Five words with other passports.

'Robot' can sound like a word invented in a modern engineering lab. Its route into English runs through Czech and the word robota, associated with compulsory labour. Karel Čapek's play R.U.R. helped carry it into wider use; his brother Josef suggested the name. Knowing this does not change how a robot moves, but it changes the little history you hear inside the word.

'Algebra' traces back through European languages to Arabic al-jabr, connected with restoration. 'Safari' comes from Swahili, with an earlier Arabic connection to a journey. 'Piano' is a shortened Italian name for an instrument capable of soft and loud tones. 'Pajamas' reaches English through Hindi, with Persian parts referring to leg and clothing. A maths lesson, a trip, a concert and bedtime quietly share the habit of borrowing.

It is easy to turn etymology into a party trick: announce an old meaning as if it were the one true definition. Languages do not work that way. People use words in new situations, and meanings continue to shift after a word crosses a border. The origin tells you something about a route, not everything about the destination. Try picking one ordinary word from your next conversation and reading its dictionary history. You may find that a language you thought of as a closed room is full of doors, and that the doors have been open for a long time.