-1-
Up and Down the Mountain
Untranslatability and Space
Untranslatability is one of the parts of the study of languages with the broadest
appeal. Anthropologists make grand theories upon finding Hawaiian has the same word
for uncle and father; students bemoan the fact that Nepali has 10 different ways to say
"you"; psychologists argue about the implications of Mayan having no terms for left and
right; and pretty much everyone perks up their ears when they hear that Eskimo has
dozens of words for snow; even Al Bloom couldn’t resist getting involved when he
studied Mandarin’s lack of a subjunctive tense. (Morgan 1870, Levinson 1999, Martin
1986, Bloom 1981).
"Untranslatability" is a mouthful, and it lacks some finesse. A three-way division is
what we really should be expressing here – one with plenty of gray area but also with
some fairly solid categories. In this paper, I’ll refer to a word that can be reasonably
expressed in another language in one word as "codable" in that language (e.g. German
"augen"= English "eye"). If a word can reasonably be expressed in another language in
one word plus some number of modifier words, it is "markedly codable" – it can be
coded if its counterpart is “marked up.” (e.g. Eskimo "apun"= English "snow on the
ground"). If a word cannot reasonably (without resort to strange circumlocutions) be
expressed in another language, it is "uncodable" (e.g. English "you" cannot be coded in
Nepali, which requires a 2nd person pronoun to also express some level of formality).
2
However weird some of these examples might sound, some of them are a little more
understandable than others. We expect different cultures to have different kinship
systems and terms, or more emphasis on social formality and different forms for
addressing others. We can see that people living in a different environment might make
more distinctions between key factors of that environment that we do. Understanding
space, however would seem to be one of those problems that all humans share (Levinson
2001). We all have to move around in the world, we all have make some mental picture
of where things are, and often communicate that with others. We’ve probably been doing
something like that for a very very long time. It seems stranger, then, that Mayan would
not have words like right and left, but instead use cardinal directions, and then only a
three-way distinction between south, north, and eastorwest (Levinson 1999). It seems
strange that depending on where you are in Iceland, northr (north) can mean northeast,
northwest, east, or even south (Haugen 1957). And it seems very strange that the Kiranti
languages of Nepal are suffused with a marking of the vertical dimension that includes
noun cases for high, low and level.
Kiranti Languages
The Kiranti (Kiraãti) language family comprises some 30 languages (Ebert 1994;
some counts are higher: Hanßon (1991) and Grimes (2000) put the estimate closer to 40)
in the Tibeto-Burman branch of the Sino-Tibetan language family. The term "Rai"
(Raaii) is occasionally used interchangeably (Hanßon 1991) but this grouping is really a
political administrative one – ethnically questionable as it is rejected by some groups
(Bickel 2002) and linguistically inadequate as it excludes Limbu, an important Kiranti
3
language. (See Bickel and Gaenszle 1999 for arguments that the Rai religion, which is
not shared by the Limbu, informs and is informed by the language and in particular
spatial terminology of its practitioners.) It is worth noting that despite the relative
efficacy of “Kiranti” as a linguistic grouping, the term can also refer to certain
geographic, religious, historical or political groupings.
Kiranti languages are spoken in the eastern hills of the Himalayas – mainly Nepal,
although there are speakers in Northern India and reportedly in Bhutan (Grimes 2000).
The Kiranti area is arguably the steepest inhabited terrain in the world, rising from the
Gangetic plain, dozens of feet above sea level, to Mt. Everest, almost 30,000 feet high, in
only about a hundred South-North miles (see appendix 1). This slope is folded into deep
mountain valleys (usually running approximately North-South) on the walls of which the
Kiranti villages are usually arrayed (see appendix 1).
With the exception of Limbu, (with about 250,000 speakers) the Kiranti languages are
not widely spoken nor well documented; serious work has only begun appearing in the
last two decades and there have been grammars published of fewer than a dozen
languages.1
Because of this paucity of data, it is difficult to know how many speakers there are. A
rough estimate (considering data the from Watters 2003, Hanßon 1991, and van Driem
2001) would have to be somewhere around 400,000 speakers. Of that number, about half
would be Limbu speakers and another quarter would be speakers of Bantawa or Sunwar.
1 Allen (1975), Bickel (2002), van Driem (1987 and 1993), Ebert (1994), and Toba (1984) are good
examples of those who have produced much needed language-specific detail about various Kiranti
languages.
4
However, the actual number of fluent speakers is almost certainly much less than
400,000 and falling. In Nepal, there are great social pressures to learn Nepali or English,
and excluding Limbu, all of the Kiranti languages are threatened with extinction (Watters
2002).
table 1. a
tentative
classification of
some major
Kiranti
languages based
on proposals by
Hanßon 1991
and van Driem
2001. (Although
van Driem
makes a
separate major
branch for
Limbu.)
The paucity of data also makes internal classification difficult. However, some
general distinctions have been generally agreed upon (see table 1 and appendix 2), and
some very close relatives have been established (Hanßon 1991, van Driem 2001) but the
mid-level classification remains either non-existent or very fluid.
In general, Kiranti speakers are bi-lingual in Nepali (in more accessible areas often
speaking Nepali preferentially). Because relatively small distances are involved, and
because marriage between subcastes is practiced (in the nominally obsolete Nepali caste
system, Limbu, Sunwar, and Rai are separate castes; Rai is further divided into a number
of subcastes which often roughly correspond to language), speakers of one language
often have considerable knowledge of other Kiranti languages, and one would expect
5
borrowing to be the norm (Katry 2003). Kiranti languages often stay in the home or
village – in the cosmopolitan environment of cities, using Nepali is more practical.
There is considerable variation between Kiranti languages in some grammatical
aspects, but they are generally highly inflected with an elaborate morphology. In the
paradigms Ebert (1994) gives for verb person and number markers in Bantawa, Camling
and Limbu, for example, it is not uncommon to find strings of 5 or more suffixes
(although at 9 morphemes Athpare takes the prize with its negative 1st person exclusive
agent/3rd person non-singular patient suffix -ni-m-get-ni-m-ci-m-ma-ga). This rich
morphology is demonstrated very well in the domain of Kiranti spatial terminology –
information can be transmitted both in the extensive verb affixation (2) and noun
affixation (1). To put it transparently, by extending nouns or a verbs with strings of
suffixes, Kiranti languages can express complex concepts like papa.du.t.nin (“towards

father, who is above us”) or yik.ti /.la.red.u. N (I chased it around and around, hither and
yon) in one word – concepts that, in English, are markedly codable if codable at all.
1 Bantawa
“i Nka papa.du.t.nin khat. Na.ne nana; khana.nin
“I father.UPW.(t).ALL go.1s.OPT e.sister:ADDR you.p
mama.yu.t.nin khar.a.ne,” yi Nma yi N.a nima N.
mother.DWN.(t).ALL go.IMP.OPT” QUOTE say.PT REP
“I’ll go up to Father, and you go down to mother,” she said
2 Yamphu
Tangiya yik.ti /.la.red.u. N
Tangiya chase.around.go_come.stop.>3.EXPS
I chased [the ox] all the way to Tangiya and back.
6
The morphemes -du- in papa.du.t.nin and -yu- in mama.yu.t.nin (1) are examples of what
is perhaps the most remarkable and the most remarked upon spatial morpheme in the
Kiranti languages. All of the Kiranti languages have locative case suffixes which can
attach a vertical dimesion to a noun or noun-like root (substantive). These vertical
locative suffixes come in three types, often indicating a higher location or destination
(UPW), level location or destination (HRZ), or lower location or destination (DWN).2
The suffixes are often expressed as something like -du/dha, -ya/yo/no, and -yu/mu
respectively for indicating high (3), level (4), and low (5). (see table 2).
3 Bantawa
‘ka Na ale dibu N.di khat.ãi,’ lod.yu.ko raicha
‘I today mountain.UPW go.1sNPT tell.p.NML raicha
Today I’ll go up into the mountains,” she said.
4 Thulung
hunu l eks.a to Íka.no reb. Ía
across go.IMP hole.HRZ look.IMP
Go over there and look in the hole!
5 Belhare
unchi khim cua u.rak.mu
their house water its.interior.DWN
Their house down in the river.
Although as suffixes they are bound to a certain position, the same or similar
morphemes are pervasive throughout Kiranti languages, often occurring across the
domains of relational nouns (6), specialized verbs (7, 8), adverbs and demonstratives (see
table 2).
2 The questions “Higher than what? Level with what? Lower than what?” will be addressed in section 3.
7
6 Thulung
diridin.go.yu
lake.inside.DWN
down in the (primeval) lake
7 Limbu
tha N.e /.i· me /dha N.ne /n.ni·?
come_up.PT.Q NEG.come_up.NEG.Q
Did it come up or won’t it?
8 Limbu
tho·.lam yy.a N
up.ABL come_down.1sS:PT
I came down (from above)
In addition to this varied use of the UPW, DWN and HRZ morphemes, Kiranti
languages use adverbs, relational adjectives and specialized verbs that do not seem to
contain the vertical locatives.
In sections 2 and 3, I examine in more depth the ways one Kiranti language handles
vertical space.
8
table 2. Crosslinguistic examples of the UPW, HRZ, and DWN morphemes as they appear in certain
domains. Data are taken from Ebert 1994, Ebert 1999, Rutgers 2000, van Driem 1993 and Gaenszle 1999.
Although data is thin for some languages (Athpare) and others seem to lack some of the forms (Limbu) in
general we see a pattern of a basic demonstrative or relational root taking a suffix of vertical dimension. In
general, the morphemes remain very similar across languages, although we see a clustering of forms
containing nasals in the HRZ and especially the DWN of some of the eastern languages (Limbu, Belhare,
Mewahang, Yamphu) that does to seem to be widely evident in the other branches.
Limbu Bantawa Camling Thulung Khaling
UPW (suffix) -du -dhi -la -tü
HRZ (suffix) -ya -ya -no (-nu) -yo
DWN (suffix) -yu -i -yu (-jy) -yü, -ü
adverb
above dha dha a.la
below ya h.ya a.no dha.yu
across yu h.ui a.yu
demonstrative
up here kçt.tho· o.du u.dhi tä.tü
over here kçt.na o.ya u.kh.ya tä.yo
down here kçt.yo· o.yu u.kh.i tä.yü
up there khEt.tho mo.du tyu.dhi mö.la mä.tü
over there mo.ya tyu.kh.ya mö.no mä.yo
down there khEt.na mo.yu tyu.kh.i mö.yu mä.yü
Dumi Mewahang Belhare Athpare Yamphu
UPW (suffix) -tˆ -tu -(t)taN -tu
HRZ (suffix) -u -yu -(/)ya -yu
DWN (suffix) -ˆ -mu -(p)mu -mu
adverb
above thu thoo
below yaa yo
across yukkokˆ yoo
demonstrative
up here tomtˆ ibbettu
over here tom.b.u ibe/.yu
down here tom.b.ˆ ibe/.mu
up there momtˆ akpettu
over there mom.b.u akpe/yu
down there mom.b.ˆ akpe/mu
9
-2-
Vertical Space in Yamphu Rai
Yamphu (yaamphu) Rai is an Eastern Kiranti language (see fig. 1) spoken in the
upper Arun (aruuN) (see appendix 1). It is closely related to Lohorung and Mewahang,
and like them may have as many as 5000 speakers (Grimes 2000). It is represented by
what may be the most comprehensive grammar of a Kiranti language yet published,
Yamphu (Rutgers 1998) which contains not only an extensive grammatical description,
but also some substantial and varied glossed texts and a lexicon. It is from this volume
that I took all of the data in this section. Wherever possible, I tried to test rules and draw
examples from the large corpus of glossed texts that Rutgers presents, rather than simply
report what was in his grammar.
It seems possible to divide the ways in which Yamphu indicates the vertical
dimension into three broad types. A: grammatically, that is by attaching one of the
vertical locative suffixes we saw above (see table 2) to a substantive. B: lexically or semilexically,
that is with a modifier adjective, a demonstrative or a locative postposition. C:
verbally, that is with specialized verbs, auxiliaries or converbs, or adverbs. I will discuss
each of these in turn.
10
Grammatical
In Yamphu, the HRZ, UPW, and DWN Kiranti vertical locative suffixes occur as,
respectively -yu, -tu, and –mu. The three morphemes can occur in two basic contexts –
with the basic locative (LOC) suffix -pe /, or with the possessive (POS) -æ /æ.
The basic locative -pe / marks the substantive to which it is attached as being place
or destination. One of the vertical locatives affixed directly after -pe / indicates the
vertical location of the object. Rutgers explain the vertical locatives as being relative to
the speaker (so that -tu, for instance, glosses as ‘higher than the speaker’, and -pet.tu
glosses as ‘at/to to a place higher than the speaker) but notes that (in terms of relativity)
“their use in everyday situations is governed by other factors as well.” A way to
categorize some of these “other factors” and the use of the vertical locatives according to
them is proposed in section 3.
The possessive -æ /æ marks the substantive to which it is attached as being in the
possessive case. Similarly to -pe /, -æ /æ can be followed by any of the three vertical
locatives. In this locative context, it usually is rendered as -æ / and marks a more general
area than that referred to by -pe /. That is, where -pe /.mu means “at/to a spot lower,”
-æ /.mu generally means something closer to “at/to an area lower,” and in 9 below
Simma.æ /.yu means something like “across to the area of Simma” while iskul.bet.tu
means “up to the school.”
In practice, it seems that the vertical locative, with either the basic locative or the
possessive, is affixed to a number of substantive types. Perhaps the most common place
in which it occurs is in the names of towns or places (as in 9 and 10 below). In fact, place
11
names are almost always marked with a vertical locative and either the possessive or
basic locative. In Yamphu conversational speech there are plenty of lexemes categorizing
vertical space (see Lexical and Verbal below) which often contain morphemes very
similar to the vertical locatives. However, in this speech domain, the grammatical vertical
locatives, by which I mean the vertical locatives independently affixed to a word (with or
without the basic locative or possessive morphemes), occur very rarely. (With the
interesting exception of place names). A few explanations for this phenomenon spring to
mind:
1. This grammatical case is becoming archaic in the language shifting environment,
and in casual speech, or spoken by "regular people" it is rarely used. (There is also a far
higher proportion of Nepali words in these texts.)
2. This grammatical case has always been reserved for more formal speech and
therefore in casual speech, or spoken by "regular people" it is rarely used.
3. These grammatical categories simply lend themselves less well to conversation
than they do to telling a story – painting a detailed picture of a world where up/down
relationships are details listeners care about.
In other speech domains, the vertical locative affixes are also commonly linked to
concrete objects (10), to more abstract objects (11) and also to pronouns (12).
Although I chose examples that showed both the possessive locative with vertical
locative pattern and the basic locative with vertical locative pattern, the possessive
locative with vertical locative pattern occurs much more commonly in the texts. It may be
that the default is the more general possessive pattern, and that the locative pattern is only
used to intentionally add on the specificity of an exact location.
12
9 mo.ba khad.a.j.i N, khad.a.j.i N Simma.æ /.yu
that. ELA go.PT.DU.EXPS go.PT.DU.EXPS Simma.POS.HRZ
iskul.bet.tu saks.a.j.i N
school.LOC.UPW ascend.PT.DU.EXPS
Then we went on. In Simma we went up to the school.
10 moba khad.a.ro ‘sam.bet.tu khæ·. N.æ,’ lu·s.u.ro
that.ELA go.PT.REP Tibet.LOC.UPW go.EXPS.FCT say..>3.REP
[It] went. ‘I’m going to Tibet,’ he said.
11 igo.sok.pet.tu– hæN pen.didok.m.æt.tu– Na ni·ma
this.top.LOC.UPW you sit.as_if.ATNR.POS.UPW fish cook.INF
khad.a.ro mimm.æn.dok.m.æ /.mu radi ag.a.ro
must.PT.REP down_there.POS.like.ATNR.POS.DWN rug weave.PT.REP
He had to cook the fish up here – just like where you’re sitting – and just like
down there she was weaving the rug.
12 ho N.go.re ka·.go am.be /.yu le·.tt.i N.æ
LCQ.TH.CEF I.TH your.LOC.HRZ come.PF.EXPS.FCT
That’s why I’ve come to you.
13
Semilexical
Another way to indicate vertical space in Yamphu is through what Rutgers classifies
as postpositions (see table 3 for a complete list). Although these structures behave in
many ways similarly to the vertical locative suffixes, they are not necessarily bound to
substantives in the same way, and occur with much less frequency and regularity.
Because of space considerations, I will only look at the postpositions that seem most
relevant to verticality: -ho Nsi /, rada N, -sok, and so N.
-kæk beside
-ho Nsi/ inside
rada N bottom
-ra N beneath
-sok top
so N above
-æ N back
rum middle
-yim between
-he /ma ~ -he /ma N side
-ra·ji toward
table 3. The locative postpositions in Yamphu
As indicated in table 3, -ho Nsi / has the meaning of inside, and can be affixed
similarly to the basic locative, after a substantive. It seems that any of the three vertical
locative suffixes can be added to this (i.e. to go from khim.ho Nsi / (inside the house) to
khim.ho Nsi /yu (over inside the house).
Like most of the other locative structures in Yamphu, -ho Nsi / can affix to both
destinations (as in 13) and locations (as in 14)
14
13 phe·ri pira gundri tu·.ho khim.ho Nsi /.yu huliya.ba læ· /.a.ma
pheri pira gundri be.LCQ house.inside.HRZ hulnu.NOM do.PURP.INF
hæ·.ye
must.FCT
Moreover, if there are seats and mats, you have to put them away inside the
house.
14 nuha.ba li·.nuN kho·.j.e / sauk u·k.nu N sasok ima N
nuhaunu.NOM become.SOC s/he.NS.ERG skin peel.SOC entrail what
jammai ho Nsi /.yu.ha ca N.bes.u.ji
jammai inside.HRZ.PLNR take_out.RES.>3.3NS
After we had bathed, they cut the hide and took out the guts and everything
inside.

However, in some languages (e.g. English) “inside” seems to be conceptually, if not
grammatically, linked to “down.” The amenability of -ho Nsi / to taking any of the vertical
locative suffixes seems at first to preclude this sort of link. However if we consider the
sentences below, it seems that perhaps the link is there: a verbal form indicating
“down”ness is used not only when the vertical locative suffix agrees with it (16), but also
when there is no vertical locative suffix (17, a more general sentence from a recipe), and
when the vertical suffix seems to disagree (15).
15 mo.ban.no/ ‘lo buni.o, hago igo.be / hæ N bora.ho Nsi.yu
that.ELA.EXF ‘well bond_friend.ARQ, now this.LOC you bora.inside.HRZ
pe /.yus.e!’
pass.down.IMP
Then [the bear] said, “Friend, you get into this sack.”
16 swa·ma.hi.jhai ) dai.ho Nsi /.mu pe /.yus.a.mi.ro
bee.NS.CTP dahi.inside.DWN pass.down.PT.3PL.REP
15
As for the bees, they entered into the curds.
17 wadiha Nma æm.ma khæ·. N.ha
leaven_herb put_down must
You must put in the leaven herb.
These data show at least the possibility of a conceptual link between “inside” and
“down” in Yamphu, at a level that perhaps completely bypasses that of the vertical
locative suffixes. Other Kiranti languages hint at this, too: Allen (1972) translates the
Thulung go (which also can take any of the vertical locative suffixes) as “within” and
includes within the definition the form dhaguiu “lower down” but no other forms
indicating vertical dimensions, and Ebert (1999) notes for the Bantawa “inside” only a
form utilizing the noun for “hole,” arguably a concept innately associated with downness.
The morpheme rada N carries the meaning of below, and is found with the basic
locative -pe /. It can either be affixed to a substantive or appear independently (as in 18).
18 mo.ba rada N.be /.mu ikko kay.æ /æm.be / akma tu·.ye
that.ELA below.LOC.DWN one blacksmith.POS.LOC pig be.FCT
lu·.haks.a.mi
say.send.PT.3PL
They told us that there was a pig, down below at a blacksmith’s.
Like rada N, sok “top” is used with the basic locative. It generally attaches to some
concrete object that has inherent topness, and seems to be the counterpart of -ra N (see
table 3).
19 mo.ba si Nbu.sok.pe/ sa N. /itth.o N lokha N. /it.c.u
that. ELA treee.top.LOC ascend.PF.LCQ look.PF.DU.>3
They climbed in a tree and looked [around].
16
Similarly to the other postpositions discussed here, soN (above) attaches to the basic
locative and can occur with it as an independent word or as a postposition. In the example
below (20) it is part of a sentence in which, although it is not obligatory to do so (see 21),
the high verticality is marked not once or twice but three times – with an adverb, with
so N, a postposition, and also with the UPW vertical locative suffix, -tu. The dual marking
in so N.bet.tu here may be a way of agreeing with the far-distal metto N (which is discussed
below). That is, perhaps the distancing force of “further_up” implies an “above an
location that is already higher than me.” It is worth noting that in Yamphu as in many of
the Kiranti languages (Ebert 1994), relatives are not common – ‘above’ is most often
used without a reference point, i.e. independently, (21) being an exception.
20 metto N so N.bet.tu sip.pe·.tt.æ
further_up above.LOC.UPW fall.RES.PF.FCT
[The snake] was a bit further up.
21 mo.ba Ri Ngatti.æ /æ khim.so N.be / less.i N.æm.be /...
that.ELA Ri Ngattiya.POS house.above.LOC come.EXPS.FCT.LOC…
Then I arrived above RiNgattiya’s house…
Lexical
As we saw in table 2, the Yamphu demonstratives have, through combining with the
vertical locative suffixes, potential for an extensive structure. Indeed, Yamphu
demonstratives distinguish three degrees of distance: proximal (here), distal (there), and
far-distal (way over there). Combined with the three vertical locative suffixes this gives a
set of three by three structures (see tables 4 and 5). Several of the demonstratives have
short and long forms; in a distribution similar to that of the POS+vLOC/LOC+vLOC (see
17
above) distinction, the short forms refer to a more general area while the long forms refer
to a specific spot.
basic +HRZ +UPW +DWN
proximal igobe / ~ ibe / ibe /yu ibettu ibe /mu
distal akkobe / ~
akpe /
akpe /yu akpettu akpe /mu
far-distal mobe / mobe /yu mobe ttu mobe /mu
table 4. demonstratives of place
basic +HRZ +UPW +DWN
proximal igobe / ~ ibe / igi /yu igindu ~
igitttu
igimmu ~
igi /mu
distal akkobe / ~
akpe /
akki /yu akkittu ~
akkindu
akki /mu ~
akkimmu
far-distal mobe / mi /yu ~
miyu
mittu ~
mindu
mi /mu ~
mimmu
table 5. demonstratives of direction
Interestingly enough, the most common of the demonstratives to actually occur in the
texts are the far-distals (as in 22, 23, and 24)
22 khi·.di. /os.e miyu hi N.si/ ti·.ra.e
carry.apply.PURP.IMP over_there feed.SUP go.go_come.IMP
Carry the stuff, go over there and feed him and come back.
23 …mindu.ra yo Na op.y.ok.pe·.tt.u
…up_there.MED water spill.UFM.bring_down.RES.PF.>3
…water was suddenly spilt from above.
24 mo.ba mimmu ma·ks.æ gottha.bek.ko…
that.ELA down_there bear.POS goth.LOC.TH…
Down in the shed of the bear…
Rutgers also lists a number of demonstratives he calls demonstratives of relative place
and motion (see table 6). Again, although here the distinction between distal and fardistal
has collapsed, the most common terms in the texts are the distal/far-distal ones (as
in 21, 25, and 26)
18
ke /yoæræ N on this side
kettoæra N up on this side
ke /moæræ N down on this side
ke /yo N further over this way
ketto N further up this way
ke /mo N further down this way
me /yoæræ N over on the other side
mettoæræ N up on the other side
me /moæræ N down on the other side
me /yo N further away
metto N further up
me /mo N further down
table 6. The relative demonstratives.
25 me /yo N sokkhuma cupt.a.j.u.ro
futher_lev Urtica_dioica meet.PT.DU.>3.REP
A little further along they met a stinging nettle
26 metto N wa /i N cupt.u.ji.ro
further_up egg meet.>3.3NS.REP
Further up they met an egg.
Verbal
Several Yamphu verbs have correlates or forms (variously called converbs or
auxiliary verbs) that can be affixed to other verbs. These range from fairly simple to
elaborate, and denote concepts as far ranging as doing something prematurely or to death,
or to excess, or almost, or incompletely. In the domain of space, the can denote such
concepts as circumnavagant motion (2) there-and-back-again motion (2) and unforeseen
motion (23, 34, 35). There are 5 basic verbs in Yamphu that indicate verticality, which
can occur either independently or as an auxiliary verb modifying another verb: sa Nma
19
‘ascend’ and yu·ma ‘descend’; kæ /ma ‘come up’, u Nma ‘come down’ and apma ‘come
levelly’. Yamphu is one of the Kiranti languages in which none of the verbs of vertical
motion are separable into any distinct morphemes indicating their verticality or other
elements (unlike certain examples esp. in Limbu and Bantawa, e.g. (7) (8)).
The first set of these verbs sa Nma ‘ascend’ and yu·ma ‘descend’, indicate general
upwards or downwards motion. They can occur independently (27, 28) or as an auxiliary
verb, affixed to and modifying a main verb. It seems that the auxiliary forms can affix to
a wide range of main verbs (e.g. 29, 30) with pe /.yus (‘pass down’, as in 15, 16) being
one of the more common combinations.
27 saks.a.j.i N
ascend.PT.DU.EXPS
We went up.
28 mo.ba me /mo N yu·s.a.j.i N
that.ELA further_down descend.PT.DU.EXPS
So we went down a bit further.
29 ‘mo.be / khak.sa.be·.tt.æ’ ka·.s.a.j.i N
that.LOC pierce.ascend.RES.PF.FCT cry.PT.DU.EXPS
“It’s wormed itself up into there,” we cried.
30 phe·ri paidhæk.pe / pey.yus.a.ro
pheri seat.LOC sit.down.PT.REP
Then he sat down on the seat
It is interesting to note that the second set of these verbs, kæ /ma ‘come up’ (31),
u Nma ‘come down’ (32), and apma ‘come levelly’ (33), conflate the values of vertical
directionality and motion towards some point, often the speaker (see section 3 for
discussion). However, the gloss of “come (vertical)” is slightly misleading for the
auxiliaries that derived from these verbs can indicate either intransitive motion ‘moving
20
(oneself) towards a reference point’ (34, 35, 36) or transitive motion ‘moving something
(else) towards a reference point’ (i.e. closer to “bring” – 37, 38, 39).
31 mo.ba kæ /ma.so kissima lu·.ye
that.ELA come_up.INF.too fear be.FCT
We are afraid to come up.
32 mo.ba uks.a.j.iN kancha.nu N
that.ELA come_down.PT.DU.EXPS kancha.SOC
So Kancha and I came down.
33 mo.ba dailo.ba ab.a.ro
that.ELA dailo.ELA come_levelly.PT.REP
Then she came over from the door.
34 hununununu hu·.ya N.gad.a.mi.ro
zoom-zoom scatter.UFM.come_up.PT.3PL.REP
Suddenly “zoom-zoom” they swarmed up.
35 mo.ba mindu.ra thutta.so yokto /
that.ELA up_there.MED trunk.too with_a_crash
ciy.y.oks.a.ro
collapse.UFM.come_down.PT.REP
So the log suddenly fell down from above with a crash.
36 mo.ba te·. /ab.i N.ma, siN ya N. /apt.u. N.ma
that.ELA turn.com.EXPS.12NS firewood carry.bring_levelly.>3.EXAG.12NS
Then we came back and brought firewood with us
37 mo.ba sæk.ktt.a.j.u N
that.ELA pull.bring_up.PT.DU.>3.EXAG
Then we reeled in [the line].
38 Ragala.ba um.mukt.a.ju, Ka·makhola lend.a.ji
Ragala.ELA trail.bring_down.PT.DU.>3 Kama_khola come.PT.DU
They traced [the dowsing rods] from Ragala down and came to the Kama river.
39 le /y.a·pt.u.ro pa·kkhæ /.yu
abandon.UFM.bring_levelly.>3.REP outside.HRZ
She left him outside
21
table 7. The auxilliary forms of the verbs of vertical movement
- /ab- ~ - /ap- come levelly
- /apt- ~ - /ap- bring levelly
- /ug-/- /uks- ~ - /uk- come down
- /ukt- ~ - /uk- bring down
-kad- ~ -kæt- ~ -kæ· come up
-kætt- ~ -kæt- ~ -kæ·- bring up
-yus- ~ -yu- ~ -yu·- descend/downward motion
-saks- ~ -sa N- - ascend/upward motion
22
-3-
Clearing a Space:
a model for understanding spatial terminology
Reference Frames
In order to clearly discuss Kiranti ways of categorizing space, (i.e. “what exactly are
they talking about?”) which fall somewhere between markedly codable and uncodable in
English, we need to delve back into semantics. There have been many strategies proposed
to formalize spatial concepts like front, up, and south, (see Levinson 1999 for review) but
most seem to converge on a three-way distinction into something like Levinson’s (1996,
revised in Levinson 1999) intrinsic, relative, and absolute frames of reference.
In this terminology intrinsic refers to those locative statements that refer to the innate
qualities of a reference object – for example, the front of a house. We know that houses
have fronts, and can use this knowledge in English to say, for instance “the ball is in front
of the house” (with the same meaning as “the ball is at the front of the house.” Because
the intrinsic frame of reference relies on the object’s qualities, some objects don’t work:
“*the ball is at the front of the tree” is unacceptable because trees do not, canonically,
have fronts.
However, the astute reader will be thinking that in English we can indeed say “the
ball is in front of the tree.” This is an example of the relative frame of reference, and the
confusion that can occur between reference frames when they share vocabulary.3 Here we
3 Henceforth, I will refer to the first, intrinsic use of the term “front” as “frontj” and the relative use of the
term as “fronti”
23
are not saying “the ball is at the frontj of the tree,” but rather “the ball is in between me
and the tree.” This is the essence of the relative frame: locative statements are informed
by the location of the speaker. Of course, statements like “the ball is in fronti of me” also
fit into this category.
The final reference frame in the three-category system is the absolute. Absolute
frames of reference rely neither on the speaker’s position nor on the qualities of reference
objects, but rather are fixed coordinates that will yield the same naming pattern regardless
of where the speaker is. The classic example of an arbitrary frame of reference in English
is cardinal directions: North, South, East and West.
This three-category system of reference frames is in wide use. It has been presented
and used, in a variety of areas from anthropology to psychology to linguistics, with what
are essentially minor modifications in terminology, by (for instance) Miller and Johnson
–Laird (1976), Landau and Jackendoff (1993) and Carlson-Radvansky (1993). However,
when trying to understand the idea of reference frames and apply them to the data from
Kiranti languages, I came across the same problem as Levinson (1999) and Bickel (1997)
– namely, the above distinction between fronti and frontj. Levinson’s model, as I
presented above, attempts to solve the problem by changing what had previously been
called “deictic” to “relative.” I ended up understanding the problem in a different way –
one that turned out to be quite like what Bickel (1997) suggests. He goes as far as to
separate out different values for the origin of the coordinate frame, the secondary
reference object, and the “ground” or primary reference object. However, for his more
anthropological purposes, he seems not to need this distinction after all, and moves away
from the schematic towards a name-centered model (i.e. he re-conflates the values into a
24
system divided into named reference frames: “egomorphic,” “personmorphic,”
“ecomorphic” etc.)
I wish to make some finer distinctions between the meanings of locatives in some
cases, and broader categories in others. To readily account for all of the data, I will
propose a slight modification to the models of Bickel and Levinson, a more schematic
approach, that allows me to frame some unanswered questions about vertical space.
The World of Axles and Fixes…
…is a strange place. For the moment we’ll think of it as a two dimensional plane, on
which are scattered random objects (trees, balls, chairs etc.). If I want to point out one of
these objects (“which ball?”) I use a coordinate frame, a sort of large cross with long
telescoping arms that hovers above certain objects. Each of its arms is marked with a
directional word: perhaps “right,” “left,” “front” and “back” or “north,” “south,” “east”
and “west.” If the coordinate frame happens to be hovering over a tree, and its arms are
marked with the words North, South, East, and West, I simply have to see which arm
passes over the ball I’m trying to differentiate, (say this particular ball is under the arm
marked “East”) and combine the various pieces: “which ball? the ball that is east of the
tree.”
This is fine, but what about our problem, “fronti” and “frontj”? In that case, the other
coordinate frame would be centered on the tree, the “right,” “left,” “front,” “back” frame.
But a tree doesn’t have a intrinsic front, so our model should produce “fronti,” what
Levinson called relative, “the ball is to the left of the tree from my point of view.”
25
Here, on closer examination, we find that the place at which the coordinate frame
passes over the tree is different than the place where it passes over the ball, and where it
passes over the viewer. The coordinate frame’s origin is centered over the tree, and it is
attached in such a way that if the tree were to rotate, the coordinate frame would be
unaffected (and vice versa) but if the tree were to get up and walk off, the coordinate
frame would stay centered above it, like a giant propeller beanie. That is, the tree
functions like an axle to the coordinate frame. The ball is not attached at all. However,
the viewer, off on one arm, is fixed tightly to that arm. If the viewer (or “fix”) was to
move in any way that wasn’t just toward or away from the tree (in which case the
telescoping arm would function smoothly) it would rotate the entire coordinate frame as
it moved. (See figures 2 and 3).
To put it more clearly: an axle meets the coordinate frame at its origin. If the axle
moves orthogonally, the coordinate plane moves with it. If the axle rotates, the coordinate
plane will not be affected. A fix may be affixed anywhere to a coordinate plain. If the fix
makes a significant movement4 then it will be turning the coordinate frame about it the
axle. Ideally, all of our semantically different situations could explained with different
axle/fix structures – if the axle is set to the speaker, or the addressee, or some other ego (a
character in a story for example), or another object; or if the fix is set to the speaker,
addressee, etc.
It makes a lot more sense with diagrams:
4 For a fix, motion directly towards or away from its axle is usually not significant – it is simply collapsing
or expanding the coordinate frame arm which it fixed to without really changing the relationship between
the fix, the axle, and the coordinate frame. Given this (i.e. discarding motion the increases or decreases the
distance between the fix and axle) the only significant motion for the fix is to move on the perimeter of a
circle whose center in the axle and of which the section of coordinate frame arm from the axle to the fix
forms a radius. Because of this constrained significant motion, I will often refer to fix motion as
“swinging.”
26
figure 1. a key to the world of axles and fixes.
27
figure 2. a b
The generalized diagram that applies to statements such as “the ball is in fronti of the
tree.” The axle is the reference object (a=o), a tree in our example. The fix is the ego, in
this case the speaker (f=e(1))5. The target (ball) is sitting in the zone of “front.” The arrows
and 2b indicate how the axles and fixes work in motion, and offer a test of the system. If
the fix swings up as illustrated, the “front” zone will be rotated off the target and the
L(eft) zone will be rotated on. This corresponds with speaker intuition – in the situation
illustrated in 2b, we would describe the target as being to the lefti, that is “The ball is to
the left of the tree.”
5 The ego is often the first person (that is, the speaker: e1) e.g. “the ball in front of the tree,” however the
second person (addressee: e2) can also be indicated e.g. in imperative “(You) get the ball to the (your) left
of the tree!” The ego can also indicate pretty much anything else, explicitly “The ball to left of the tree
from that badger’s perspective.” For purposes of broad transcription, e will be satisfactory.
28
figure 3. a b c
Generalized diagram illustrating the use of “frontj.” In 3a the fix is the object (a chair,
say) and the axle is the same object (a=f=o). The target falls in the “front” zone. If the fix
moves, it will rotate the CF around the axle (rotating the S(ide) zone onto the target, as
predicted by speaker intuition) – the fact that the fix and axle refer to the same object is
coincidental. Also, if the axle moves it will carry the CF with it, moving the “back” zone
onto the target (again congruent with speaker intuition). Note that the ego is not fixed or
axled onto the CF and therefore cannot affect it.
This example is directly analogous to that of the most basic (Pederson 1998) English
distinction “(to my) right, left, front or back.” In that case, the speaker would be both the
axle and the fix (e.g. if you turn or if you move orthogonally, the domain of things “in
front of you” changes).6
6 This speaker centered form can be formalized as f=a=e1. Of course, this can be applied to the second
person too (f=a=e2), leading to perhaps the most famous example in the colloquial English of why we need
all of this mess of axles and fixes “Your left or my left?”
29
figure 4. a b
A generalized diagram of cardinal directions (still in 2 dimensions – for non-
Euclidean geography see below). The reference object is the axle. Despite Levinson’s
(1999) description of abstract reference frames, there is no fix (i.e. a=o, f=ø). This means
that one the coordinate frame is set7 the CF will not rotate. As illustrated in 4b, if the
location of the reference object changes orthogonally the zone over the target can change
(in this case to west) but the CF remains, like a compass needle, floating unrotatably
above the axle.
This same basic axle/fix structure also applies to egocentric cardinal directions (e.g.
north of me), if the speaker is the axle.
7 That is, it most be positioned with the “north” zone pointing north, just as in fig. 3 the coordinate frame
had to be positioned with the “front” zone pointing away from the wide back end of the chair and when
using a f=a=e construction “front” is set as “e’s ventral side.”
30
figure 5. The axle/fix model can also be applied to simple 1 dimensional locatives. In
this case the telescoping nature of the CF arms is illustrated. This example is extensible to
several other cases, including both well-attested and impromptu landmark-based locatives
(e.g. homeward/ libraryward), ablative and mediative (through or from) cases, and even
non–Euclidean cardinal directions (see below).
Its form (a=e, f=o) is the last of the four broad possibilities (see fig 2. for a=o, f=e, fig
3. for a=f=e and a=f=o, and fig. 4 for f=ø).
31
Axles and Fixes: Into the third dimension
Cardinal map directions (on a 2D plane) are explained by a f=ø structure. But what
about non-Euclidean geography? Can this model move into the third dimension? It seems
it can – consider the sentence “the target is south of me (on the globe).” We can
understand this best by setting up the same structure as immediately above: a=e, f=o. The
speaker is the fix and the south pole is the axle. The only difference here is that the CF,
rather than being flat, is curved: mapped to the spherical earth.
This sort of 3D application is useful in dealing with our locatives of interest, those of
vertical placement. Consider the English locatives “up” and “down.” Now that our world
has three dimensions, we can give the CF a third arm. Analogous to the axle/fix structure
for map directions and globe directions, we two treatments for up and down.
The first, like that of map directions, is fixless. The arms of the CF extend up and
down from their origin at the axle, and if the axle rotates the arm does not turn with it (for
example if the axle in question is a standing person who lies down, the CF will move a
little orthogonally, but will not rotate (see figure 6).
32
Figure 6. The fixless up/down CF will not rotate as the axle does, but will follow it as it moves
orthogonally.
The axle, of course, is not always the speaker – it can be the addressee (e2, as in “look
up”), the expected or habitual position of the target (te, as in “look down there, he’s up in
a tree”), or any reference object (as in “…above the badger”).
The other treatment, in the real world where we live on the surface of a sphere,
simply has the “down” arm fixed at the center of the earth – however we poor axles may
twist and turn, “down” remains synonymous with “towards the earth’s center.”
Axles and Fixes: Yamphu in the Model
How do our data from Yamphu fit into this model? Does the model illuminate them at
all? For the most basic situations, it seems almost unnecessary to frame them in the world
of axles and fixes. Consider (40). In akkhuma.be / ‘at/in the earth’, the simplicity of the
33
basic locative and the irrelevance of the speaker or viewers role render the a/f structure
almost pointless. In essence it’s a one dimensional concept, a point – just the target.
40 cam.jari pi·.nuN kani N.æ/ mo.ba cam akkhuma.be /
paddy.seed give.SOC wepe.ERG that.ELA paddy soil.LOC
tub.u. N.ma
sprinkle.>3.EXAG.12NS
After [God] gave us this seed, we proceeded to sow it in the earth.
However, as soon as a vertical locative suffix is added (41), the a/f structure unfolds
into two-dimensions – something that is clear and potentially helpful.
41 Mottimb.ætt.tu ca·r ma·na siya yok.ti.be·. /.n.æ
Mottimba.POS.UPW caar maanaa husked_rice seek.apply.DAT.PF.1>2.FCT
I’ve looked for four maanaa of rice for you up at Mottimba’s.
To understand this why Mottimba is marked as UPW, we now have a use for our a/f
structure. The subject’s location is set as the axle, with Mottimba’s being the target. The
fix, in this case, as with many of the medium-scale uses of the vertical locative suffixes,
is a hilltop. This case is similar to that above of cardinal directions on a spherical earth
(a=e, f=o). Mottimba’s falls into the “up” zone. Depending on the hilltop set as fix, the
scale of the sentence can change. Indeed, at some point of broadening scope, the fix may
become as far off and abstract as to make the a/f structure effectually fixless. That is, the
concept of North (which Ebert (1999) asserts is rarely used in Kiranti languages)
becomes conflated with that of “up.” This would explain otherwise curious sequences
like (41) and may address the skepticism with which Thulung speakers greeted the idea
that England was far to the north but also had farmland and a mild climate (Allen 1972).
The sequence below is from a folk tale in which an animate needle is journeying up to
34
Tibet, being met and joined by other companions on his way. The tale is formulaic and
repetitive, and although he is “going up to Tibet” (41.1, 41.3, 41.5) after his first two
meetings the travelers go “further levelly”(41.2, 41.4). It is only after the third meeting
that the travelers go “further up” (41.6). This would seem to provide evidence that in
some cases, the UPW suffix indicates a fixless structure rather than one that is fixed on
an actual hilltop. (Alternately, this could be an expression of the Haugen effect, which is
briefly discussed in section 4.)
41.1 mo.ba khad.a.ro ‘sam.bet.tu khæ·. N.æ,’ lu·s.u.ro
that.ELA go.PT.REP Tibet.LOC.UPW go.EXPS.FCT say.>3.REP
Then “I’m going up to Tibet” he said.
…
41.2 me /yo N sokkhuma cupt.a.j.u.ro
further_levelly nettle meet.PT.DU.REP
Further along they met a nettle.
…
41.3 ‘sam.bet.tu khæ·. N.æ,’ ka·s.a.ro
Tibet.LOC.UPW go.EXPS.FCT cry.PT.REP
“Going up to Tibet”he cried
…
41.4 me /yo N thutta cupt.u.ro
further_levelly trunk meet.>3.REP
Further along they met a log.
…
41.5 ‘ka·go sam.bet.tu khæ. N.æ,’ ka·s.a.ro
I.TH Tibet.LOC.UPW go.EXPS.FCT cry.PT.REP
“I’m going up to Tibet” he cried”
…
41.6 metto N wa /iN cupt.u.ji.ro
further_up egg meet.>3.3NS.REP
Further up they met an egg.
In the above examples it is ambiguous whether the axle is the subject or the speaker is the
real axle. That is, in the first example the speaker and the subject are the same entity, and
in the second, I argued that Tibet was UPW no matter what the axle is. However, looking
35
at other sequences, it becomes clear that the default axle is the subject. For instance, to
continue the folktale above, once the travelers are quite far up into the mountains, they
find a house (of the folktale buffoon, the much abused bear). Inside the house they
secrete themselves in various places. (e.g. 16, 42)
42 thutta.dhappa.jhai tagar.æt.tu sit.ti.ghad.a.ro
trunk.big.CTP threshold.POS.UPW hang.up.go.PT.REP
hung (itself) up on the threshold
The vertical locative suffixes marking each of these place would be incomprehensible if
they were referring to the speaker, as all of these events are happing in the speaker’s
UPW zone. For that matter, a sequence as simple as “passing down in” (16) and then
“swarming back up”(35) does not work unless the axle is set to the subjects. Then their
sequential destinations (targets) which would all occur in the same zone for the speaker,
fall into the appropriate zones.
However, the speaker is certainly the axle in some occasions – for instance when the
speaker and the subject are the same or when there is no subject. The speaker is also often
the fix, as seems to be often dictated by the specialized verbs kæ /ma ‘come up’, u Nma
‘come down’ and apma ‘come levelly’.
Take, for example, the passage below, describing how the town of Uva was founded,
related by a resident of Uva.
43.1 ikko.jhai ) kæ /.nu N Walu N.he /ma khad.a
one.CTP come_up.SOC Walu N.side go.PT
One came up (from Bahrabise) and went toward Walu N.
43.2 ikko i.dok pa N.gad.a
one this.like go_behind.come_up.PT
One came up across the ridge here.
36
43.3 ikko.jhai) minmu.no / pey.yag.a
one.CTP down_there.EXF sit.stay.PT
One stayed behind down there.
43.4 mo.ba ikko.jhai ) Ma Nba-khim, ikko.jhai ) Ma Nji-khim
that.ELA one.CTP Ma Nba-khim, one.CTP Ma Nji-khim
One was Ma Nba-khim (clan), one was Ma Nji-khim (clan).
43.5 mo.dok læ· /.nu N mo.ba kani i.be / pen.i
that.like do.SOC that.ELA wepi this.LOC sit.12PL
After doing that, we stayed here.
43.6 Walu N.be /.mu.ha.ji Walu N.be /.mu.no /
Walu N.LOC.DWN.PLNR.NS Walu N.LOC.DWN.EXF
Those of Walu N down below are down in Walu N.
WaluN is downstream, south, and presumably of lower elevation. Bahrabise is even
further south, and presumably of even lower elevation. How do we explain the coming up
towards Valun, a place that is later categorized twice as below? If we suppose that the
verb kæ /ma acts as a trigger to set the speaker as the fix and the subject of the sentence,
as usual, is the axle, then 43.1 and 43.2 are explained.
In 43.3 and 43.5, the necessarily self-referential demonstratives minmu and ibe / seem
to reset the axle – the coordinate frame of up and down axled onto the speaker takes
effect, and both Bharabise (43.4) and WaluN (43.6) fall into the “down” zone.
37
A similar instance:
44.1 mo.ba ap.pes.a.j.i N
that.ELA come.RES.PT.DU.EXPS
Then we came this way.
44.2 ap.pe.nu N mo pusæ· /.mi kha i·.sæ·/ i·.sæ· /
come.RES.SOC that snake.GEN word say.SMG say.SMG
ab.a.j.i N
come.PT.DU.EXPS
We came, talking all the while about the snake.
44.3 ab.a.j.iN Na· /ho Nm.æ /.yu less.a.j.i N
come.PT.DU.EXPS Na· /ho Nma.POS.HRZ come.PT.DU.EXPS
We came and arrived at Na· /ho Nma.
Although the use of apma (come across a flat plane) seems at first strange, the
problems can be resolved by realizing the temporal separation that keeps the “we”
implied in the dual affix to apma does not exactly include the speaker, but rather a past
version of the person who happens to be speaking. That is, the idea of “speaker” must
contain both temporal and physical identity. With that concept, we can easily set the
speaker as the fix, as “come” implies, and the “we” as the axle, just as above. There’s
also an interesting possibility here that apma might have another meaning as “arrive” (at
least according to Rutger’s gloss), which meaning it would share with the English (as in
“at last we came to the finish line”).
In conclusion, we can perhaps start to consider specific morphemes as marking or
triggering their words for certain a/f structural roles. LOC (or POS, in the locative sense)
specifies a target. The addition of a vertical locative requires that there also be an axle,
from whose coordinate frame the UPW, DWN or HRZ is determined. The default axle
38
seems to be the subject, but in certain conditions, it is set to the speaker or to other
objects. The specialized verbs kæ /ma, u Nma and apma set the fix to the speaker. Other
objects, both tangible and less, can fill the roles of target, axle and fix; but these
morphemically dictated ones may be the most basic.
39
-4-
The Final Frontier:
questions and conclusions
Mapping and Metaphor
One question of particular interest (Allen 1972, Bickel 1997, Bickel and Gaenszle
1999) is that of how the vertical terminology of Kiranti languages can be applied in nonspatial
domains. One element of this was already touched on in section 3 – that of the
conflation of the values of UPW and ‘north’. It seems that indeed, far more is connoted,
in a metaphorical sense, but the concepts of UPW and DWN than just vertical dimension.
Ebert (1994, 1999) and Bickel (1997) describe associations in certain Kiranti languages
between the concepts of UPW and purity, austerity, and the male gods, and between
DWN and wealth, abundance, foreigners and the female gods.
Bickel (1997) coined the phrase Haugen Effect, after a concept proposed in Haugen
(1957). Haugen described how in Iceland, the cardinal direction terminology was often
determined based on the ultimate goal of the travel, rather than the immediate canonical
direction. In this way, depending on where you are going (and where you are, for in a
fjord ones choices of where to go are limited) northr ‘north’ can indicate the canonical
directions northeast, northwest, east, or even south. Bickel uses this concept to explain
some curious instances of apparently misapplied vertical locative suffixes in the Kiranti
language Belhare. This could also explain the problem in (41). Either way, by metaphor
or by Haugen effect, the messiness doesn’t fit within the a/f structure but rather modifies
40
it. The most dramatic example of this mapping is the very essence of Kiranti vertical
coding: it is actually diagonal coding. “UPW” and “DWN,” whatever their forms, will
refer much more often to “uphill from” or “downhill from” than the canonical vertical
above (e.g. (21) “meeting above the house” is meeting uphill from it, (11) the “top” of the
house (see below) is not the roof but the uphill side.)
On a smaller scale, Ebert and Bickel both expand on Allen’s (1972) observations in
regard to the mapping of vertical terminology onto Kiranti houses. It seems houses have a
top and bottom, depending on where the hearth/altar, the holiest part of the house, is. We
can see this demonstrated nicely in Yamphu in (11), where igo.sok.pet.tu
(this.top.LOC.UPW) or “here at the top” clearly refers to the hearth/altar, as the character
being described is in the midst of cooking.
There are certainly some intriguing ways in which the Kiranti spatial terms are
mapped onto other, non spatial domains. Of course, this is be no means limited to these
languages. A moment of thought will turn up myriad examples in English, including
those mapped onto the temporal domain “backwards in time,” the judgmental domain
“things are looking up,” a mix of the two “a backwards town/a progressive idea,” the
emotional domain “he’s feeling pretty down/it was uplifting,” the political spectrum “left
wing/right wing” and even, through borrowing from French, the social world
“gauche/adroit.” (Interestingly, these all seem to take oe as the fix.)
In the end, is Kiranti coding of space really unique? Li and Gleitman have
demonstrated that spatial terminology, and choice of reference frames, (i.e. of where to
set axles and fixes) can be manipulated by changing the environment of speakers.
Speakers of Kiranti live in an environment where whether a walk is up or down could
41
exponentially increase travel times, and where not too long of a journey could take a
walker up into the Himalayan snows or down to the tropical heat of the Nepali Terai.
However, other languages show this kind of emphasis of the vertical dimension, and not
only other mountain languages like Tzeltal (Levinson 1999). There is also elaborate
marking of the vertical dimension in Fering, a dialect of Frisian language spoken mainly
on small, fairly flat islands (Ebert 1999).
Despite this, it seems that an environment this extreme must inform the language of
its inhabitants. However, at least one model for making spatial terminology, axles and
fixes, shows nearly the same structures for Kiranti vertical space as it does for simple
English spatial terminology – the difference lies in the labels of the coordinate frame
arms and in exactly what gets chosen as an axle or fix – both fairly fluid and malleable
qualities. It may be, as Li and Gleitman suggest, that the difference is not really a
conceptual one but rather simply a matter of necessity: we make and use terminology that
is useful in our environment.
In any case, the intricate ways in which Kiranti languages code vertical space at least
show us that there is another domain that has been ventured into – another thing that
language can do.
42
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