Questões de Inglês

[1]The small Turkish town of Kuşköy, tucked into

an isolated valley on the rainy, mountainous

Black Sea coast of Turkey, looks ........ like the

other villages in the region. Kuşköy is

[5] remarkable not for how it looks but for how it

sounds: here, the roar of the water is ........

accompanied by loud, lilting whistles – the

distinctive tones of the local language. Over

the past half-century, linguists and reporters,

[10] curious about what locals call “bird language,”

have occasionally struggled up the footpaths

and dirt roads that lead to Kuşköy. So its

thousand or so residents were not surprised

when biopsychologist Onur Güntürkün

[15] showed up and asked them to participate in a

study.

Whistled languages, although unusual,

have been ........ for centuries. Most of the

examples that have been documented arose

[20] in places where it might otherwise be hard to

communicate at a distance. All are based on

spoken languages: Kuşköy’s version adapts

standard Turkish syllables into piercing tones

that can be heard from more than half a mile

[25] away.

How does the brain handle a language that

renders words as something like music?

Although neuroscientists have long

understood that brain functions do not divide

[30] ........ between the left and right hemispheres,

the former appears to play a consistently

dominant role in our understanding of

language regardless of whether the language

is tonal or atonal, spoken or written, signed

[35] with the hands or clicked with the tongue.

The right hemisphere, meanwhile, seems to

govern our understanding of pitch, melody,

and rhythm. Güntürkün tested this cranial

division of labor with thirty-one volunteers, all

[40] fluent in both spoken and whistled Turkish, to

listen to pairs of different syllables played

simultaneously through headphones, one in

each ear. When he gave them spoken

Turkish, the participants usually understood

[45] the syllable played through the right speaker,

suggesting that the left hemisphere was

processing the sound. When he switched to

whistled Turkish, however, the participants

understood both syllables in roughly equal

[50] measure, suggesting that both hemispheres

played significant roles in the early stages of

comprehension.

Although the technique used isn’t as

precise as laboratory techniques, his results

[55] are tantalizing. “They tell us that the

organization of our brain, in terms of its

asymmetrical structure, is not as fixed as we

assume.” “The way information is given to us

appears to change the architecture of our

[60] brain in a radical way.” He now wonders

whether people whose spoken-language

comprehension is damaged by a lefthemisphere

stroke could learn to understand

a whistled dialect, much as some people with

[65] stroke-damaged speech can communicate by

singing.

The opportunity to study whistled Turkish,

however, is fading. In 1964, a stringer for

the Times reported that children in Kuşköy

[70] were learning to communicate by whistling

before they started school, and that both men

and women regularly gossiped, argued, and

even courted via whistle. Three years later, a

team of visiting linguists observed that

[75] whistling was widely used in both the village

and the surrounding countryside. But

Güntürkün found that few, if any, young

women had learned the language, and that,

although some young men were fluent

[80] whistlers, they had learned the skill as

teenagers, more out of pride than any

practical need. In a small town filled with nosy

neighbors, texting affords a level of privacy

that whistling never did.

Adapted from: NIJHUIS, M. The Whistled Language of Northern Turkey. Available at: . Accessed on August, 20th, 2015.

Observe the segments below.

I - [...] the distinctive tones of the local language (l. 07-08)

II - [...] a consistently dominant role in our understanding (l. 31-32)

III- [...] a team of visiting linguists (l. 73-74)

Select the alternative which contains, respectively, the syntactic and semantic nucleus of each segment. 

[1]The small Turkish town of Kuşköy, tucked into

an isolated valley on the rainy, mountainous

Black Sea coast of Turkey, looks ........ like the

other villages in the region. Kuşköy is

[5] remarkable not for how it looks but for how it

sounds: here, the roar of the water is ........

accompanied by loud, lilting whistles – the

distinctive tones of the local language. Over

the past half-century, linguists and reporters,

[10] curious about what locals call “bird language,”

have occasionally struggled up the footpaths

and dirt roads that lead to Kuşköy. So its

thousand or so residents were not surprised

when biopsychologist Onur Güntürkün

[15] showed up and asked them to participate in a

study.

Whistled languages, although unusual,

have been ........ for centuries. Most of the

examples that have been documented arose

[20] in places where it might otherwise be hard to

communicate at a distance. All are based on

spoken languages: Kuşköy’s version adapts

standard Turkish syllables into piercing tones

that can be heard from more than half a mile

[25] away.

How does the brain handle a language that

renders words as something like music?

Although neuroscientists have long

understood that brain functions do not divide

[30] ........ between the left and right hemispheres,

the former appears to play a consistently

dominant role in our understanding of

language regardless of whether the language

is tonal or atonal, spoken or written, signed

[35] with the hands or clicked with the tongue.

The right hemisphere, meanwhile, seems to

govern our understanding of pitch, melody,

and rhythm. Güntürkün tested this cranial

division of labor with thirty-one volunteers, all

[40] fluent in both spoken and whistled Turkish, to

listen to pairs of different syllables played

simultaneously through headphones, one in

each ear. When he gave them spoken

Turkish, the participants usually understood

[45] the syllable played through the right speaker,

suggesting that the left hemisphere was

processing the sound. When he switched to

whistled Turkish, however, the participants

understood both syllables in roughly equal

[50] measure, suggesting that both hemispheres

played significant roles in the early stages of

comprehension.

Although the technique used isn’t as

precise as laboratory techniques, his results

[55] are tantalizing. “They tell us that the

organization of our brain, in terms of its

asymmetrical structure, is not as fixed as we

assume.” “The way information is given to us

appears to change the architecture of our

[60] brain in a radical way.” He now wonders

whether people whose spoken-language

comprehension is damaged by a lefthemisphere

stroke could learn to understand

a whistled dialect, much as some people with

[65] stroke-damaged speech can communicate by

singing.

The opportunity to study whistled Turkish,

however, is fading. In 1964, a stringer for

the Times reported that children in Kuşköy

[70] were learning to communicate by whistling

before they started school, and that both men

and women regularly gossiped, argued, and

even courted via whistle. Three years later, a

team of visiting linguists observed that

[75] whistling was widely used in both the village

and the surrounding countryside. But

Güntürkün found that few, if any, young

women had learned the language, and that,

although some young men were fluent

[80] whistlers, they had learned the skill as

teenagers, more out of pride than any

practical need. In a small town filled with nosy

neighbors, texting affords a level of privacy

that whistling never did.

Adapted from: NIJHUIS, M. The Whistled Language of Northern Turkey. Available at: . Accessed on August, 20th, 2015.

The word nosy (l. 82) can be replaced, without change in meaning, by 

[1]The small Turkish town of Kuşköy, tucked into

an isolated valley on the rainy, mountainous

Black Sea coast of Turkey, looks ........ like the

other villages in the region. Kuşköy is

[5] remarkable not for how it looks but for how it

sounds: here, the roar of the water is ........

accompanied by loud, lilting whistles – the

distinctive tones of the local language. Over

the past half-century, linguists and reporters,

[10] curious about what locals call “bird language,”

have occasionally struggled up the footpaths

and dirt roads that lead to Kuşköy. So its

thousand or so residents were not surprised

when biopsychologist Onur Güntürkün

[15] showed up and asked them to participate in a

study.

Whistled languages, although unusual,

have been ........ for centuries. Most of the

examples that have been documented arose

[20] in places where it might otherwise be hard to

communicate at a distance. All are based on

spoken languages: Kuşköy’s version adapts

standard Turkish syllables into piercing tones

that can be heard from more than half a mile

[25] away.

How does the brain handle a language that

renders words as something like music?

Although neuroscientists have long

understood that brain functions do not divide

[30] ........ between the left and right hemispheres,

the former appears to play a consistently

dominant role in our understanding of

language regardless of whether the language

is tonal or atonal, spoken or written, signed

[35] with the hands or clicked with the tongue.

The right hemisphere, meanwhile, seems to

govern our understanding of pitch, melody,

and rhythm. Güntürkün tested this cranial

division of labor with thirty-one volunteers, all

[40] fluent in both spoken and whistled Turkish, to

listen to pairs of different syllables played

simultaneously through headphones, one in

each ear. When he gave them spoken

Turkish, the participants usually understood

[45] the syllable played through the right speaker,

suggesting that the left hemisphere was

processing the sound. When he switched to

whistled Turkish, however, the participants

understood both syllables in roughly equal

[50] measure, suggesting that both hemispheres

played significant roles in the early stages of

comprehension.

Although the technique used isn’t as

precise as laboratory techniques, his results

[55] are tantalizing. “They tell us that the

organization of our brain, in terms of its

asymmetrical structure, is not as fixed as we

assume.” “The way information is given to us

appears to change the architecture of our

[60] brain in a radical way.” He now wonders

whether people whose spoken-language

comprehension is damaged by a lefthemisphere

stroke could learn to understand

a whistled dialect, much as some people with

[65] stroke-damaged speech can communicate by

singing.

The opportunity to study whistled Turkish,

however, is fading. In 1964, a stringer for

the Times reported that children in Kuşköy

[70] were learning to communicate by whistling

before they started school, and that both men

and women regularly gossiped, argued, and

even courted via whistle. Three years later, a

team of visiting linguists observed that

[75] whistling was widely used in both the village

and the surrounding countryside. But

Güntürkün found that few, if any, young

women had learned the language, and that,

although some young men were fluent

[80] whistlers, they had learned the skill as

teenagers, more out of pride than any

practical need. In a small town filled with nosy

neighbors, texting affords a level of privacy

that whistling never did.

Adapted from: NIJHUIS, M. The Whistled Language of Northern Turkey. Available at: . Accessed on August, 20th, 2015.

The words handle (l. 26), roughly (l. 49) and tantalizing (l. 55) can be substituted, without change in meaning, by

[1]The small Turkish town of Kuşköy, tucked into

an isolated valley on the rainy, mountainous

Black Sea coast of Turkey, looks ........ like the

other villages in the region. Kuşköy is

[5] remarkable not for how it looks but for how it

sounds: here, the roar of the water is ........

accompanied by loud, lilting whistles – the

distinctive tones of the local language. Over

the past half-century, linguists and reporters,

[10] curious about what locals call “bird language,”

have occasionally struggled up the footpaths

and dirt roads that lead to Kuşköy. So its

thousand or so residents were not surprised

when biopsychologist Onur Güntürkün

[15] showed up and asked them to participate in a

study.

Whistled languages, although unusual,

have been ........ for centuries. Most of the

examples that have been documented arose

[20] in places where it might otherwise be hard to

communicate at a distance. All are based on

spoken languages: Kuşköy’s version adapts

standard Turkish syllables into piercing tones

that can be heard from more than half a mile

[25] away.

How does the brain handle a language that

renders words as something like music?

Although neuroscientists have long

understood that brain functions do not divide

[30] ........ between the left and right hemispheres,

the former appears to play a consistently

dominant role in our understanding of

language regardless of whether the language

is tonal or atonal, spoken or written, signed

[35] with the hands or clicked with the tongue.

The right hemisphere, meanwhile, seems to

govern our understanding of pitch, melody,

and rhythm. Güntürkün tested this cranial

division of labor with thirty-one volunteers, all

[40] fluent in both spoken and whistled Turkish, to

listen to pairs of different syllables played

simultaneously through headphones, one in

each ear. When he gave them spoken

Turkish, the participants usually understood

[45] the syllable played through the right speaker,

suggesting that the left hemisphere was

processing the sound. When he switched to

whistled Turkish, however, the participants

understood both syllables in roughly equal

[50] measure, suggesting that both hemispheres

played significant roles in the early stages of

comprehension.

Although the technique used isn’t as

precise as laboratory techniques, his results

[55] are tantalizing. “They tell us that the

organization of our brain, in terms of its

asymmetrical structure, is not as fixed as we

assume.” “The way information is given to us

appears to change the architecture of our

[60] brain in a radical way.” He now wonders

whether people whose spoken-language

comprehension is damaged by a lefthemisphere

stroke could learn to understand

a whistled dialect, much as some people with

[65] stroke-damaged speech can communicate by

singing.

The opportunity to study whistled Turkish,

however, is fading. In 1964, a stringer for

the Times reported that children in Kuşköy

[70] were learning to communicate by whistling

before they started school, and that both men

and women regularly gossiped, argued, and

even courted via whistle. Three years later, a

team of visiting linguists observed that

[75] whistling was widely used in both the village

and the surrounding countryside. But

Güntürkün found that few, if any, young

women had learned the language, and that,

although some young men were fluent

[80] whistlers, they had learned the skill as

teenagers, more out of pride than any

practical need. In a small town filled with nosy

neighbors, texting affords a level of privacy

that whistling never did.

Adapted from: NIJHUIS, M. The Whistled Language of Northern Turkey. Available at: . Accessed on August, 20th, 2015.

The word all (l. 21) refers to 

[1]The small Turkish town of Kuşköy, tucked into

an isolated valley on the rainy, mountainous

Black Sea coast of Turkey, looks ........ like the

other villages in the region. Kuşköy is

[5] remarkable not for how it looks but for how it

sounds: here, the roar of the water is ........

accompanied by loud, lilting whistles – the

distinctive tones of the local language. Over

the past half-century, linguists and reporters,

[10] curious about what locals call “bird language,”

have occasionally struggled up the footpaths

and dirt roads that lead to Kuşköy. So its

thousand or so residents were not surprised

when biopsychologist Onur Güntürkün

[15] showed up and asked them to participate in a

study.

Whistled languages, although unusual,

have been ........ for centuries. Most of the

examples that have been documented arose

[20] in places where it might otherwise be hard to

communicate at a distance. All are based on

spoken languages: Kuşköy’s version adapts

standard Turkish syllables into piercing tones

that can be heard from more than half a mile

[25] away.

How does the brain handle a language that

renders words as something like music?

Although neuroscientists have long

understood that brain functions do not divide

[30] ........ between the left and right hemispheres,

the former appears to play a consistently

dominant role in our understanding of

language regardless of whether the language

is tonal or atonal, spoken or written, signed

[35] with the hands or clicked with the tongue.

The right hemisphere, meanwhile, seems to

govern our understanding of pitch, melody,

and rhythm. Güntürkün tested this cranial

division of labor with thirty-one volunteers, all

[40] fluent in both spoken and whistled Turkish, to

listen to pairs of different syllables played

simultaneously through headphones, one in

each ear. When he gave them spoken

Turkish, the participants usually understood

[45] the syllable played through the right speaker,

suggesting that the left hemisphere was

processing the sound. When he switched to

whistled Turkish, however, the participants

understood both syllables in roughly equal

[50] measure, suggesting that both hemispheres

played significant roles in the early stages of

comprehension.

Although the technique used isn’t as

precise as laboratory techniques, his results

[55] are tantalizing. “They tell us that the

organization of our brain, in terms of its

asymmetrical structure, is not as fixed as we

assume.” “The way information is given to us

appears to change the architecture of our

[60] brain in a radical way.” He now wonders

whether people whose spoken-language

comprehension is damaged by a lefthemisphere

stroke could learn to understand

a whistled dialect, much as some people with

[65] stroke-damaged speech can communicate by

singing.

The opportunity to study whistled Turkish,

however, is fading. In 1964, a stringer for

the Times reported that children in Kuşköy

[70] were learning to communicate by whistling

before they started school, and that both men

and women regularly gossiped, argued, and

even courted via whistle. Three years later, a

team of visiting linguists observed that

[75] whistling was widely used in both the village

and the surrounding countryside. But

Güntürkün found that few, if any, young

women had learned the language, and that,

although some young men were fluent

[80] whistlers, they had learned the skill as

teenagers, more out of pride than any

practical need. In a small town filled with nosy

neighbors, texting affords a level of privacy

that whistling never did.

Adapted from: NIJHUIS, M. The Whistled Language of Northern Turkey. Available at: . Accessed on August, 20th, 2015.

Select the alternative which presents the words to which its (l. 12), former (l. 31) and its (l. 56) refer.

[1]The small Turkish town of Kuşköy, tucked into

an isolated valley on the rainy, mountainous

Black Sea coast of Turkey, looks ........ like the

other villages in the region. Kuşköy is

[5] remarkable not for how it looks but for how it

sounds: here, the roar of the water is ........

accompanied by loud, lilting whistles – the

distinctive tones of the local language. Over

the past half-century, linguists and reporters,

[10] curious about what locals call “bird language,”

have occasionally struggled up the footpaths

and dirt roads that lead to Kuşköy. So its

thousand or so residents were not surprised

when biopsychologist Onur Güntürkün

[15] showed up and asked them to participate in a

study.

Whistled languages, although unusual,

have been ........ for centuries. Most of the

examples that have been documented arose

[20] in places where it might otherwise be hard to

communicate at a distance. All are based on

spoken languages: Kuşköy’s version adapts

standard Turkish syllables into piercing tones

that can be heard from more than half a mile

[25] away.

How does the brain handle a language that

renders words as something like music?

Although neuroscientists have long

understood that brain functions do not divide

[30] ........ between the left and right hemispheres,

the former appears to play a consistently

dominant role in our understanding of

language regardless of whether the language

is tonal or atonal, spoken or written, signed

[35] with the hands or clicked with the tongue.

The right hemisphere, meanwhile, seems to

govern our understanding of pitch, melody,

and rhythm. Güntürkün tested this cranial

division of labor with thirty-one volunteers, all

[40] fluent in both spoken and whistled Turkish, to

listen to pairs of different syllables played

simultaneously through headphones, one in

each ear. When he gave them spoken

Turkish, the participants usually understood

[45] the syllable played through the right speaker,

suggesting that the left hemisphere was

processing the sound. When he switched to

whistled Turkish, however, the participants

understood both syllables in roughly equal

[50] measure, suggesting that both hemispheres

played significant roles in the early stages of

comprehension.

Although the technique used isn’t as

precise as laboratory techniques, his results

[55] are tantalizing. “They tell us that the

organization of our brain, in terms of its

asymmetrical structure, is not as fixed as we

assume.” “The way information is given to us

appears to change the architecture of our

[60] brain in a radical way.” He now wonders

whether people whose spoken-language

comprehension is damaged by a lefthemisphere

stroke could learn to understand

a whistled dialect, much as some people with

[65] stroke-damaged speech can communicate by

singing.

The opportunity to study whistled Turkish,

however, is fading. In 1964, a stringer for

the Times reported that children in Kuşköy

[70] were learning to communicate by whistling

before they started school, and that both men

and women regularly gossiped, argued, and

even courted via whistle. Three years later, a

team of visiting linguists observed that

[75] whistling was widely used in both the village

and the surrounding countryside. But

Güntürkün found that few, if any, young

women had learned the language, and that,

although some young men were fluent

[80] whistlers, they had learned the skill as

teenagers, more out of pride than any

practical need. In a small town filled with nosy

neighbors, texting affords a level of privacy

that whistling never did.

Adapted from: NIJHUIS, M. The Whistled Language of Northern Turkey. Available at: . Accessed on August, 20th, 2015.

Select the alternative which presents the word and its respective synonym in the text.