Unbreakable as a Diamond

Diamond is another of those words that English and Armenian languages share due to some common source. More than two thousand years ago, the Latin word adamantem meant “the hardest metal,” and then it was used to mean our well-known diamond.  Then Old French borrowed from Medieval Latin (diamantem) and turned it into diamant. In the early fourteenth century, the word entered English as diamond.

Actually, the Romans had borrowed the word from Greek: ἀδάμας (adámas "unbreakable," with ἀ meaning “un” and δάμας “conquer, overpower”). The Armenians did the same: the word ադամանդ (adamand; Western Armenian atamant) already appeared in the Bible with the meaning of the precious stone.

Incidentally, the format of the Armenian word is very close to English adamant, whose meaning comes directly from the Greek meaning “unbreakable,” via Latin and French. While the English language created two words from the same original source, the Armenian language simply used atamant and, at times, gave it a metaphoric meaning. For instance, St. Gregory of Narek used the expressions atamantea sird (ադամանդեայ սիրտ “diamond heart”) or atamantea havadk (ադամանդեայ հաւատք “diamond faith”) to mean that the heart or the faith can be as unbreakable as a diamond.

There Are Many Ways to “Kick the Bucket”

If you open a thesaurus of the English language (or the thesaurus of your computer) you will find more than a dozen ways to say “to die,” including the slang expression of the title. Every language has its own variety and Armenian is not an exception.

However, the abundance of synonyms does not mean that you can use them interchangeably. The same is true in Armenian. There are different ways for various circumstances and subjects.

The Armenian word for death is mah (մահ). However, the verb mahanal (մահանալ) does not exactly mean “to die,” but includes the concept of slowness. Therefore, we use it to refer to the gradual death of any social phenomenon, like a tribe, a dialect, or a custom.

If you want to refer to the death of a common mortal, you simply say: “Martu merav” (Մարդը մեռաւ, “The man died”). However, if that common mortal gave up his or her life on a battlefield, e.g. sacrificed it, you say “Zinvoru zohvetsav” (Զինուորը զոհուեցաւ) and not “Zinvore merav.”

Now, if a priest (or any other ecclesiastic) passes away, we have a more nuanced and particular way to say it, which has no exact equivalent in English: “Kahanan vakhjanetsav” (Քահանան վախճանեցաւ). The verb vakhjanil comes from vakhjan (վախճան “end”), and thus, an approximate translation would be something like “the priest met his end.” It is not polite to say “Kahanan merav.”

There is also a particular way for an animal, whether it is a pet or a wild beast: “Gadoon sadgetsav” (Կատուն սատկեցաւ). The verb sadgil comes from sadag, which denotes the dead body of an animal. Your beloved pet may have been as human-like as you want, but in the same way you do not say “The cat passed away,” you should not say “Gadoon merav.”

Of course, if you hold a grudge with someone, you can say sadgetsav instead of merav to express your dismissal. However, it is hard to think that you interacted with a person who was at the level of your furry friend. When you dehumanize someone, doesn’t it say something about your own humanity?

Two Other Ways to Say “New Year” in Armenian

1. Amanor

As anyone knows, “new year” is nor dari (նոր տարի) in Armenian, and of course, New Year = Nor Dari (Նոր Տարի). But, unlike English, the Armenian language has a second, much older and “fancy” way to name the first day of the forthcoming year as Amanor (Ամանոր).

Someone may suppose that this word is related to aman (աման) “vessel” and nor (նոր) “new,” and that it designated a custom of replacing the old china on New Year. Besides the fact that such a pricey custom did not exist among Armenians, this would go against language rules. In that case, the word would be amananor or amannor, which has never existed.

They would be partly right, however: the second part of Amanor is nor “new.” 

What about the first? This is the Classical Armenian (Krapar) word am (ամ “year”), derived from the Proto-Indo-European word *sama. The word am does not exist alone in Modern Armenian, but it appears in compound words. Besides Amanor, how do you say, for instance, “decade” in Armenian? Dasn-am-eag (տասն-ամ-եակ). What about “biennial” or “that happens every two years”? Yerg-am-ea (երկամեայ).

In the same way that Latin annus lives in English annual, Krapar am lives in Modern Armenian amenamea (ամենամեայ). Don’t put aside Latin and Krapar!

2. Gaghant

Did you know that Armenian Gaghant (Կաղանդ) and the English word calendar are related? 

English calendar comes from Old French, and then from Latin calendarium (“account book”), which has its origin in calendae (“the first day of the month”).

This Latin word was also the source for the Greek word khalándai, which actually took a different meaning, “new year.” The word and the meaning went into Classical Armenian as gaghant(kaghant, in Classical Armenian pronunciation). Most interestingly, the word was only inherited by Western Armenian. 

The familiar figure of Gaghant Baba (Կաղանդ Պապա), incidentally, is only known to Western Armenians too; Eastern Armenians know him as Tsemer Babig (Ձմեռ Պապիկ, “Grandfather Winter”). Gaghant Baba appears to be the Armenian version of French Père Noël ("Father Christmas"), but unlike his French colleague, the name is unrelated to Christmas, because it means “Father New Year.” Since Père Noël and Santa Claus bring presents on Christmas, perhaps this is why many people mistakenly think that Gaghant is a synonym of Dzenunt(Ծնունդ, “Christmas”), which is a mistake. Gaghant Baba has a different timing: he actually comes to Armenian children in the wee hours of New Year. By the way, if people tell you that they are coming for a visit on Gaghant, be aware: this means January 1.

New Armenian Words Not in Your Dictionary

1) PasswordAny person with some reasonable knowledge of the Armenian language may invent a word, especially compound words. The old “watchword,” related to military issues, has found its equivalent in the twenty-first century as “password.” How should we say it in Armenian?If you get into the business of literal translation, you may put together ants-nil (անցնիլ) “to pass” and par (բառ) “word” to obtain antsapar “password.” However, there is not always the need to translate literally. A password is a secret (encrypted) word or text used to “pass” the obstacle; for instance, to enter a computer. People came up with a better solution that has become most used: kaghdnapar (գաղտնաբառ). This word combines kaghdni (գաղտնի “secret”) and par, the same as we have kaghdnakir (գաղտնագիր) to say...  “cryptogram.”

2) Upload and downloadAnyone may get a load of something or, otherwise, load something (for instance, on a vehicle). The Armenian word for “load” is perr (բեռ) and the verb, perrtsnel (բեռցնել). How do you deal with “upload” and “download” in Armenian?

You may hear, here and there, partzratsnel (բարձրացնել) and ichetsnel (իջեցնել). However, these words are standard Armenian for “to raise” and “to lower.” They give the “up” and “down” idea of the English term, but not the concept of “loading.” Since “to load” has a clear meaning of putting up something, but not putting down, you cannot use perrtsnel either.

Someone went to the roots and found the solution: to turn perr (“load”) into a new verb, perrnel, to give the idea of putting up something. The new verb perrnel (բեռնել) became the Armenian word for “upload,” and, combined with the prefix ner (ներ), which means “under, intro, down,” helped create the Armenian word for “download”: nerpernel (ներբեռնել).

3) AudiobookThe world of books has gone through unprecedented transformation in the past ten years. Readers of paper books are now sharing their world with other media, like e-books and audiobooks.

We do not have many audiobooks in Armenian yet, but what do we call the ones we have?The problem is with “audio.” As the reader knows, the word is related to hearing. The immediate answer would be something related to lsel (լսել “to hear”). Since we have lsaran (լսարան “audience”), Why not lsakirk (լսագիրք), with l(i)s “audio” and kirk “book”?

Again, it is a matter of being creative. More than hearing, an audiobook is about the voice (tzayn) as the means to transmit the information. Doesn’t tzaynakirk (ձայնագիրք) sound better? We already have tzaynakrutiun (ձայնագրութիւն) for “audio recording.” Let’s continue the word family.

Tricky Verbs and a Little Headache

We have frequently compared the Armenian and English languages in this column to look for similar features. This time, we will look for a dissimilar feature. English verbs do not have endings in their infinitive forms: “to run,” “to think,” “to go.” This is not the case in other languages, such as Latin languages (Spanish, French, or Italian, among others) or Armenian, where those verbs are vazel (վազել), khorhil (խորհիլ), yertal (երթալ). Modern Armenian has three infinitive endings (el, il, al).(*) In those three examples there is a root and an ending: vaz-el, khorh-il, yert-al. Sometimes, the roots have a certain meaning by themselves, which makes it easier to understand the meaning. For instance, the root yert (երթ) is a noun that indicates movement and means “march.” Some verbs create a problem when we go from colloquial to written language. People tend to use different endings in their speech, which actually are the wrong ones. These troublesome verbs belong to the endings el and il, which are used as if they ended in al. The problem is compounded when those wrong colloquial forms become wrong written forms. Many readers will probably recognize themselves in one or other of the following verbs, which are frequently misspoken and then miswritten. Rest assured that you will not lose anything by learning the accurate way to use them.

RIGHT Meaning WRONG RIGHT EXAMPLE Meaning WRONG EXAMPLE  kdnel(գտնել) to find kdnal (գտնալ) Yes ge kdnem (Ես կը գտնեմ) I find Yes ge kdnam (Ես կը գտնամ) yellel (ելլել) to come out yellal (ելլալ) Tun g’elles (Դուն կ՚ելլես) You  come out Tun g’ellas (Դուն կ՚ելլաս) ichnel(իջնել) to go down ichnal (իջնալ) An g’ichne (Ան կ՚իջնէ) He/she  goes down An g’ichna (Ան կ՚իջնայ) mdnel(մտնել) to enter mdnal (մտնալ) Menk ge mdnenk (Մենք կը մտնենք) We enter Menk ge mdnank (Մենք կը մտնանք) desnel(տեսնել) to see desnal (տեսնալ) Tuk ge desnek (Դուք կը տեսնէք) You see Tuk ge desnak (Դուք կը տեսնաք) hedznel(հեծնել) to mount hedznal(հեծնալ) Anonk ge hedznen (Անոնք կը հեծնեն)  They mount Anonk ge hedznan (Անոնք կը հեծնան) yerevil(երեւիլ) to appear yereval (երեւալ) Yes g’erevim (Ես կ՚երեւիմ) I appear Yes g’erevam (Ես կ՚երեւամ)  tvil (թուիլ) to appear tval (թուալ) Tun ge tvis (Դուն կը թուիս) You seem Tun ge tvas (Դուն կը թուաս) jbdil(ժպտիլ) to smile jbdal (ժպտալ) An ge jbdi (Ան կը ժպտի) He/she smiles Ան ge jbda (Ան կը ժպտայ)

(*) There is a fourth ending ul that is used in extremely few cases.

Three Words of the Twenty-First Century

It is very difficult to keep pace with the novelties of language, especially these days. Most current English-Armenian dictionaries do not help us in our search for the Armenian equivalents of very new words. Sometimes the Internet may give you a clue, but it can also mislead you, if you lack enough criteria to decide whether this or that translation is the real thing.

Say, Internet. If you think by logic, you would say that the Armenian equivalent might be michtsants (միջցանց), with mich “inter” and tsants “net.” In the 90s, when the Internet explosion started worldwide, some people used this translation in the Armenian press. However, neologisms (newly invented words) have a life of their own; some people like them, while others do not. For a few years, different words were used, until hamatsants (համացանց) came out in the prestigious daily Haratch of Paris around 1996 or 1997, and it picked traction. It was not a literal translation, but was easier to pronounce than michtsants and gave the idea of a worldwide tool. It literally means “all-net” or “netwide”: hama “all,” as in hamamerigian (համամերիկեան “all-American”), and tsants “net.”

Another similar example is online. The literal translation would be something like verakidz (վերագիծ), with ver “on” and kidz “line.” However, it was never ever attempted. One day, in the early 2000s, the Armenian translation appeared in Eastern Armenian websites and became most common: artsants (առցանց). It means “at” (ar, a prefix that has many different meanings) the “net” (tsants). Again, it was not grounded in a literal translation, but followed the logic of the language: to be online is to be on (“at”) the Net, right?

Since we mentioned it above, the final word should be website. It is another term that had many different attempts at translation in the 90s, until the best translation appeared again in the daily Haratch of Paris in 1998: gaykech (կայքէջ). It was formed by the combination of gayk (“place, site”) and ech (“page”), and expressed very well a solution of its own. Sometimes it is even used in the shortened form gayk (կայք), but of course you need to have the context to realize that you are talking about a website and not any other kind of site.

Money, Money, Money...

Before the European Union officially introduced the euro as currency in 1999 and Greece adopted it in 2001-2002, it had its own currency, called drachma, with a very long history. It had been used by many Greek city-states between the second and the first millennium B.C., including the Classical period; then it was used in the Hellenistic period and finally under Roman domination. Greece obtained its independence in 1830 from the Ottoman Empire, and two years later, the drachma was restored as the official currency.

The drachma was also a weight unit, first equivalent to 66.5 grains, and then approximately to one gram. It is likely that this quantity was first used as monetary unit before metals were adopted; the word δραχμή (drakhmḗ) was derived from δράσσομαι (drássomai, “to grasp, seize”) and originally may have meant “fistful.”

The Greek word was loaned by the Iranian languages, and thus we have words like Persiandiram, Pahlavi dram (“a small weight; money”) , and Kurdish diraw (“money”). On its way, it lost the middle sound kh (an aspirated h) and the final e. And yes, we also have Armenian դրամ (Classical/Eastern Armenian dram; Western Armenian tram), which most probably came from Middle Persian or, otherwise, had a similar bumpy road of lost sounds from Greek drakhmḗ. In any case, the word was already mentioned in the Armenian translation of the Bible (before the first half of the fifth century A.D.).

The word dram was already used as a monetary unit during the time of the Armenian kingdom of Cilicia, particularly in the 13th and 14th centuries, and the second republic of Armenia adopted the dram as the name of its own currency in November 1993.

However, you should not be confused in the streets of Yerevan: although Modern Armenian uses the word dram in both Western and Eastern Armenian, for instance for the word tghtatram(թղթադրամ “banknote”), in Eastern Armenian the word pogh (փող) is used in colloquial language with the meaning of “money.” This word, which was also utilized in Cilician times as a monetary unit, comes from Persian pul (“small coin”).