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Astarjian: `Bazaar' and `Kef': Is our language dead?
http://www.armenianweekly.com/2009/11/21/astarjian-%E2%80%98bazaar%E2%80%99-and-%E2%80%98kef%E2%80%99-is-our-language-dead/comment-page-1/
Sat, Nov 21 2009
By: Dr. Henry Astarjian
These are two words that make me feel like a matador looking at the
bull ready to charge: angry, determined, ready to charge. What enrages
me most is when the words are prominently displayed in front of a
church, advertising their sujukh and basterma, and competing with the
next Apostolic Armenian Church - my sujukh is better than your sujukh.
And that gives them a sense of pride, a sense of superiority,
forgetting that those two words, displayed in front of an Armenian
church, is tantamount to the official bastardization of the Armenian
language - with Turkish words - by a church or national organization.
Following the genocide, the survivors, most of them from Anatolia,
spoke Turkish, which compelled the organizations and churches to
communicate in their language. People knew some prayers in Armenian,
which they recited during mass without knowing what they meant.
Nevertheless, they recited. The political parties, to their credit,
especially offshoot organizations of the parties, launched a campaign
to promote the use of the mother tongue. In Beirut, the effort was
boosted by Nigol Aghpalian, a multi-linguist; Levon Shant, a
playwright who, amongst other plays and writings, wrote his opus
magnum Ingadz Perti Ishkhanoohin; Kaspar Ipegian with his theater; and
other linguists who, in collaboration with the Nshan Palangian Jemaran
and other Armenian schools, taught the young generation not only the
basics, but the intricacies of the Armenian lexicon and the melodious
songs of the language that governed it.
Parsekh Ganatchian, with his spiritual operetta `Nahnor' (Pilgrimage
of lovers to Saint Garabed Monastery, praying for the realization of
their dreams) and the most soothing `Koon Yeghir Balaas' (a lullaby)
harped the strings of one's heart. His interpretations of other
folklore casted a new hue on old Armenian songs.
The Turkish-speaking Armenians began to change, and were happy to
revert to their origins.
One of the vehicles of this entire literary and artistic milieu was
the Hamazkayin.
Time and place have changed all that. Today, the diaspora suffers from
poverty of thought and poverty of spirit. The custodians of our
culture, like Hamazkayin, have slipped into inaction, more like
hibernation. Despite goodwill, there is no effort on their part to
revive the comatose Armenian cultural animal.
An example comes to mind: Minas Tololyan. Originally a Bolsahay,
Tololyan, with his wife Kohaar, taught Armenian language and
literature to youth after the genocide, and authored literally
hundreds of publications and volumes on Armenian history and
literature. Though he was a giant in Armenian literature, he remains
incognito. Hamazkayin has not stood up to the standards set forth by
its founders!
Kef is a Turkish word meaning merriment (khrakhjank). For most, it is
an ID documenting their Armenianism. To go to a `Keftime,' listen to
Turkish Armenian-ized songs such as `Sharzhe, sharzhe tashkinagt' (in
Turkish, `Salla salla mendilini') and Kurdish Armenian-ized songs like
`Dehle-Yaman,' and dance to the tune of `Lorke-Lorke,' is proof of
being a good Armenian. One Armenian American told me: `Doc. I am a
good, loyal Armenian. I haven't missed a single kef since it began in
Connecticut. I love Armenian food, I love kafta and I love pea-lough.
I have many anecdotes along those lines.
What is wrong with calling a bazaar with its Armenian
equivalent - shouga? Shouga is more phonetic, and is a good way of
raising money and providing a social forum for the community to get
together. But its Turkish name is a pollutant.
The disintegration is global, which is understandable, but what is
inexcusable is the pollution that is in Armenia, where Turkish words
dominate daily conversation. Instead of calling a child, yerekha in
Armenian, for example, they call him or her chojukh, which is Turkish.
Pistachios (bistag in Armenian) are fstekh. Sekh (melon) is yemish. It
is nauseating!
It is ironic that everyone knows about the problem, but no one raises
a finger to rectify it.
In Armenia, which is supposed to be our linguistic hub, spelling and
dictation is so polluted that it needs strong detergents to clean it
up. Calls to that effect have met with - to borrow a phrase - benign
neglect. I don't even know if there is a Ministry of Education in
Armenia.
Here is another bastion of Armenian language, literature, history, and
culture: the Mkhitarists of St. Lazarous, Venice, and Vienna. This
rich fortress of Armenianism is neglected by the Armenian Apostolic
Church, the Armenian Diaspora, and Armenia itself, most probably
because they are a Catholic Armenian brotherhood. It is disintegrating
for lack of funds, its vast properties have been auctioned off through
Italian mafia scams, there are no new recruits, and the ailing Appa is
facing closure of the monastery. Is this any indication of greatness,
which our leaders keep inflating our egos with? Is this any way to
survive the rigors of this world?
Language is important in the makeup of one's ethnic identity, except
in the Jewish case, whose dominant tradition, regardless of language,
kept their nation intact for millennia. That is not the case with us;
we do not have traditions specific to our nationalism or ethnicity.
Our language is our tradition and it is now in imminent danger of
Latinization.
Yes, I am sad and angry. No I am not depressed or hopeless. I still
see the charging bull, but I am hopeful to see, one day, a banner
hanging on the wall of our institutions advertizing a Shouga and
Khrakhjank, not a Bazaar and Kef .
http://www.armenianweekly.com/2009/11/21/astarjian-%E2%80%98bazaar%E2%80%99-and-%E2%80%98kef%E2%80%99-is-our-language-dead/comment-page-1/
Sat, Nov 21 2009
By: Dr. Henry Astarjian
These are two words that make me feel like a matador looking at the
bull ready to charge: angry, determined, ready to charge. What enrages
me most is when the words are prominently displayed in front of a
church, advertising their sujukh and basterma, and competing with the
next Apostolic Armenian Church - my sujukh is better than your sujukh.
And that gives them a sense of pride, a sense of superiority,
forgetting that those two words, displayed in front of an Armenian
church, is tantamount to the official bastardization of the Armenian
language - with Turkish words - by a church or national organization.
Following the genocide, the survivors, most of them from Anatolia,
spoke Turkish, which compelled the organizations and churches to
communicate in their language. People knew some prayers in Armenian,
which they recited during mass without knowing what they meant.
Nevertheless, they recited. The political parties, to their credit,
especially offshoot organizations of the parties, launched a campaign
to promote the use of the mother tongue. In Beirut, the effort was
boosted by Nigol Aghpalian, a multi-linguist; Levon Shant, a
playwright who, amongst other plays and writings, wrote his opus
magnum Ingadz Perti Ishkhanoohin; Kaspar Ipegian with his theater; and
other linguists who, in collaboration with the Nshan Palangian Jemaran
and other Armenian schools, taught the young generation not only the
basics, but the intricacies of the Armenian lexicon and the melodious
songs of the language that governed it.
Parsekh Ganatchian, with his spiritual operetta `Nahnor' (Pilgrimage
of lovers to Saint Garabed Monastery, praying for the realization of
their dreams) and the most soothing `Koon Yeghir Balaas' (a lullaby)
harped the strings of one's heart. His interpretations of other
folklore casted a new hue on old Armenian songs.
The Turkish-speaking Armenians began to change, and were happy to
revert to their origins.
One of the vehicles of this entire literary and artistic milieu was
the Hamazkayin.
Time and place have changed all that. Today, the diaspora suffers from
poverty of thought and poverty of spirit. The custodians of our
culture, like Hamazkayin, have slipped into inaction, more like
hibernation. Despite goodwill, there is no effort on their part to
revive the comatose Armenian cultural animal.
An example comes to mind: Minas Tololyan. Originally a Bolsahay,
Tololyan, with his wife Kohaar, taught Armenian language and
literature to youth after the genocide, and authored literally
hundreds of publications and volumes on Armenian history and
literature. Though he was a giant in Armenian literature, he remains
incognito. Hamazkayin has not stood up to the standards set forth by
its founders!
Kef is a Turkish word meaning merriment (khrakhjank). For most, it is
an ID documenting their Armenianism. To go to a `Keftime,' listen to
Turkish Armenian-ized songs such as `Sharzhe, sharzhe tashkinagt' (in
Turkish, `Salla salla mendilini') and Kurdish Armenian-ized songs like
`Dehle-Yaman,' and dance to the tune of `Lorke-Lorke,' is proof of
being a good Armenian. One Armenian American told me: `Doc. I am a
good, loyal Armenian. I haven't missed a single kef since it began in
Connecticut. I love Armenian food, I love kafta and I love pea-lough.
I have many anecdotes along those lines.
What is wrong with calling a bazaar with its Armenian
equivalent - shouga? Shouga is more phonetic, and is a good way of
raising money and providing a social forum for the community to get
together. But its Turkish name is a pollutant.
The disintegration is global, which is understandable, but what is
inexcusable is the pollution that is in Armenia, where Turkish words
dominate daily conversation. Instead of calling a child, yerekha in
Armenian, for example, they call him or her chojukh, which is Turkish.
Pistachios (bistag in Armenian) are fstekh. Sekh (melon) is yemish. It
is nauseating!
It is ironic that everyone knows about the problem, but no one raises
a finger to rectify it.
In Armenia, which is supposed to be our linguistic hub, spelling and
dictation is so polluted that it needs strong detergents to clean it
up. Calls to that effect have met with - to borrow a phrase - benign
neglect. I don't even know if there is a Ministry of Education in
Armenia.
Here is another bastion of Armenian language, literature, history, and
culture: the Mkhitarists of St. Lazarous, Venice, and Vienna. This
rich fortress of Armenianism is neglected by the Armenian Apostolic
Church, the Armenian Diaspora, and Armenia itself, most probably
because they are a Catholic Armenian brotherhood. It is disintegrating
for lack of funds, its vast properties have been auctioned off through
Italian mafia scams, there are no new recruits, and the ailing Appa is
facing closure of the monastery. Is this any indication of greatness,
which our leaders keep inflating our egos with? Is this any way to
survive the rigors of this world?
Language is important in the makeup of one's ethnic identity, except
in the Jewish case, whose dominant tradition, regardless of language,
kept their nation intact for millennia. That is not the case with us;
we do not have traditions specific to our nationalism or ethnicity.
Our language is our tradition and it is now in imminent danger of
Latinization.
Yes, I am sad and angry. No I am not depressed or hopeless. I still
see the charging bull, but I am hopeful to see, one day, a banner
hanging on the wall of our institutions advertizing a Shouga and
Khrakhjank, not a Bazaar and Kef .