#ch'ti

I have no idea why, but today I have noticed more local words in my conversations with people - so here is a list of the words you would most likely hear in the Nord and not elsewhere, and/or that originated here. Many of them, however, are used in other regions or at least known to most people.

1. Dracher. Ex : Il va dracher toute la journée ! This means that it will rain heavily. Fun fact, in Scots, Dreich means wet, dull, gloomy, dreary, or any combination of these. Though it is likely there are no common roots (dracher certainly comes from draschen in Flamish), I love that the feeling you get from both words is somewhat similar. Miserable and wet weather.

2. Babache. Ex : Mais t'es babache ou quoi ? It means stupid, slow. It is not very insulting. It is more often used as an adjective.

3. Wassingue. Ex : C'est trempé, passe-moi la wassingue. A mop.

4. Braire. Ex : Arrête de braire ! To cry (loudly), as the primary meaning of the word is the sound made by donkeys.

5. Targniole. Ex : Arrête de braire ou tu vas te prendre une targniole ! A slap, to get brutally slapped in the face.

6. Je te dis quoi. Ex : Attend qu'il nous appelle puis on te dit quoi ! It can be literally translated as 'I tell you what', but here the what isn't asking for more information/expressing interrogation, it means 'what will happen/how things will go'. This is often the reason for quiprocos between nordistes and parisians.

7. Caboche. Ex : Mais t'as rien dans la caboche ? (Don't you have anything in the head?) Caboche alone means head (J'ai mal à la caboche). Having nothing in the caboche means you are not very bright.

8. Petit pain. Ex : Prends-moi deux petits pains à la boulangerie. It means pain au chocolat. An alternative that I have sometimes heard is petit pain au chocolat.

9. Carabistouilles. Ex : Elle ne raconte que des carabistouilles. It basically means that something is nonsense/harmless lies (bêtises, balivernes). My grandmother always says tarabistouilles and even though she may have invented it, I think it's very nice. In Ch'ti: carabistoulles.

10. Crayon de bois. Ex : Il me faut un crayon de bois pour le cours d'arts-plastiques. A pencil.

Now onto the words/expressions I have always used but didn't know they were specifically from the North:

11. Vingt(e). The number 20 but we pronounce the t. I have actually always felt not pronouncing the t made you sound less serious.

12. Être à pied de chaussettes. Ex : Dans cette maison, on est tous à pied de chaussettes. To wear only socks.

13. A toute Berzingue. Ex : Ce fou furieux roulait à toute berzingue. At full speed.

14. Décarocher. Ex : Le pauvre homme, il décaroche complètement. To lose one's mind. There is this idea of slowly losing grip on things, falling. It is often used in a humorous/emphatic way but the primary meaning remains too.

15. Nonoche. Ex : T'es complètement nonoche ou quoi ? Simpleton.

16. Si ça tombe. Ex : Si ça tombe il s'est perdu et ne nous trouvera pas. Maybe/perhaps/if things are like they could be/if anything. It really is hard to translate the connotation here. It comes from the expression "Si ça se trouve", which refers to a possibility or eventuality that is less likely to happen than 'maybe', and I would argue that the former is a bit more fatalist/serious (tomber is more brutal).

17. Tout partout. Ex : Il a fait tomber la farine, y'en a tout partout ! Everywhere; you are insisting on the fact it really is all everywhere.

18. A c't'heure. Ex : Y'a plus rien d'ouvert à c't'heure. At this time of the day, literally at this hour. More often used by older generations (40+) but not exclusively.

27 October 1786, Max to Fernand Dubois de Fosseux (leading light in Rosati and Académie d’Arras):

J’ai beau être appelé à l’honneur de présider une compagnie savante, au premier beau jour j’oublie ma dignité et je cours gambader avec les fermières de votre voisinage. Mais puisque la renommée qui publie le mal plus promptement que le bien vous a instruit dès le jour même de ce fatal secret, renfermez-le du moins au-dedans de vous-même […]. Permettez que mon règne passager s’écoule sans que j’aie été forcé de rougir aux yeux de mes confrères, qu’en ce jour solennel où je dois paraître en public à la tête de cette compagnie, il me soit permis de soutenir ce rôle avec dignité et qu’au milieu de la gravité des fonctions qu’on me verra remplir personne ne puisse dire: il a été danser à la ducasse de Late.

I am so proud and happy, we did it, this is an amazing first step! Both our regional languages, Picard (Ch'ti) and Flamand, will be taught in public schools of the academies of Lille and Amiens (so the whole region) in 2022! I can't believe we finally will be learning them within the school context here at home. This means much more educational material will be available especially for Picard: the classes will be available for children age 3 to 18, with bilingual teaching being an option. It will become a standard language exam at the baccalaureate. This is great news for Picard which wasn't previously recognised by the Éducation Nationale like other languages such as Breton, Occitan or Alsacien. I just can't wait to see our children proudly speaking Ch'ti within the school system!

There are so many well-known songs from the North of France, so I’ll stick to the ones that are an important part of my childhood, either because I learnt them at school, heard them during ducasses or every Sunday during family dinner. Some are in standard French, others in Ch’ti (the picard-derived dialect spoken in the Nord and Nord-Pas-de-Calais).

Les Corons - Pierre Bachelet

“Au Nord, c’était les corons                                                                                  La Terre, c’était le charbon                                                                                   Le Ciel c’était l’horizon,                                                                                      Les Hommes des mineurs de fond”

La Marseillaise is for the people of France (and beyond); Les Corons is for the people of the North, it is the région’s anthem. Certainly the most famous song about the région too - just hearing the beginning makes me cry, this song is home. The corons are the working-class housing found mainly in the Nord-Pas-de-Calais and Belgium that was built for miners: all the houses are made of ‘red’ brick, and all look alike. This song is both a celebration of the région despite its lack of natural beauties (”Et j’avais des terrils à défaut de montagnes/And I had terrils instead of montains, the terrils are artificial hills made of coals you find everywhere here) and also denounces the miners' terrible working conditions, who died of illness (silicose) or in accidents, and always battled for their rights (hence the reference to Jean Jaurès). 

(Another favourite version by the Stentors: it really sounds like an anthem then, and it was shot in front of our most famous mine and its terrils).

Les gens du Nord - Enrico Macias

“Les gens du Nord

Ont dans leurs yeux le bleu qui manque à leur décor                                       

Les gens du Nord                                                                                                Ont dans le coeur le soleil qu’ils n’ont pas dehors”

Very, very well known by all here and across the country - a beautiful song about the kindness and bravery of the people of the North; in other words, quite the romantic portrayal of the place. Here again, the coal becomes mountains. 

Galibot

“Galibot, tu seras Galibot                                                                               Galibot, tu seras - Galibot !”

This song is terribly sad, because as a child I loved it, it sounds so joyful and hopeful; but in fact the joy here belongs to two parents and their child, who are so very happy and proud he is finally old enough to become a galibot, which was the name given to 13-year-old boys working in the mines.

Mademoiselle From Armentière - Line Renaud

“Elle ne savait même pas parler qu’elle savait déjà chanter                         

Mad’moiselle from Armentière !”

Oh, we love this one a lot. It is the story of a demoiselle from the city of Armentière (who knew how to sing before she could speak according to the song), who married an English general, hence the Mademoiselle from Armentière. It is based on a true ‘story’: her name was Marie Lecocq, and former British soldiers erected a statue in her honour in the Armentière hospital. The song became an hymn sung by the Commonwealth soldiers during the Great War, and was originally written by a British officer.

Le P’tit Quinquin - Alexandre Desrousseaux (poem), Raoul (singer)

“Ainsi, l'aut' jour eun' pauv' dintellière,

In amiclotant sin p'tit garchon

Qui d'puis tros quarts d'heure, n'faijot qu'braire,

Tâchot d'linformir par eun' canchon.

Ell' li dijot : Min Narcisse,

D'main, t'aras du pain n'épice

Du chuc à gogo

Si t'es sache et qu'te fais dodo ! “

This one is in Ch’ti, and is a lullaby. The lyrics are about a mother begging her child to go to sleep, and promising him all sorts of treats as a reward. 

Un Clair de Lune à Maubeuge - Bourvil

“Tout ça n'vaut pas

Le doux soleil de Roubaix (coin-coing ! vous êtes ridicule!)                             

Tout ça n'vaut pas                                                          Une croisière sur la Meuse

Tout ça n'vaut pas faire du sport au Kremlin biceps”

If you want to learn about the geography of the North, this is your song: it lists all its famous towns (even the sweet sun of Tourcoing...).

Les Tomates - Renaud

“I mingeot des tomates

Des tomates des tomates

Cheul pauf' garchon i savot bin

Qui-étot marqué par el destin

Mais i s'disot pour es' faire eun' rason

Ch'arot pu ête l'sason des melons”

In Ch’ti - it is the sad story of a boy named Edmond whose destiny was to be unhappy and unable to fulfill his dreams, as the song states he cannot escape his fate (tomatoes): he works as a gardener and only tomatoes grow in his garden; he hopes he will get watermelons, and never does; he wants a wife, never has one; goes away and hopes to become a singer, people throw tomatoes at him; the song ends by stating he didn’t resist the harshness of life, and is buried in his native town. Tomatoes grow on his grave. We learnt this stanza after stanza every week at school: when after all of this he didn’t get a happy end, I was apparently the only one positively devastated. 

Petit Jean revenant de Lille 

“Petit Jean revenant de Lille,

Co, co, co, se dira la, la !

Petit Jean revenant de Lille,

Tout chargé de rémolas,

Tout chargé de rémolas.”