My sound card doesn't work so I can't listen to the video.
I do know that sex are what Sarf Efricans put potatoes in, though.
My mother thought it was hilarious when South African children asked for arse cream.
The amusement is in both directions, though. In Afrikaans, the letter "y" is pronounced "ay", as in "kyk", meaning "look". An Afrikaans friend of my mother's thought it hilarious when her daughter said "Kyk Auntie D..." and my mother replied "I haven't any cake. You can have a biscuit." Afrikaners typically call older friends "oom" (uncle) or "tante" (aunt) even if they are unrelated.
Many years ago, some Afrikaners with whom I was travelling, in what is now Namibia, asked me to translate the idiom "Ek sal 'n dooie hou kry as ek in die kooi klim."
I got it nearly right. With some puzzlement, I translated it as "I shall get a death blow when I climb into the cow". That's when I learned that there is a word "kooi", meaning "cot", which sounds the same as "koei", meaning "cow". My companions found it so hilarious that they asked me to repeat it while one of them recorded it on a tape rcorder.
My mother was at first annoyed by South Africans saying that they would do something "just now" but not do it immediately. She later understood that "just now" meant "soon" whereas "now now" meant "immediately". It derives from the Afrikaans "net-nou" and "nou-nou".
It's usage diminished in later years but in the late 1960s, even English speaking South Africans used the archaic "bioscope" more frequently than "cinema". That was probably because "bioskoop" was still the Afrikaans word for "cinema".
"Haai", pronounced "hi", is the Afrikaans word for "shark", so it is cruel to loudly greet people while bathing in the sea.
The Afrikaans word for "giraffe" is "kameelperd". It literally transcribes as "camel horse" although "camelopard", an old word also meaning "giraffe", is said to derive from "camel leopard". The Afrikaans word for "hippopotamus" is "seekoei", meaning "sea cow". Place names with "tyger" or "tier" refer to leopards, although the modern Afrikaans is "luiperd". Similarly, place names with "wolf" or "wolwe" refer to hyenas, although the modern Afrikaans is "hiƫna".
The word "trek", often used in English to mean travel in wild areas, is derived from the Afrikaans/South African Dutch word for "pull", via the usage of travelling with oxen pulling wagons. Hence Star Trek, one of the most popular sci-fi series in history, has a title derived from Afrikaans.
While I was working as a programmer in Johannesburg, my boss and I, both born in England, were bemused when an Afrikaans colleague said of someone with bow legs that "he couldn't catch a pick between his legs". "Pardon?" my boss and I asked simultaneously. Our colleague explained that there was a game in which young farmers would try to catch picks between their legs. My boss was horrified and said that no farmer had better throw a pick at him. After much puzzlement on both sides, it turned out that the farmers' game involved catching PIGS between their legs.
In Kipling's Just So Stories there is The Elephant's Child. I suspect that the name derives from the Afrikaans custom of explaining nature lore to the uninitiated by, e.g., saying "olifant se kind" (elephant's child) when they could have simply said "olifant" (elephant). Similarly for "leeu se kind" (lion's child). They are not necessarily referring to baby animals.
Afrikaans has a considerable pedagogic advantage over English in that there are negligible exceptions when it comes to pronunciation. In 1979, while I was working in the paving industry, a very intelligent but illiterate Shangaan man asked me to teach him how to read. Typically, though illiterate, he could hardly be described as uneducated. He knew much more about European cultures than most South Africans of European descent knew about indigenous African cultures. He was also fluent in English, Afrikaans, Portuguese, Tsonga, Zulu, Xhosa, Fanagalo, Sotho and Tswana, although he could read or write in none of them. Although I am an English speaker, the idea of teaching someone English, with all of its exceptions, was daunting to me. Fanagalo and Afrikaans were the only other languages that I shared with my would-be pupil. Fanagalo was mostly used for communicating with manual workers, whereas books, magazines and newspapers were printed in Afrikaans. I discussed the matter with my pupil and he decided that he would rather learn to read Afrikaans over a short time than English over a long time. If he could read Afrikaans, he would be in a better position to learn to read other languages.
My student's rapid progress no doubt had more to do with his intelligence than my teaching ablity. Within a few days, just by taking a few minutes now and again to learn the alphabet in Afrikaans, which I drew for him in the soil, he had memorised the letters by both name and usage. I then introduced him to short words in an Afrikaans newspaper. I will always remember the look on his face when he recognised his first word. After some time, he stopped coming to work. I hope that he went on to better things.
Afrikaans has, not without justification, an association with racism and apartheid. However, I prefer to remember something I saw in 1968 when my family lived in Natal. We had no adjacent neighbours but one day, a large Zulu family in traditional dress arrived at the home of an Afrikaans family who lived nearby. I watched as they were welcomed into the house. The Afrikaans family's youngest son later explained to me that his father had befriended a Zulu man and had invited him to visit with his family. The Zulu man decided that it was an opportunity for a meeting of cultures, hence the traditional clothes. The son showed me a Zulu spear, beautifully decorated with beads (and with a safe wooden rather than metal point) that he had been brought as a gift.
I can't listen to it myself but anyone interested in South African English vocabulary and pronunciation might like
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Hr75pqA8bo
.