I didn't know this expression. Thanks a lot for teaching me its meaning.
As your students don't write here, I will share my funny confusion while singing When I was a child I use to sing the song "Con flores a María, con flores "a porfía" que madre nuestra es..." at church and I thought Porfía was another woman, probably María's relative or friend. Later I learnt the meaning of "a porfía": "in competition", as all of you know. Carmen Martín
When I was a child, me and my younger brother used to see "Bola de Dragón". In the starting song of every chapter, it used to say "... vamos a buscar con ahínco la Bola de Dragón". We spent several years thinking about WHO the bloody hell was supposed to be "ahínco", because he/she didn't appear in the show at all!!! :) Alberto Ojedo
All my life I have said, meterse en camisa de Don Cebaras... took me quite a few years to realize it was de once varas... Will borrow your story for my blog. I love it! I have just seen you have opened some collective blogs. Will ask you about the set up in our impending (does it sound tragic enough?) department meeting next week.
You all remind me of lots of these things. Religious songs and psalms and hymns? Like Carmen, I didn't understand "a porfía", and I think I supposed it was a place ... before the penny eventually dropped when I came across this phrase in other contexts. In the most common prayer, 'Our Father', I just coudn't understand why we invariably said, "El pan nuestro de cada día, danos leoy" (or "dánosle hoy?"). Neither made sense to me. Years later, recalling the mysterious phrase, the penny dropped: oh, it's just "dánoslo hoy" in a more euphonic and 'new Castilian' way! To speak only of words, the penny dropped again and again during my university years: you see, my mother has always used dozens of words and phrases that no one or hardly anyone else uttered when I learned and constantly heard them. "No m'he dormío. M'he quedao una chispica clisá na más." "¿Otros 20 duros? ¡Menudo hispolio me llevas!" "¡No me hagas coger más disgustazos y pesahombres!" Eventually, I realized the origin of these three and so many others: "eclipsada", "expolio" and "pesadumbre" are the learned forms that people from my area still never use in these cases.
By the way, the first songs I sang - to the family's shop customers - as a little boy were "Anduriña", "Westambé" and "Chole mole". The penny only took some time to drop when I was a bit better at discriminating sounds and words: it was all right with the Galician swallow or "anduriña", but the others turned out to be "Cuéntame" and "Sunday Morning". Actually, it was my mother who taught us "Chole mole", and of course Donna Hightower was "La Chole-Mole"! :)
I love every story you have shared with us, but MAP's comment is really brilliant! I reckon children must have a lot of funny misunderstandings currently, because most of them begin to learn other languages by ear earlier than I began to study French; in fact when I was twelve. Best wishes, Carmen
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I didn't know this expression. Thanks a lot for teaching me its meaning.
ReplyDeleteAs your students don't write here, I will share my funny confusion while singing
When I was a child I use to sing the song "Con flores a María, con flores "a porfía" que madre nuestra es..." at church and I thought Porfía was another woman, probably María's relative or friend.
Later I learnt the meaning of "a porfía": "in competition", as all of you know.
Carmen Martín
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a child, me and my younger brother used to see "Bola de Dragón". In the starting song of every chapter, it used to say "... vamos a buscar con ahínco la Bola de Dragón". We spent several years thinking about WHO the bloody hell was supposed to be "ahínco", because he/she didn't appear in the show at all!!! :)
ReplyDeleteAlberto Ojedo
All my life I have said, meterse en camisa de Don Cebaras... took me quite a few years to realize it was de once varas...
ReplyDeleteWill borrow your story for my blog. I love it!
I have just seen you have opened some collective blogs. Will ask you about the set up in our impending (does it sound tragic enough?) department meeting next week.
You all remind me of lots of these things. Religious songs and psalms and hymns? Like Carmen, I didn't understand "a porfía", and I think I supposed it was a place ... before the penny eventually dropped when I came across this phrase in other contexts. In the most common prayer, 'Our Father', I just coudn't understand why we invariably said, "El pan nuestro de cada día, danos leoy" (or "dánosle hoy?"). Neither made sense to me. Years later, recalling the mysterious phrase, the penny dropped: oh, it's just "dánoslo hoy" in a more euphonic and 'new Castilian' way! To speak only of words, the penny dropped again and again during my university years: you see, my mother has always used dozens of words and phrases that no one or hardly anyone else uttered when I learned and constantly heard them. "No m'he dormío. M'he quedao una chispica clisá na más." "¿Otros 20 duros? ¡Menudo hispolio me llevas!" "¡No me hagas coger más disgustazos y pesahombres!" Eventually, I realized the origin of these three and so many others: "eclipsada", "expolio" and "pesadumbre" are the learned forms that people from my area still never use in these cases.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, the first songs I sang - to the family's shop customers - as a little boy were "Anduriña", "Westambé" and "Chole mole". The penny only took some time to drop when I was a bit better at discriminating sounds and words: it was all right with the Galician swallow or "anduriña", but the others turned out to be "Cuéntame" and "Sunday Morning". Actually, it was my mother who taught us "Chole mole", and of course Donna Hightower was "La Chole-Mole"! :)
I love every story you have shared with us, but MAP's comment is really brilliant!
ReplyDeleteI reckon children must have a lot of funny misunderstandings currently, because most of them begin to learn other languages by ear earlier than I began to study French; in fact when I was twelve.
Best wishes,
Carmen