tako

• (n.) vein

Mata ei iu tako e’i epelu o ia tou.
“I can see the veins under your skin.”

Notes: This is only for the types of veins that are in your body, not something like a vein of ore in a rock. The main body of the iku is ko, and there’s a ta inside of it (kind of like the vein is inside the body).

I have always been very, very uncomfortable imagining, talking about, or thinking about veins. Internal organs? No problem. Veins? Very troubling. Troubling in the same way as discussing a vasectomy is troubling. (Guys will know what I’m talking about.) Just an icky, icky feeling pulses its way through the entire fiber of my being. Makes me shudder.

So. Let us drop this topic and never speak of it again.

ui

• (v.) to join, to conjoin
• (n.) joining, conjoining, coming together
• (n.) joint (body part)
• (phon.) glyph for the sequence ui

He ui eya i peaka!
“Let’s conjoin them!”

Notes: I’ve classified today’s word as an ikuiku, but I’m not sure about the classification. It derives from a figure that looks pretty much like this one, but it started out abstract. It’s, essentially, an abstract representation of joining (perhaps originally a drawing of a knot, though it no longer means “knot”). So the thing looks like what it’s supposed to look like, but it’s not very…picture-y. Aside from throwing up my hands and calling it an ikunima’u, though, all I can do is classify it an ikuiku.

ilu

• (n.) liver

Toku ilu o ia oku.
“Your liver’s not strong.”

Notes: No idea what that’s supposed to mean. What’s the liver even do, anyway? I know it’s important, but who ever sees it besides doctors? Such an ugly organ…

According to the Wikipedia, the liver apparently helps in “detoxification”. I guess since I don’t drink alcohol that means I’m set for life! Take that, liver!

The iku for ilu is built off the iku for lu. Where ordinarily there’s a space, the midline extends up to the top to form an i. I’ve kind of associated this iku with the liver in my mind. Coincidentally (or perhaps not?!), it looks like another ugly thing I don’t like to think about. What will that thing be? You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out!

e’i

• (n.) foot
• (n.) bottom
• (adv.) under, underneath
• (prep.) below, under
• (v.) to go under

Li’u po e’i!
“Death from below!”

Notes: HAPPY CATURDAY!!!

Erin just uploaded a bunch of pictures to my computer from her phone, and I found this one quite amusing:

So sinister! My sneaky little feline.

Today’s iku is built off the iku for hi. The right and left edges are joined to the low point to make a “V” shape indicating the e. Kind of looks like a bat… Too bad I already have an iku for “bat” (see fine).

umu

• (n.) lip
• (n.) rim, edge

A kavi umu o ia!
“Your lip is big!”

Notes: Presumably from a fight. I think umu is an iku’ume. I mean, that seems right. Looks pretty good, for what it is. Not much else to say, other than iTunes won’t play right now, so I’m restarting my computer. So take that.

epelupelu

• (n.) hide (of an animal)

Fule to epelupelu ti’i.
“I need four hides.”

Notes: I’m going to be on autopilot during the Thanksgiving holiday, so forgive me for just putting up words without much explanation. Today’s word derives from…oh criminy. I could’ve sworn I’d already done epelu! And so the trend I started way back when continues…

mata

• (n.) eye
• (v.) to see, to look at

Ka mata eine ie nawa.
“The woman saw the fish.”

Notes: This may not be the first Kamakawi sentence, but it may have been the second. If you go back through my example sentences, mata is the most common verb, without a doubt. It means “eye” and is also used as the verb “to see”.

This word is a bit of an inside joke. When I was taking historical linguistics at Berkeley, the professor (Andrew Garrett), in discussing the comparative method, noted how one needs to compare a whole set of vocabulary items to guard against the influence of chance resemblances. For example, the word for “eye” in Ancient Greek is, I guess, mata, which is identical to the word for “eye” in (I think?) Indonesian. They’re both basic terms, and they’re nearly identical, but it would be wrong to assume, based on that chance resemblance, that the two languages are related.

So, for fun, I made the Kamakawi word for “eye” mata as well.

iloa

• (n.) shoulder

Te kanekoi ie iloa o ei!
“There’s a cat on my shoulder!”

Notes: It’s not Caturday yet, but I’ve got a cat picture for you! A friend of mine just rescued a very young kitten, and I got to visit him yesterday. I present to you Chapps:

Isn’t he adorable?! I want to grab him and put him in a little hot dog bun! It’d be big enough to serve as his bed!

A truly adorable little kitten. He was malnourished and suffering from fleas, but my friend cleaned him up and gave him food, and he’s on the mend. I expect we’ll see more of him here at the Kamakawi Word of the Day as time goes by.

The iku for iloa comprises the top and left sides of ko, you may notice. That’s why this iku gets classified as an iku’ume, as opposed to an ikuiku (though its suitability is, of course, based on the fact that it kind of looks like a shoulder and arm dangling).

futa

• (n.) knee, elbow
• (n.) a hard knot on a tree or log

Au pama futa o ia ima!
“Your elbows are hard!”

Notes: In Kamakawi, there’s one word for either your elbow or your knee (or an elbow or knee). The two things are basically the same: It’s a hard piece of bone that sticks out at a limb joint. And if you get kneed or elbowed in the face, it doesn’t really matter which you got hit by: it hurts!

The iku is the reversed version of ti, and was chosen because the darn thing really looks like a knee or elbow (in fact, the original ti is a stylized version of an arm).

uya

• (n.) wrist

Oku itu uyo o ei.
“My wrist doesn’t hurt.”

Notes: This is true. Ever since I got the new keyboard and mouse, my wrist problems have vanished. And now that I have my chair, my shoulder problems have vanished, too. It’s awesome!

This was one of the last fome I did. I got to a point (some five or six hundred iku in) that I decided, “Enough! No more glyphs!” But this one was just too easy and made too much sense not to add. And since its middle consonant is a glide, it meant I didn’t have to add it to the bisyllabic glyph chart, so adding it was no problem.

Now, though, I’m pretty sure I’m done. I may get tempted and add one or two later (especially when I finally create my font that doesn’t foolishly make use of bold and italics to get all the glyphs in one font), but for now, the five hundred or so fome I have are good enough for me.