Microsoft’s Stephen Elop shows off his Portuguese waxed nose

clown-362155_640An eagle-eyed fellow journalist pointed this funny language tidbit out to me… earlier this week Lucy Kellaway of the Financial Times, panned Microsoft executive vice-president Stephen Elop for his verbose 1000-plus word memo, cluttered with tedious corporate-speak announcing (eventually) 12,500 job cuts. The link to that article is here, but because of the paywall you might not be able to read it; however, if you Google the headline ‘Hello there’: eight lessons from Microsoft’s awful job loss memo, you should be able to call it up on screen.

One of the comments on that article came from a person with the nom de plume perguntador*

  • There is a Portuguese word for writing a lot of blah-blah-blah before getting to the heart of the matter: it is called a “nariz-de-cera” (a wax nose, literally — it could have been imported from French, the source of a lot of literary expressions in European languages) … This must be one of the longest and most excruciating “narizes-de-cera” ever put before a job loss notice.

This made me want to go and pick the nose section of my Portuguese dictionaries for other juicy nasal expressions. The dictionary entry was a bit disappointing: nariz-de-cera (pl narizes-de-cera) 1. common-place. 2 emphatic introduction. I prefer perguntador’s “writing a lot of blah-blah-blah” definition. The other listed nariz expressions are pretty much what you would expect (e.g, seguir o nariz, to follow one’s nose), but the Portuguese equivalent of “to poke one’s nose into other people’s business” is meter o nariz onde não é chamado (literally, to put the nose where it is not called).

red-30521_1280As for cera, it is a feminine word meaning wax or beeswax, but it also has a figurative meaning of a weak, wavering or unprincipled person, or work badly or slowly done. Fazer cera means to work slowly on purpose.

A nostril in Portuguese is uma narina.

I then went to my French dictionaries to see if perguntador’s hunch about it being an imported expression was correct. The word for nose is nez, and French has a lot more nose idioms than Portuguese, by the looks of it, but I couldn’t find one to do with wax, which is cire (except the wax for skis, which is fart) 😀 And a nostril is une narine.

nose-307159_640In my other Romance languages, the words for nose, nostril and wax, respectively, are.

  • Italian: naso, narice, cera
  • Romanian: nas, nară, ceară
  • Spanish: nariz, fosa nasal, cera

My Spanish dictionaries don’t have any blah-blah-blah wax noses in them, so I guess the credit must go to the Portuguese imagination.

* In Portuguese, perguntar means to ask, interrogate, query, inquire about; uma pergunta is a question or an inquiry; and um perguntador is a questioner or interrogator, as is um or uma perguntante.



The H words can give you hell or the hiccups

house-294108_640Here’s the next instalment in our Quirky Vocabulary series: we’re up to the letter H. In English, the words beginning with H can be heavy going: there’s harassment, hate, hellfire, halitosis, houses of horror, hallucination, henchmen, handicaps, hysterics, hassles, herpes, hardship, hard labour, the heebie jeebies and haemorrhoids. I’ve chosen a house of horror to illustrate this, I thought you would prefer it to herpes or a haemorrhoid.

On the bright side, though, there’s happiness and harmony, high jinks and humourhearty meals and haberdashery (a lovely word), high hopes, homes, hurrahs, honesty, the hit parade, heroes and heroines, hello, howdy, halos, heaven, hazelnuts, hanky panky and hokey pokey ice-cream 😀

So, what interesting H words have we found in the five Romance languages?

PORTUGUESE: a lot of the H words in Portuguese seem to be scientific or mathematical – they must be derived from the Greek, I guess. However, I like this one: haraganear, which in vintage Brazilian Portuguese means to run wild or rove at large (referring to cattle, etc). However, in modern figurative use it means to loaf or to idle. Bernardo loves doing that! The adjective haragano I means idle or lazy. Call me Mr Harango.

FRENCH: hoqueter means to hiccup. Hoqueter de frayeur means to gulp with fright, while avoir de hoquet means to have the hiccups.

All images are from Pixabay. These are huevos duros or hard-boiled eggs

These are huevos duros or hard-boiled eggs.    (Images from Pixabay)

SPANISH: There are some interesting expressions that revolve around huevo,  meaning egg. And I don’t mean just those like huevos revueltos (scrambled eggs). I am thinking more with a testicular bent: tener huevos  = to have balls. And esta hasta los huevos de… means to be pissed off withY un huevo! means like hell! And costar un huevo is the Spanish equivalent of to cost an arm and a leg.

map-304779_640ROMANIAN: o habar is an idea (as is o idee). But there is a very useful expression habar nu-am which means I don’t know, or I haven’t a clue. Being mostly a clueless person, I’d use this phrase a lot. Another word that you might find useful in Romania if you are a tourist is o hartă, which is a map; it’s not to be confused with hârtie, meaning paper, but since many maps are made of paper perhaps you should lump the two together.

ITALIAN: There is no “h” sound in Italian and consequently the Italian dictionaries’ H pages are short, offering only borrowed words such as haute cuisine or heavy metal. You can find a fuller explanation here of the rare instances where and why H is used in the language.

My listings for A-G words are under the Quirky vocabulary tab near the top of the page.

A Brazilian/Romanian folk music sampler with a curious language fact thrown in

fire-307592_640PREAMBLE: It’s a Sunday evening, and a little chilly; it would be nice to be sitting round a camp fire with friends, getting sentimental and nostalgic with a glass of wine or something similar that warms the insides, like a flaming sambuca or two! As we watch the flames rise and fall maybe someone would bring out a guitar and start strumming.

acoustic-guitar-145300_1280ACT ONE: Enter a Brazilian, Alceu Valença and friends to entertain us. This song has got a north-east Brazil feel to it (the music there is quite different in many respects to the genres in other parts of the country). It’s a tribute to the beauties on the beach of Boa Viagem (good voyage) in Recife, which was one of the World Cup host cities. It’s a very interesting city with a lot of historical interest, including the World Heritiage listed village of Olinda, which hosts one of Brazil’s best carnivals. Recife for a while was once held by the Dutch, who drained its swamps and called it New Amsterdam, although nowadays it is called the Venice of Brazil. Anyway, in this clip you will hear lovely unusual sounds and see some of the beauty and beauties of Recife. And as a language bonus, the title of the song is in French! The acoustic guitars are lush.

ACT TWO, SCENE 1: What put me in this mellow mood in the first place was a song that popped up on my WordPress reader, posted by a blog I follow Hai-Hui prin Sufletul Folkului. It’s sung by a Romanian troubador, Dan Vana, and the song is titled Copiii Nu Mor Niciodată or (The) Children Never Die.

ACT TWO, SCENE TWO: Here’s Dan in action, live on stage at some folk festival somewhere. It takes guts to entertain a crowd with just an acoustic guitar in your hand. And talent to be able to pull it off.


OK, here it is: it’s something I remembered my teacher telling me on my language course in Romania last year. Let’s hope she was right and my memory is true.

world-76211_640In Romanian, the definite article is a suffix (add-on at the end of a word). Thus

  • a child = un copil
  • the child = copilul
  • children = copii
  • the children = copiii

Copiii (“the children”) is the only word in Romanian with three ‘i‘s at the end of it. 😀

As its usage here in the song title shows, Romanian sometimes uses a definite article where other languages would use the indefinite article.


French rock rocks! Six of the best from Indochine

Many music critics – chiefly English-speaking ones – tend to be contemptuous of French “rock” music, arguing that rock is not something the French do well. To which I say, listen to something by Téléphone. Unfortunately Téléphone split up a long while ago, and in their absence my favourite French band nowadays is IndochineHere is a selection of some of their best known songs. I was going to restrict myself to three, but the more I listened to their music, the more I had to include, it was that good (there are seven clips, but two are of the same song, one live and one studio, so I am counting it as six of the best.) It’s not for nothing that this band has had four No.1 and three No.2 albums in France and have charted consistently in Belgium and Switzerland and other Francophone countries. Much of their music is more pop-rock or new wave (they formed in the early 1980s) than rock, but as you will see from the clips below, they can certainly rock the stadium (the Stade de France, in Paris, recorded in 2010). What I also like about their material is that it makes the French language seem very user-friendly … see how vocal the crowd is and how easy the songs are to sing along to. If you like this sort of music and want to brush up on your French, this is the band for you.

We’ll start off with two  songs, Le Lac (The Lake) and Little Dolls, which were on the album La République des Meteors, which made No.2 in France in 2009.

Next up is my pick of their grittier rock songs, Marylin … looks like it is more Marylin Manson than Monroe. This is the sort of music I like to play loud when I am feeling energetic, when vacuuming, for example (which is about the most energetic activity I can do nowadays).

Here’s the stadium version. What a buzz the singers must get in front of crowds like this!

Although they have charted many times, Indochine’s only No. 1 single in France to date is J’ai demandé à la lune (I asked the moon), one of six singles taken from their most successful album, Paradize, which was released in 2002.

Moving on a decade, the next song is from 2012, Memoria, the first single of from what would turn out to be another No. 1 album, Black City Parade.

The follow-up single, College Boy, is all about homophobia, bullying and violence, and how onlookers who turn a blind eye allow cruelty to fester. Be warned, it’s quite confronting.

Incidentally, lead singer Nicola Sirkis was one of the artists involved in La Bande à Renaud, the album that recently spent four weeks at the top of the French album charts, as was Jean-Louis Aubert of Téléphone. Indochine’s official website is here. Indochine are currently doing gigs and are said to be working on new album.

A sprinkling of Agua Bella, or Peruvian Beautiful Water

paper-37332_1280Hi. A quick story. Had a shitty day. Diahorrea at 4am and agonising stomach cramps at 6am. Half a roll of toilet paper vanished, just like that! Wanted to stay in bed but had to put in an 11-hour shift again because of magazine deadlines. Made a couple of mid-morning emergency dashes to the men’s room at work. The company loo paper is cheap and rough! Ate dry biscuits and diahorrea tablets. Desperately needed a mid-afternoon siesta but had to make do with the office instant coffee instead. Soldiered on late into the night. Hailed a taxi near the office. I got into the cab. The driver looked Indian or Polynesian (most of the taxi drivers in Sydney are foreigners), he was quite dark skinned.

silhouette-44073_1280We set off, he was playing a CD featuring female singers. It took me a while to tune into it, to bring it from background muzak to front of mind. What language is this? I wondered. It’s not very Indian. It’s not very Bollywood. Some of the words I recognised. Was it some Indo-Spanish dialect? A Portuguese-speaking troupe from Goa? It’s kind of Lambada-ish (remember the lambada?). Quite soothing, in a way, the sort of music you need in a taxi home after a long diahorrea day. I thought I should investigate. My Shazam app was summoned. Sorry, we couldn’t find a match, it said. Singing or humming won’t be identified! Farting will be frowned upon! Oh fuck off, I thought.

stripper-150166_1280I gave up on Shazam and turned to the driver. “What is this CD?”. It turns out it was Agua Bella from Peru and, yup, he was Peruvian. And even for my tired brain there was no possibility of forgetting the group was Agua Bella because they somehow manage to yell the words “Agua Bella” in at the beginning and endings of all their songs, it seems. Talk about self-promotion! Since I haven’t featured any Peruvian music on this blog at all, I thought I would put you through the Agua Bella experience too. Judging by the visual and sound quality of these clips, they must have been around when video was just invented. (The sound was much better in the car.) Agua Bella seem to be a group of three, four, five, six or sometimes seven leggy women who prance around in mini-skirts or corsets or swimwear and wiggle their bums a lot. Now there’s a novel idea!


Dreams and nightmares on and off the football field

This school of piranhas could well be a pesadelo. Picture:  Pixabay

This school of piranhas could well be “um pesadelo”.  Picture: Pixabay

One Portuguese word that visiting journalists learnt in Brazil was pesadelo, although Brazilians would much rather they hadn’t. When Germany thumped the World Cup hosts 7-1 in the semifinal, it was “um pesadelo“, and then when Brazil’s great footballing rivals Argentina had the cheek to qualify for the final on Brazil’s prized home turf, it was, as Brazilian newspapers claimed, a case of “o pesadelo continua” – the nightmare continues. But Germany won the final so the latter pesadelo was averted.

I must confess I wasn’t greatly familiar with this word, I guess because I rarely have bad dreams. Bernardo’s biggest nightmare is having to get out of bed in the morning. So, let’s have a look at the bedtime possibilities in my five Romance languages.

 Better dreams tabPoints of note

  1. Italian, Spanish and Portuguese are very closely related except for Italian’s “incubo
  2. The French and Romanian “nightmares” are very similar.
  3. The “mar” element, and “mare” in English, are derived from the Middle Dutch mare (“phantom, spirit, nightmare”), from Proto-Germanic marǭ (“nightmare, incubus”), from Proto-Indo-European mor– (“malicious female spirit”), according to Wiktionary.
  4. Romanian appears to be doing the “vision” thing when it comes to dreams.

justice-297629_640Going back to the Portuguese word pesadelo…

  • It’s related to the word pesar, which as a masculine noun means sorrow, regret or grief; and as a verb means to weigh, scrutinise, consider, grieve or cause sorrow.
  • The adjectives pesado/pesada (masc/fem) mean heavy, weighty, hard, onerous, laborious, difficult and so on. In Brazilian slang they can also mean unlucky. Pesado as a noun in Brazilian slang means hard work.
  • Pesadamente is the adverb heavily, and pesadume (masc) is heaviness, weight, bitterness, sorrow, ill will, grudge.

Other common expressions

  • chuva pesada = heavy rain
  • indústria pesada = heavy industry
  • uma multa pesada = a heavy fine

It’s Bernardo’s bedtime, time to say good night and sweet dreams…

bed-307817_640P: boa noite e bons sonhos
S: buenas noches y dulces sueños
F: bonne nuit et de beaux rêves
I: buona notte e sogni d’oro
R: noapte buna si vise plăcute





The sultry chansons of Coeur de Pirate

Coeur de P Golden BayCoeur de Pirate’s cover of Mistral Gagnant on the tribute album La Bande à Renaud (now in its fourth week atop the French album charts) made me want to investigate her music a bit more. Coeur de Pirate (“Heart of a Pirate”) is the nom de plume of French-Canadian singer Béatrice Martin, who has had album and single chart success in France, Belgium, Switzerland, Austria and Germany as well as Canada. Some of her material is a little odd, but that could be said for many artists. Sometimes her songs remind me of a tinkling musical toybox with an outstretched ballerina going round and round on top of it. Perhaps its the way she tinkles the keyboards,or maybe they are childlike. See what you think…

First up is Place de la République, one of the most popular tracks from her album Blonde, released in 2011.

Also from that album is Golden Baby, which despite the title is mostly in French.

The next two, Comme des Infantes, and Ensemble are taken from her debut eponymous album, released in 2008.

Ensemble is a song I think my parents would like!

This collaboration with Julian Doré was a No.1 in France in 2009, but it has a very deliberate 1960s feel.

C de P's TraumaThis year Coeur de Pirate released an album of cover songs in English, as part of the series of soundtracks to the Canadian TV series Trauma, a medical drama set in a hospital in Montreal. The album includes Lucille (last made famous by Kenny Rogers) and Summer Wine, which was also covered recently by Lana del Rey.

Incidentally, Coeur de Pirate’s Mistral Gagnant is still in the top 30 singles in France, but Renaud’s original has dropped down 33 places to No.153.

Brazil 2014: The festa’s almost finished. Que pena!

World cup ballsBrazil’s participation in the 2014 FIFA World Cup has reached its amazing anti-climax – one goal scored and 10 conceded in its last two games. But once Brazilians get over the humiliation their team ultimately suffered on the football field, they should take some pride in having hosted what is widely regarded as the most exciting and colourful World Cup yet. So in that sense you have to say to the host country, “Parabéns!” – congratulations.

One reason why Brazil hosted the tournament was so that people all over the world could get to know more about the country. In Australia the World Cup has been shown on television by broadcaster SBS, and I was in the studio audience last night for the final episode (number 26) of The Full Brazilian, a prime-time comedy show that has been running ever since the tournament started. The atmosphere in the studio was great, there were four sexy female samba dancers decked out in feathers, three sexy males in capoeira uniforms thumping out infectious percussion, and the studio itself had great replicas of Cristo Redentor (the statue of Christ the Redeemer) and Pão de Açúcar (Sugar Loaf mountain), complete with cute little cable cars going up and down. The whole thing just made you want to go to carnival in Brazil immediately!

When you consider that his was just one of many offbeat shows that the event’s global broadcasters have been running over the past month, the tourism publicity for Brazil has been priceless, not just in the traditional media, but on social media too. The Guardian newspaper has given an excellent assessment of the event, from a socio-economic point of view in this editorial.

The event has also been a boost for the Portuguese language. Writers from English-language newspapers sprinkled their reports with catchphrases in Portuguese: for example, the jogo bonito, or beautiful game, for which Brazil was once renowned, which became the jogo colapso when Brazil was thumped 7-1 by Germany in the semifinals. By the end of that game every foreigner in Brazil could count to seven in Portuguese. And the non-Braziian fans who attended the tournament soon found out what a “festa” was. (On last night’s episode of The Full Brazilian, though, the host, comedian Jimeoin, took this to mean “fester“, which in English is not so pleasant. Still, by now you’d hope, journalists around the world won’t make embarrassing mistakes like this bunch of Australians did in saying that that language of Brazil was Spanish. No wait, Italian!

brazil-154542_640Many people are sad that the tournament is nearly over, but at least there is one more big festa to come – the celebrations of whichever nation that wins the final. And another consolation – we have the Olympics in Rio de Janeiro in 2016 to look forward to as well. Maybe we will all still be doing the full Brazilian for years to come.

Portuguese language notes

  • parabéns = congratulations
  • dar os parabéns = to congratulate
  • festa = festival, carnival
  • festar = to celebrate, dance, party
  • que pena! = what a pity!
  • (não) vale a pena = it’s (not) worth it
  • ter pena de = to feel sorry for
  • um colapso = a collapse, breakdown, break-up; (medical) shock or fit
  • sofrer um colapso mental = to suffer a mental breakdown
  • acabar (bem/mal) = to finish (well/badly)
  • acabou-se = it’s all over
  • terminar = to finish, to conclude
  • não se lastima o que bem termina = all’s well that ends well


Who’s afraid of Portuguese verbs? The first steps to fluency

mcall smith PIRPortuguese verbs have a fearsome reputation. The witty novelist Alexander McCall Smith wrote a short novel called Portuguese Irregular Verbs, a comedy about a well-meaning but mediocre German professor, Dr von Ingelfeld, who had spent his whole academic life studying Portuguese irregular verbs and felt that his efforts and expertise were not given due recognition. Surely he deserved a Nobel Prize at least! With a title like that, that novel was never destined to be a best-seller, but it did have interesting chapter titles, including “Duels, And How to Fight Them” and “Early Irish Pornography”. McCall Smith kept Dr von Ingelfeld going in two sequels, The Finer Points of Sausage Dogs and At The Villa of Reduced Circumstances, and all three books were later collated into a collection entitled The 2½ Pillars of Wisdom. Which just goes to show that a lifelong quest to conquer Portuguese verbs can’t be that bad after all.

Portuguese verbs can appear complicated but once you find the right way to go about learning them, it is possible to make progress. No matter how good your vocabulary is with nouns and infinitives, you can’t get going in any language until you can use verbs.

Like many Romance languages, Portuguese verbs require conjugation – the change comes in the word endings – and you just have to learn the endings by heart. But the good news is that in modern Portuguese, for each tense there are only four or five endings that you have to learn – depending on whether you include the “tu” subject pronoun or not. Tu means “you” (singular) but is used mainly in European Portuguese in very familiar relationships – with close friends and lovers, and so on. It is rarely used in Brazil, where the other singular “you” – você – is common, and você very conveniently takes the same verb endings as the third person singular ele and ela (he, she). The very formal ways of saying “you” singular, o senhor to a man and a senhora to a woman, also take the você/ele/ela endings, ditto for the plural forms.

So, the first thing you have to decide is: do you set out to learn the five verb endings typically used in Portugal, or the four verb endings typically used in Brazil? If your ambition in life is to holiday or live in Brazil but never in Portugal, then just opt for the four endings. Being lazy and keen on short cuts, that’s what I did initially. But afterwards I regretted it and had to backtrack and learn the “tu” forms, because they are used quite a lot in Portuguese love songs, films etc; and because if you develop an interest in the language you will probably want to go to Portugal or other Portuguese-speaking countries anyway.

We won’t deal with irregular verbs in this post, just regular ones in the present tense only, to illustrate the learning process.

Image from Pixabay

Image from Pixabay

There are three sets of regular verbs in Portuguese

  1. those ending in ar, for example, falar, to speak
  2. those ending in er, for example, comer, to eat
  3. those ending in ir, for example, partir, to leave

To conjugate the verbs, you drop the ar, er and ir to get the verb stems – in these examples, the stems are fal, com, part – then add the appropriate endings to the stems.

1) Let’s conjugate the ar verb to see the verb endings, present tense

  • eu falo – I speak
  • tu falas – you (singular, familiar) speak
  • você/ele/ela fala – you (singular) speak, he speaks, she speaks
  • nós falamos – we speak
  • vocês/eles/elas falam – you (plural) speak, they speak

So, to learn the verb, this is what you have to memorise

  • Brazilian Portuguese: falo, fala, falamos, falam
  • European Portuguese: falo, falas, fala, falamos, falam

2) The five endings for er verbs are: -o, -es, -e, -emos, -em. So to conjugate comer, this is all you have to learn

  • Brazilian Portuguese: como, come, comemos, comem
  • European Portuguese: como, comes, come, comemos, comem

3) The five endings for ir verbs are exactly the same as for -er verbs except in the first person plural, where emos becomes imos: -o, -es, -e, -imos, -em. So to conjugate partir, this is what you have to learn

  • Brazilian Portuguese: parto, parte, partimos, partem
  • European Portuguese: parto, partes, parte, partimos, partem

There are other points to note that will simplify the learning process.

  • For all verbs in Portuguese in the present tense, except for six, the first person singular (“eu“) verb ending is always -o. The six exceptions are: sou and estou (I am), vou (I go), dou (I give), sei (I know) and hei (I have).
  • Likewise, for all verbs in Portuguese in the present tense, except for five, the “vocês/eles/elas” verb ending is either -am or -em. The five exceptions are: são and estão (you plural and they are), vão (you/they go), dão (you/they give), and hão (you/they have).
  • For all verbs in Portuguese, in any tense, the first person plural (‘nós‘) ending is always -mos.
  • As noted above, the only difference between er and ir verbs is the -emos/-imos in the first person plural.

Bernardo’s learning method: Whenever I would go swimming (my main form of exercise), to the rhythm of a word for each freestyle arm stroke I would chant the following: falo, fala, falamos, falam, como, come, comemos, comem, parto, parte, partimos, partem... I usually used the four-word sequence rather than the five-word one (I prefer even numbers to odd) remembering that in the present tense, the tu ending is formed simply by adding an s to the second word in each sequence: fala(s), come(s), parte(s). Easy! 😀

tile-214364_640However, although the four-word sequence was relatively easy to memorise, when it came to having a real conversation in Portuguese, I found that using one of the verb endings out of sequence was initially quite difficult. For example, if I wanted to say “we are speaking” my brain would have to go “falo, fala” first before allowing “falamos” to come to the fore. To counter this, you have to jumble up the sequence every now and then, giving yourself random bits in English to translate (for example: he is speaking – fala; they speak – falam; we speak – falamos; etc), or going through the sequence backwards: falam, falamos, fala, falas, falo.

When you can think of the right ending for the situation promptly every time, then you have mastered the present tense, and are ready to boldly go on to tackle the future, conditional, imperfect, past, subjunctive, imperative and all the irregular verbs and the so-called radical-changing verbs. How much time do you have, haha!


For a fuller explanation of the Portuguese subject pronouns, have a look at:

Know : List of Percentage of Websites by Languages

Hi, this is one of many interesting posts on the blog Propel Steps. Take note, My Five Romance languages are all in the top 20! Do go to Propel Steps, which has information on many topics. One of their recent posts is all about Portugal.


Most web pages on the Internet are in English, with varying amounts of information available in many other languages. In April 2013, almost 55% of the most visited websites used English as their content language. Other top languages which are used at least in 2% of websites are RussianGermanSpanishChineseFrenchJapaneseArabic and Portuguese.

The list below shows the Estimates of the percentages of Web sites using various content languages as of 12 March 2014

Rank Language Percentage
1 English 55.7%
2 Russian 6.0%
3 German 6.0%
4 Japanese 5.0%
5 Spanish 4.6%
6 French 4.0%
7 Chinese 3.3%
8 Portuguese 2.3%
9 Italian 1.8%
10 Polish 1.7%
11 Turkish 1.3%
12 Dutch 1.3%
13 Arabic 0.8%
14 Persian 0.8%
15 Czech 0.7%
16 Swedish 0.6%
17 Indonesian 0.4%
18 Korean 0.4%
19 Vietnamese 0.4%
20 Romanian 0.4%

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