Aonishiki Arata, a 21-year-old rikishi from Vinnitsya, Ukraine (sister city of Kielce, Poland), won the Emperor’s Cup at the just-completed Kyushu Basho in Fukuoka, Japan. The talented, fast-rising youth in former rikishi Aminishiki‘s new Ajigawa Stable is now being considered for Ozeki (Champion) rank in Sumo’s Top Makuuchi Division. Congratulations to him. おめでとう！
Category Archives: language
Where RLS Learnt Lallans
From Storyteller: The Life of Robert Louis Stevenson, by Leo Damrosch (Yale University Press, 2025), Kindle pp. 82-84:
Louis picked up much of his Lallans from a shepherd named John Todd, known as “Lang John” for his height, with whom he would tramp for hours in the hills while the sheep were grazing. “My friend the shepherd,” he said later, “speaks broad Scotch of the broadest, and often enough employs words that I do not understand myself.” Louis recalled Todd in an essay entitled “Pastoral”: “He laughed not very often, and when he did, with a sudden, loud haw-haw, hearty but somehow joyless, like an echo from a rock. His face was permanently set and coloured; ruddy and stiff with weathering; more like a picture than a face.”
But it was Todd’s eloquence that captivated Louis. “He spoke in the richest dialect of Scotch I ever heard, and this vocabulary he would handle like a master. I might count him with the best talkers, only that talking Scotch and talking English seem incomparable acts. He touched on nothing, at least, but he adorned it; when he narrated, the scene was before you.” Many of Louis’s original readers would have recognized a famous phrase that Samuel Johnson composed in Latin for his friend Oliver Goldsmith, Nihil tetegit quod non ornavit: “He touched nothing that he did not adorn.” The allusion is a beautiful tribute to the old shepherd, ranking his skill in language on a level with a writer of great distinction.
It was Todd, Louis said, who taught him to appreciate the spirit of the hills.
He it was that made it live for me, as the artist can make all things live. It was through him the simple strategy of massing sheep upon a snowy evening, with its attendant scampering of earnest, shaggy aides-de-camp, was an affair that I never wearied of seeing, and that I never weary of recalling to mind: the shadow of the night darkening on the hills, inscrutable black blots of snow shower moving here and there like night already come, huddles of yellow sheep and dartings of black dogs upon the snow, a bitter air that took you by the throat, unearthly harpings of the wind along the moors; and for centerpiece to all these features and influences, John winding up the brae [slope], keeping his captain’s eye upon all sides, and breaking, ever and again, into a spasm of bellowing that seemed to make the evening bleaker. It is thus that I still see him in my mind’s eye, perched on a hump of the declivity not far from Halkerside, his staff in airy flourish, his great voice taking hold upon the hills and echoing terror to the lowlands; I, meanwhile, standing somewhat back, until the fit should be over, and, with a pinch of snuff, my friend relapse into his easy, even conversation.
Though the shepherd’s casual talk might be “easy,” it was direct and to the point. In another essay Louis contrasted it with the conversational style in England, where “the contact of mind with mind [is] evaded as with terror. A Scottish peasant will talk more liberally out of his own experience. He will not put you by with conversational counters and small jests; he will give you the best of himself, like one interested in life and man’s chief end.”
Swanston people remembered that Todd used to say of Louis, “He is an awfu’ laddie for speirin’ questions about a’ thing, an’ whenever you turn your back, awa’ he gangs an’ writes it a’ doon.” A “speirin” questioner is prying and inquisitive. Years later some old-timers told a visitor the same thing. “Stevenson would dae naething but lie aboot the dykes. He wouldna wark. He was aye rinnin’ aboot wi’ lang Todd, amang the hills, getting him to tell a’ the stories he kent.” “Lang Todd” prompts one to wonder if John passed his nickname on to Long John Silver in Treasure Island.
Filed under Britain, education, language, literature
Escaping Russia to Riga, 1921
From Kosciuszko, We Are Here!: American Pilots of the Kosciuszko Squadron in Defense of Poland, 1919-1921, by Janusz Cisek (McFarland, 2025), Kindle Loc. 2673ff.
The last prison that Cooper was in was Vladykino. Here with two Polish officers he decided to escape. This time he succeeded. In a way he was forced to escape by his Polish counterparts. In his report filed after reaching Warsaw, he wrote that the two Polish prisoners managed to brake into the prison office in order to forge a few documents for the escape. At this point there was no return. Cooper was very well aware that not only the two direct perpetrators might be shot dead on the spot. He, after all, was considered to be a dangerous anti-revolutionary and enemy of the people. The escape must have happened at the beginning of March, 1921.
Since Cooper himself did not know Russian, he pretended to be mute, and on the long march from Moscow to the Latvian border, Lt. Stanisław Sokołowski and Corporal Stanisław Zalewski facilitated everything for him. They marched in the direction of Wielkie Łuki with Latvia as their general destination, which was then, as through the entire inter-war period, the most efficient crossing point between the workers’ paradise and the outside world. It was through this very border that Boris Savinkov, the famous terrorist, returned to Russia, lured by the mirage of the great anti–Bolshevik conspiracy. Food was obtained by exchanging the clothes they had received in the Amcross packages. The escapees brushed with arrest several times. They were, after all, moving across completely unknown territory with neither a compass nor a map. Cooper recalled that he spent one night up to his neck in water. In any case in an expedition covering over 800 kilometers, the sympathy, or at least indifference, of the local population had to play a crucial role. The last five days of the route to the border was on foot through mud and swamps. At the last minute, a smuggler they had engaged tried to betray the escapees by refusing to lead them across the border. Only threatened with death did he decide to fulfill his part of the contract. The border was crossed at 2:00 A.M. on April 23, 1921. “We came to ‘Amcross’ in rags and without shoes, hungry and completely fatigued,” as Cooper wrote in his first dispatch from Riga.
The shoes were payment for the smuggler who had led them across the border. Cooper would not have been himself if he had not immediately expressed his gratitude to Amcross and brought attention to the need for better care of the American prisoners still held by the Bolsheviks. He wrote about this a few weeks later, to Hoover among others, including a few practical hints. He brought attention to the still existing legal avenues of action by Western charitable organizations in Russia, he stressed the attitude of the two Polish officers and the local population. As an eyewitness, he was also a credible source of information about the conditions prevailing under the communist rule in Russia: “Cooper, a prisoner in Russia, states that Russia is full of propaganda against United States, France and Great Britain; people are told that these countries are responsible for all trouble in Russia. German influence is strong and popular.” In another report he confirmed the level of control by the new regime. “Absolute control of Bolsheviks, either they will stay in control or anarchy.” This experience of the nature of the communist system, gained through direct contact with the iron hand of terror, remained with Cooper throughout his life. He became an unrelenting opponent of the system, and he intended to write a book about his experiences. However he never fully realized his intention. The only fragments were included in his book Things Men Die For. It is worth mentioning here the durability of the anti–American propaganda, whose influence is present even in contemporary academic works. Simonenko, already mentioned in these pages, states in an article about the Kościuszko Squadron that after the signing of the Polish-Bolshevik peace in Riga, Cooper was most ordinarily released from prison and arrived to Poland without any problems. He does not say, however, why he had to overcome the boundless Russian territory in rags and on foot, nor why he crossed the border illegally.
…
Meanwhile, the Polish authorities and the squadron airmen awaited the miraculous rescue of their comrade. His journey from Riga to Warsaw began on April 29, his train reached the capital on May 3, the day celebrated by Poles as Constitution Day. As a witness to the event recalled, “he received a great ovation.” It so happened that this was the first time that Constitution Day had been celebrated without a major war being waged, although the borders had not yet been officially recognized by the Conference of Ambassadors. It is true that in Silesia the third uprising had broken out against the Germans, but Poland was not officially involved in that conflict. Help was provided to the insurgents unofficially using paramilitary organizations such as the Polish Military Organization. Thus, the 3rd of May in 1921 was celebrated solemnly and in an atmosphere of peace, as the new constitution was declared in March and a peace treaty was signed with Russia.
Ubiquitous Street Signs in Poland
Zapraszamy lit. ‘We invite’ (= ‘Welcome’) is on nearly every storefront, but I haven’t seen it on welcome mats. One also sees Dziękujemy ‘we thank you’.
Among the most common prohibitive streetsigns are: Zakas Parkowanie ‘No parking’. Many streets have paid (Płatny) parking zones with one interactive Parkomat meter per zone. Blue signs with P mark the beginning, and often specify whether parking is parallel, angled, or perpendicular to the sidewalk. The ends of paid parking zones are marked with blue signs reading Koniec ‘end’.
Many shops and restaurants also display Zakas Palenia ‘no smoking’. Lots of Poles smoke or vape and you often encounter groups of people standing around outside taking smoke breaks (in the cold) before going back inside. It took me a while to figure out that the Papierosy advertised at many stores are ‘cigarettes’. What gave it away for me were signs advertising e-papierosy.
Lifts are labeled Winda (sg.) or Windy (pl.). Ground floors (parter) are numbered 0, and basements are numbered -1. Each upper floor is a piętro and the newly upgraded elevator in our building announces piętro zero at the ground floor and piętro minus jeden in the basement where the recycling bins are.
Our rather nice building also has signs that warn residents not to park their rowery ‘bicycles’, hulajnogi ‘scooters’, or deskorolki ‘skateboards’ in the hallways. Hulajnogi elektryczne are as much a danger to pedestrians on Polish sidewalks as they are everywhere else.
Poles have a reputation for being heavy drinkers, and all manner of liquor is readily available even on Sundays in the ubiquitous Żabka convenience shops, but we have been surprised to see so many varieties of very tasty beers and wines (and even hard liquor) on storeshelves and in restaurants that are labeled bezalkoholowe (0,0%).
Polish Signage: Days of the Week
So far, I’m encountering far more Polish in writing than in I am in speech, so I’m learning to read more words than to understand spoken words. I thought I should start a series of blogposts about some of the ubiquitous practical signage that is not much addressed either in my Duolingo lessons or in my grammar books. I’ll start with the way days of the week appear on many commercial doorways.
The long word for Monday is one more reason to hate Mondays: poniedziałek. The rest of the workday names are much shorter: wtorek, środa, czwartek, piątek. All except ‘Wednesday’ end in the diminutive -ek, which helps distinguish two of them from the ordinals czwarty ‘fourth’ and piąty ‘fifth’. Wtorek is related to the older Slavic ordinal for ‘second’, but Polish now uses drugi for ‘second’.
The word for ‘Wednesday’ basically means ‘middle’ (as in German Mittwoch, literally ‘midweek’), and it occurs in compounds such as śródmieście ‘midtown, downtown’.
Sobota ‘Saturday’ comes ultimately from Hebrew via Greek and Latin for Sabbath. But niedziela ‘Sunday’ comes from a Proto-Slavic compound that meant ‘no work’. (English weekend has now also been borrowed into Polish.)
So poniedziałek ‘Monday’ can be parsed into a compound typical of many Slavic languages, with po ‘after’ and a diminutive form niedziałek from niedziela ‘Sunday’, thus ‘the day after no work’. Alternations between l and ł in different forms of the same word are not at all rare in Polish.
Stores that list their hours open for business will often abbreviate Mon–Fri as Pon–Pt, or Mon–Thu as Pon–Czw, if they open longer hours on Fri–Sat. A university calendar abbreviates the weekdays thus: Pn. Wt. Śr. Cz. Pt.
In other contexts, niedziela ‘Sunday’ is often abbreviated Nd. or Ndz., tacitly recognizing its two-morpheme source. Most businesses offer no service hours on Sunday: nieczynne.
Mariners Manager Don Wakamatsu
From Kenichi Zenimura, Japanese American Baseball Pioneer, by Bill Staples, Jr. (McFarland, 2011), Kindle Locations 37-53:
When Hall of Famer Frank Robinson was named the Cleveland Indians manager in 1975, he said that he wished Jackie Robinson was there with him to appreciate the significance of the moment. Jackie had died just three years before Frank became the first African American manager in MLB history.
In January 2009, I earned the distinction of becoming the first Asian American manager in MLB history when I was asked to lead the Seattle Mariners. [Ichiro joined the Mariners in 2001.] Unlike Frank Robinson, there was not one person who I wished could be with me to appreciate the moment – there were thousands.
I often talk about “those who came before me.” These people include my family, the thousands who were sent into internment camps during World War II, the men who served bravely in the 442nd, and the pioneers of the early Japanese American baseball leagues.
With the exception of my family, none of the others were with me physically when I joined the Mariners. They were with me in spirit though.
I am a fourth generation Japanese American, also known as a Yonsei. I was born in Hood River, Oregon, in 1963, and as a child I had no idea of what my family had endured during World War II. In actuality, they kept a lot of that from me. It wasn’t until college that I started to learn more about the past and that dark chapter of American history.
The implications of my heritage first struck me when a government check arrived in the mail in the late 1980s. It was my father’s share of reparations for the internment of Japanese Americans in the 1940s. My dad was born in the Tule Lake camp in California, just south of the Oregon border. I didn’t quite understand what the check was for. All I remember was my dad’s reaction: “it was all too little, too late.”‘
Over the years, my curiosity about my heritage has grown. From a friendship with baseball historian Kerry Yo Nakagawa I learned in great detail about Japanese Americans and baseball in the internment camps. I imagined the game I loved played behind coils of barbed wire and realized just how little I knew about my past.
Since then, I have discovered that the internment camp chapter is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Japanese American baseball history. There is so much more underneath. For example, few people know that
• in 1897 the first person of Japanese ancestry attempted to play in the majors;
• the first Japanese American baseball team was organized in 1903;
• a major league “color-line” drawn against Japanese players was publicly acknowledged in 1905;
• the first Japanese American baseball league was founded in 1910; and
• between 1922 and 1931, Nisei and Negro League teams did more to export the American game to Japan than their major league counterparts.All proof that there is still so much of the fascinating Japanese American baseball history that has yet to be told.
Some Polish Clickbait Ads
Seniorzy. Czuję się jakbym miał nowe kolana.
Seniors. I feel like I have new knees.
Aparat słuchowy na 2025 rok – rewolucja w technologii słuchu.
Hearing aid of 2025 – revolution in hearing technology.
Dowiedz się więcej. Learn more.
Otwarcie nowego sklepu, nieinwazyjne glukometr – 50% zniżki.
Opening of a new store, noninvasive glucometer – 50% discounts.
Superszybki internet w TOYA. Tanie pakiety aż do 1 Gb/s.
Superfast internet with TOYA. Cheap packages up to 1 Gb/s.
Sprawdź. Check/verify.
Najwygodniejsze buty na zimę 2025 dla 70-letnich seniorów.
The most comfortable shoes for winter 2025 for 70-year-old seniors.
Buszuj szybko i zwinnie w Internecie. Otwórz.
Browse quickly and nimbly in the Internet. Open.
Neuropatia nie wynika z niedoboru witaminy B.
Neuropathy does not result from vitamin B deficiency.
Poznaj prawdziwego winowajcę.
Meet the real culprit.
Czy Twe oczy mogą kłamać. Could your eyes be lying?
Przekonaj w Vision Express. Convince with Vision Express.
Test IQ
1-2 poprawne [correct] = IQ 85
…
10 poprawne [correct] = IQ 150+
Rozpocznij Quiz [Start Quiz]
Poland’s Eastern Border, c. 1920
From Kosciuszko, We Are Here!: American Pilots of the Kosciuszko Squadron in Defense of Poland, 1919-1921, by Janusz Cisek (McFarland, 2025), Kindle Loc. 1390ff.
To understand better the genesis of the war and Piłsudski’s aims, it is essential to present a general background of this conflict. Between ethnic Poland and ethnic Russia stretches a belt of land several hundred kilometers wide, inhabited by a population that is neither Russian nor Polish. After a few centuries of political union with Poland, Ukrainians, Lithuanians, Baltic nations, and even to some extent Belorussians succeeded in creating their own national movements at the turn of the twentieth century. Poland was the dominant political power until the end of the eighteenth century, but by the time of the second and third partitions of Poland (1793, 1795) Russia had taken over control of those areas. In spite of this, the Poles were a dominant element of both the economy and culture of those territories. For many of local leaders the tradition of a multinational Polish Kingdom, or Rzeczpospolita, with its privileges and freedom, was still an attractive example. All these matters were incomprehensible in the West, where all Polish claims to territories east of the Bug River were treated as imperialistic, even after two important declarations of the Bolshevik regime. In the Peace Decree of November 8, 1917, they announced:
The Government regards as an honest or democratic peace … an immediate peace without annexations (i.e., without the seizure of foreign land, without the forcible taking over of foreign nationalities) and without contribution.
The decree was issued at the Second All-Russian Congress of Workers’ and Soldiers’ Deputies in Piotrogrod (St. Petersburg). Subsequent documents included the Declaration of the Rights of the Nations of Russia from November 15, 1917, guaranteeing the rights of self-determination to break away and to create independent states. Even more important was the decree of the Council of the Peoples Commissars from the August 29, 1918, about the annulment of the partition treaties in relation to Poland. According to many lawyers, these proclamations restored the status quo ante and legitimated Poland’s claims to lands within her 1772 borders. Of course, politicians in Warsaw realized the impossibility of openly claiming the return of those territories, mainly because of the awakening national consciences of the nations inhabiting these lands. Anyway, this option remained more or less in the propaganda arsenal.
Fundamentally, there were two approaches to the territorial shape of the state. The National Democrats headed by Roman Dmowski pursued the incorporation of the borderland areas into the Polish state and the gradual polonization of those people. Piłsudski countered Dmowski with his federation program, or the construction of national states friendly to Poland, which would fulfill the national aspirations of the Ukrainians and the Lithuanians and would separate Poland from Russian threat. In February 1919, following the German armies’ retreat from the “Ober-Ost,” the Bolshevik armies moved west. When they met Polish military outposts in the vicinity of Bereza Kartuska, armed conflict ensued. At the same time there were battles and skirmishes between Poles and Ukrainians in East Galicia. The conflict on this part of the frontline was complicated because there were at least three political entities that claimed principal state authority in Ukraine. It is common knowledge that until 1914 the Ukrainians, who did not have their own state, were divided by the Austro-Hungarian and Russian border. The eastern part of their national territory belonged to Russia and created a group of politicians opposing Russian domination. From this base came the later ally of Piłsudski and Ataman of the Ukrainian People’s Republic, Semen Petlura. Part of western Galicia under Austro-Hungarian control, and the capital Lwów, was turned into the Western Ukrainian People’s Republic with Evhen Petrushewich at its head. Its policy was decidedly anti–Polish. In addition there was the Ukrainian communist movement controlled from Moscow and led by the Bulgarian born Christian Rakovski. This triangle remained unchanged, with the exception of attempts at cooperation by both of the national wings of the Ukrainian movement against Poland. There was also a small but relatively influential group around the “Hetmanate” government of Pavlo Skoropadski appointed at the end of World War I, when the Germans occupied Ukrainian territory.
The situation underwent some changes from the conclusion of the May–June offensive of 1919, in which the Polish Army forced the Ukrainians back beyond the Zbruch River. Shortly after, namely in August 1919, under the pressure of anti–Bolshevik armies, the so-called White Russians, Kiev fell. The Tsarist generals did not even want to hear of independence for Ukraine. They fought all factions of Ukrainian political life opting for the breakaway of Ukraine from Russia. The occupation of Kiev signified the extinguishing of all hope of an independent state. Quite simply the Ukrainians did not have the resources to fight both Poland and Russia. Petlura was first to grasp the political situation. Since it was impossible to fight all the real and alleged enemies of Ukraine, it was necessary to ally, even at the cost of territorial concessions, with a partner who guaranteed political independence. It was Piłsudski’s idea of a federation that seemed to offer the most promise of an independent Ukrainian state. After a few weeks of hesitation, Petlura, in November 1919, sent Andrij Livickij to Warsaw with the aim of preparing for talks about a military-political alliance. This was the origin of the Polish-Ukrainian alliance, which was finalized in April 1920 by a political pact on April 21 and a military convention on April 24. With this ally Pilsudski moved on Kiev. However, as time showed, the mirage of an independent Ukraine disintegrated. This happened as a result of the relative apathy of the population, which had suffered six years of war. It was also due to the impossibility of ensuring a longer period for the organization of a state apparatus and administration after the Polish armed forces had taken Kiev on May 7, 1920.
Liberating Bukovina, August 1917
From The Other Trench: The WW1 Diary and Photos of a German Officer, by Alexander Pfeifer and Philipp Cross (True Perspective Press, 2024), Kindle pp. 243-245:
1.8.1917 At 6 o’clock in the morning, my company again takes the lead towards Moldauisch Banilla — terrible heat. The Hutsuls erect triumphal arches for us and distribute bouquets of flowers. Almost all of them have beautiful faces. As always, the Russians have looted and burned everything during their retreat. We again capture five dispersed Russians in front of Moldauisch Banilla.
…
We continue further towards Moldauisch Banilla in the afternoon, which is very heavily occupied by the Russians. Because my company deployed three assault squads, I just have 40 men left and go in reserve. The entire jäger brigade attacks. I receive heavy artillery fire and have two wounded. Moldauisch Banilla is mostly taken towards the evening. This is a large place with a large German colonist quarter and a Jewish quarter. The residents had a bad day in the town, which was bombarded from two sides, with many being dead and wounded. Multiple houses burn. Late in the evening, I move into a Hutsul house in Moldauisch Banilla, where we are given a very friendly welcome by the residents.
…
2.8.1917 Forward march at 6 o’clock in the morning. An old Jew bangs like mad for joy on a Russian drum as we march past. The Russians have cleared the heights to the east of Moldauisch Banilla by morning — the thankful inhabitants kiss my hands while marching through. My company is taking the lead in our division today.
We march over a wooded ridge towards Czudyn. The last Russians disappeared into the forest an hour ago after being shot at by our patrols. It is tropical heat again today. My assault squad, under Lieutenant Fischer, surprises an enemy battalion bivouacking in the village of Neuhütte, which flees under fire and later retreats hastily; so that when we advance, we find the village no longer occupied. During the evening, the residents, who hid in the forests with their cattle for a week, return and kiss our hands with joy. I am staying with a Romanian farmer, and the whole family is touchingly looking after us. A neighbour even brought us a slice of honeycomb.
…
Just as we had made ourselves comfortable, we were alarmed at 3 o’clock in the morning and marched to Czudyn, an endless nest where the other companies took up outposts, whilst my company quartered itself as a reserve in Romanian houses.
3.8.1917 My hostess brings milk and eggs again in the morning. There are eggs, geese, chickens, milk, and an abundance of livestock here, and it is very cheap. I have drunk incredible amounts of milk in Bukovina so far. It was previously called “Mologa” by the Hutsuls, and now “Lapte” by the Romanians.
There is an incredible tropical heat again. At 8 o’clock in the morning, we continue to the church in Czudyn, and my company secures the place via field guards. Bouquets of flowers are presented to us everywhere, and all the horses and carriages are wreathed. We have been pulled out of the front line today and are now division reserves. The Russians are in a hurry to flee. They didn’t burn anything apart from the bridges in Neuhütte and Czudyn.
I am living with Poles. My company is stationed as field guards.
…
4.8.1917 I slept wonderfully in a proper bed. In the morning, I march behind the battalion that marched ahead over Idzestie and to Petroutz, where there is a longer lunch break. I then catch up with the battalion in Kupka. We encounter thunderstorms twice, the likes of which I have never experienced before. We attack Fantana Alba (Rom. ‘White Fountain’) towards the evening, where the Russians want to prevent us from leaving the forested mountains. We stay in the forest as brigade reserves, where we can fortunately light large fires and dry ourselves. I was wet to the skin despite the rubber coat. I am spending the night on the stove bench inside a lonely Ruthenian forest keeper’s house, inhabited by 1000 flies.
How Many Zs in Polish Scrabble
As we settle into our academic year in Poland and deal with Polish signage everywhere, I found myself wondering how many Zs there are in Polish Scrabble sets. English Wikipedia tabulates Scrabble letter distributions in Polish and many other languages. Z is extra common in Polish because it occurs in the common digraphs cz, rz, and sz, as illustrated in the name of the American baseball player nicknamed “Scrabble”: Marc Rzepczynski. Z- also occurs as a prefix on many words. (W- and Wy- are also common prefixes.)
Here is Wikipedia’s table of Scrabble tiles in ascending order of rarity, with the rarer ones scoring more points.
- 2 blank tiles (scoring 0 points)
- 1 point: A ×9, I ×8, E ×7, O ×6, N ×5, Z ×5, R ×4, S ×4, W ×4
- 2 points: Y ×4, C ×3, D ×3, K ×3, L ×3, M ×3, P ×3, T ×3
- 3 points: B ×2, G ×2, H ×2, J ×2, Ł ×2, U ×2
- 5 points: Ą ×1, Ę ×1, F ×1, Ó ×1, Ś ×1, Ż ×1
- 6 points: Ć ×1
- 7 points: Ń ×1
- 9 points: Ź ×1
