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Every day at Updata One, millions of words flow through our technical ecosystems. We process, sort, and analyze text in more than 50 languages. But language is never just data.

In honor of May 24th—the Bulgarian Day of the Alphabet, Education, Culture, and Slavonic Literature—we wanted to step away from the processing metrics and explore the soul of linguistics. We asked our team a simple question: What is the one word that made you fall in love with a language, and what is the story behind it?

What we uncovered is a beautiful truth that no machine can replicate. An AI can instantly translate a definition, but it can never experience the human memories, transitions, and emotions trapped between the letters. Here is our team’s collective look into the untranslatable vocabulary of the human heart.

The Inner Compasses: Words of Resilience, Longing, & Home

Language has a unique way of giving us a map when we are navigating life’s biggest transitions. For many of our teammates, their favorite words double as an internal compass.

  • Sisu (Finnish) — Shared by Rositsa Shishkova: Meaning guts, inner strength, and the stubborn determination to keep going when things feel impossible. For Rositsa, sisu is the emotional anchor that gave her the courage to build a life from scratch in an unknown place. “Looking back, it totally paid off and allowed me to have two homes. (Though you also need sisu to consume Finnish salty liquorice… they are very strong!)”
  • Ojalá (Spanish) — Shared by Sara Merino: Rooted in the Arabic insha’Allah, this word translates to “I hope” or “I wish.” For Sara, its beauty lies in the perfect equilibrium it creates between desire and acceptance: “Hoping for the future, but gracefully surrendering to whatever fate might bring.”
  • Sensizlik (Turkish) — Shared by Mirsen Fehratovic: This word captures the precise emotional state of incompleteness when living life without a specific person. Mirsen discovered it while expressing the lingering void he felt after moving to Turkey: “The person I wanted to share those moments with wasn’t there. A friend introduced me to sensizlik, and it perfectly described my emotional state.”
  • Милея (Bulgarian) — Shared by Ganime Ilyaz: A word heavy with nostalgia and a deep, almost painful longing for what we love. For Ganime, this word connects her to the millions of Bulgarians living abroad, evoking memories of her childhood and her father working long hours as a truck driver.
  • Пяшчота (Belarusian) — Shared by Valeria Lopez: Meaning “tenderness,” but carrying a much softer, deeply personal intimacy. “It’s one of the first words that made me see the beauty of Belarusian,” Valeria reflects. “It’s about those quiet, warm moments of true closeness.”
  • Кохай (Ukrainian) — Shared by Mariya Cherneva: Mariya’s love for Ukrainian music led her to notice how Slavic languages categorize love differently. While обич implies love built through habit and милвам centers on caressing, кохаю is explicitly rooted in the physical and emotional concept of touching (докосвам).

2. The Architecture of Rest: Words for the Art of Living

In a fast-paced world, some languages have mastered the vocabulary of slowing down. These words remind us that resting is an active, essential part of being human.

  • Dolce far niente (Italian) — Shared by Desislava Petrova: Literally “the sweetness of doing nothing.” Desislava discovered this during her university years, and it changed her perspective entirely. “For someone who is constantly on the run, idleness felt like wasting time. This phrase taught me to slow down, appreciate what I have, eat the pizza, and just live.”
  • Siesta (Spanish) — Shared by Mariya Hantova: While the phonetics initially charmed her, Mariya fell in love with the deeper concept—a designated window where human relaxation harmonizes with the afternoon heat while “Mother Nature takes over with her powerful forces.” It carries a nuance a simple “nap” can’t catch
  • Айляк (Bulgarian) — Shared by Teodora Belezhkova: A badge of honor for anyone from Plovdiv, this slang word represents the culturally positive philosophy of enjoying idleness in a completely laid-back way, free from stress or societal pressure. As Teodora asks, “Isn’t that what we all need?”
  • Smultronställe (Swedish) — Shared by Devora Kotseva: Literally “a place where wild strawberries grow,” it figuratively signifies a secret, treasured place where you go to find peace. For Devora, it is a permanent reminder to actively return to the hidden mental and physical spots that bring calmness.
  • Utepils (Norwegian) — Shared by Tsveta Asenova: The highly specific concept of enjoying your very first beer outdoors in the sunshine after a long, dark winter. Tsveta fell in love with it because it instantly captures the collective sigh of relief and joy of embracing Northern beauty.
  • Wabi-sabi (Japanese) — Shared by Teodora Belezhkova: The Japanese philosophy of finding beauty in imperfection and the natural aging of things. To Teodora, it serves as a gentle lesson in self-love: “Who is perfect after all? It reminds us to love our own scars and find beauty in the cracks.”

3. Delightful Quirks & Linguistic Surprises

Sometimes, we fall in love with a language simply because it hits a funny, hyper-specific human behavior or reveals an unexpected cultural connection.

  • “Sans changement” (French) — Shared by Todor Kiriakov: To Bulgarian Millennials stuck indoors on rainy afternoons, the French phrase for “no change” will forever sound like “son shon zhmo”, repeated during the multi-lingual radio updates on the Danube River water levels. For Todor, it will always represent the sound of foreign language, puzzling, funny, and alluring.
  • 사과 (sa-gwa / Korean) — Shared by Gabriela Lazarova: Gabriela spent months being confused by why movie characters constantly offered physical apples to each other during tense apologies. Her research uncovered a brilliant linguistic quirk: in Korean, the word for “apple” and the noun for “apology” are homonyms, allowing a fruit to double as a peace offering.
  • Офлянквам се (Bulgarian) — Shared by Teodora Belezhkova: A highly expressive, colloquial verb describing the universal art of procrastinating and avoiding what you’re supposed to be doing. Teodora finds the true genius of the word in its actual grammatical classification: an intransitive verb of imperfective aspect. It is, quite literally, endless.
  • Виолетка (Bulgarian) — Shared by Jana Milosheva: Derived from the Latin viola, this word effortlessly triggers a sensory combination of sight, sound, and smell. For Jana, the word carries a lifelong aesthetic joy. “This is my favorite color and smell, and it really sounds tasty, don’t you think?”
  • Дънгалеци (Bulgarian) — Shared by Roslava Stoyanova: A rare dialect word from the Rhodope mountains referring to the bells placed on livestock. Roslava recalls an unforgettable mountain evening where she learned that the phrase “да си раздрънкам дънгалеците” means to softly ring different-sized bells arranged on a stick so their soothing, rhythmic sound washes your daily worries away.

4. Pure Wonder & Sacred Admiration

Beyond daily utility, language rises to heights of pure aesthetic joy and philosophical clarity, capturing concepts that describe the summit of human goodness.

  • Mehsoos (Urdu) — Shared by Umair Habib: Umair first felt the weight of this word while reading Urdu poetry. It represents a profound intuition or sensation that completely precedes actual words. “No English word quite carries that melody,” Umair notes. “It’s soft, heavy, and exact all at once.”
  • Émerveillement (French) — Shared by Teodora Belezhkova: Going far beyond being merely impressed, this word describes an emotional uplift—a childlike sense of pure, absorbing enchantment. For Teodora, it is the exact word needed to describe the peace of sitting entirely alone by the sea.
  • Αλήθεια (Greek) — Shared by Irina Zhivkova: Irina fell in love with the Greek word for “truth” purely because of its musicality. Pronounced a’li.ei.a, it holds a distinct, beautiful melody and a natural rhythm that effortlessly brings daily conversations to life.
  • Виждам (Bulgarian) — Shared by Irina Zhivkova: Meaning “I see,” Irina adores this verb because it shares an ancient linguistic root with “wisdom,” serving as a quiet reminder of the hidden threads that bind seemingly unrelated cultures together.
  • Sincere (English) — Shared by Gergana Hristova: Derived from the Latin sincērus (pure, clean, genuine). Gergana was struck by its untainted beauty while listening to an interview, realizing we often forget the depth of words we use every day.
  • Прекрасен (Bulgarian) — Shared by Gergana Hristova: Translating literally to “too beautiful,” Gergana notes with a touch of sadness that this word is fading from casual conversations. It serves as an urgent reminder to pause and allow ourselves to experience things that are “too beautiful.”
  • Обожание (Bulgarian) — Shared by Siyana Vacheva:Rooted in the Old Bulgarian word for God (бог), this term denotes a supreme, almost worshipful form of reverence. For Siyana, the word echoes the literary world of Yordan Yovkov: “I am drawn to the idea that beauty is pure and sacred, and therefore worthy of veneration because it embodies goodness, purity, and moral integrity.”
  • Мир (Russian) — Shared by Nikol Haytova: A profound word with a double meaning that holds both “world” and “peace.” For Nikol, who moved, studied, and found love there, the word stands as an urgent, timeless insistence that the world and peace fundamentally belong together: “Миру мир!”

With these beautiful and very timely reminder, we conclude our campaign inspired by and created in honor of May 24th. We hope we managed to ignite your admiration of language. Now, we turn the question over to you: What’s the one word that made YOU fall in love with language?