The “Apple” That Came from China . . . or India

You cannot compare apples with oranges, but of course, you can compare an orange and a նարինջ (narinch), because both refer to the juicy fruit used to make your everyday breakfast beverage and both have the same origin. And, as we will see, apples were somehow part of the origins of the English orange.

Oranges probably originated in Southeast Asia, and were already cultivated in China around 2500 B.C. However, the ultimate origin of both English orange and Armenian narinch (pronounced narinj in Classical Armenian) is India. The fruit was called naranga, which means “orange tree,” in the Vedas, the sacred books of Indian religion written in Sanskrit, although the origin of the word is unknown. It seems to come from a non-Indo-European language of the Indian peninsula, such as Telugu, Malalayam, or Tamil.

The fruit went from India to Western Asia with the Arabs as intermediaries. Along went the name: it remained as narang in Persian, turned naranj in Arabic (Arabic does not have a g), and became narinj in Kurdish and Armenian. According to German linguist Heinrich Hubschmann and his disciple Hrachia Adjarian, the Armenian word originated from Persian narang.

The fruit went to Europe through Portuguese travelers to China, and through Arabs. It received the name of “Chinese apple” in some languages: they are called sinaasappel in Dutch and appelsin in Low German, literally “China’s apple” (hence Russian апельсин apelsin “orange,” which you may hear sometimes in Eastern Armenian). Interestingly, “Chinese apple” is the name of the pomegranate in British English.

Interestingly, Spanish and Portuguese most probably adopted the word through Arabic influence in the Iberian Peninsula (Spanish naranja and Portuguese laranja), but Portugal helped spread the word to Southern Europe and the Middle East: Greek πορτοκάλι (portokáli) and Turkish portakal. Believe it or not, Arabs today call the fruit burtuqāl برتقال; the word nerinj is used for a different citric.

The name and the fruit reached England through a more indirect path. Old Italian borrowed the word from Arabic and turned it into melarancia (mela + (n)arancia “apple of orange”). The French calqued the word from the Italians and turned it into pome orenge (“apple of orange”). Finally, Old English borrowed orenge/orange from Old French, without the “apple” part. (In the end, the French dropped the word “apple” too.) And this is how English orange sounds quite close to Armenian narinch, only with the vowel o at the beginning.

There is one difference, though: orange in English means both the fruit and the tree. In Armenian, we have two different words, although close enough: narinch for the fruit and նարնջենի (narncheni) for the tree. The suffix eni is equivalent to the English “-tree,” as in khntzoreni “apple tree.”

Where Is He? Here or There?

If you were looking for someone, one answer to the question above could be: “He may be either here or there.”
As anyone knows, these two adverbs are both related to the old axiom of realtors: “Location, location, location.” This is true regardless of what language we use, English or Armenian. In both languages, they mean exactly the same:

English   Meaning              Armenian                   Meaning
here       “in this place”     այստեղ /aysdegh    ays = this, degh = place
there     “in that place”    այնտեղ /ayndegh    ayn / = that, degh = place

There is a third word, այդտեղ (aytdegh), whose closest meaning in English is “that.” English has no exact equivalent, because the Armenian word actually indicates an object or a subject located beyond the place indicated by ayndegh/that. Those who know Spanish may figure out that exact equivalent: in Spanish, it is the word aquel (այդտեղ = aquel lugar)

The three Armenian words mentioned so far are equally used in Western and Eastern Armenian. Additionally, Western Armenian has three synonymous words, which can be used alternatively: այստեղ (aysdegh) հոս (hos)
այնտեղ (ayndegh) հոն (hon)
այդտեղ (aytdegh) հոդ (hot)
(As a matter of style, the word հոդ (hot) is less used in writing nowadays.)

Thus, you have two choices to ask the question of the title in Western Armenian
«Ո՞ւր են անոնք։ Այստե՞ղ, թէ՞ այնտեղ»։ (Oor en anonk? Aysdegh, teh ayndegh?)
«Ո՞ւր են անոնք։ Հո՞ս, թէ՞ հոն» (Oor en anonk? Hos, teh hon?)
However, it is very common—and very wrong—to hear people saying, for instance:

«Ես հոնտեղ գացի» (Yes hondegh katsi)
«Ես հոստեղ եկայ» (Yes hosdegh yega)

This is wrong for a very simple reason: the words hon and hos, unlike ayt and ayn, mean “that place” and “this place.” If you added the word degh, then you would mean “that place place” and “this place place,” which sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?

As a bonus, the same applies to the word ուր (oor) “where,” which indicates “in what place.” You say «Ո՞ւր ես» (Oor es?) “Where are you,” but, obviously, you cannot say Ուրտե՞ղ ես (Oordegh es?),(*) which would be the same as saying “in what place place are you?” in English. . .

In conclusion:
Use aysdegh, ayndegh, aytdegh, whenever applicable
Use hos, hon, or, less usual, hot as synonyms;
Use oor;
Never use hosdegh, hondegh, or hotdegh;
Never use oordegh.

(*) On a side note, Eastern Armenian utilizes the word որտեղ (vordegh), as in «Որտե՞ղ ես» (Vordegh es?), where որ means “what” and not “where”

The Wandering Cat

English and Armenian share a very similar name for cats: the Armenian form is կատու (Western Armenian [W.A.] gadu [gadoo]; Eastern Armenian [E.A.], katu [katoo]). Interestingly, the former pronunciation is closer to Italian gatto and Spanish gato, while the latter mirrors English cat.

Where did the cat and its names come from? The word appears in most Indo-European languages, but also in Afro-Asiatic (Semitic and African), Turkic, and Caucasian languages. Linguists use the term “wanderword” to designate items and names that have gone together around the world and left their trace everywhere with an unclear origin.

As it happens with any other domestic animal, wildcats came first. Their origin seems to have been in Africa. Therefore, the ultimate source for English cat and other worldwide names of this feline should be in the same continent. English cat is derived from Latin cattus (“domestic cat”), indeed, but the Latin term appears to have entered the Roman Empire from North Africa, where we have words meaning “wildcat”: Late Egyptian čaute (the feminine form of čaus “jungle cat, African wildcat”), Nubian (spoken on the border of Egypt and Sudan) kadís, and Berber (spoken in Morocco) kaddîska.

However, the source of the Armenian word gadoo/katoo cannot be Latin cattus, despite the close resemblance. Why? Latin was in linguistic and political decadence by 500 A.D., after the fall of the Western Roman Empire, and, interestingly, the word կատու (gadoo) did not exist by then.

In the Golden Age of Armenian written literature (fifth century A.D.), cats were not called կատու, but կուզ (Classical/E.A. kuz, W.A. guz [gooz]).(*) This Armenian word, now out of use, came from an Iranian reconstructed form *kuz, which has survived in Kurdish kuze “cat.” That old Armenian gooz, in its turn, has survived in the name of a wild feline, the lynx: կզաքիս (gezakis).

Gadoo entered the Armenian language after the fifth century. Where did it come from? It has been suggested that the source should have been Syriac, a major literary language throughout the Middle East from the 4th to the 8th centuries, quite influential in the first centuries of Armenian literature. Armenian must have borrowed the name from qattu, the Syriac “cat,” and, afterwards, loaned it to Georgian (katuni) and other Caucasian languages.

If you were wondering about that, Armenian and English cats also share their colloquial name: puss has its counterpart in Armenian փիսիկ (pisig); compare also Romanian pisica. Probably all of them have come from the sound we make to attract these furry pets.

*) Knowledgeable people will notice that gooz is the same as the modern Armenian word for “hump,” but has nothing to do with it, except that Armenian կուզ (gooz) is a late medieval addition derived from Iranian kuz “hump.”

Show and Tell

It may sound unbelievable at first sight, but the English word show and its Armenian counterpart ցոյց (tsooyts) have the same root. Both come from the Proto-Indo-European (P.I.-E.) word *(s)ḱou-, *(s)ḱeu- (“to heed, look, feel, take note of”), and have the following evolution:

English	Armenian
P.I.E. *(s)ḱou-, *(s)ḱeu- ("to heed, look, feel, take note of")	P.I.E. *(s)ḱou-, *(s)ḱeu- ("to heed, look, feel, take note of")
Proto-Germanic *skauwōną, *skawwōną ("to look, see")	P.I.E. *(s)ḱeu-sk
Old English scēawian ("to look, look at, observe, gaze, behold, see")	ts-ooy-ts
Middle English schewen, schawen, scheawen,
King James English shew
show

Curiously enough, today the English word show (as in “I went to see a show”) cannot be translated as tsuyts; there is no exact word for that meaning. When we use the noun tsuyts, we can only mean “demonstration,” be it a proof or a protest meeting.

However, tsuyts has originated many useful compounds, such as ապացոյց (abatsooyts “evidence”), ժամանակացոյց (jamanagatsooyts “schedule”), նստացոյց (nsdatsooyts “sit-in”), ուղեցոյց (ughetsooyts “guide”), օրացոյց (oratsooyts “calendar”), ցուցակ (tsootsag “catalogue”), ցուցահանդէս (tsootsahantes “exhibition”), ցուցամատ (tsootsamad “index finger”), and others.

The reader may notice that, according to a standard rule of Armenian, all root words with uy turn it into u [oo] when adding one or more syllables to form a new word. For example: լոյս (looys “light”) – լուսաւորել (loosavorel “to illuminate”). This is why the first syllable of all words starting (but not ending) with tsooyts above has become tsoots.

This standard rule is also applied to the verb ցուցադրել (tsootsatrel), literally “to put into show,” e.g. “to exhibit.” Strangely enough, it does not seem to work for many people, old and young, who cannot pronounce or spell the verb . . . “to show.” Instead of the regular form ցուցնել (tsootsenel), we hear and, sometimes, we read time and again a “verb” that is plainly wrong: ցցնել (tsetsenel)

If you are not convinced that it is wrong, think for one second: the root of the “verb” tsetsenel, according to another standard rule (roots with oo and ee take the sound schwa when they form a new word), could only be ցուց (tsoots), a word that does not exist in Armenian, or ցից (tseets), which means “stake” (a piece of wood). What relation may exist between showing something and staking it out]

Therefore, show and tell: ցուցնել, not ցցնել.

Two Is Company

When you say, “We have company tonight,” one of the implications might be that one or more people are expected for dinner. (You’re Armenian; you can’t just serve coffee!). In this context, since you are having guests, you would express it in Armenian as «Այս գիշեր հիւր ունինք» (Ays kisher hyoor oonink). Otherwise, you would have used the word ընկերութիւն (ungerootyoon), and coined the phrase «Այս գիշեր ընկերութիւն ունինք», which sounds utterly un-Armenian.

The funny thing is that, when you use the word “company” in English in this context, you may be referring to the original meaning of the word (the actual meaning shifted over time). “Company” has been said to have its ultimate origin in the Late Latin word companio, “bread-fellow,” from companis (com “with,” panis “bread”; the Latin word entered English through Old French compainie). So, in the end, tonight’s company would necessarily mean making dinner!

Now, it is even funnier that the Armenian word ungerootyoon implies, etymologically, the exact same thing: “bread-fellowship.” Its root, the frequently-used ընկեր (unger), is actually a compound word, ընդ (unt) + կեր (ger), which etymologically means “[those] who eat together”; over time, the word * ընդկեր (untger) lost the դ (t) letter and also changed its meaning. This happened before the fifth century A.D., since the word already appeared in the Armenian translation of the Bible in its current form and meaning of “companion, friend.” (The word ընդ was a very ubiquitous term in Classical Armenian: it had more or less twenty different meanings, including “instead of,” “with, “though,” “between,” “against,” “below.” It is a cognate –has common origin—with the Greek anti “against” and the Latin ante “before,” which we use widely in everyday English.) Today, unger means a variety of things, according to its context: “companion,” “comrade,” “friend,” “partner,” “mate.” The suffix –ուհի (oohi) adds the feminine dimension to these words—for instance, ընկերուհի (ungeroohi “girlfriend”)—while the suffixes –ական (agan) and –ային (ayin) bring the adjectives “comradely” or “friendly” (ընկերական, ungeragan), as well as “social” (ընկերային, ungerayin). If you attach the suffix –ութիւն (ootyoon), you obtain the abovementioned word ընկերութիւն (ungerootyoon), which means “companionship,” “camaraderie,” “friendship,” “partnership,” but also “company” and “society.” There is a gallery of derived and compound words formed with unger at its core.

But the enigma remains: How come both the Armenian ընկեր (unger) and the English companion have the same original meaning? The possible answer is again in the Latin language. Bread was an essential staple in the diet of Roman soldiers, who apparently carried grain and made their own bread. Famous French linguist Antoine Meillet (1865-1936) suggested that companio went with Roman soldiers to Armenia, where there were Roman military permanent garrisons during some periods of the first and second centuries A.D., and became the model for the formation of our word ընկեր. If this was the case (this may have happened before the invention of Armenian writing), ger “food” never meant “bread,” but until today bread plays such a role in the Armenian diet, that it is common to hear the expression հաց ուտել (hats oodel, “to eat bread”) with the meaning “to eat food,” instead of ճաշ ուտել (jash oodel) or կերակուր ուտել (geragoor oodel).

After Means Neither Then nor the End

After work, you may perhaps pick your car, then go home to have dinner and, at the end of the day, catch a movie on TV.

If we were to ask a hundred people to translate the last sentence into Armenian,

1. They would probably agree that “the end of the day” is օրուան վերջը (orvan verche) (*), with verch meaning “end.”
2. Most of them would probably come up with the words յետոյ (hedo)—or its synonym ապա (aba), in case they were talking in a slightly fancier style—to translate “then.” However, we would find quite a few that would replace the Classical Armenian (krapar) form hedo with the more vernacular (even if also krapar-based) ետքը (yedke)(**) or use the word verch as if it were another synonym of hedo.
3. A few of them would use the word գործէն ետք (kordzen yedk) to say “after work,” with yedk as “after,” but an equal number would probably say kordzen hedo, and another equal number would say kordzen verch.

Items 2 and 3 already point to the existence of grey zones.

We know that:

1. Վերջ (verch), the same as “end,” is a noun;
2. Յետոյ (hedo), the same as “then,” is an adverb;
3. Ետք (yedk), the same as “after,” is a postposition; unlike English, Armenian has both prepositions and postpositions, namely, words placed before and after their complement.

What is the reason for these disagreements? In Classical Armenian, hedo functioned both as preposition and adverb (there was even an adverbial form յետոյ ապա, hedo aba, “after”). It was kept as an adverb in Modern Armenian, and it originated the postposition ետք/yedk (both յ-ետ-ոյ and ետ-ք come from the same root ետ, “back”).

Can we turn these grey zones into black and white ones? Yes, we can.

It is wrong to use verch instead of hedo and equally wrong to use verch or hedo instead of yedk. Here are the reasons:

1. The noun verch is only used together with a noun in genitive case of declension (սեռական հոլով, seragan holov). For instance: օրուան վերջը (orvan verche, “the end of the day”);
2. The adverb hedo is only used accompanying a verb. For example: Յետոյ՝ տուն կ՚երթաք ընթրիք ուտելու (Hedo`doon g’ertak entrik oodeloo, “Then go home to have dinner”).
3. The postposition yedk is used:

• After a noun in ablative case of declension (բացառական հոլով, patsaragan holov). For example: գործէն ետք (kordzen yedk, “after work”)
• After words that indicate time. For example: երկու ժամ ետք (yergoo jam yedk, “after two hours”).

(*) The widespread use of the declension -ուայ (-va), both in spoken and written language, is inaccurate in Western Armenian, even though it is standard in Eastern Armenian: in any circumstance, we can only say օրուան (orvan, “of the day”), տարուան (darvan “of the year”), ամառուան (amarvan “of the summer”), but not օրուայ, տարուայ or ամառուայ.
(**) In Eastern Armenian it is standard to use hedo instead of yedk, as in քնելուց յետոյ (kneloots hedo, “after sleeping”).

Odd “Armenian” Words

There are many words in our everyday usage that we assume to be Armenian, and they come down from generation to generation. This is how we find those same words used by people who have never set foot in an Armenian school and those who have finished an Armenian elementary or high school, both by people who barely speak Armenian and those who speak it as their primary language.

In the end, when people hear the actual Armenian equivalent of those same words, they are prone to complain: “You speak very pure Armenian,” “That’s a hard word,” “Nobody can understand you,” “Where do you find those words?” One may even wonder whether they show the same self-respect for the level of their English vocabulary.

Children may even become defensive and say, “I have learned this word at home,” or, if confronted with a repetitive series of common words they believe are “Armenian,” come to the bitter and self-defeating conclusion: “Have we really learned Armenian?"

Here is a randomly compiled list of frequent words that people “think” they are Armenian, only because they do not care to look for their actual origin or to make a real effort to enrich their vocabulary. The list is indeed extremely short, and does not claim to be a representative sample. But it may give an idea of where we stand.

“Armenian”	Armenian	English
զէվզէկ (zevzeg)	շատախօս (shadakhos)	charlatan
թոմաթէս (tomates)	լոլիկ (lolig)	tomato
իշտէ (ishde) (1)	ահա (aha)	there
հէչ/հիչ (hech/hich) (2)	բնաւ (pnav) / ոչինչ (vochinch)	at all, ever, anything
մահանայ (mahana)	պատրուակ (badrvag)	pretext
մաղտանոս (maghdanos)	ազատքեղ (azadkegh)	parsley
չօճուխ (chojukh)	պզտիկ (bzdig) / երեխայ (yerekha)	child
պաճանաղ (bajanagh)	քենեկալ (kenegal)	brother-in-law (*)
պայաթ (bayat)	օթեկ (oteg)	stale
պէլքի (belki)	թերեւս (terevs)	perhaps
պիլէ (bile) (3)	նոյնիսկ (nooynisg)	even
սալաթ (salat), սալաթա (salata)	աղցան (aghtsan)	salad
տահա (daha) (4)	դեռ (ter), տակաւին (dagaveen)	still
րէզիլ (rezil), քէփէզէ (kepezeh) (5)	խայտառակ (khaydarag)	shame
փաթաթէս (patates)	գետնախնձոր (kednakhntzor)	potato
փիս (pis)	գէշ (kesh), աղտոտ (aghdod)	bad / dirty
քի (ki)  (6)	թէ (te)/ որ (vor)	what / that
օրթալըխ (ortalekh) (7)	մէջտեղ (mechdegh)	middle

(1) For example: Իշտէ քեզի խելք (Ishde kezi khelk, “There you have an idea”), instead of Ահա քեզի խելք (Aha kezi khelk).

(2) For example: Հէչ չեմ գիտեր (Hech chem kider, “I don’t know at all”), instead of Բնաւ չեմ գիտեր (Pnav chem kider); Հէչ մտածե՞ր ես այդ մասին (Hech mdadzer es ayt masin?, “Have you ever thought about that?”), instead of Բնաւ մտածեր ես այդ մասին (Pnav mdadzer es ayt masin); Հէչ բան գիտե՞ս (Hech pan kides?, “Do you know anything?”).

(3) For example: Չեմ գիտեր պիլէմ (Chem kider bilem, “I don’t even know”), instead of Չեմ գիտեր նոյնիսկ (Chem kider nooynisg).

(4) For example: Ռեզիլ եղանք (Rezil yeghank, “We were ashamed”) or Քէփէզէ եղանք (Kepezeh yeghank), instead of Խայտառակ եղանք (Khaydarag yeghank).

(5) For example: Տահա չեմ գիտեր (Daha chem kider, “I still don’t know”), instead of Դեռ չեմ գիտեր (Ter chem kider) or Տակաւին չեմ գիտեր (Dagaveen chem kider):

(6) For example: Ես չեմ գիտեր քի ի՞նչ ըսեմ (Yes chem kider ki inch esem?, “I don’t even know what to say”), instead of Ես չեմ գիտեր թէ ի՞նչ ըսեմ (Yes chem kider te inch esem?); Կը խորհիմ քի... (Ge khorhim ki..., “I think that”), instead of Կը խորհիմ որ (Ge khorhim vor...).

(7) For example: Կեցեր է փողոցին օրթալըխը (Getser eh poghotsin ortalekhe), instead of Կեցեր է փողոցին մէջտեղը (Getser eh poghotsin mechdeghe)

(*) The Armenian term – which has no exact equivalent in English – refers to the relationship between the husbands of two sisters. The sister of a man’s wife is his քենի (keni), which makes the latter’s husband a kenegal.