Alt Béarla: Many of the words I’ve included in my book are a product of the environment, especially the sea. Irish is the great recycler – we have taken words from nature and repurposed them to describe how we feel.
‘Loinnir’, a word that describes the sunlight sparkling on the waves, is used to capture that merriness you feel after early pints of stout in the morning.
Irish people are great storytellers, whether it’s in our literature or down the pub, and you can see that love of storytelling embedded in our national language.
So many Irish phrases are like tiny poems; they tell whole stories in a few words.
Even if you’re not an Irish-speaker, the way Irish people speak English has been influenced by the Irish language and has made us masters of conversation.
And that’s what my book is all about – conversation.
When I say the words and phrases in this book, they conjure up images in my head that feed my imagination.
Even the rain feels wetter as Gaeilge. There has to be some part of our brain that reacts to language and paints a picture when we hear it.
That’s how I’ve chosen the phrases you’re about to read – I want to paint a picture in your head through Irish.
But sometimes I’ve included phrases just because I’m in love with how they sound. They’re timeless words for the long adventure of life.
I want you to use them in your house, in your classroom, and in your parish. And then spread them to the next generation.
Ar bís
Béarla, Buzzing (air beesh) ‘Bhí mé ar bís ag an aerfort’. I was buzzing at the airport.
To be ‘ar bís’ is that feeling you get when you’re at Dublin Airport, you’ve got all your new gear on, your passport in your hand, and you’re ready to take off on an adventure.
It’s the feeling of endorphins coursing through your body when you’re excited about something. For me, it always happens when I get to travel to some amazing place, like the Amazon or Victoria Falls or the jungle in southern Ethiopia.
I know I’m going to make a good TV show just from the beauty of the places, so I’m ar bís.
Fuinneamh
Béarla, Energy [fwin-yav] ‘Bhí fuinneamh iontach sa seomra an lá sin’.
There was great energy in the room that day.
I’ve been blessed to have fuinneamh in my career and in my life, and I suppose it comes from the people around me.
That’s my zest for life. My wife, my sons, my brothers on the road, Rosco and Evan, whom I’ve worked with for over 23 years on TG4.
I got fuinneamh in the Hen House with Tommy and Laurita on the podcast.
I truly believe if you can surround yourself with the people you like, the people you get and the people who get you, then a little more of everything can be achieved.
When my brother, Freddy, died suddenly a few summers ago, I retreated out into my garden for weeks. There the land, the grass, the trees, the bees, the sky, the birds, the sun, the clouds, the rain all gave me fuinneamh when I needed it most.
Dochreidte
Béarla, Unreal [duh-crej-ha] ‘Tá an radharc sin dochreidte!’ That view is unreal!
In Navan we used to say ‘vintage’ when something was really good, and ‘dochreidte’ reminds me of that. It’s for when something is simply outstanding.
I probably used this word a hundred times in my first ever travel show as a young redheaded Navan man landing in the US.
I thought absolutely everything was dochreidte. And then I went to the Amazon ?
Damanta
Béarla, Unreal [da-mawn-ta] ‘Bhí an bháisteach agus an ghaoth damanta aréir i nGaillimh’.
The rain and wind were unreal last night in Galway.
Unlike ‘dochreidte’ ‘damanta’ has a bit of negativity to it. There’s pain involved in the word. It’s brilliant for a s***e situation. You can see Teresa Mannion standing at a roundabout in Salthill getting hammered by a gale, seawater flowing down her face, saying the weather is damanta so don’t make any unnecessary journeys.
Brádán báistí
Béarla, Drizzle [braw-dawn bawsh-tee] ‘Tá sé ag báisteach taobh amuigh ach níl ann ach brádán’.
No matter the occasion, there’ll always be some sort of rain. The Galway Races? Rain. The Ploughing? Lashing rain. The wedding photos outside the church? Torrential. And in between the heavy rain we have the drizzle that starts in the west at the Galway Arts Festival in July and doesn’t stop until the following May.
Gadhar
Béarla, Dog [guy-er] ‘Tá gadhar agam’. I have a dog.
No offence to the word ‘madra’, but ‘gadhar’ sounds even more Irish.
It’s a gorgeous word I learned as a young lad in Ráth Chairn, where they only say ‘gadhar’ and never say ‘madra’. For me, I love using it when I see a scruffy, wild-looking dog.
It’s a word that fills my mind with images of a hound: a big aul’ dog that isn’t going to look in the kitchen window at you with sad eyes when a drop of rain falls.
Bainte amach
Béarla, Full of himself [bwin-tcha amok] ‘Tá an leaid sin Liam Gallagher chomh bainte amach.’
That lad Liam Gallagher is full of himself.
We love having 101 ways to say the same thing in Ireland, so here’s another phrase for ‘cocky’, although it’s more about being confident than arrogant.
‘Bainte amach’ is the type of swagger that Liam Gallagher from Oasis or Ian Brown from the Stone Roses have when they walk out on stage, or the likes of David Clifford from Kerry when he’s out on the pitch.
I think we should all try to have a bit of swagger about us.
Chomh milis le mil
Béarla, Fake person [ko mill-ish le mill] ‘An bhean sin, tá sí chomh milis le mil.’
Yer woman there, she is as fake as anything.
This is one for the David Brent (Ricky Gervais) types who throw their weight around in work. They come into the meeting all ‘Good morning. How are you?’ but you know you can’t trust the big, sweet grin on their face.
The phrase translates more literally as ‘sweet as honey’, but it’s so sweet it will make you sick.
Caidreamh / Romance
Stumpa
Good-looking woman [stum-pa] ‘Nach breá an stumpa í!’
Isn’t she a fine-looking thing!
It’s a strong-sounding word, ‘stumpa’, which doesn’t always make it sound like a compliment, but it is!
You would hear it said in Connemara to describe a fine-looking lady, there’s plenty of them in Ireland. A stumpa can make you fall in love or cut you in two with a single turn of phrase.
Tá mé fiáin agat
I’m mad about you/ wild for you [taw may fee-awn att] ‘An rachaidh tú amach liom? Cén fáth?
Mar tá mé fiáin agat!’ Will you go out with me? Why?
Because I’m wild about you!
My brother Freddy was a popular man with the ladies. Freddy was a bit of a staic (see below), a good-looking fella.
The sounds of Soundgarden and Pearl Jam playing and a flagon of cider between us in the back. When we got there, Freddy would disappear for an hour or two and arrive back with a girl on his arm.
It wasn’t unusual for him to go home with someone and for the rest of us to be standing in the chipper getting a snack box at two o’clock in the morning, me wondering how the hell I was going to get home.
Staic
Good-looking man [stack] ‘Nach breá an staic é!’ He’s a fine thing!
I don’t know how this word evolved but it packs a handsome punch. A ‘staic’ is an Irish word for a fine-looking, strapping lad like Paul Mescal.
There’s never been a Mr Connemara contest to my knowledge, but there should be one televised live on TG4.
There’d be staicí everywhere, and instead of doing a jig or reading a poem like the lovely girls in the Rose of Tralee, they would be emptying a trailer of turf, milking a cow, making a magnificent chowder, and telling you in under 60 seconds how much they love their mammies.
Colainn/ Body
Bricíní / pòigíní gréine
Freckles [brick-een-ee/po-gee-nee gray-nya] ‘Is breá liom na pòigíní gréine a fuair tú agus tú ag taisteal!’
I love the freckles you got while travelling!
When you talk about someone’s freckles in Irish, whether you choose bricíní or pòigíní gréine, it’s automatically a compliment.
These words also mean ‘little stars’ (bricíní) and ‘little sun kisses’ (pòigíní gréine). ‘Freckles’ in English could go either way – it sounds like a word that could have been invented by the HSE.
Roic
Wrinkles [rick] ‘Bhí éadán an iascaire lán le roic théis a shaol a chaitheamh ar an uisce.’
The face of the fisherman was wrinkled after a life spent out on the water.
I think wrinkles are magnificent, but we have become ashamed of what wrinkles bring. I think our roic should be celebrated. Wrinkles bring knowledge, they bring character, they tell stories, and they make smiles.
Wrinkles drink porter and wrinkles give hugs. The wrinkles of your grandparents tell you that they love you and to put on your coat because it’s cold outside.
Straois
Smirk [streesh] ‘Bain an straois sin de d’aghaidh.’
Take that smirk off your face.
I want all the teachers in the country to know this word.
It’s a great one for cheeky teenagers: the know-it-all smirking and sneering down the back of the class. Just make sure to deliver it with passion and stretch the pronunciation: ‘streeeesh’.
‘Raymond Flaherty/Colin O’Brien/Maria Deveraux, bain an straois sin de d’agahaidh.’ Boom
Ioscaid
Back of the knee [iss-coid] ‘Beidh mé sna hioscaidí agat’.
I’ll be right behind you/I’ll back you all the way!
The back of the knee is an underrated, almost forgotten part of the body.
Like they say, ‘out of sight, out of mind’, unless you’re unlucky enough to get sunburnt on the back of the legs and then it’ll be all you can think about.
‘Ioscaid’ can be used to say you’re backing someone, that you’re going to be behind them.
So this is a word for a rarely thought-about body part that’s also used to say you have someone’s back, that you are there to support them. Irish can take a word for one simple thing, repurpose it, and let it take flight.
Ascaill
Underarm/armpit [aws-kill] ‘Chuir sí a lámh i m’ascaill agus shiúil muid linn òn séipéal.’
We linked arms as we walked together from the church.
‘Ascaill’ is the word for the underside of your arm and your armpit. The word for ‘arm’ is ‘lámh’, which also means ‘hand’, or ‘géag’, which means ‘branch’. I love that Irish uses the same word for ‘arm’ as it does for ‘branch’, but I’ve chosen ‘ascaill’ here because it’s so specifically the underside.
We use it to link each other as we walk, so to me it means connection.
• Más mian leat ríomhphost (email) a fháil leis na scéalta Gaeilge is fearr ar ExtraG.ie, ó Luan go hAoine, seol an focal ‘Tá’ chuig joeextragdotie@gmail.com
• Más mian leat tuilleadh eolais a fháil faoi conas do chuid Gaeilge a fheabhsú is féidir dul chuig Conradh na Gaeilge agus Foras na Gaeilge.
• Tá athbheochan na Gaeilge ar siúl faoi láthair, ar mhaith leat páirt a ghlacadh. Léigh beagán Gaeilge gach lá ar Extrag.ie
Bí ar an gcéad duine a léann an Nuacht is déanaí i nGaeilge, leis an gclúdach is fearr ar chúrsaí reatha, Siamsaíocht bhríomhar agus Spórt.
