I Say Tomato, You Say… Apple of Paradise?

Etymology of “tomato” in Europe and the Mediterranean

It’s been an extremely hot summer, which has led to a bumper crop of tomatoes. The harvest is so big that I’ve been bringing them to work to give to colleagues. I work in a very international office, and recently the discussion turned to how to say “tomato” in everyone’s native language. The results were interesting, and inspired this map (mouse over each country for more details):

https://pinea.app.carto.com/map/07127302-5d6f-479d-b3e6-f222c1abdeb6

The tomato plant is native to South America, but was first domesticated by the Aztecs in present-day Mexico. Their word for the fruit was tomatl*, which means something like “the swelling fruit”. The Spanish brought it to the New World in the 16th century, calling it a tomate.

Many languages still use a derivative of the Spanish word tomate, but another name arose in Italy. The Italian word for tomato is pomodoro, which came from pomo d’oro, or golden apple. Somehow** that name spread to Poland, where they say pomidor, and from there to Russian, Ukrainian, and several other languages.

A different name arose in some German dialects: Paradiesapfel, or “apple of paradise”, which for anyone who has eaten a ripe one right from the vine is an apt description. Although modern Germans way tomate, Austrians call it a paradieser, and variants of this were adapted into Czech, Slovak, Hungarian, Serbian and others.

In Arabic, it seems there are two common ways to say “tomato” (At least that’s what my friends tell me. I’d be happy for feedback from any Arabic linguists out there.) There’s tamatim (طماطم),  which is used in North Africa. That, of course, comes from tomate. But in the Near East (Syria, Jordan, Lebanon), the common term is banadora (بندورة), from the pomo d’oro family. 

It gets really interesting in Hebrew, which has a word for tomato unlike any other language. The word is agvania (עגבניה). It was coined only in 1886 and has as its root the Hebrew word for “to love, desire”. This name was chosen because of the archaic English term “love apple”, an homage to the apparent aphrodisiac properties of the tomato. More on the story of the Hebrew word here.

So there you have it. Pretty interesting for a fruit (vegetable?) only introduced to much of the world a few hundred years ago. Sources for map include Google Translate and Cultivated Vegetables of the World: A Multilingual Onomasticonan actual book that actually exists. I made the map in CartoDB using the Watercolor base map from Stamen Design. If you want to see more etymology maps, there’s a subreddit dedicated to the topic.

And if all that hasn’t made you hungry from some apples of paradise, this will:

tomatos

UPDATE: A few readers have correctly pointed out that what I have is a map of nation states, not a map of languages. For the sake of simplicity I am using national borders as a proxy for language regions. I should have specified that I selected the language for each country based on the official language, or if there is more than one, the most commonly spoken language. One negative consequence of that approach is that several states languages did not make it onto the map (e.g. Basque (tomate or tomatea) and Kurdish (temate)).

* More precisely, “tomatl” comes from the Nahuatl words “tomohuac” (swelling, roundness, fatness) and “atl” (water). 

** I have subsequently been informed that “pomodoro” was introduced to Poland by the Italian noblewoman Bona Sforza, who became Queen of Poland by marriage in 1518. 

Thanks to the members of reddit.com/r/etymologymaps for the helpful feedback and corrections

Satellite Image Time Lapse of Artisanal Mining in Peru

My last post was about gold and mercury prices, and how we might measure their relationship. We would expect a relationship between prices of these metals because mercury is used in artisanal and small scale gold mining (ASGM). We may or may not see a signal in mercury prices related to ASGM, but we most definitely see the effects of ASGM on the landscape on a massive scale. Using the Landsat Annual Timelapse tool in Google Earth Engine, I created this animation showing the explosive growth of ASGM and associated deforestation near Huaypetue in the Madre de Dios region of Peru. Click on the image below to view the animation.

asgm landsat anim

You can see that beginning in the late 1990s, large areas around rivers turn from green (rain forest), to brown (cleared areas for mining). The trend seems to accelerate in the last 10-15 years. You can explore the region as it appears today in Google Maps:

And because it’s fun to play with Google maps, here is a striking oblique image of the region.

Zooming in a bit closer, seen from a plane flown by the Carnegie Airborne Observatory, the impacts of mining come into even sharper view:

The scenes on the ground look every bit as desolate as you would expect from the satellite and airborne imagery:

Embed from Getty Images

Embed from Getty Images

Embed from Getty Images

If you are looking for more information on artisanal mining in Madre de Dios, this article in Nature is a good place to start. The Guardian has also been covering this region. This piece focuses on mercury use in mining and its toxic impacts.

Snow Up Close

It’s snowing here in the Washington DC area. Well, it’s actually spitting down freezing rain after a few flakes this morning, but that’s about you can expect in this area. But it was also the first time my young son had ever seen snow, and he thought it was pretty darn cool. And snow is pretty darn cool! If you’re a jaded adult perhaps it helps to take a closer look. Check out this image of a snowflake taken by an amateur photographer in Moscow named Alexey Klyatov. It’s stunning (and of course totally unique), and it was taken with a clever jerry-rigged system on his balcony. This Atlantic Magazine article explains how he did it. So enjoy the snow!

photo by Alexey Klyatov