Re: [Unschooling-dotcom] meat was math experience
carolyn
I agree that if what you are eating bothers you, you shouldn't.
For all of my meat-eating years, however, I preferred not to use or hear
distasteful words about my meal. I think a whole lot of people eat meat
and don't want to think that it was once a living, breathing animal.
One of the vegetarian books I've read encouraged a change of language to
call "meat" by it's animal name, chickens, fishes, cows, pigs, etc.
because the author felt that language was one of the ways we have made
carcass eating more appealing.
And now, vegetarian myself this last year, I understand that my
meat-eating dd does not want to be offered a piece of some animal's
"dead body" for dinner or a piece of cow or pig. She's quite adamant
about that. We all know that doesn't change what is on the plate. But
I think she has the "right" to call a Whopper a Whopper instead of a
piece of dead cow. And that I should respect her feelings and call it a
Whopper, as well.
While I'm on this subject, Easter morning we went outside and found the
neighbor cooking a pig, a whole pig, in their front yard. I was
fascinated by the kids' response. I've long thought that if kids were
introduced to meat in such a way, the body of an animal they could
recognize, they would all be vegetarian. So after they showed it to me,
I asked if they were going to eat it. They all said yes, even the
youngest, although she added, "But I'm not going to eat it's butt!"
I guess my point is that we all have different sensibilities. I thought
of asking the kids, What about Wilbur? What about Babe? Would you eat
them? I managed to restrain myself.
Carolyn
rumpleteasermom wrote:
[Click Here!]
For all of my meat-eating years, however, I preferred not to use or hear
distasteful words about my meal. I think a whole lot of people eat meat
and don't want to think that it was once a living, breathing animal.
One of the vegetarian books I've read encouraged a change of language to
call "meat" by it's animal name, chickens, fishes, cows, pigs, etc.
because the author felt that language was one of the ways we have made
carcass eating more appealing.
And now, vegetarian myself this last year, I understand that my
meat-eating dd does not want to be offered a piece of some animal's
"dead body" for dinner or a piece of cow or pig. She's quite adamant
about that. We all know that doesn't change what is on the plate. But
I think she has the "right" to call a Whopper a Whopper instead of a
piece of dead cow. And that I should respect her feelings and call it a
Whopper, as well.
While I'm on this subject, Easter morning we went outside and found the
neighbor cooking a pig, a whole pig, in their front yard. I was
fascinated by the kids' response. I've long thought that if kids were
introduced to meat in such a way, the body of an animal they could
recognize, they would all be vegetarian. So after they showed it to me,
I asked if they were going to eat it. They all said yes, even the
youngest, although she added, "But I'm not going to eat it's butt!"
I guess my point is that we all have different sensibilities. I thought
of asking the kids, What about Wilbur? What about Babe? Would you eat
them? I managed to restrain myself.
Carolyn
rumpleteasermom wrote:
> Well, yes as a matter of fact. And I also think that if it bothersADVERTISEMENT
> you to think of it as a hunk of dead cow (or if you raise them
> yourself a peice of Bessie), you SHOULD be a vegetarian. If the truth
>
> of what you are eating bothers you, then you shouldn't eat it.
>
> Bridget
>
> --- In Unschooling-dotcom@y..., Katedavislawfirm@a... wrote:
>
> >
> > Bridget:
> >
> > Are you saying that "a 'roast,' by any other name, is still . . . .
> . .
> >
> > a hunk of dead cow??"
> >
> >
> > BLECH!
> >
> > Jeepers, this list is going to inspire the vegetarian in me to take
> over the
> > omnivore in me. Between bloody eggs and hunks of cow carcass, who
> could
> > resist?!
> >
> > Kate Davis
>
>
> Yahoo! Groups Sponsor
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>
> ~~~ Don't forget! If you change the topic, change the subject line!
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Fetteroll
on 4/23/02 1:06 PM, carolyn at nielsonc@... wrote:
Americans, to name a few, would all be hard to explain away ;-)
names were Anglo-Saxon because the peasants took care of them and used those
names. The Norman French nobles just dealt with the cooked animals so used
the Norman French words for the meat (which I assume *also* applied to the
animals back in France.) Well, I assume Sandra will help me out here if I've
boggled it. :-)
I don't know that people are any less eager to each chicken and fish than
they are beef and bacon.
But as a deliberate switch in thinking, if that's someone's goal, then it's
probably helpful. And along that line of thinking, perhaps just changing
from saying teaching to learning won't help much unless someone is changing
consciously.
Joyce
> I've long thought that if kids wereI think it makes sense but kids who grew up on farms, pioneers, Native
> introduced to meat in such a way, the body of an animal they could
> recognize, they would all be vegetarian.
Americans, to name a few, would all be hard to explain away ;-)
> One of the vegetarian books I've read encouraged a change of language toThat may only be true in English speaking countries. I think all the animal
> call "meat" by it's animal name, chickens, fishes, cows, pigs, etc.
> because the author felt that language was one of the ways we have made
> carcass eating more appealing.
names were Anglo-Saxon because the peasants took care of them and used those
names. The Norman French nobles just dealt with the cooked animals so used
the Norman French words for the meat (which I assume *also* applied to the
animals back in France.) Well, I assume Sandra will help me out here if I've
boggled it. :-)
I don't know that people are any less eager to each chicken and fish than
they are beef and bacon.
But as a deliberate switch in thinking, if that's someone's goal, then it's
probably helpful. And along that line of thinking, perhaps just changing
from saying teaching to learning won't help much unless someone is changing
consciously.
Joyce
[email protected]
In a message dated 4/23/02 11:11:42 AM, nielsonc@... writes:
<< One of the vegetarian books I've read encouraged a change of language to
call "meat" by it's animal name, chickens, fishes, cows, pigs, etc.
because the author felt that language was one of the ways we have made
carcass eating more appealing. >>
The Normans recognized those words as animal names.
I hope the author didn't think that was someone's conscious decision, to
disguise the Anglo-Saxon / Old English names for the animals just to thwart
vegetarianism. Vegetarianism wasn't a big thing (if it WAS a thing at all)
in the 11th century when that came about.
Sandra
<< One of the vegetarian books I've read encouraged a change of language to
call "meat" by it's animal name, chickens, fishes, cows, pigs, etc.
because the author felt that language was one of the ways we have made
carcass eating more appealing. >>
The Normans recognized those words as animal names.
I hope the author didn't think that was someone's conscious decision, to
disguise the Anglo-Saxon / Old English names for the animals just to thwart
vegetarianism. Vegetarianism wasn't a big thing (if it WAS a thing at all)
in the 11th century when that came about.
Sandra
[email protected]
In a message dated 4/23/02 11:11:42 AM, nielsonc@... writes:
<< But
I think she has the "right" to call a Whopper a Whopper instead of a
piece of dead cow. And that I should respect her feelings and call it a
Whopper, as well. >>
I agree with her.
Moms should respect their kids' feelings, and if a hot dog isn't really a dog
but a kid wants one, there's no advantage to naming off the ingredients in
World's Cheapest Hot Dogs. The parent could go get a fully organic
all-beef, no-by-product, fine-ground sausage instead of whatever's on sale at
the grocery store.
I think in some cases the stress and shame and pressure some people put on
others about their choices has GOT to be worse for them than the effect of
"bad" food eaten in peace.
And here is the story of my friend Hunter, which has nothing to do with diet.
Hunter worked hard in school. He was a non-nonsense guy, who went to Goddard
HS in Roswell. He always did exactly what his mother said. He went to
college and didn't goof around with the rest of us, he studied hard and
eschewed "fun." He never had girlfriends (because he was really boring and
uptight, but still...). He went to law school, and got good grades and a job
practicing law in a big city in Texas.
AND when he was a lawyer with a job, he got a date. And crossing the street
with his date, he was hit and killed by car. (She wasn't hit.)
So when someone gets totally focussed on the potential evil of the moment, or
the importance of one little class or timeframe, or the virtue of hard work,
or the evils of slacking, I think of Hunter.
Sandra
<< But
I think she has the "right" to call a Whopper a Whopper instead of a
piece of dead cow. And that I should respect her feelings and call it a
Whopper, as well. >>
I agree with her.
Moms should respect their kids' feelings, and if a hot dog isn't really a dog
but a kid wants one, there's no advantage to naming off the ingredients in
World's Cheapest Hot Dogs. The parent could go get a fully organic
all-beef, no-by-product, fine-ground sausage instead of whatever's on sale at
the grocery store.
I think in some cases the stress and shame and pressure some people put on
others about their choices has GOT to be worse for them than the effect of
"bad" food eaten in peace.
And here is the story of my friend Hunter, which has nothing to do with diet.
Hunter worked hard in school. He was a non-nonsense guy, who went to Goddard
HS in Roswell. He always did exactly what his mother said. He went to
college and didn't goof around with the rest of us, he studied hard and
eschewed "fun." He never had girlfriends (because he was really boring and
uptight, but still...). He went to law school, and got good grades and a job
practicing law in a big city in Texas.
AND when he was a lawyer with a job, he got a date. And crossing the street
with his date, he was hit and killed by car. (She wasn't hit.)
So when someone gets totally focussed on the potential evil of the moment, or
the importance of one little class or timeframe, or the virtue of hard work,
or the evils of slacking, I think of Hunter.
Sandra
Joseph Fuerst
Last week, I noticed my two oldest, Katy 10 and Abby 7, engrossed in
something at a neighbors garage up the street. A whole gaggle of the
neighborhood children seemed enthralled by something. We don't know those
neighbors well, but it seemed ok by sheer numbers......figured I'd inquire
later.
Turns out the neighbors had a turkey (which is also called turkey after it's
cooked, so there's an example that doesn't fit the general rule ;-) ) They
had shot it (I suppose at a turkey shoot). I didn't even have to ask. Abby
tells me when they got home: "Mom, they had a dead turkey and they said
they were cleaning it and going to eat it!" Then she remarked that she
found watching this and thinking about it to be "totally disgusting" She
said she missed the plucking, but saw the cut off head, watched it being
skinned, etc. Katy also said later that it was disgusting to her, too. She
toys with the vegetarian idea lately, but this didn't seem to push her one
way or the other.
It led to much lively discussion about where our food comes from and how it
is processed. I told her that our relatively new neighbor had raised
chickens at her previous home and that their grandmother (my mom) had LOTS
of chickens as a child. We also talked about visiting the Turkey farm near
us.....though they said they'd have to think about it after this experience!
Anyhow, a few days before that Abby had asked about where bubble gum comes
from and how it's made. During our library trek we had found a good book on
that PLUS one on peanut butter and chocolate and their origins and
production. AND there was a book we borrowed called (something like)
Disgusting things people eat ..throughout the world and throughout history.
So we talked abouth the relativity of being disgusted, etc.
That's a small glimpse of our recent unschooling life.
Susan
something at a neighbors garage up the street. A whole gaggle of the
neighborhood children seemed enthralled by something. We don't know those
neighbors well, but it seemed ok by sheer numbers......figured I'd inquire
later.
Turns out the neighbors had a turkey (which is also called turkey after it's
cooked, so there's an example that doesn't fit the general rule ;-) ) They
had shot it (I suppose at a turkey shoot). I didn't even have to ask. Abby
tells me when they got home: "Mom, they had a dead turkey and they said
they were cleaning it and going to eat it!" Then she remarked that she
found watching this and thinking about it to be "totally disgusting" She
said she missed the plucking, but saw the cut off head, watched it being
skinned, etc. Katy also said later that it was disgusting to her, too. She
toys with the vegetarian idea lately, but this didn't seem to push her one
way or the other.
It led to much lively discussion about where our food comes from and how it
is processed. I told her that our relatively new neighbor had raised
chickens at her previous home and that their grandmother (my mom) had LOTS
of chickens as a child. We also talked about visiting the Turkey farm near
us.....though they said they'd have to think about it after this experience!
Anyhow, a few days before that Abby had asked about where bubble gum comes
from and how it's made. During our library trek we had found a good book on
that PLUS one on peanut butter and chocolate and their origins and
production. AND there was a book we borrowed called (something like)
Disgusting things people eat ..throughout the world and throughout history.
So we talked abouth the relativity of being disgusted, etc.
That's a small glimpse of our recent unschooling life.
Susan
----- Original Message -----
From: "carolyn" <nielsonc@...>
To: <[email protected]>
Sent: Tuesday, April 23, 2002 1:06 PM
Subject: Re: [Unschooling-dotcom] meat was math experience
> I agree that if what you are eating bothers you, you shouldn't.
>
> For all of my meat-eating years, however, I preferred not to use or hear
> distasteful words about my meal. I think a whole lot of people eat meat
> and don't want to think that it was once a living, breathing animal.
> One of the vegetarian books I've read encouraged a change of language to
> call "meat" by it's animal name, chickens, fishes, cows, pigs, etc.
> because the author felt that language was one of the ways we have made
> carcass eating more appealing.
>
> And now, vegetarian myself this last year, I understand that my
> meat-eating dd does not want to be offered a piece of some animal's
> "dead body" for dinner or a piece of cow or pig. She's quite adamant
> about that. We all know that doesn't change what is on the plate. But
> I think she has the "right" to call a Whopper a Whopper instead of a
> piece of dead cow. And that I should respect her feelings and call it a
> Whopper, as well.
>
> While I'm on this subject, Easter morning we went outside and found the
> neighbor cooking a pig, a whole pig, in their front yard. I was
> fascinated by the kids' response. I've long thought that if kids were
> introduced to meat in such a way, the body of an animal they could
> recognize, they would all be vegetarian. So after they showed it to me,
> I asked if they were going to eat it. They all said yes, even the
> youngest, although she added, "But I'm not going to eat it's butt!"
>
> I guess my point is that we all have different sensibilities. I thought
> of asking the kids, What about Wilbur? What about Babe? Would you eat
> them? I managed to restrain myself.
>
> Carolyn
>
> rumpleteasermom wrote:
>
> > Well, yes as a matter of fact. And I also think that if it bothers
> > you to think of it as a hunk of dead cow (or if you raise them
> > yourself a peice of Bessie), you SHOULD be a vegetarian. If the truth
> >
> > of what you are eating bothers you, then you shouldn't eat it.
> >
> > Bridget
> >
> > --- In Unschooling-dotcom@y..., Katedavislawfirm@a... wrote:
> >
> > >
> > > Bridget:
> > >
> > > Are you saying that "a 'roast,' by any other name, is still . . . .
> > . .
> > >
> > > a hunk of dead cow??"
> > >
> > >
> > > BLECH!
> > >
> > > Jeepers, this list is going to inspire the vegetarian in me to take
> > over the
> > > omnivore in me. Between bloody eggs and hunks of cow carcass, who
> > could
> > > resist?!
> > >
> > > Kate Davis
> >
> >
> > Yahoo! Groups Sponsor
> ADVERTISEMENT
> [Click Here!]
>
> >
> > ~~~ Don't forget! If you change the topic, change the subject line!
> > ~~~
> >
> > To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
> > [email protected]
> >
> > Visit the Unschooling website:
> > http://www.unschooling.com
> >
> >
> >
> > Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service.
>
>
>
> ~~~ Don't forget! If you change the topic, change the subject line! ~~~
>
> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
> [email protected]
>
> Visit the Unschooling website:
> http://www.unschooling.com
>
>
>
> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/
>
>
[email protected]
In a message dated 4/23/02 1:01:16 PM, fuerst@... writes:
<<
Turns out the neighbors had a turkey (which is also called turkey after it's
cooked, so there's an example that doesn't fit the general rule ;-) ) >>
There were no turkeys in Europe until explorers brought them back from North
America.
<<
Turns out the neighbors had a turkey (which is also called turkey after it's
cooked, so there's an example that doesn't fit the general rule ;-) ) >>
There were no turkeys in Europe until explorers brought them back from North
America.
rumpleteasermom
--- In Unschooling-dotcom@y..., SandraDodd@a... wrote:
in general, at least I was. I wouldn't hit someone else's four year
old with 'dead cow' BUT in my family, by four that is common. Just
because we are no longer hunters, gatherers and farmners does not mean
we should not all KNOW where our food comes from.
Bridget
>it a
> In a message dated 4/23/02 11:11:42 AM, nielsonc@p... writes:
>
> << But
> I think she has the "right" to call a Whopper a Whopper instead of a
> piece of dead cow. And that I should respect her feelings and call
> Whopper, as well. >>really a dog
>
> I agree with her.
> Moms should respect their kids' feelings, and if a hot dog isn't
> but a kid wants one, there's no advantage to naming off theingredients in
> World's Cheapest Hot Dogs.Ah, but we aren't talking about kids. We were talking about everyone
in general, at least I was. I wouldn't hit someone else's four year
old with 'dead cow' BUT in my family, by four that is common. Just
because we are no longer hunters, gatherers and farmners does not mean
we should not all KNOW where our food comes from.
Bridget
[email protected]
In a message dated 4/24/02 9:05:14 AM, rumpleteasermom@... writes:
<< > << But
She was talking about her daughter.
<< > << But
> I think she has the "right" to call a Whopper a Whopper instead of ait a
> piece of dead cow. And that I should respect her feelings and call
> Whopper, as well. >> >><,Ah, but we aren't talking about kids. >>
She was talking about her daughter.
Fetteroll
on 4/23/02 4:42 PM, SandraDodd@... at SandraDodd@... wrote:
it resembled. Well, anyway, here's the incredibly convoluted history of how
turkeys came to be called turkeys from the Straight Dope.
(And if you've never been to the Straight Dope website, it's chock full of
fascinatingly deep research into things that are too common (and sometimes
too unmentionable ;-) to spark questions until someone asks and you realize
you should have wondered about it all along. There are books too, which are
collections of newspaper columns.)
http://www.straightdope.com/mailbag/mturkey.html
Dear Straight Dope:
With the recent earthquake in Turkey, I started to think about the fact that
there's a bird and a country named the same thing. How did each get its
name? And are there any other countries named the same as animals or food?
Is there a place named Chicken? --Aron Siegel
SDSTAFF bibliophage replies:
Here's all I know for sure: Despite several crackpot theories to the
contrary, the bird was named after the country, but in a very roundabout way
so that the details are uncertain. Oh, one other thing I know for sure: No
European should ever have been allowed to name any New World species. The
Aztecs, who kept domesticated turkeys for hundreds of years before the
Europeans arrived, had a perfectly good word for the bird in their Nahuatl
language: xuehxolotl, which, of course, is pronounced. Don't ask me how it's
pronounced, but I'm sure it can be done. If the Europeans had been smart
enough to stick with the original name, there would have been no need for me
to write this Staff Report, and on Thanksgiving we'd sit down to "xuehxolotl
with all the trimmings." Oh, the things that might have been.
First let's talk about the country. Turkey was named for the Turks, believe
it or not. Turk can mean either "a citizen of the modern state of Turkey" or
more broadly, "an individual of the Turkic-speaking people." The many Turkic
languages are spoken not only in Turkey but also in a large area of central
Asia and in northern Siberia. The real question is the origin of the name
Turk. The word is essentially the same in many languages, including English,
Turkish, Arabic, and Persian (Farsi). It probably comes from some Turkish
root, but there's no consensus on which one. It may be one root meaning
"strong" or "vigorous" (according to the American Heritage Dictionary) or it
may be another meaning "the people" (according to the Encyclopedia
Americana).
There are a couple of other theories of how the country got its name, both
wrong. The first has it that the country was named after the first leader of
the Turkish Republic, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk. But like most Turks, Mustafa
didn't have any surname at all until 1934, when he chose Atatürk ("Father of
the Turks") for himself. He had already given the country its
western-influenced name Türkiye several years earlier. During the period of
the empire, the Turkish name for the country had nothing to do with the
Turks. Rather, it was named for the Osman (Ottoman) dynasty that ruled it.
Another theory has it that the English named the country after the bird, as
a taunt. But the country was already called "Turki" or "Turkeye" in English
by 1275, hundreds of years before the bird was known in the Old World.
Now I'll give you the bird. It's likely the first bird called "turkey" in
English wasn't the familiar Thanksgiving fowl (Meleagris gallopavo), but a
smaller domesticated bird originally from sub-Saharan Africa: (Numida
meleagris), which we now call the Guinea fowl. This bird was introduced to
the Mediterranean in ancient times and was known (as a rarity) to the Greeks
and Romans. It was named after the mythical Meliagrides, who were the
sisters of Meleager and who were turned to birds after his death. This bird
seems to have disappeared from Europe and was reintroduced from west Africa
by Portuguese traders at the end of the fifteenth century. If this bird was
from Africa, why was it called "turkey" in English? Probably because it was
introduced to England by so-called "Turkey merchants" who traded with the
Mediterranean region, including the Ottoman Empire (which then controlled
the eastern third of that sea). A similar confusion caused another New World
species, maize or corn (Zea mays), to be called "Turkey wheat" or "Turkey
corn" in England.
M. gallopavo was introduced to Spain from America sometime between 1498 and
1526 (but most likely before 1511), and thence to England sometime between
1520 and 1541 (but probably before 1530). It too was named "turkey" in
English, perhaps because it was confused with N. meleagris, or because it
was likewise introduced by Turkey merchants. In citations from the Oxford
English Dictionary, "turkey" dates from 1541, but it is unclear which
species is meant. Among unambiguous citations, the N. meleagris meaning of
"turkey" beats out the M. gallopavo meaning by only three years (1552 vs.
1555). The OED doesn't say so but according to Schorger, the word has also
been used to describe other birds the males of which use tail displays, such
as the peacock. It is even possible that "peacock" was the original meaning
of the word in English, but that seems unlikely. For the same reason, the
capercaillie (a kind of grouse) has sometimes been called a peacock (pavo)
in Latin as well as "turkey" in English.
There are other theories of how the bird got its name. John Smith (of
Pocahontas fame) is sometimes given credit for naming the birds he saw in
Virginia "turkey," having confused them with the Guinea fowl. But as we have
already seen, both birds were established in England decades before Smith
was born in 1580. Another story is that the bird was named after its
caruncle (wattle), which is sometimes blue, the color of Turkey stone
(turquoise). Okay, but just because you like "Turkey in the Straw" doesn't
mean you have to grasp at straws trying to explain the name.
Another story is that Christopher Columbus named it tuka, after the Tamil
word for "peacock." (He may or may not have been the first European to see a
real turkey; the credit sometimes goes to Pedro Alonso Niño or Vincente
Yáñez Pinzón, but it's less certain that the birds they saw in earlier years
were really turkeys). It's hard to imagine why Chris would choose a Tamil
word when Spanish already had a perfectly suitable word for the domesticated
peacock, which was not at all uncommon in Europe at that time. But in fact
he named the bird he saw in Honduras in 1502 not tuka, but rather gallina de
la tierra ("ground chicken").
But the peacock theory isn't entirely fantasy. In the early days, there were
dozens of different names for the turkey in Spanish, but the one that
finally caught on was pavo, which originally did refer to the peacock. To
differentiate it from the turkey, the peacock is now called pavo real in
Spanish (which could be translated "royal turkey," and coincidentally this
is exactly what I call mybrother-in-law). The two birds may not look very
much alike to us, but the association isn't completely unfounded:
* They act the same. The males of both the peafowl and the turkey spread
their tail feathers in mating displays, though the turkey's display is much
less impressive.
* They sound the same. Both of them have unpleasant calls, a fact noted
by the writer Motolinía who visited Mexico in the sixteenth century.
* They taste the same according to at least three early reports,
including that of Columbus.
In addition, there is a related species found in Central America, the
ocellated turkey (Meleagris ocellata, also called Agriocharis ocellata),
which resembles a peacock in having eye spots on its tail feathers. It may
have been this bird that the earliest Spanish explorers saw, or it may have
been any of several other birds of the region that have been confused with
the peacock. This confusion is a big part of the uncertainty of exactly when
M. gallopavo was introduced to Spain.
English is not the only language that incorrectly associates the turkey with
Turkey. Welsh borrowed the English usage and calls the bird twrki. But it is
interesting that many other languages incorrectly associate the bird with
other countries. In many languages (including Turkish and French), the bird
is called by names indicating it's from India. This may derive from the
confusion between the East Indies and West Indies that was rampant in those
days. In fact, one of the early Spanish names, gallina de las Indias, means
"hen of the Indies." But other languages (such as Dutch and Danish) are
strangely specific in calling the bird by names indicating the bird is from
the Indian city of Calicut. At that time, Calicut was the most important
city for the trade between Europe and India. So it would not have been
unreasonable for Western Europeans to assume that anything exotic came from
Calicut, or more generally, from India. Incidentally, "calico cloth" is also
named after Calicut.
In Portuguese, the bird is called peru, despite the fact that the bird was
not introduced to Peru until after the Spanish conquest. The most reasonable
explanation for the association is that the bird became popular in Portugal
shortly after Pizarro conquered Peru in 1532, and the Portuguese made a
natural assumption. In Brazilian slang, peru can also means "penis," which
must make life interesting along the Brazil-Peru border. One word for the
bird in one of the several dialects of Hindi is also peru or piru, which is
probably borrowed from Portuguese. That makes sense, since the turkey was
introduced to India by the Portuguese (sometime before 1612). Another
suggestion, discounted by Portuguese etymologists, is that Portuguese and
Hindi both borrowed the word from a Tamil source. Tamil again? It's hard to
understand the fascination Tamil holds for the inventors of false
etymologies. Maybe they figure most of us can't speak it and so will believe
almost anything about it. In case you were wondering, in Tamil the bird is
called by names meaning "sky chicken" or "foreign chicken," but neither name
looks anything like tuka or peru.
Lest you think the scientific name of the turkey makes more sense than the
common ones, it is my duty to inform you that it is perhaps even more messed
up. Meleagris gallopavo is composed of the names of three different birds,
none of them the turkey. Meleagris was the ancient Greek name of the Guinea
fowl (mentioned above). For hundreds of years, European naturalists believed
the turkey was a kind of Guinea fowl, for reasons that are not entirely
clear. Gallopavo was one of the early Spanish names for the turkey (often
spelled gallipavo). Gallo- comes from gallus, the Latin word for the common
barnyard fowl (chicken), Gallus domesticus. And -pavo comes from Latin word
for the blue peacock, whose scientific name is Pavo cristatus. The Spanish
apparently gave it that name because the bird combined several traits of the
two birds. Some later naturalists took the name too literally and assumed
the turkey was a hybrid of a peacock and a chicken or of a rooster and a
peahen.
Other foods that share names with countries? Well, there's chili or chile
(as in pepper) but it's not etymologically related to the name of the
country Chile. Guinea is an obsolete shortened form of the edible "Guinea
fowl" (mentioned above). And from the Brazil nut tree (named after the
country) we get brazils (or Brazil nuts).
If you'll accept geographical features smaller than nations, you can make a
whole meal out of places. You could have a Bologna and Cheddar Sandwich with
Dijon, and a cup of Java to wash it down. You could even serve it on fine
China. And since you asked, there is a place called Chicken, Alaska (pop.
17). There's also an airport in California called Chicken Strip. No word on
whether it's tender, juicy, and golden-brown. I could continue in the same
silly vein, but that would be beneath the dignity of the Straight Dope. I'm
not Ghana do it.
Aw, who am I kidding?
Oman, all this talk of food is making me Hungary. Iran over as soon as I
smelled your cooking. Jamaica nuff for me? Why, yes, I would like some
coffee. Just one Cuba sugar, though. You're out of cream? Why don't you just
milk Macao to get Samoa? Bring me some booze instead. Lots of it, because I
really want to Taiwan on. This is what you call food? It's nothing but
Greece. Waiter, Czech please!
Suggested reading: The Wild Turkey: Its History and Domestication by A. W.
Schorger
--SDSTAFF bibliophage
Straight Dope Science Advisory Board
> There were no turkeys in Europe until explorers brought them back from NorthI had this vague recollection that the turkey was named after a Turkish bird
> America.
it resembled. Well, anyway, here's the incredibly convoluted history of how
turkeys came to be called turkeys from the Straight Dope.
(And if you've never been to the Straight Dope website, it's chock full of
fascinatingly deep research into things that are too common (and sometimes
too unmentionable ;-) to spark questions until someone asks and you realize
you should have wondered about it all along. There are books too, which are
collections of newspaper columns.)
http://www.straightdope.com/mailbag/mturkey.html
Dear Straight Dope:
With the recent earthquake in Turkey, I started to think about the fact that
there's a bird and a country named the same thing. How did each get its
name? And are there any other countries named the same as animals or food?
Is there a place named Chicken? --Aron Siegel
SDSTAFF bibliophage replies:
Here's all I know for sure: Despite several crackpot theories to the
contrary, the bird was named after the country, but in a very roundabout way
so that the details are uncertain. Oh, one other thing I know for sure: No
European should ever have been allowed to name any New World species. The
Aztecs, who kept domesticated turkeys for hundreds of years before the
Europeans arrived, had a perfectly good word for the bird in their Nahuatl
language: xuehxolotl, which, of course, is pronounced. Don't ask me how it's
pronounced, but I'm sure it can be done. If the Europeans had been smart
enough to stick with the original name, there would have been no need for me
to write this Staff Report, and on Thanksgiving we'd sit down to "xuehxolotl
with all the trimmings." Oh, the things that might have been.
First let's talk about the country. Turkey was named for the Turks, believe
it or not. Turk can mean either "a citizen of the modern state of Turkey" or
more broadly, "an individual of the Turkic-speaking people." The many Turkic
languages are spoken not only in Turkey but also in a large area of central
Asia and in northern Siberia. The real question is the origin of the name
Turk. The word is essentially the same in many languages, including English,
Turkish, Arabic, and Persian (Farsi). It probably comes from some Turkish
root, but there's no consensus on which one. It may be one root meaning
"strong" or "vigorous" (according to the American Heritage Dictionary) or it
may be another meaning "the people" (according to the Encyclopedia
Americana).
There are a couple of other theories of how the country got its name, both
wrong. The first has it that the country was named after the first leader of
the Turkish Republic, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk. But like most Turks, Mustafa
didn't have any surname at all until 1934, when he chose Atatürk ("Father of
the Turks") for himself. He had already given the country its
western-influenced name Türkiye several years earlier. During the period of
the empire, the Turkish name for the country had nothing to do with the
Turks. Rather, it was named for the Osman (Ottoman) dynasty that ruled it.
Another theory has it that the English named the country after the bird, as
a taunt. But the country was already called "Turki" or "Turkeye" in English
by 1275, hundreds of years before the bird was known in the Old World.
Now I'll give you the bird. It's likely the first bird called "turkey" in
English wasn't the familiar Thanksgiving fowl (Meleagris gallopavo), but a
smaller domesticated bird originally from sub-Saharan Africa: (Numida
meleagris), which we now call the Guinea fowl. This bird was introduced to
the Mediterranean in ancient times and was known (as a rarity) to the Greeks
and Romans. It was named after the mythical Meliagrides, who were the
sisters of Meleager and who were turned to birds after his death. This bird
seems to have disappeared from Europe and was reintroduced from west Africa
by Portuguese traders at the end of the fifteenth century. If this bird was
from Africa, why was it called "turkey" in English? Probably because it was
introduced to England by so-called "Turkey merchants" who traded with the
Mediterranean region, including the Ottoman Empire (which then controlled
the eastern third of that sea). A similar confusion caused another New World
species, maize or corn (Zea mays), to be called "Turkey wheat" or "Turkey
corn" in England.
M. gallopavo was introduced to Spain from America sometime between 1498 and
1526 (but most likely before 1511), and thence to England sometime between
1520 and 1541 (but probably before 1530). It too was named "turkey" in
English, perhaps because it was confused with N. meleagris, or because it
was likewise introduced by Turkey merchants. In citations from the Oxford
English Dictionary, "turkey" dates from 1541, but it is unclear which
species is meant. Among unambiguous citations, the N. meleagris meaning of
"turkey" beats out the M. gallopavo meaning by only three years (1552 vs.
1555). The OED doesn't say so but according to Schorger, the word has also
been used to describe other birds the males of which use tail displays, such
as the peacock. It is even possible that "peacock" was the original meaning
of the word in English, but that seems unlikely. For the same reason, the
capercaillie (a kind of grouse) has sometimes been called a peacock (pavo)
in Latin as well as "turkey" in English.
There are other theories of how the bird got its name. John Smith (of
Pocahontas fame) is sometimes given credit for naming the birds he saw in
Virginia "turkey," having confused them with the Guinea fowl. But as we have
already seen, both birds were established in England decades before Smith
was born in 1580. Another story is that the bird was named after its
caruncle (wattle), which is sometimes blue, the color of Turkey stone
(turquoise). Okay, but just because you like "Turkey in the Straw" doesn't
mean you have to grasp at straws trying to explain the name.
Another story is that Christopher Columbus named it tuka, after the Tamil
word for "peacock." (He may or may not have been the first European to see a
real turkey; the credit sometimes goes to Pedro Alonso Niño or Vincente
Yáñez Pinzón, but it's less certain that the birds they saw in earlier years
were really turkeys). It's hard to imagine why Chris would choose a Tamil
word when Spanish already had a perfectly suitable word for the domesticated
peacock, which was not at all uncommon in Europe at that time. But in fact
he named the bird he saw in Honduras in 1502 not tuka, but rather gallina de
la tierra ("ground chicken").
But the peacock theory isn't entirely fantasy. In the early days, there were
dozens of different names for the turkey in Spanish, but the one that
finally caught on was pavo, which originally did refer to the peacock. To
differentiate it from the turkey, the peacock is now called pavo real in
Spanish (which could be translated "royal turkey," and coincidentally this
is exactly what I call mybrother-in-law). The two birds may not look very
much alike to us, but the association isn't completely unfounded:
* They act the same. The males of both the peafowl and the turkey spread
their tail feathers in mating displays, though the turkey's display is much
less impressive.
* They sound the same. Both of them have unpleasant calls, a fact noted
by the writer Motolinía who visited Mexico in the sixteenth century.
* They taste the same according to at least three early reports,
including that of Columbus.
In addition, there is a related species found in Central America, the
ocellated turkey (Meleagris ocellata, also called Agriocharis ocellata),
which resembles a peacock in having eye spots on its tail feathers. It may
have been this bird that the earliest Spanish explorers saw, or it may have
been any of several other birds of the region that have been confused with
the peacock. This confusion is a big part of the uncertainty of exactly when
M. gallopavo was introduced to Spain.
English is not the only language that incorrectly associates the turkey with
Turkey. Welsh borrowed the English usage and calls the bird twrki. But it is
interesting that many other languages incorrectly associate the bird with
other countries. In many languages (including Turkish and French), the bird
is called by names indicating it's from India. This may derive from the
confusion between the East Indies and West Indies that was rampant in those
days. In fact, one of the early Spanish names, gallina de las Indias, means
"hen of the Indies." But other languages (such as Dutch and Danish) are
strangely specific in calling the bird by names indicating the bird is from
the Indian city of Calicut. At that time, Calicut was the most important
city for the trade between Europe and India. So it would not have been
unreasonable for Western Europeans to assume that anything exotic came from
Calicut, or more generally, from India. Incidentally, "calico cloth" is also
named after Calicut.
In Portuguese, the bird is called peru, despite the fact that the bird was
not introduced to Peru until after the Spanish conquest. The most reasonable
explanation for the association is that the bird became popular in Portugal
shortly after Pizarro conquered Peru in 1532, and the Portuguese made a
natural assumption. In Brazilian slang, peru can also means "penis," which
must make life interesting along the Brazil-Peru border. One word for the
bird in one of the several dialects of Hindi is also peru or piru, which is
probably borrowed from Portuguese. That makes sense, since the turkey was
introduced to India by the Portuguese (sometime before 1612). Another
suggestion, discounted by Portuguese etymologists, is that Portuguese and
Hindi both borrowed the word from a Tamil source. Tamil again? It's hard to
understand the fascination Tamil holds for the inventors of false
etymologies. Maybe they figure most of us can't speak it and so will believe
almost anything about it. In case you were wondering, in Tamil the bird is
called by names meaning "sky chicken" or "foreign chicken," but neither name
looks anything like tuka or peru.
Lest you think the scientific name of the turkey makes more sense than the
common ones, it is my duty to inform you that it is perhaps even more messed
up. Meleagris gallopavo is composed of the names of three different birds,
none of them the turkey. Meleagris was the ancient Greek name of the Guinea
fowl (mentioned above). For hundreds of years, European naturalists believed
the turkey was a kind of Guinea fowl, for reasons that are not entirely
clear. Gallopavo was one of the early Spanish names for the turkey (often
spelled gallipavo). Gallo- comes from gallus, the Latin word for the common
barnyard fowl (chicken), Gallus domesticus. And -pavo comes from Latin word
for the blue peacock, whose scientific name is Pavo cristatus. The Spanish
apparently gave it that name because the bird combined several traits of the
two birds. Some later naturalists took the name too literally and assumed
the turkey was a hybrid of a peacock and a chicken or of a rooster and a
peahen.
Other foods that share names with countries? Well, there's chili or chile
(as in pepper) but it's not etymologically related to the name of the
country Chile. Guinea is an obsolete shortened form of the edible "Guinea
fowl" (mentioned above). And from the Brazil nut tree (named after the
country) we get brazils (or Brazil nuts).
If you'll accept geographical features smaller than nations, you can make a
whole meal out of places. You could have a Bologna and Cheddar Sandwich with
Dijon, and a cup of Java to wash it down. You could even serve it on fine
China. And since you asked, there is a place called Chicken, Alaska (pop.
17). There's also an airport in California called Chicken Strip. No word on
whether it's tender, juicy, and golden-brown. I could continue in the same
silly vein, but that would be beneath the dignity of the Straight Dope. I'm
not Ghana do it.
Aw, who am I kidding?
Oman, all this talk of food is making me Hungary. Iran over as soon as I
smelled your cooking. Jamaica nuff for me? Why, yes, I would like some
coffee. Just one Cuba sugar, though. You're out of cream? Why don't you just
milk Macao to get Samoa? Bring me some booze instead. Lots of it, because I
really want to Taiwan on. This is what you call food? It's nothing but
Greece. Waiter, Czech please!
Suggested reading: The Wild Turkey: Its History and Domestication by A. W.
Schorger
--SDSTAFF bibliophage
Straight Dope Science Advisory Board
[email protected]
In England, people were eating geese and swans for large poultry, and they're
kinda nasty. Bummer the gold was in south America and not north America,
because while the Spanish explorers were bringing gold back, the English
didn't find gold in their colonies, but were bringing trees (for ships'
masts) and tobacco and wild turkeys (to be domesticated for food). Then they
were taking those new masts and huge trees and building ships and taking the
gold away from the Spanish ships. It worked out okay (for England, for a
while).
Sandra
kinda nasty. Bummer the gold was in south America and not north America,
because while the Spanish explorers were bringing gold back, the English
didn't find gold in their colonies, but were bringing trees (for ships'
masts) and tobacco and wild turkeys (to be domesticated for food). Then they
were taking those new masts and huge trees and building ships and taking the
gold away from the Spanish ships. It worked out okay (for England, for a
while).
Sandra
[email protected]
In a message dated 4/23/2002 SandraDodd@... writes:
Always living by the book, totally stressed out, always planning to take it
easy when things "slowed down." Died at 45 of a major heart attack. Thanks
for the reminder, Sandra. I needed it.
Caro
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
> So when someone gets totally focussed on the potential evil of the moment,I think most of us have a Hunter in our lives. For me, it was my Dad.
> or
> the importance of one little class or timeframe, or the virtue of hard
> work,
> or the evils of slacking, I think of Hunter.
>
>
Always living by the book, totally stressed out, always planning to take it
easy when things "slowed down." Died at 45 of a major heart attack. Thanks
for the reminder, Sandra. I needed it.
Caro
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]