There are words in many languages that are hard to translate, or take a number of words and some nuance to do so. Take the Hebrew word "stam." It sort of means, "nothing, just because, don't read anything else into it; it just is." As in:
"I was sitting in my living room."
"Why were you there?"
"Stam. I was watching TV."
In Irish, the word "craic" (pronounced "crack") is used as a sort of universal term for "fun, a good time, where the action is." It is always a social thing, something to be shared.
Last night, the craic was to be found at the Crane Bar, where it was my last evening with the young women and men of the NUIG Trad Soc. Again, over 20 musicians showed up to share and play tunes and chat and drink. There are regulars who I recognized, and several folks I'd never seen before. A few Americans as well, who are doing a semester or year abroad at NUIG. Everyone was friendly and welcoming. Several kept exchanging instruments, so a flute player might end up on a concertina, a fiddle player on a tin whistle, and the accordion player played my bodhran a few times, too.
They asked me to sing another song, and I sang "May and might never," a parting song that seemed appropriate, not only because I was leaving soon, but because their student year is about to end with a month of exams.
Walking home, I ran into a couple visiting from Marlboro, New Jersey, who'd had a bit much to drink. They had the New Jersey accent down pat. I walked with them until they reached their B&B, and then I continued back to my apartment.
"I was sitting in my living room."
"Why were you there?"
"Stam. I was watching TV."
In Irish, the word "craic" (pronounced "crack") is used as a sort of universal term for "fun, a good time, where the action is." It is always a social thing, something to be shared.
Last night, the craic was to be found at the Crane Bar, where it was my last evening with the young women and men of the NUIG Trad Soc. Again, over 20 musicians showed up to share and play tunes and chat and drink. There are regulars who I recognized, and several folks I'd never seen before. A few Americans as well, who are doing a semester or year abroad at NUIG. Everyone was friendly and welcoming. Several kept exchanging instruments, so a flute player might end up on a concertina, a fiddle player on a tin whistle, and the accordion player played my bodhran a few times, too.
They asked me to sing another song, and I sang "May and might never," a parting song that seemed appropriate, not only because I was leaving soon, but because their student year is about to end with a month of exams.
Come sing and be merry, all grief to refrainLast call came near midnight, but we played for another 30 or 40 minutes. It was a grand night.
For we may and might never all meet here again.
Walking home, I ran into a couple visiting from Marlboro, New Jersey, who'd had a bit much to drink. They had the New Jersey accent down pat. I walked with them until they reached their B&B, and then I continued back to my apartment.
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