What do the Smew, Green Mango, Pewee, Fieldfare, Brambling, Brown Trembler, Firewood Gatherer, Buffalo Weaver and Green-tailed Trainbearer have in common? They are all names of birds, and there are many more — various Tyrants (Pygmy-tyrant, Cattle Tyrant, Tit-tyrant and plain old Tyrant), the Titmouse, Kinglet, Morepork, Wandering Tattler, Bananaquit (besides Orangequit and Grassquit), Monotonous Lark, Zigzag Heron, Familiar Chat and Sombre Chat.
There is probably a reason for the bizarre common names of birds. For example, the Bufflehead (a blend of ‘buffalo' and ‘head') is a duck with a large head. Bobolink (a group is called a “chain”), Killdeer, Chuck-will's Widow and Whip-poor-will are named for the sound of their calls. The Cloud-scraping Cisticola flies so high that it seems to skim the sky, while the Mealy Parrot gets its name from the fine dusting of white colour, resembling flour, on its back. The rail-like Limpkin is named for its limping walk. Steamer Ducks of South America are flightless, and when they need to get away fast, they flap their wings while paddling their feet like a paddle steamer. And Screamers? Well, they scream. As a teenager, I remember tittering about the Tits. I recently discovered that it's an old Germanic word for ‘small' and these are tiny birds.
I also ran into a whole lot of bird names whose origins are murky — Bearded Mountaineer (a hummingbird), Jacky Winter (a flycatcher), Leaf-love (an African bulbul), Powerful Woodpecker (more powerful than other woodpeckers?) and Festive Parrot (it doesn't seem any more colourful than the others).
Many years ago, I was trying to teach Rom's brother, Neel, the names of various water birds at a large lotus-choked pond in Sri Lanka: Coot, Purple Moorhen, Whistling Teal, Pheasant-tailed Jacana and so on. After half a day, he knew most of them. That evening, when Rom came to pick us up, I was so proud of Neel's newfound knowledge that I pointed to a White-breasted Water Hen and preened. “What's that one called?” He deadpanned: “Double-breasted Seersucker” (a formal Western light summer suit for men)! In hindsight, I had to laugh at the ridiculous names of both birds and... clothing. Incidentally, ‘seersucker' originated from the Persian word ‘shir-o-shakar' (milk and sugar), which apparently described the material's texture — alternate stripes of smoothness and crinkliness.
Recently, Gopi Sundar, a biologist, acquainted me with the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, which left me gasping with laughter. He explained that it drilled little holes in tree trunks and licked the sap, and therefore its name was quite descriptive. Just as I was about to jettison my favourite rebuke, ‘cross-eyed bow-legged buzzard' in favour of ‘Yellow-bellied Sapsucker', Gopi innocently followed it up with another, the Red-cockaded Woodpecker. This was even better. As I tried it out for vehemence and stress, Rom cautioned me to never use it in the U.S.
Woodpecker is a slur against poor white rural people in the Deep South. The African Americans saw themselves as sweet-singing blackbirds and whites as noisy, irritating and sometimes sporting red-heads like the woodpeckers. Over time, the word was inverted to ‘peckerwood,' perhaps to mask its meaning. It has also been suggested that in some parts of Appalachia, ‘peckerwood' is the regular name for the bird. In recent years, it has been appropriated by white supremacists in California, whose emblem bears a striking resemblance to the cartoon character Woody Woodpecker.
Although it was too bad about the woodpecker, there is no dearth of bird names that can double as cusswords. ‘Motmot' sounds appropriate for smiting one's head. It's easy to exclaim ‘Chaco Chachalaca!' in surprise, and ‘Matata' as a dire warning. Otherwise, ‘hakuna matata!' (meaning “no worries” in Swahili. Look for the Hakuna Matata song from Disney's “The Lion King” on YouTube).
(The author can be reached at janaki@gmail.com)
