Iranian trees in the heart of Tel Aviv

about Farsi and Hebrew

When we lived in Tel Aviv, and my children were toddlers and babies, I had a little habit of finding time for myself. As I was walking home from the shops I would stop to sit on a bench, right on the corner of our quiet, tree-lined street. One of our neighbours called it “Esther’s Caribbean Island.” Honestly, it was better than a vacation abroad, since I didn’t need to pack, pay, travel with babies and all that. It was just me in the nice breeze, sitting under a beautiful tree, with small purple flowers that smelled like paradise.

I would sit under that izdarechet for a few minutes, then go back home to my hectic, loving family.

Izdarechet and paradise have more in common than just scent; they are both words that came from Farsi.

Hebrew has many words borrowed from Farsi, old and modern, and some of these words Hebrew shares with English and Arabic as well. One of the routes Farsi travelled into Hebrew was with the immigration of Iranian Jews to Israel throughout the 20^th century. When Israelis have a barbeque they do a mangal (מנגל); smoking a nargila (נרגילה) playing sach mat(שח מט) . Earlier still, the sages introduced many words from Farsi into Hebrew, many relating to nature and faith, such as bustan (בסתן) , for a fruit tree garden. The name of one of our most important fruits, which we use for the holiday of Sukkot, is also from Farsi: etrog. The root of the Farsi word etrog It is also the origin of the name for citrus fruits in Spanish and other languages: naranja. I know it looks very different now but if we look at how these words came to be we will see that It is very common for Hebrew to take in an A sound in a beginning of a borrowed word; it is called a prosthetic A and it helps carry the sound when the first letter has a shwa. Spanish flipped the letters and used an N. That way the origin of TARAG becomes both words.

If you like the flowers lilac or jasmine you might like to know that they came from Farsi, and for a reason. So did gourmet, which in Farsi just means “dish.” And caviar. Farsi gave our languages names for things of beauty and notability.

Since the beginning of this conflict many Israelis have been trying to highlight that this is not a conflict between Israel and Iran but with Iran’s regime; and that Israelis mean no harm to the Iranian people. But they were focusing on their Israeli perspective, leaving no room for an Iranian one.

I am a student of languages and the human heart, not politics (not big P politics that is), so I can only comment about the language that we brought from Iran, and that is a language of beauty and love. I wish to remind my fellow Israelis that our past encounters with Iranian culture (again – not a regime) were ones of shared values and respect. It is not only what we mean to convey to Iran but what we learned from it as well, that might remind us that we can be better than this.

Izdarechet simply means proud or Nobel tree. Since the time when I used to sit under that tree, my old neighbour moved to the Netherlands (his wife couldn’t take it anymore), we moved to England, and the bench was removed by the city. Just that tree still stands, smelling like a better world.