Affixes IV: ek-, re-, -ad-, dis-, mis-

ek- marks the moment an action begins, and usually a sudden one. vidi gives ekvidi, to catch sight of; krii gives ekkrii, to cry out; sidi gives eksidi, to sit down as opposed to being seated; iri gives ekiri, to set off. The verb ending stays put.

The nuance is that ek- is about the flash of onset, not the whole beginning stretch, so komenci still does the ordinary work of starting something you then continue. Its natural opposite is -ad-, which stretches an action out instead. Do not read every ek you meet as the prefix: ekster, ekzemplo, ekzisti and ekzameni are single roots that simply open with those two letters.

re- carries two related senses. It repeats an action, as in fari giving refari, to do again, and vidi giving revidi; and it sends the action back the way it came, as in veni giving reveni, to return, and doni giving redoni, to give back. The verb ending is untouched, and revido shows how easily the result becomes a noun.

Which of the two senses is meant comes from the verb itself, and only a movement verb can take the backwards reading. Set re- against -ad-: re- counts a second go, -ad- stretches one long one. Watch for accidents in this band of vocabulary, since regi, regno, regulo, religio, resti and rekta are all plain roots.

-ad- stretches an action out or repeats it. On a verb it stays a verb: paroli gives paroladi, to go on speaking. Far more often you meet it in -o, where it names the activity itself: parolado, a speech; kantado, singing; laborado, toil; movado, a movement.

The useful nuance is what a bare -o on a verb root would have meant instead. parolo is one utterance, parolado the whole sustained business of speaking; kanto is a song, kantado the act of singing it. Reach for -ad- only when the duration matters, or you will pad every noun for nothing. ek- is its opposite, marking the instant of onset rather than the long haul.

dis- sends the action outwards in every direction at once. doni gives disdoni, to hand round; iri gives disiri, to disperse; meti gives dismeti, to spread about; rompi gives disrompi, to smash to bits. The verb ending is left alone.

The nuance is separation with scattering in it. A thing that merely comes apart in two takes -ig- or -iĝ- on a root such as apartigi; dis- insists the pieces go different ways, which is why disrompi is shatter rather than break. It is nearly the opposite of kun-, which pulls things together, and it is genuinely rare in the first thousand words, so you will meet it mostly as a word you build yourself.

mis- says the action was done, but done wrong. kompreni gives miskompreni, to misunderstand; uzi gives misuzi, to misuse; kalkuli gives miskalkuli; fari gives misfari, to blunder. English speakers get this one free, since it behaves almost exactly like the English prefix, and the verb ending never changes.

The nuance is that mis- reports a mistake, not a moral judgement. Something clumsy or botched rather than wicked takes -aĉ-, and a plain denial takes ne, so ne kompreni is failing to understand at all while miskompreni is understanding the wrong thing. Nothing in the first thousand words uses the prefix, and mistero is a single root that has fooled many a beginner.