New Estonian word contest challenging food loanwords like ketšup

This year's Estonian word contest Sõnaus turns up the heat on food-related terms, but writer Juku-Kalle Raid says once words take hold, replacing them is hard.
Each year, a new round of Sõnaus invites the public to coin new Estonian-language words and terms. This year, the focus is on food-related vocabulary, as the nationwide neologism contest seeks alternatives for everything from ketšup to brunch.
But MP, poet and food enthusiast Juku-Kalle Raid says language doesn't always cooperate with such efforts, noting that when words have already found their place in a language, they become difficult to replace.
"New words finding their way into a language simply proves that the language is alive," Raid said.
He acknowledged that brunch, or brantš, hasn't settled quite as smoothly into Estonian, but pointed to other examples, questioning whether replacing them is necessary.
"Take borš," he said, referring to the Estonianized word for borscht. "Someone's gotten the urge to change it, but it's nonsense."
For Raid, language is ultimately practical.
"Language is a tool," he said, echoing 20th century Estonian linguist and innovator Johannes Aavik. "Language is nothing more than a machine that helps us understand each other."
Loanwords are nothing new
He noted that Estonian, like many languages, has long evolved by borrowing and adapting words from other languages.

"We can easily go back to the 16th century, because we were an agrarian people whose language lacked the vocabulary we now consider commonplace," Raid said, adding that missing terms were borrowed and reshaped.
The same applies to globally common words like ketchup.
"You could call it some kind of sugary tomato sauce, I guess," he said. "But ketšup is simple and it works."
Raid said he actually welcomes the creativity behind wordsmithing, noting that words like tähtaeg (deadline or due date) must have felt foreign once too. Not all inventions stick, however, even those proposed by influential language reformers like Aavik a century ago.
"Playing with words is evidence of a language's vitality; it shows the language is able to adapt and adopt new words, whether coined or borrowed," Raid said.
But when it comes to words people are already comfortably using, the outcome is predictable.
"It's fun to do as a game," he said. "But if anyone starts trying to change the word borš, it just won't catch on."
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Editor: Neit-Eerik Nestor, Aili Vahtla









