Those Finnish Schools

The June 2010 issue of The Finnish American Reporter had an interesting article, first in a series on traditions and customs of milestone events in Finland, called "Graduation day 'caps' a student's academic career." As many people probably know, Finnish is a non-Romance language, but many Finns themselves love Latin. I was interested to read the sidebar attached to the article on the basics of baccalaureate. To quote the sidebar: "The grades are –from top to bottom—laudatur (L), which can be given to only 5 percent of students; eximia cum laude approbatur (E); magna cum laude approbatur (M); cum laude approbatur (C); lubenter approbatur (B); approbatur (A); and improbatur (I), which indicates you didn't pass the exam."

How interesting are those grades! Not being familiar with baccalaureate in all its various forms, including the International Baccalaureate (IB) program, which can be found in some US schools, I was interested in the levels and descriptions. A quick dash through the internet leads me to conclude that this system is mostly used in Finland. I like the distinctions that are made: (L): he/she is praised; (E): he/she is approved with excellent praise; (M): he/she is approved with great praise; (C): he/she is approved with praise; (B): he/she is approved gladly; ( A): he/she is approved; and (I) he/she is not approved/rejected. Of course, the verb could be interpreted impersonally to indicate that the exam paper is accepted or rejected. Just another interesting instance of ongoing Latin in the wide world.

In the stream of traffic

Well, you can't make this stuff up. On Friday afternoon, May 28th, as I drove along a back road on my way to beautiful Dutchess county, New York, I stopped behind a Lexus carrying two kayaks on its roof. I saw that the one on the right was an Acadia, but the one on the left was called a Dirigo. As I sit at my trusty computer looking into Dirigo kayaks, I discover that there is a model called a Dirigo Tandem, and as I continue to search around for information I find another kayak model called a Pungo, and then a wooden canoe model called a Molitor. On the same page as the Molitor, my ever-wandering eye spied an ad for a company called ExOfficio Clothing-Footwear-Gear, and when I clicked on this ad, I found an ad for Give-N-Go underwear which is treated with Aegis Microbe Shield. Wow! These adventure-outdoor outfitters are some Latin and Greek aficionados!

Dirigo is the motto of the great state of Maine, home of the manufacturer of Dirigo kayaks. In Latin dīrigō (3) means (literally) I rule in different directions, or simply, I direct. As the easternmost state, Maine receives the early morning sun first, and so in a way Maine "directs" the nation. Applied to kayaks dīrigō is a fitting name. Tandem applied to vehicles usually means a two-seater or a double-tractor-trailer; tandem in Latin means "at last, finally," which looks as if it derives from tam so + īdem, eadem, idem the same, or the same amount again.

Pungo also is a good name for a kayak, as the sharply pointed bow of the boat punches through the water; pungō (3) means I prick, sting, pierce. The past participle is punctus, a, um whence English puncture and punctuation, the latter of which is a constant sting to proofreaders the world around.

Molitor is a fabulous name for a canoe, and the photograph of the Molitor model that I saw online shows a beautiful and cleverly constructed boat. In Latin a mōlītor, mōlītōris m. builder derives from the verb mōlior, mōlīrī, mōlītus sum I labor at, work, build, devise.

Ex officio is a Latin phrase meaning from one's duty or position, so that a person who sits on a board ex officio is present as a result of the position he/she holds. But as the name of a clothing-footwear-gear provider, the phrase also could be interpreted to mean "out of the office," as in, let's get out of here and go climb a mountain, shoot some rapids, or camp out under the stars. Finally Aegis as a brand name is a mythological reference to the breastplate of the goddess Athena/Minerva, probably originating in a goatskin, but offering strong protection to the wearer/bearer.

I almost fear to go back to my researches, because I really do need to get my day started! But I am delighted to find so many classical allusions in the world of the adventurers.

A-musing car in Rome

I found a photo I took in Rome in the summer of 2008 (above) of a Renault model that I have never seen in the US. I wonder why the manufacturer decided on the name Clio, the muse of history. Any ideas? It is a cute word, and although you can't see the whole car in the photo, it is also a pretty cute car, especially in its new incarnation.

Vitamin Bottle Latin

This morning as I shook out the last fish oil capsule in the jar, a little packet with the brand name Dessicare also fell into my hand. Aha! I said! Latin! The Latin verb dēsiccō, dēsiccāre I dry, drain gives us the present participle dēsiccāns, dēsiccantis drying which in turn becomes the English word desiccant, something which dries out or keeps dry. So the little packet of moisture absorbing powder or crystals was helping to keep my capsules dry. I love beginning the morning with a little Latin!

An Early Encounter with Latin

Recently I have been reflecting that there was a time in my life when I did NOT know Latin. I began studying Latin as a junior in high school, so for the first sixteen years of my life, I was Latinless. One of my first encounters with Latin was the song O Caritas by Cat Stevens, a song from the album Catch Bull at Four which was released in the early 1970s. The song is hardly uplifting, but I liked it then and I still like it, and how many rock songs can you sing that are in Latin? You can hear the song and watch English lyrics here, and then check out the Latin lyrics.

Digging in the Dirt

This past Sunday found me catching up on some magazines, including the February edition of The Field, an English publication. A one-page interview with garden expert Alan Titchmarsh contained the Latin phrase infra dig, short for infrā dignitātem, Latin for "beneath one's dignity." Mr. Titchmarsh was reflecting on his early career in gardening, and commented that such a career was considered less dignified than other professions. Mr. Titchmarsh went on to host a very informative and entertaining television program on BBC-TV called Groundforce, and has become one of the most recognized gardening pundits in England; you can investigate the magazine here.

Big Cheese

I laughed out loud when I saw a toasty orange vehicle go past me on my way home on the Saw Mill Parkway on Friday afternoon, February 19th. I was marvelling at the orange color, and then I read the license plate: QUESO, the Spanish word for cheese. Really, the car was the color of the kind of melted orange cheese you might find on a perfectly baked macaroni and cheese. And the Latin connection is that queso comes from the Latin word cāseus, -ī m. cheese, which, according to the Oxford Latin Dictionary, can also be used as a term of endearment. Years ago one of my first students at my current school was talking about taking The Cheese home from school; she was referring to her square little schoolbus, also a yellow-orange vehicle.