Names
Several hypotheses attempt to explain the origin of the term "Jerusalem cricket". One suggests the term originated from a mixing of Navajo and Christian terminology, resulting from the strong connection Franciscan priests had with the Navajos in developing their dictionary and vocabulary. Such priests may have heard the Navajos speak of a "skull insect" and took this as a reference to Calvary (also known as Skull Hill) outside Jerusalem near the place where Jesus was said to have been crucified.
Several Navajo names refer to the insect's head:
- c’ic’in lici (Tsiitsʼiin łichíʼí) "red-skull"
- c’os bic’ic lici (Chʼosh bitsiitsʼiin łichíʼí) "red-skull bug"
- c’ic’in lici’ I coh (Tsiitsʼiin łichíʼítsoh) "big red-skull"
- wo se c’ini or rositsini or yo sic’ini (Wóó tsiitsʼiin/Yaaʼ tsiitsʼiiní) "skull insect"
Other names include the Hopi qalatötö ("shiny bug"), the Spanish niño de la tierra ("earth child") and cara de niño ("child's face"). In California, a common nickname for the insect is 'potato bug', originating from the idea that the bug could grow much larger and eat a potato whole.
Read more about this topic: Jerusalem Cricket
Famous quotes containing the word names:
“And even my sense of identity was wrapped in a namelessness often hard to penetrate, as we have just seen I think. And so on for all the other things which made merry with my senses. Yes, even then, when already all was fading, waves and particles, there could be no things but nameless things, no names but thingless names. I say that now, but after all what do I know now about then, now when the icy words hail down upon me, the icy meanings, and the world dies too, foully named.”
—Samuel Beckett (1906–1989)
“I do not see why, since America and her autumn woods have been discovered, our leaves should not compete with the precious stones in giving names to colors; and, indeed, I believe that in course of time the names of some of our trees and shrubs, as well as flowers, will get into our popular chromatic nomenclature.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“Every man who has lived for fifty years has buried a whole world or even two; he has grown used to its disappearance and accustomed to the new scenery of another act: but suddenly the names and faces of a time long dead appear more and more often on his way, calling up series of shades and pictures kept somewhere, “just in case” in the endless catacombs of the memory, making him smile or sigh, and sometimes almost weep.”
—Alexander Herzen (1812–1870)