'Bub-bub', 'tic-tac', 'patapam...': words that imitate sounds
If you close your eyes and think about the noise a dog makes, what sound comes to mind? Probably 'bub-bub'. If we ask an English speaker, however, they will probably say woof-woof, and a Japanese speaker will answer wan-wan. The same animal, the same bark, and three different responses. This is the beauty of onomatopoeia: they seem universal, but in reality each language adapts them to its structures, its phonetics, and the culture that is associated with them.


PalmOnomatopoeia is a word that imitates sounds. The term comes from the ancient Greek ('onoma', 'name', and 'poiein', 'to do'). They have always served to bring order to the noises of the world: those of animals, those of nature, those of objects, and even those of people. They are words that, apparently, escape the basic rule of the arbitrariness of language, that is, the idea that words have no natural connection with what they designate. However, they only do so apparently, because when we look at them closely we see that they are not as 'natural' as they seem.
Let's take the case of the rooster. In Catalan, it goes 'quiquiriquico''; in Spanish, 'cock-a-doodle-doo; in French, 'cocorico', and in English, 'cock-a-doodle-dooEach language chooses the sounds that are easiest or most familiar to imitate the cry of the same animal. In reality, there is no 'universal' rooster cry: there are as many versions as there are languages that can voice it.
Combination of sounds
The same thing happens with objects. A clock, in Catalan, goes 'tick-tock', as in Czech ('tik tak) and in German ('tick tack')In English, however, it does 'tick-tock; in Basque, 'tiki-taka', and in Japanese, 'kachi-kachi'Why? Because each language has its own rules for combining sounds—what linguists call 'phonotactics'—and this influences imitation. Japanese, for example, avoids consonants at the end of syllables, so where we hear 'crack'' When a branch breaks, they put 'little things either 'paka'.
There are also some amusing differences in the human realm. When we imitate a baby's cry, in Catalan we use 'ue', 'güe', or 'engaño'; in Spanish, 'boo boo and in Hungarian, 'oá oá'. To laugh, in Catalan, 'ha ha', in Czech they can say 'must already as 'cha cha' and in Spanish it is usually written 'ha ha'. These are conventions that have to do with the alphabet and how each language associates sound and letter.
In Catalan, many onomatopoeia have ceased to be simple imitations and have become verbs and nouns. 'Siuxiuejar' comes from 'siu-xiu', 'to splash', the sound of a body treading on water, and 'zumbir', the sound made by a body moving quickly through the air. This evolution (onomatopoeia becoming fully-fledged lexicon) shows how deeply rooted these words can be in the language.
Catalan, like any language, has a very lively repertoire of onomatopoeia: 'chup-chup' for the slow simmering of a pot, 'cloc-cloc' for a chicken, 'pam' for a dry knock, 'ric-ric' for the sound of a cricket, 'zum-z'. These are expressions that are passed down from generation to generation and that any speaker understands without having to give too many explanations.
Comics are another area in which onomatopoeia is essential. In the panels of Catalan comics we can find things like 'pam!', 'zas!', and 'bum!'. In American comics, expressions like 'bang!' and pow!'. And in the Japanese, the manga, there is a real festival of sounds: from 'shito-shito', which represents the fine rain until 'shiin' to indicate silence. Japanese authors have turned onomatopoeia into such a rich expressive code that it can sometimes take up half a page.
Linguists have studied that it is no coincidence that many onomatopoeia share similar features across several languages. This is called 'iconicity': certain sounds evoke certain sensations. High-pitched vowels like [i] or [e] are associated with small or high-pitched things; open vowels like [a] or [o] are associated with large or deep things. This is why in many languages, onomatopoeia for loud bangs has an [a] or [u] in the beginning, and high-pitched screams have an [i]. These are not fixed rules, but they can be considered tendencies that show how we relate sound to perception.
The cultural dimension of onomatopoeia is also considerable. In fact, onomatopoeia is often fundamental in oral storytelling, especially because it helps recreate the atmosphere of the stories, tales, or legends being told. Similarly, in folk songs, expressions like 'ra-ta-ta-ta'' for imitating a drum are part of the collective repertoire.
Bridge to vocabulary
Beyond literature and culture, onomatopoeia also plays a practical role in the learning process. Children often learn 'moo', 'boo-boo', or 'mine' sooner than more 'abstract' words. The sounds that are easier to pronounce have immediate meaning and connect with sensory experiences. That's why many educators use them as a bridge to general vocabulary.
In short, onomatopoeia is like little special effects of language. We find it in everyday life, in comics, in songs, and even in word games. It allows us to reproduce sounds, give rhythm to stories, and add a touch of humor or surprise to speech. It is, after all, just another piece of the linguistic puzzle: each language makes them its own, which reminds us that speaking is also, in part, interpreting the sounds around us.