The Boezewush
The real Flemish is a flowery language with words that are very foreign to the Dutch. Like “boozewush”. It refers to a strange, distant and inhospitable region or place. Don't ask De Inquisitor where the word comes from, probably somewhere in a distant colonial memory when Belgium was still the proud owner of the Congo.
About three years ago, De Inquisitor moved into the Thai boezewush, being Isaan. Wise as he is, he went to check whether he was suitable for yet another relocation after nine years in Pattaya, the 'farang enclave' par excellence. After all, everyone meets the love of their life at some point.
Over the years, De Inquisitor had been there, had even slept there. Buriram and Nakhom Panom. Going out with the Pattaya neighbors who went to visit family. But pampered to such an extent that he actually had no idea about real Isan life. He ate chicken and chips.
Got a private bedroom with air conditioning. Shouldn't walk on slippers because of the bugs. Didn't really do anything but party. Now it would get serious
Until about Udon Thani it was all still recognizable, after that it changed. The regular buildings gave way to much more open space, still a lot of cultivated land, but that is also gradually becoming less, the landscape is becoming a bit more wild. The means of transport are starting to look a bit worn out, rickety things with no brand name. And they drive a lot slower here.
The closer to the village, the worse the roads. At first asphalt, but gradually there are many potholes. Then a kind of concrete roads where people forgot to place expansion joints, the concrete slabs seem to float independently of each other. And then simply simple dirt roads, which turn into adventurous savannah roads when it rains.
In addition, not all turn signals are translated into English anymore, which makes things even more confusing. Loyal readers already know that De Inquisitor has an aversion to modern means such as route planners. And, despite his wife's directions, he had already been lost a few times.
After about eleven hours of driving with only the necessary short stops, a blissful smile appears on The Inquisitor's girlfriend's face: a few more kilometers and we will arrive in my village. On that last savannah road, with potholes that make the Inquisitor's car groan, we wind those last kilometers through a forest that turns into endless rice fields. And De Inquisitor undergoes a new culture shock.
The village starts suddenly, before there was no building to be seen. Mostly rickety, wooden houses with rammed earth on the ground floor, some keep their pigs there or let their buffaloes spend the night here. Or it is full of clutter with a hammock here and there.
No ribbon development, as soon as the village ends you have fields and forests again so that you hardly have any landmarks. Chickens, dogs and buffaloes criss-cross the road.
We stop at her mother's house and little time to recover from the ride. Neighbors and family have been warned, hence all the phone calls in the car. And first a shopping stop at what De Inquisitor hardly seemed like a shop – a living room with merchandise, but the beer is cheap and the Lao Kao even cheaper. The people are curious and cheerfully polite. But the laboriously learned Thai is of little use to De Inquisitor: people understand him, but he understands no one. Boy.
Only when the purchased drink is completely drunk and De Inquisitor quickly eats the remaining 7/11 food from the road can we go to sleep in mother's house. On a bamboo mat. No windows, but warped wooden shutters where mosquitoes and other vermin happily fly in or crawl in. And warm, no air conditioning, just a fan that loudly announces that its end is near. The Inquisitor also constantly hears other strange noises, the next day it is reported that there are rats between the wooden rafters. Oh yes, and the shower? A stone vessel with ice-cold water that the girlfriend happily throws over The Inquisitor's body. And in the morning – way too early, before sunrise, repeating that ritual. Mmm, nice but showering together in Pattaya is a lot more fun.
The following days, De Inquisitor often wanders through the area. He doesn't know anyone but everyone knows him. Many want to have a chat, which leads to hilarious situations. What first seemed like rickety houses turned out to be picturesque and even reasonably maintained homes. The fact that the animals often stay under it is both convenient and economical - they do not have to build an extra barn and they have the animals directly at hand to take them to grazing pastures. The building plot is examined, a mattress is purchased – the back of a farang cannot hold that bamboo mat, the mother begins to become acquainted with The Inquisitor's strange brain and even stranger humour.
His girlfriend wants to transform him into an Isaan-farang as soon as possible and is unrelenting about dealing with people, regarding language and culture. No pampering, no extra caution. Enter the rice fields on slippers. Going to catch frogs in the woods after a rain shower, but they also attract snakes, a close encounter means that the slippers are replaced by 'bottinekes' – Flemish for boots.
The Inquisitor begins to learn about coarse Isan cuisine, even having fun that collecting breakfast eggs is like a daily Easter : the chickens roam freely, so put them where they want and you have to go find them. That the fish has to be caught first.
That steak can be eaten tomorrow because a farmer slaughters a cow that morning, you can go and see how they do it ti-rak.
That chicken will be eaten in a moment, but first catch one. That there is only drink in the small fridge present, but that they are still walking around with vegetables in their hands within ten minutes. Mushrooms from the forest. Farang-unknown vegetables of various plants and shrubs.
And then for additional flavors and vitamins: red ants with their eggs. Frogs. Little birds. Snake – not good. Dog, but The Inquisitor won't find out until later. If only he shouldn't have announced that he wanted to give it a try.
After a week, The Inquisitor's prejudices have disappeared. These are nature people, living today. They want to be happy. Who cherish their culture.
Who share everything with each other without exception, and also more or less expect that from you. But we have so much more of everything that we think they are draining us. And even if you don't share, they will continue to respect you, after all, you are the foreigner. They will understand my sense of privacy, as long as I don't exaggerate. They will want to taste my cooking skills but luckily they won't like it. And the friend's daughter is so happy that her mother may come back to live in the village after ten years. The Inquisitor has been friends with it from day one, she has the same kind of humor as yours truly.
The Inquisitor decides to ashes. He is satisfied, the girlfriend is delighted, her mother is a little worried. The ride back is a piece of cake. Once in Pattaya, The Inquisitor already longs for the silence of Isaan. But decide to enjoy the warm water in the shower for a while. The screens in the windows. Ratless rafters. And the countless restaurants and bars – he hasn't discovered a single one over there. And starts drawing the building plans.
– Reposted message –
The Inquisitor does not know where the word Boezewush comes from, but does state that it is a Flemish word, the meaning of which he even describes quite accurately. Flemings would not consider it a strange word, he further suggests.
I'm questioning this. Googling the word yields only a dozen hits, and on all pages that I end up after clicking through, I also encounter the Inquisitor himself.
The word is therefore certainly not used with any regularity by (a part of) a population group.
It seems rather that the word originated in the brain of the Inquisitor himself, or perhaps the word was coined and used in his immediate family circle, but it never spread in any meaningful way.
I suppose it's a corruption of bush-bush, meaning bush. Not just bush, but very bush. Bush obviously comes from English and means forest. The use of the word twice in succession, apart from the function of indicating the overwhelming degree of bush, could also be motivated by the fact that in some less developed languages the plural is indicated simply by repeating a word. This is often considered 'primitive', which is why bush-bush also has a pejorative aspect, that is, it is a word with a negative connotation.
In my opinion, the corruption of words that originate from English is more common in Flanders than in the Netherlands. I assume that Flemings - already involved in a language war - attach importance to having a 'real' Flemish word instead of adopting English, from which the enemy could deduce that the language would be too weak to use it. 'translate'. On the other hand, you would expect that the Flemish would rather say 'boots' than 'bottinekes', which is very French.
Be that as it may, we have another word, thanks to our Venerable Heretic Master!
By this he actually means the “Brousse”, but in certain regions you still have deviations in the local dialects.
I immediately understand what the Inquisitor means by “Boezewoesj”. I actually don't think it's a strange word.
http://vlaamswoordenboek.be/definities/term/brousse
Boots are bones with us. Gummi boots are therefore “catsjoewe-bones”.
By the way, bones have many meanings….
Bottine are rather high-closing sturdy shoes. For example, as military wear or mountaineering boots.
http://vlaamswoordenboek.be/definities/term/bottine
The nickname “de Bottinekes” is the Special Assistance Team of the Antwerp police. Named after, indeed, the Bottines they wear as part of their work uniform.
A corruption of 'brousse' appeals to me.
I would almost say: You can feel that on your blocks.
This word is known in the Rupel region, south of Antwerp. Apparently regional.
The first thought I have as an explanation for the origin of the word boezewush is that it is a portmanteau/corruption of the words bush and wasteland.
Then I think it might as well be the corruption of a word from an African language.
I would also like to say that I think the re-posting of this report of the first steps towards a new phase in the life of the Inquisitor is entirely justified.
Sorry, Frans, but I believe that the Inquisitor cannot be blamed here. And, perhaps much less than the Netherlands, Belgium also has a colonial past, being the then “Belgian Congo”. When you talk to ex-colonials you will indeed encounter the “boozewoesj” as well.
Furthermore, I hereby object to your statement that the corruption of words is more widespread in Flanders than in the Netherlands. In the Netherlands, “Englishification” is much more common; some examples?…
We ride the “tram”, you ride the “trem”, we eat “jam”, you eat “jem”…we also do not use the word “überhaupt” (from German)…There are many examples that show that Flemish remains very authentic. And furthermore, dear Frans, “sans rancune”!
Am Flemish but have not heard that word anywhere. However, I know several dialects. Where do you get?
Judging by the reactions, no one will believe this, but it's really true.
When I saw the title of the post, as a Dutchman I immediately recognized the word Boezewoesj and immediately knew what it meant.
Where did I ever learn it? no idea.
So whether this is a Flemish word or not doesn't matter to me, you see, Dutch people and Flemish people are even connected by language!
Nicely described what the Isan Boezewush looks like in the first instance, indeed a Boezewush.
Nico B
In Antwerp they say Sjakkamakka instead of boezwoesj. I didn't know the word.
Nice piece that shows that the love for the Isan is a microbe that the Inquisitor has not let go of. If you know the area and the place where he lives, not much has changed in all that time. With regard to the Inquisitor's use of words, it is apparently the case that the sounds are supplementary in order to be able to place and understand them directly as a Belgian… wherever they may come from and whoever invented them.
Nice piece that shows that the love for the Isan is a microbe that the Inquisitor has not let go of. If you know the area and the place where he lives, not much has changed in all that time. With regard to the Inquisitor's use of words, it is apparently the case that the sounds are supplementary in order to be able to place and understand them directly as a Belgian… wherever they may come from and whoever invented them.
Boezewush is a comprehensive word with no specific meaning and does not in fact mean a particular region. Ordinary : somewhere in a negorij or something like that, can be a small village or simply, somewhere on the farmland.
As a native of Brussels, I understand almost all dialects, both the Belgian (even the, according to us, retarded, Limburgish) and the Dutch (also the Frisian that has subtitles on BVN)
With us they say (in language understandable to everyone)
And if you don't understand it, just SIT it!
Sign language is also a recommended language for all.
Bona.
I think I have come across the word before in the books of Jeff Geeraerts. His books are certainly worth reading if you are interested in what was then the Belgian Congo. I ate them as a young man.