word “will” instead of “testament,” but if you know “testament” as its synonym, then it’s easy to learn the Spanish word for “will” which is “testamento.” In English, the word “testament” has gained more of a religious association, but the word began in Latin with testis which meant “witness.”

When you make a covenant, or testament, with God or make a will, or testament, you are bearing witness to your promises or desires. In English, we commonly use the verb “testify” in court or legal proceedings. Its Spanish cognate is “testificar.”

Going back to the word “witness,” its Spanish translation is “testigo.” Clearly, these are NOT cognates, but you can see how similar the word “testigo” is to “testify.” That’s because they are related and have that common Latin ancestor.

“Witness” has survived from Old English almost completely intact, which is a rarity. In Old English, it was spelled with only one “s” — witnes.

A “testimonial” is a written declaration of recommendation, and “testimony” is a statement under oath giving proof or evidence of something. In Spanish, those have cognates of “testimonial” and “testimonio.”

Now, if you make a will, or a testament, you are a “testator.” In Spanish, you would be a “testador” if you are a male and a “testadora” if you are a female. Interestingly, there is a feminine word for a “testator” in English, too. It’s “testatrix.”

Perhaps you’ve been wondering about that Latin root word of testis. Maybe you’ve been thinking, yet hating to admit you’ve been thinking it, that a “testis” in English is just another word for a “testicle,” so you may be wondering if there is a connection.

Yes, in fact, there is. “Testis” and “testicle” are cousins of “testament,” “testify,” etc. I’ve read conflicting accounts as to why the word began being used for part of the male anatomy, but many say that it’s because a “testis” essentially bears witness to a male’s virility.

I cannot “attest” to the complete validity of that, though. Yes, “attest” is also related. It has a Spanish cognate in “atestiguar,” in which you may see that the word for “witness” — “testigo” — is in that infinitive.

Going even further back, these words all originate in the Latin, and Spanish, word for “three” which is “tres.” The “witness” who would give “testimony” was an impartial “third” party.

If you enjoy receiving “Cognate Cognizance,” please share it with someone else who might want to enhance his or her vocabulary. Thanks.

Tammy Marshall

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arbiter — a judge or someone who can decide the outcome of a dispute

árbitro — the masculine Spanish noun of the same meaning

árbitra — the feminine Spanish noun

When learning Spanish, I came upon “árbitro” in the vocabulary for sports because it’s the word for “referee.” I was young then and hadn’t had any contact with the legal system yet, so I couldn’t make the connection and had a hard time remembering the word “árbitro” for “referee.”

It didn’t stick, but years later, when I was teaching Spanish and the word “arbitration” had been drilled into my head due to a conflict between the teachers’ association and our administration, the vocabulary word of “árbitro” came up again.

Lightbulb moment for the young teacher I was then. It all made perfect sense to me then.

Our word, “arbiter,” comes to us intact from its Latin root of arbiter. In English, though, we tend to use the word “judge” when referring to courtroom decisions and “referee” or “umpire” when referring to sporting arena decisions. In Spanish, the word “juez” is typically used to refer to the courtroom judge, but “árbitro” is used for the referee.

This makes sense because in its Latin meaning, an arbiter was an onlooker who could make a decision, and that’s essentially what a referee or umpire does, whereas a judge in a courtroom hears evidence of things that are well in the past.

Its verb form of “arbitrate” has a cognate in Spanish, too. It’s “arbitrar.” “Arbitration” isn’t a solid cognate, but it’s close with “arbitraje.”

Oddly, though, our most commonly used form of this word is “arbitrary,” but we’ve shifted the meaning of this word in the opposite direction and given it a sense of randomness instead of judiciousness. That sense of the word is still in the meanings listed in dictionaries, but it’s a secondary meaning rather than the primary one as it originally was.

I attend a lot of sporting events, and sometimes it can seem that the arbiters’ decisions or calls are much too arbitrary. I try to give them the benefit of their years of experience, but even I’ve been known to boo a few times at them. We’re all guilty of being armchair or bleacher arbiters at times.

For now, you be the “arbiter” and decide if your cognate cognizance is improving. I certainly hope it is.

Until next time. Feel free to share this with others who might like to improve their vocabularies. Thanks.

Tammy Marshall

Thank you for reading Cognate Cognizance. This post is public so feel free to share it.

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supplicate — to humbly and earnestly ask for something

suplicar — the Spanish verb cognate of the same meaning

Both these words come from Latin’s supplicare which means “to kneel.” Another version of asking humbly or earnestly for something happens when one kneels to pray. Thus, when you kneel and pray, you become a “supplicant,” or one who is humbly and earnestly asking for something. In Spanish, that is also a handy cognate of “suplicante.”

“Supplication” which is the act of humbly asking for something also has an easy-to-remember and recognize cognate in Spanish — “suplicaciόn.” The adjective “supplicatory” has its male and feminine cognate counterparts of “suplicatorio” and “suplicatoria.”

Since these words all derive from a Latin verb for “to kneel” in which a person must “bend” to do that act, perhaps you won’t be overly surprised to learn that the word “supple” is closely related to “supplicate.”

Most of the time, we use this word to indicate that something is flexible or bends easily. If you look up the Spanish translation of “supple,” you will get “flexible,” which is also a handy cognate for our “flexible.” However, other definitions show that “supple” also means that one is compliant and obsequious.

If you are obsequious, you are essentially fawning all over the person to whom you are being obsequious because you want something from that person, or this could also describe the manner in which some people approach the act of supplication.

Obsequiousness has a negative connotation, though, because it’s usually describing a sycophant type of follower instead of a leader, but if you know other Spanish vocabulary, you might know the verb “seguir” which means “to follow” and maybe you see a form of it within “obsequious.” But, I digress.

In closer relation to “supple,” you can also be a “suppliant” which is simply a different word for “supplicant,” and you can use “suppliance” which is simply “supplication.”

I hope you are becoming more “supple” with your vocabulary skills as you continue to receive “Cognate Cognizance.” Thanks for being a subscriber.

I’m going to supplicate here just a bit and ask you to please check out my other “newsletter” called Tomes and Topics here: Tomes and Topics. I’m attempting to create a number of memoir-styled pieces, each around a different topic, and pair them with other writings I’ve done, from poetry, to advice, to fiction, to blog posts, etc. I hope to integrate some video as well if I’m approved to join the beta testing of that. You can see some of that information for free, but there is a portion of each reserved only for paid subscribers, so please consider giving it a try if only for a month. Thanks.

Until next time.

Tammy Marshall

Thank you for reading Cognate Cognizance. This post is public so feel free to share it.

defile — a verb meaning “to march in a military line”

desfilar — the Spanish verb and cognate meaning “to parade past”

Unlike English, the Spanish verb isn’t reserved for military processions, and for that reason, it is much better known and much more commonly used than its English cognate. In fact, when you read the title of this entry, I doubt military parade marching even entered your mind, and you may have been quite confused by my subtitle. In English, when we hear or read the word “defile,” we think of much darker things than a military procession marching past us.

To help change that, here is the adorable elephant parade from “The Jungle Book.”

Elephant parade

In Spanish, the word for “parade” is “desfile.” In all the years I taught Spanish, that word was always difficult for me to process with my students. It seemed odd that “desfile” meant “parade,” and I didn’t bother to look into it. Then, a month or so AFTER I left teaching, the light bulb went on for me when I was reading a passage in a novel in which some military men “defiled” past a building in which the protagonist was housed.

I recall my mouth literally dropping open as I slapped my forehead in sudden insight as well as disgust with myself. Those men were marching in a “single file!”

One of the meanings of “file” in English when used as a noun is “a row” of things, and when it is used as a verb, “file” also means “to march or proceed in a single row.” That’s why we say things like, “they filed past me.”

Ugh! Aarrgh! I was so mad at myself for not seeing the connection between “desfile” and our very common usage of “single file.” After all, I was a teacher for 30 years! How often did I tell students to do that very thing — “Stand in a single file, kids.”

“File” as well as its Spanish cognate of “fila” for “line” or “row” come from Latin’s filare which means to string things onto a single wire and thus create a single row of them. From that concept, you also get “defile” in English and “desfilar” in Spanish.

And from that, you get the Spanish noun of “desfile” for “parade” — that event where everything from military people to marching bands to clowns march past us in lines, or files.

I much prefer this processional definition of “defile.” However, after defiling past their spectators, many parades defile the streets with all the candy, horse droppings, and other detritus left behind in their wake.

Until next time. I hope I have improved your cognate cognizance. Additionally, I’m still trying to build my subscriber base for “Tomes and Topics,” so please give it a read and consider subscribing for 6 dollars a month or 60 dollars a year, which gives you two free months. Here is a link to it: Tomes and Topics

Thanks.

Tammy Marshall

silva — the forest trees of a region

selva — the Spanish cognate meaning “forest” or even “jungle”

“Silva” and “selva” both come from Latin’s sylva which means “forest” or “wood.” While the word “silva” isn’t used very often in English, the adjective of “sylvan” is quite well known.

I’ve been spending time lately in a sylvan part of the country as I’m in Tennessee, surrounded by the woods of the Appalachian Mountains. In fact, a few days ago, I took a hike along a portion of the Appalachian Trail that passed through a lovely sylvan area before I came out onto a windy, treeless mountaintop. The above photo is one I took along that trail.

One of our U.S. states has a version of “silva” in it. Hopefully it has popped into your head already, but if it hasn’t, the name of the state means “Penn’s woodlands.” Yes, Pennsylvania is a combination of the surname of Penn and the word “sylvania” which indicates a wooded or forested area. If you’ve ever driven across Pennsylvania on Interstate 80, as I have, you’ll know that it’s a VERY heavily forested state.

Transylvania simply means “beyond or across the forested area.” While it’s probably best known as being the homeland of Dracula in Romania, there are places in the United States called Transylvania, too. I’m betting they are near or beyond some forested areas.

I’m quite drawn to sylvan areas even though I also love the sea. Walking through a forest is so peaceful, and one of my favorite poems is by Robert Frost. It’s called “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.” I’ll share it here.

Whose woods these are I think I know.

While you can put many interpretive spins on this poem, outwardly it exudes a lovely sylvan image that I enjoy.

If you know anyone named Sylvia or Silvia, that name comes from the Latin word of silva, so that name simply means “of the forest.” My best friend is Silvia, and she lives in Mexico in the Yucatan part which is covered with a tropical jungle, or “selva tropical.”

If you study Spanish, the word “selva” comes up a lot in readings, so being able to associate it with our word “sylvan” while perhaps also learning the new word of “silva” makes it easy to remember.

Now that springtime is upon us, the trees are regaining their leaves, so go out and enjoy whatever sylvan area is nearest to you.

Until next time. Please share “Cognate Cognizance” and encourage others to subscribe. Thanks.

Tammy Marshall

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cinch — a strap that goes around a horse to hold the saddle on

cincha — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning

We took our English word of “cinch” from the Spanish word “cincha,” but they both hearken back to Latin and the verb cingere which means “to gird,” or “to encircle and bind.” Thus, the reason for the medieval torture device once worn by women called a “girdle,” but I digress.

Knowing “cincha” from “cinch” or vice versa makes learning two very useful Spanish words quite easy. Those words are “cintura” and “cinturόn.” Hopefully, you are envisioning things that encircle because if you are, you are halfway there in learning these words.

“La cintura” is your “waist” or the part of your body that encircles your lower torso. When we talk about someone’s waist, we understand that it goes completely around the body. Your belly stays in front while your ass hangs out in back, but your waist gets to visit both. So the word “cintura” is used in Spanish to refer to that part of the body that encircles it, and it’s a feminine word no matter the gender of the person to whom it is attached.

“El cinturόn” is the Spanish word for “belt.” A belt, as you well know, encircles your body at your waist. If you don’t know this, you are probably wearing it wrong.

In English, we actually have a wonderful cognate for “cinturόn.” Do you know what it is?

It is “cincture.” A “cincture” is a belt, usually one worn by priests or monks on their robes, but it is a belt, nonetheless.

Another useful word in Spanish is “cinta” which usually refers to some type of tape, but it can also refer to a “headband” which is essentially a ribbon or band that encircles the head.

The word “gird” goes back to Old English, but we English speakers are more likely to say that we are “cinching our belts” rather than girding them.

Apparently, we started saying that something was a “cinch” meaning that it was easy or surefire in reference to the physical “cinch” and its easy ability to keep the saddle on the horse. It’s a rather odd expression when you think about it, but I know I’ve used it many times over the years.

I hope these weekly posts are helping to make learning words more of a cinch for you. If they are, please share them with others and encourage them to subscribe.

Until next time.

Tammy Marshall

Thank you for reading Cognate Cognizance. This post is public so feel free to share it.

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