Czech is a Slavic language. It is not mutually intelligible
with Russian: it is barely mutually intelligible with Polish, which is barely
mutually intelligible with Russian. Some Czech words are similar to German, such
as the word “šnek” (“Schnecke”, snail) or “cukr” (“Zucker”, sugar). Having
started to learn Czech more seriously, I found that using Russian words when I
don’t know the Czech word sometimes helps: sometimes, I just get my
pronunciation corrected. Most often, though, I get a blank stare. And
sometimes, the word means something else entirely. Especially interesting are
the examples where the Czech and the Russian words have opposite meanings. When
I started learning Czech, Ondra sent me an email: “Xenia je užasná!”, where the
word “užasná” means “awesome” in Czech and “awful” (ужасная) in Russian.
Similar examples: the word “vůně”, which means (good) smell in Czech, and
“stench” in Russian (вонь). Девка means “girl” in Russian, and "whore" in Czech
(děvka). The Czech word for girl is “dívka”. A foreign friend of Ondra’s once found
out the hard way that when you try to compliment a girl in Czech, you need
to be very careful with your pronunciation.
The orthography of Czech is shallow: almost every sound is consistently
represented by the same letter. In contrast to Polish, there are hardly any
multi-letter rules: when Polish uses sz
or cz to represent the phonemes /ʃ/
and /tʃ/, respectively, the Czechs use the letters š and č. There is only
one multi-letter grapheme: ch is
pronounced as /x/. In dictionaries, ch
is treated as a single letter. Double letters rarely occur: for example, the
words for “address” and “professor” are spelled “adres” and “professor”, respectively. As in German and Russian, final consonants get devoiced. The hačeks on top of vowels (the little v) influence the pronunciation of the
preceding consonant by palatalising it. Vowels are lengthened by čárka, the
lines above the letters, or the circle in the case of ů. Pronunciation-wise, the most complex phoneme is the
pronunciation of the letter ř, which
is a rolled /r/ super-imposed onto a /ʒ/. Czech also has the property of having
many consonants. An entire tongue twister contains no vowels: “strč prst skrz krk” (stick your finger down your throat).
I went to the Czech Republic with Ondra twice, to his
hometown Liberec. After Prague and Brno, Liberec is the third-biggest city of
the Czech Republic. It is surrounded by hills and nature; its landmark is the
mountain Ještěd, with a 60s-style hotel, ski resort, and television tower on
its top. Half-way down the mountain is a more local pub. Entering during the
winter time, my glasses fogged up immediately: I had to take them off for a few
minutes before I could see again. While Ondra was translating the menu, a local
patron came up to as, to ask where we were from. We explained that I was from
Australia, and Ondra was Czech.
“So you’re a Czech?” The local asked. “A real Czech? And your girlfriend is from
Australia?? Congratulations!!” (I guess I will never know whether Ondra’s
achievement was being a Czech, or dating an exotic girl.)
Visiting the local pubs gave me some more opportunity to
practice my Czech. With great effort, I said to the girl at the bar: “Prosím…
jedno velké pivo … a jedno malé pivo… a vodu…”
“You know I can speak English, right?” She replied, with no
accent, and somewhat offended.
“Ale… chtěla
by … učit česky!” I replied,
which defused the situation. (Correct would have been “Chtela bych se učit česky”.)
While I’m
still learning, I can use other languages to communicate when I’m in Liberec.
Most younger people speak English. Older people speak sometimes German, and
sometimes Russian. The Czech accent in German is very prominent. In Eastern Germany,
many comedians were from (then) Czechoslovakia. Consequently, many East Germans
can’t listen to a Czech accent in German without rolling on the floor with
laughter. Ondra learnt German at school (more than English). Interestingly, he
learnt standard German vocabulary, while his parents use words that are common
in East Germany, such as “Sonnabend” for “Samstag” (Saturday). Ondra’s
grandparents learnt German and Russian. Despite the historical conflicts
between the Czech Republic and both Germany and Russia, they are very friendly
and hospitable towards me – by now, they even gave me an affectionate nickname.
They told me what they remembered of Russian: “Раз, два, три, четыре, пять, вышел зайчик
погулять…” (a
children’s poem), and of German: “Jeder Tscheche, der etwas leisten will, muss
die deutsche Sprache erlernen.” – a phrase, which apparently they were drilled
with during the second world war.
Travelling
to the Czech Republic and meeting the local people has been a great
experience so far. I’m looking forward to learning more of the Czech language,
and gaining a deeper insight into everyday life and culture!
