How to Get Dressed?

What do you do after you wake up? You get up and get dressed. It goes without saying: to get dressed, you put, say, a shirt and pants on.

Of course, there is a difference between “to get dressed” and “to put on.” The former refers to a general rule, without taking into consideration what kind of clothes you refer to, while the latter requires to specify what clothes you are putting on. In other words, “to get dressed” is an intransitive verb, and “to put on” is a transitive verb that needs a direct object). This is why you put a shirt (or a skirt) on.

The same happens in Armenian. The problem, in this case, is that in both cases it is the same verb with a slight variant. We have haknil (հագնիլ) and hakvil (հագուիլ). Which one is what?

To make thing easier, one should remember as a general rule that all verbs ending in –vil (ուիլ), such as lusvil (լսուիլ “to be heard”), khosvil (խօսուիլ “to be talked”), or patsvil (“to be opened”), are intransitive, and do not require a direct object. Therefore, hakvil means “to get dressed,” and Yes hakvetsa (Ես հագուեցայ) means “I got dressed.” If there is a toddler named Haig around, for instance, who needs to be dressed, you use the verb hakvetsnel (հագուեցնել) to indicate that you perform the action on him: Yes Haigu bidi hakvetsnem (Ես Հայկը պիտի հագուեցնեմ “I will get Haig dressed”). When you are finished, you simply say Haigu hakvetsav (Հայկը հագուեցաւ “Haig got dressed”).

We are left with haknil, which means “to put on.” You say Yes verargoos haknetsa (Ես վերարկուս հագնեցայ), meaning “I put my overcoat on.” This is the formal way to conjugate the verb. Besides, there is an informal way to conjugate it, Yes verargoos hakah (Ես վերարկուս հագայ), which means the same. Is the latter correct? It is actually as correct as the use of khagtsah (խաղցայ) instead of the formal form khaghatsi (խաղացի “I played”) or nusdah (նստայ) instead of the formal form nusdetsah (նստեցայ “I sat down”). You will not find it in grammar books, in the same way that you do not find... “don’t” or “won’t.”

What Is the Armenian Word for “Hotel”?

Any speaker of Western Armenian knows that the word for “hotel” is bantog (պանդոկ). However, if you visit Yerevan and you ask directions for the hotel where you are staying, they will look at you inquisitively, until you rectify yourself and say hiooranots (հիւրանոց), even if you know that hiooranots is that place in your home that you know in English as “living room.” (Western Armenian has the word hiooradoon / հիւրատուն “guesthouse”).

If you are curious enough to ask what bantog means there, they will tell you: “Tavern.” You will even find a restaurant called Bantog Yerevan (Պանդոկ Երեւան), translated into English as “Tavern Yerevan,” a few blocks away from the Marriot-Armenia hiooranots!

The standard word for a place of lodging in Armenian has been bantog since the fifth century (pronounced pandok in Classical Armenian, as it is today in Eastern Armenian). However, when you open the best dictionary of Classical Armenian, the monumental Nor Haigazian Lezvi Pararan (Նոր Հայկազեան Լեզուի Բառարան) published by three monks of the Mekhitarist Congregation in Venice (1836-1837), you find out that bantog means taberna (Latin), a word that translates into English as both “tavern” and “inn.”

Incidentally, there is a word close to bantog in Arabic, funduk (“hotel”), briefly borrowed by Armenian as pntuk (փնտուկ) before the 12th century. Since neither the origin of bantog nor of funduk can be explained through the Armenian or the Arabic languages, the natural conclusion is that there must be a common source for both. That common source is the Greek word pandokeion, which means “all-receiving” (the prefix pan “all” is the one we recognize in the word panamerican), and was borrowed by both languages without the ending –eion. A hotel or an inn is a place that may accommodate all sorts of people.

Back to the twenty-first century, the word bantog is used exclusively in Western Armenian with the meaning “hotel” and in Eastern Armenian with the meaning “tavern.” Where does hiooranots come from? Hioor (հիւր) means “guest” in Armenian (whether Western or Eastern), and hiooranots is a translation of the Russian word gostinitsa (“hotel”), where gost is the same word “guest.”

How Should Husbands Introduce Their Wives?

Husband and wives have a problem these days in the Armenian language. Two couples meet each other. The man in one couple and the woman in the other know each other, and introduce their significant others.

Wife 1: -- This is my husband, Bedros.
Husband 1: -- This is my wife, Anna

If you’re listening to this dialogue in Armenian, you will probably get the following version

- Amoosinus՝ Bedros (Ամուսինս՝ Պետրոս “My husband, Bedros”)

- Geenus՝ Anna (Կինս՝ Աննա “My wife, Anna”)

Many husbands use inaccurately deegeen (տիկին) instead of geen and say Deegeens`Anna. You do not say “This is my madam” in English when you introduce your wife. Thus, you do not say Asiga deegens eh (Ասիկա տիկինս է).

Both deegeen and madam are honorific titles and compound words. Madam comes from the French madame (ma + dame = “my lady”), while deegeen is composed by the words dee (տի) and geen (կին); dee means “great” and geen, “woman, lady.”

Remember: You use deegeen as a title in the same way that you use “Madam” or “Mrs.,” namely, to address a lady with or without mention of her name.

How Do You Say “Parsley” in Armenian?

Some words have odd origins. Such is the case of parsley, which does not look like that, but it has a Greek origin. The word was petersilie in Middle English and came from Greek petroselinon (“rock” + “parsley”) via Latin, and took its actual form due to the influence of French peresil, which had the same origin.

Now, the Armenian for parsley has a different origin. But, first, what’s this Armenian word? Most people who base their knowledge of Armenian only on what they hear and not on what they read will promptly say maghdanos (մաղտանոս).

Unfortunately for them, they are utterly wrong. However, it is instructive to see where this Greek-looking word comes from.

It appears that parsley was introduced to the Near East after the expedition of Alexander of Macedon (Alexander the Great), when the Hellenistic civilization expanded during the next centuries. The Greek word makedonesi (μακεδονήσι “Macedonian, Macedonian herb”) entered Arabic as magdunis, with the meaning “parsley.” Old Arabic medicine treatises mention magdunis rumi (“Greek parsley”). From Arabic, the word probably entered the Armenian language as maghdanos (Eastern Armenian maghadanos մաղադանոս) and Turkish as maydanoz.

However, maghdanos has only remained in Western Armenian at the oral level. In the late nineteen and early twentieth centuries, when Modern Armenian was subjected to a cleanup of foreign words, thus went out maghdanos, probably because of its resemblance to the Turkish word. It was replaced by the actual Armenian word, azadkegh (ազատքեղ), which designates the wild parsley and is the only one used in writing. It is composed by the roots azad (ազատ “free”) and kegh (քեղ “a plant”), with the meaning of plant that grows freely or wildly. Indeed, azad is the Persian old root azat that has existed in the Armenian language since the fifth century A.D. and before.

Words not only have odd origins, but have odd ways to resemble each other. The meaning of azadkegh reminds us of petroselinon, the Greek ancestor of parsley that we mentioned before. Isn’t parsley that grows among the stones a plant that grows freely?

One Piece of Nonsense . . . Sometimes

When we want to speak about a single item or creature, we say “one” in English (“I only found one”). If we want to stress its singularity, we may say “just one.”

If you go to the market and find only one melon, you may report back in Armenian that Miayn meg had sekh kuda (Միայն մէկ հատ սեխ գտայ), literally “I only found one [piece of] melon.” This is indeed accurate, as it identifies the piece (had) of the item in question.

However, people sometimes tend to turn human beings into . . . melons. How come? For instance, when they say An yergoo had zavag ooni (Ան երկու հատ զաւակ ունի), namely, “He (or she) has one [piece of] child.” If you translate the phrase from Armenian into English, you will never use “piece” of course, but you can hear literally the phrase in conversations, instead of the correct form An yergoo zavag ooni (Ան երկու զաւակ ունի).

As one American president said, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.” There is the worst case scenario, when meg had is used without thinking twice, and then, it becomes ridiculous. 

Here are some nice examples:

1. A student asks the teacher Oriort, meg had asiga patsadretsek (Օրիորդ, մէկ հատ ասիկա բացատրեցէք), which should be “Miss, please explain this” in plain English. Instead of meg had, the simple hajik (հաճիք - “please”) would do miracles here: Oriort, hajik asiga patsadretsek.
2. Someone suggests about a reader Meg had yevs togh garta krootioone (Մէկ հատ եւս թող կարդայ գրութիւնը), namely, “Let him read the write-up once again.” Of course, it should be ankam me (անգամ մը): Ankam me yevs togh garta krootioone.
3. A visitor is very unhappy with your hospitality and threatens: Meg had al tser doone bidi chkam (Մէկ հատ ալ ձեր տունը պիտի չգամ – “I won’t come to your home again”). If he does not like ankam men al (անգամ մըն ալ), he could say aylevs (այլեւս) instead of meg had al: Ankam men al/aylevs tser doone bidi chkam.

Make a reality check and ask yourself how many times you say any of these in a week. Then, see what you can do about it.

Of Masks and Mascara

Women know well the meaning of the English word mascara, which ultimately shares the same origin with mask. Admittedly, the immediate origin of mascara is Italian mascara, while mask comes from French masque. However, the French word has an Italian origin at its turn (maschera, mascara), which was borrowed from Latin masca (“witch, specter”). Somewhere in the middle, we must also count the influence of the Arabic word masxara “buffoon.”

This Arabic word has also been the source for maskhara (մասխարա), a word that some people use in colloquial Armenian, which means exactly “buffoon.” It has even originated an Arabic-Armenian hybrid: maskharayootioon /մասխարայութիւն (“buffoonery”).

Of course, these two words are not “proper” Armenian. The actual Armenian word for “buffoon” is dzaghradzoo (ծաղրածու). This is a compound word formed by dzaghr (ծաղր), the root of the verb “to mock” (dzaghrel / ծաղրել), and adzoo (ած), “the one who brings something.” Therefore, a dzaghradzoo is “the one who brings mockery.”

Here we close the circle: the word dzaghr ultimately comes from a Semitic language, probably Aramaic, where dzaghra meant “to mock.” This is the same with Arabic saxira “to mock,” which combined with the prefix ma, becomes the noun masxara.

In the end, as we see, Armenian and English share a similar, faraway origin for these words.

However, for those who are getting ready to use masks on Halloween, it is interesting to mention that the Armenian word timag (դիմակ “mask”) falls out of that circle. It was pronounced dimak (դիմակ), in Classical Armenian (derived from Iranian demak “effigy, form”) and originally meant “effigy, image, false face.” However, we only use it in Modern Armenian with the meaning of “mask.” Of course, if you go to a “masquerade ball,” that would mean that you are going to a timagahantes (դիմակահանդէս).

There Is Only One Way to Enjoy Something

The Armenian American colloquial language has a favorite expression: injoy unel (ինճոյ ընել). A sample of it may be found in the sentence Antsial Shapat orvan khnjooyku injoy uri («Շաբաթ օրուան խնճոյքը ինճոյ ըրի»).

Any reader with minimal knowledge of English will immediately recognize that injoy unel is nothing else but a homemade adaptation of the verb “to enjoy”. Thus, the sentence above may be translated as “I enjoyed the party of last Saturday.”

Isn’t there a way to say “enjoy” in Armenian? Indeed, there is: the verb vayelel (վայելել). Thus, you simply say Antsial Shapat orvan khnjooku vayeletsi.

If you need to use derivative words, you have them too: “enjoyable” – վայելուչ/vayeluch, “enjoyment” (վայելում/vayelum).

Meanwhile, it is interesting to note that there is another verb very close to vayelel, but with a different meaning: vaylel (վայլել). Of course, many people use vaylel as a synonym to vayelel, but this is wrong. The verb vaylel means “to suit”; for instance, we have Ays hakoosdu kezi chi vayler (Այս հագուստը քեզի չի վայլեր), which means “This clothing doesn’t suit you.”

Conclusion:
vayelel – “to enjoy”
vaylel – “to suit”