Cracking Teeth and Sipping Zeese

Posted by author Mim Harrison

So there we were, my husband and I, on the island of Barbados on the Fourth of July (where it was simply 4 July), and there I was, touring the George Washington house. Yes, he had slept there, too. He and his brother had lived on this easternmost Caribbean island for a while in pre-Revolutionary days.  And while Washington traveled far from America, some of the local dialect of the Barbadians—or Bajans, as they call themselves—traveled back to America.

In the cadence and the grammar and even some of the words, you can hear a whisper of Bajan in the Gullah dialect of the Sea Islands of South Carolina and Georgia.

What connects Gullah and Bajan is their shared West African heritage. Sadly, it’s a vestige of the slave trade. Some of the captives were taken to the British outpost of Barbados before being brought to the American colonies.

Gullah is one of several nearly-lost lexicons that you can still hear, if you listen hard enough, in tiny pockets of America. These expressions are more than a curious manner of speaking. They’re a way of preserving a people’s history. And they can add some spice to how the rest of us talk. Here’s an earful for you to try.

Cracking teeth. This Gullah expression may conjure up thoughts of painful dentistry, but it’s actually a way of saying that someone talks a lot. Just as you crack open a door, here you crack open your mouth.

Basket name. Another Gullah expression, it means nickname. Before a newborn is christened with a formal name, family members give the little one a nickname. This ensures that no evil spirits can steal the child’s soul from the baby basket.

Clabbering up. If you’re in Appalachia when this happens, there’s a chance it might rain. Clabbering up means the sky is clouding over. “Clabber” is close to the Gaelic word for “churn,” which suggests a thickening—like a thickening of clouds. And now you know why that brand of cornstarch (a thickener) is called Clabber Girl.

Fetch up.  If you’re a Banker or an O’Cocker—in other words, from the Outer Banks of North Carolina or the neighboring island of Ocracoke—you don’t show up. You fetch up. Sometimes it’s to go for a scud—a car ride.

Clean the tide out. If you do this, it means you’re the last one to leave the party—especially if it’s held on Long Island. The Bonackers are the ones who will make the comment. They represent the last gasps of the original European settlers of the area, and they still cling to a life of the sea. Their name derives from the Native American Accabonac of the area.

Eat yourself done.  Finish eating, in Pennsylvania Dutch parlance. This Dutch is actually Deutsch, or German. The folks who settled the parts of Pennsylvania where horse and buggy still ply the road were originally German, and it shows in the arrangement of the words in this phrase.

My off is on.  Another Pennsylvania Dutch expression, it means you’re about to take off. Think of it this way: when you’re on vacation, you’re taking time off. So your off is on. (Best just to go with this one and not get hung on it up.)

Sipping Zeese. In a tiny speck of Northern California, where a few faithful folks still speak Boontling, sipping Zeese is their way of drinking coffee. The “Boon” in Boontling is from Boonville, one of the towns where this private language developed in the late 1800s. “Ling” is lingo. Boontling was a way for the locals to speak in code so that visitors couldn’t catch on—a sort of California-style Pig Latin.

Lots of expressions were named after fellow Bootlingers. Charlie meant to embarrass—because you could easily embarrass Charlie Ball. Walter was the telephone, named after the first Boonvillean to have one.

(What would your name mean in Boontling? My husband would say that “Mim” would mean bossy. I have no idea where he gets that from.)

Another Bootlinger, Z.C. Blevens, loved his coffee. Say “Z.C.” fast and it sounds like Zeese. Thus, Zeese is coffee. Just don’t try asking for a Zeese grande at your local Starbucks. It might send the barista running to the Walter for help.

 

Mim Harrison is the author of Wicked Good Words, a linguistic road trip of some of America’s most intriguing regional expressions.

Comments

[Steve Leveen]

I'm eating myself done at Denny's in Carson City, NV, Will my waiter know what I mean? Oops, he is a server, right?

[dripable]

Thankfully some bloggers can write. Thank you for this post..