1. Introduction
Bilingual mixed languages, i.e., languages in which different sub-systems derive from different languages (
Thomason and Kaufman 1988, p. 12), have constituted an important research domain in contact linguistics since at least
Heine (
1969; cited in
Mous 2003). One major point of discussion revolves around what contact mechanisms lead to their formation (e.g., language shift, cf.
Matras 2000 for an overview; relexification,
Muysken 1981; lexical re-orientation,
Matras 2003 a.o.; code-switching,
Mous 2003;
Muysken 1997,
2007;
O’Shannessy 2012). Mixed languages clearly do not form a homogeneous category, neither with respect to the mechanisms leading to their emergence nor with respect to the sociolinguistic conditions in which these mechanisms operate. These discussions naturally bring along an array of terminology to refer to these systems, such as intertwined languages (
Bakker 1994), converted languages (
Bakker 2003), split languages (
Myers-Scotton 2003), as well as a debate on their proper classification (
Bakker 1994;
Thomason 1995).
Matras (
2000 et seq) defines a prototype of mixed languages, in which one language effectively provides what he refers to as ‘predicate-anchoring’ and thus constitutes the INFL(ection)-language; i.e., the language that provides verbal inflection; while the other provides ‘most unbound, potentially autonomous content words, especially nouns’ (
Matras 2003, p. 155). Concomitantly nominal morphology need not pattern with that of the INFL-language as well. The choice of the INFL-language “reflects the overall social and communicative orientation of the speaker” (
Matras 2009, p. 305). In L1-shift cases, the INFL-language is the dominant language of the community, as is by and large the case for Ma’a, Angloromani or Light Warlpiri. In situations where speakers have partial resistance to language shift, the INFL-language is set as the ancestral language, yet selective copying of elements from the new language occurs (acculturation type, Matras 2009, p. 305), as in Media Lengua or Michif.
Matras’ model attributes a strong role to speakers as sentient beings mixing languages following deliberate community decisions. Decisions often associated with such mixture include the decision for new identity-building or the aim of maintaining secrecy, especially among various itinerant populations (
Bakker 1994; but see also
Bakker 1998). One of the lesser known mixed languages that are thought to have emerged in such a context is Lomavren, the mixed language of the Lom or Bosha/Posha, who dwelled in Armenia, Georgia and the northeastern part of Asia Minor in the beginning of the 20th century (
Sargisyan 1864, p. 82; cited in
Patkanoff 1908, p. 240;
Finck 1907;
Voskanian 2011). Lomavren, which was documented mostly in the early 20th century, is a mix of Armenian grammar and a significant amount of original Indo-Aryan vocabulary along with the retention of some Indo-Aryan functional morphemes (
Voskanian 2011).
Patkanoff (
1908, p. 242) defines the then-status of Lomavren well: “The language of the Loms, which they are already forgetting, is exposed to such changes under the influence of Armenian, that, if I am not mistaken, most of their words take the grammatical forms of the Armenian language, only the roots of the words remaining”.
The commonly-held view on the emergence of Lomavren is built on the idea of language shift from some Central Indo-Aryan variet(ies) to Armenian and fixating the INFL-language as Armenian while retaining some inherited lexicon for establishing secrecy and an in-group identity (e.g.,
Patkanoff 1908, p. 244). This is definitely concomitant to changes in lifestyle and religion, for the details of which see
Patkanoff (
1908). At this point, we need to clarify that not every Posha or Lom community had the same linguistic (as well as social or religious) background in this vast region.
Patkanoff (
1908) illustrates this linguistic situation by stating that those in Artvin were ‘known to speak Turkish’ (p. 237) and those in Tokat ‘ha[d] a mixture of their own words with Turkish and Armenian’ (p. 243). It has been over a century since the last proper linguistic data were gathered from the Poshas in Asia Minor. This is no little time for a language to change, and focus on the linguistic practices of these groups is appropriate and timely. Following
Üzüm’s (
2012) pioneering work, our main objective with this study is to resume studies on the language(s) of the Poshas in Asia Minor. We initiate this by a close-investigation of the language of one particular group, the Posha of Çankırı in central Turkey. A crucial point to make clear at the outset is that this community’s members do not know the words Lom or Lomavren, and they refer to themselves and their language as
Posha. We hereafter refer to their language as PoC, standing for Posha of Çankırı.
We provide an initial documentation of PoC, putting particular emphasis on points where it diverges from its allegedly parental language Lomavren, which was recorded in the early 20th century and a form of which is still spoken in Armenia today. This sketch grammar shows that PoC is a mixed language, just like Lomavren. In PoC’s case, however, the mixing is between Lomavren, whose grammar is largely from Armenian, and Turkish. PoC now exists symbiotically (à la
Smith 1995) with Turkish, one of the source languages. While the verbal roots and verbal morphology are still recognizable as Armenian, in the nominal morphology and in the non-verbal vocabulary significant mixing occurs between Turkish and Lomavren. We further show that
not everything can be attributed to one or the other source language directly. This suggests that PoC is an autonomous, self-contained and functional system (à la
Bakker 2003), potentially independent of the rules of its respective source languages and subject to every diachronic change mechanism that a non-mixed language is subject to. We then turn our attention to the bilingual processes that contributed to the emergence of PoC. Here we show that a major contributor to the emergence of PoC is the fact that the speakers of its parent language shifted from Armenian to Turkish as the ‘new’ symbiotic language. The INFL-language of Posha, which is deemed the code that marks in-group identity and functions as a carrier of secrecy, is fixed as Lomavren, which, however, underwent minor changes; for instance, Indo-Aryan vocabulary was reduced even further. As the speakers ceased to be bilingual in Armenian, which once continuously fed into the grammar of Lomavren, and as societal bilingualism in Lomavren and Turkish increased, massive borrowing/copying (initiated as code-switching) from Turkish, the new symbiotic language, was inevitable. As a result, PoC seems to apparently combine Armenian and Turkish elements. Note, however, that the former are present only through Lomavren, the retained INFL-language.
The study is based on linguistic and ethnographic data collected in multiple fieldwork trips to Çankırı province (central Turkey) between 2010 and 2015. Linguistic data were mainly extracted from a corpus of naturalistic speech data, and were further enriched with information provided in questionnaires. Additional surveys and longitudinal observations within the community constitute sources to estimate speakers’ attitude towards PoC and its social functions with respect to the majority language, i.e., Turkish.
PoC has no standard orthography, nor has its phonology been investigated so that a principled transcription convention could be created. We, therefore, transcribe our linguistic examples only broadly, without necessarily complicating our examples. Most of the graphemes we chose for transcription are self-explanatory; we further use <ɨ> to render [ɯ], <č> for [tʃ] and <c> for [dʒ]. Vowel harmony across suffix boundaries exists but it is, at least for the time being, unpredictable and unsystematic. We nevertheless show harmonic suffixes with a capital letter. This denotes an archiphoneme whose surface value depends probably on the preceding vowel. It is only through a thorough study that we can see how vowel harmony works in PoC.
The paper is organized as follows:
Section 2 provides information on the Posha community and
Section 3 focuses on their linguistic practices. In
Section 4, we situate PoC in its historical context to distinguish it from Lomavren.
Section 5 provides the sketch grammar and
Section 6 focuses on the expression of possession and nominal compound formation, two domains where mixing certainly occurs but where it is hard to define the sources. In
Section 7, we elaborate on our opinion on the mechanisms behind its emergence.
Section 8 concludes.
2. The Poshas of Çankırı Today
The linguistic community from whom the linguistic data were collected for this study identify themselves uniformly as
Poshas. Communities that adopt the same ethnonym, i.e., ‘Posha’, are found across a large part of Asia Minor—especially in the northeast, mainly in the provinces of Artvin, Kars, Erzurum, Tokat and Erzincan, Gümüşhane (
Bozkurt 2004;
Üzüm 2012;
Anumyan 2017). While many of these communities, including the majority of the Poshas of Çankırı we have interacted with, have clearly adopted a sedentary lifestyle (see also
Arpacı 2019), there are still a few micro communities that maintain a peripatetic lifestyle, leaving their base settlements for neighboring cities in the summer months as itinerant traders. A few families among the Poshas of Çankırı too follow such a routine. That this commercial semi-nomadic lifestyle was probably once a reality for all Poshas of Çankırı can be inferred by the fact that many individuals, including those who are settled, refer to their ancestors as
göçebes, which means ‘nomads’ in Turkish:
We settled here and we condemned the language of our own nomads [i.e., our ancestors, the authors].
(field notes, 28 October 2012)
Poshas are referred by the out-group as ‘gypsies’ (Turkish ‘
çingene/cingan’), or are known with metonyms for the term ‘gypsy’, such as ‘sieve maker’ (Turkish ‘
elekçi’) or ‘peddler’ (Turkish ‘
bohçacı’) (
Üzüm 2012;
Demir and Üzüm 2014,
2018;
Öncül 2019 among many others), which are terms that they think refer to their origin or occupation. These identifications are not immediately accepted by the group members and are found offensive, which is illustrated below with a quote from one informant:
We have no affinity whatsoever to the Gypsies. They [non-Poshas, the authors] are jealous of us, hence they slander us. I don’t like this at all. They bring along a five-year-old here and tell him that it is the Gypsy market. They ostracize us but they also get what they deserve. When their kids join the army, they are asked where they are from. When they say they are from Çankırı, they are immediately labeled as sieve-makers.
The community adds up to roughly 2000 members. While sieve-making was the major occupation of the community until recently, only a few families depend on this today. Some families travel over large distances to sell almost anything they can, including fabric, carpets and rugs. A significant number of families nowadays own shops, mainly hardware or grocery stores.
The Poshas of Çankırı have largely remained under the radar in previous ethnographic studies on Posha groups in the Anatolian peninsula (e.g.,
Benninghaus 1991). We believe that one major factor contributing to this is the fact that, apart from their being a small community, they do not conform to the out-group’s typical characterization of them. They are not involved in the entertainment sector, something typically attributed to Poshas by the out-group. While this may indeed be the case for some Posha groups (
Patkanoff 1908, pp. 237, 239), Çankırı Poshas do not engage in such practices as playing music and dancing in public, nor have they been involved in other entertainment sectors such as fortune telling or keeping dancing bears.
We do not dance or play music [for a living, the authors]. Our people live on selling goods in the villages. Our people are very keen on their dignity.
Due to the fear of constant stigmatism from the out-group, the Poshas of Çankırı are often rather uneasy about revealing their in-group identities, something that also renders linguistic fieldwork difficult. When they are asked by the outsiders who they are, an oft-given answer is as follows:
We are from Çankırı. We do not have another language or religion. We all speak Turkish. We are Turks and Muslims.
(field notes, 2 December 2010)
Looking on the bright side, however, it is this stigmatism by the out-group that has enabled Poshas to conserve and transfer their cultural capital. There is a strong sense of in-group identity, which is also fostered by their religious identity: the Poshas of Çankırı are mostly adherents of Shiism, while the majority in Çankırı are identified as Sunni Muslims. Endogamy is the norm (also in the past, see
Patkanoff 1908). Furthermore, children very often travel with their fathers to sell products, and therefore continue their parents’ profession. A corollary of this is the fact that the number of people undergoing formal education beyond the government’s requirement is rather rare. While all of these create a sense of in-group identity, we should, however, note that this in-group awareness should not be characterized as favoritism. There is no doubt that some resentment exists within the community towards
Tartis or
Poos, i.e., the Sunni Turkish people of Çankırı as they are called in the language of the Poshas; however, this is never formulated as hatred or disdain.
In the rest of the paper, we will simply use Poshas to refer to the focal group in Çankırı. Needless to say, the results of this study cannot be extended to other Posha communities across the country.
3. The Current Linguistic Situation of the Poshas
The Posha community can be characterized by and large as a bilingual one in Turkish and PoC. Apart from its use as an ethnonym,
Posha is also the word they use to refer to their ancestral/home language, which we continue to refer to as PoC. They also have active command of Turkish, or
Pooca (Poo-ish), as they call it in PoC (
Üzüm and Demir 2017). The following quote by one informant summarizes this situation:
If you say twenty things in Posha, you say twenty other things in Pooca [i.e., Turkish, the authors]. You can’t always talk like this [=as a monolingual, the authors]! We could spend [the day talking in Posha, the authors], it is easy. We shout from here in the morning [to the neighbors, the authors]. We don’t shout in Turkish! We say, ‘Çile [personal name, the authors], Çile! Harɨt duni ye mi?’ (Posha: ‘Çile, Çile, is your father at home?), ‘Čile marɨt duni ye mi? (Posha: Çile, is your mother at home?), ‘Čile, hos ogo, hos ogo (Posha: ‘Çile, come here, come here’) […] One speaks their own language.
(fieldnotes, 9 March 2013)
It is however, only the elderly who often rely on PoC in intra-community interactions, whereas those in the younger generations, notably the ones below the age of 15, seem to only have some passive knowledge of it. For the elderly, as well, it is a home-language. The dramatic drop in the number of active speakers across generations stems from the continuous reduction in the functional domains of PoC by Turkish. PoC, however, still serves as a secret language in the presence of
Poos:
May God protect us from bad days; if we have a secret to tell, we do it in Posha. This language protects us.
(fieldnotes, 31 January 2013)
As is common with the other minority languages in Turkey that are not enlisted, there is no external support system to increase the vitality of PoC. More dramatically, some Poshas are either indifferent to or in support of language loss, favoring linguistic assimilation to Turkish. PoC is confined today to mundane interactions within the group, which has also created a belief in the ‘defectiveness’ of their language: PoC, according to the community, has a limited lexical repertoire, and discussion of some topics is therefore impossible in the language. Despite this, the general picture is that PoC is largely regarded to have a function of uniting those who speak and understand it in a close-knit social group with its own characteristics.
Given the fact that PoC
(1) | a. | is not fully transmitted across generations, |
| b. | is used in no other domains than mundane interaction or as a secret language, |
| c. | is uniformly considered insufficient to meet the needs of other domains, |
| d. | is not supported by the government, NGOs or other in-group bodies, and |
| e. | has not been extensively documented, save the attempt by Üzüm (2012), |
It should be classified as a severely endangered language with highly limited domains of use, according to the criteria determined by the UNESCO (
Brenzinger et al. 2003).
4. The Posha and PoC in Its Historical Setting
The term ‘Posha’ has been used for a long time to refer to a group of people who have inhabited large parts of Asia Minor, especially the historical Armenian highlands. These people have been referred to as Bosha in Armenian but the historical autonym is known to be ‘Lom’. It is speculated that the Lom people, who are also called Armenian Gypsies in the western literature (
Meillet 1921;
Voskanian 2002;
Scala 2014), migrated from northern India into eastern Asia Minor around the 11th century (
Marsh 2008;
Anumyan 2017; see
Matras 2004, p. 16, for previous possible migration waves), which was possibly followed by other waves of migration. Clearly,
Lom is an etymological cognate to
Rom and
Dom, words that designate other Indo-Aryan people of the Near East and Europe (
Matras 2004). For Matras, the different but cognate names signal the existence of “repeated westward migratory ventures by individual groups seeking employment opportunities in specialized trades” (
Matras 2004, p. 16).
According to some authors, the affinity between the
Dom,
Rom and
Lom people also means linguistic affinity between
Romani,
Domari, and
Lomavren, i.e., the language of the Loms. That all three can be attributed to a single language was claimed as early as in 1920s by
Sampson (
1927). The affinity is also judged plausible by
Matras (
2004), who claims, following
Turner (
1926), that all three might have originated in the Central group of Indo-Aryan languages (
Matras 2004, p. 46;
Voskanian 2011, p. 811).
Lomavren, which is also known as
Armenian Bosha, or
Boshayeren to Armenians (
Voskanian 2011), is thus rendered, at least originally, an Indo-Aryan language. When we look at its status since the early 20th century,
Lomavren has been defined as a mixed language, consisting of inherited Indo-Aryan vocabulary inserted into the Armenian grammar frame (for earlier characterizations, see
Paspati 1870;
Finck 1907;
Patkanoff 1908, for modern analyses see
Voskanian 2002,
2011;
Matras 2004;
Scala 2014).
Leaving aside Sargisyan’s list of eighty-nine words (
Sargisyan 1864),
Finck (
1907) presents the oldest available data on Lomavren. Finck futher claims that a massive lexical stock that is clearly of Indian origin is visible and some vestigial structures of Indo-Aryan are not completely lost (
Finck 1907, p. 49).
Patkanoff (
1908) notes that Lomavren must be an Indo-Aryan language, based on its vocabulary (
Patkanoff 1908, pp. 234–37, 245). Contrary to Patkanoff’s view,
Andrews (
1989, p. 140) thinks that gypsies living in eastern Asia Minor speak a dialect of Armenian. The disagreement about the classification of Lomavren is no more surprising than the difficulty in classifying other well-known bilingual mixed languages. In more recent literature, Lomavren is defined as a mixed language formed by Armenian grammatical structures and words of Indo-Aryan origin (
Melikian (
2002, p. 188). In a similar vein,
Seropyan (
2000, p. 23) explains the connection between Armenian and Lomavren as follows: “They usually use Armenian while speaking, but when they need to talk secretly among themselves, they use the Posha language. However, this language of Indo-European origin, which was getting poorer gradually, had to use Armenian in grammar and verb conjugation”.
Scala (
2014) compares Lomavren to Para-Romani varieties, and claims that the traditional Indo-Aryan is the lexifier code; however, unlike in Para-Romani varieties the traditional lexicon is retained massively and not through a process of selection.
Lomavren (Bosha) is claimed to be spoken in Armenia, Georgia and Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey) mostly as a secret language today (
Voskanian 2002,
2011). Poshas we contacted today, however, state that they had never heard of the words Lom or Lomavren from their ancestors. They uniformly refer to themselves and their language as
Posha. When they are asked if they are related to the Lom communities living in Armenia, they say that they do not know them. At this point, we choose to stay entirely agnostic about the ethnic origin of Poshas given their agnosticism about the term Lom. We are, however, certain that PoC and Lomavren (Bosha) have a strong historical affinity, so much so that we take PoC as a newly emerged variety of Lomavren in Çankırı.
1 Apart from the obvious similarity between the names Posha and Bosha, this conclusion is based on the plethora of lexical items common to both Lomavren (Bosha) and PoC, the obvious dominance of Armenian in the grammar of both languages and the retention of Indo-Aryan and Iranian lexica. The difference lies in the fact that PoC has further undergone massive Turkish influence, which almost entirely replaced the Indo-Aryan lexicon and also had a substantial effect on the grammar. These are obviously missing in Lomavren as it has been reported in the literature. We therefore conclude that PoC has a strong affinity to Lomavren. It is a mixed language, and the mixing has happened between Turkish and Lomavren. In what follows we offer a brief introduction to the grammar of PoC, providing an overview of its lexicon, and a few notes on its nominal and verbal morphosyntax. The information on its morphosyntax is rather brief at this point; however, it serves well to support our characterization of PoC as a Lomavren-Turkish mixed language.
6. Expression of Possession in PoC
PoC typically marks possession on the possessed noun by suffixes that agree in person and number with the possessor. This is a trait shared by both Armenian (WA) and Turkish. The set of possessive suffixes in PoC are immediately recognizable as Armenian. Compare the PoC, WA and Turkish possessive suffixes in the singular in
Table 4:
There is allomorphy of the third person possessive (-I ~ -n) in PoC, similar to the allomorphy in WA. The latter form appears on V-final roots, whereas the -I form appears exclusively on C-final ones.
The possessive suffixes follow the plural:
(15) | a. | argi-diy-it | b. | torun-diy-is |
| | tooh-pl-poss.2sg | | grandchild-pl-poss.1sg |
| | ‘your teeth’ | | ‘my grandchildren’ |
As is the case in WA, the third-person possessive morphemes are syncretic with the definiteness morphemes in both PoC and Lomavren (for the expression of definiteness in PoC, see
Section 5.2). Apparent ambiguities are resolved in PoC contextually and on the semantic properties of the noun (see
Donabedian-Demopoulos 2018, p. 18). (16a); for instance, there may be ambiguity between a reading in which two definite entities are present in the utterance context and a reading in which a third person possesses the two entities. Notice that the verb
gam (<WA
gam) can be used both as a
be-existential, and as a
have-existential with possessive suffixes on the relevant noun (see (16b) for the latter):
(16) | a. | Hem axčig-i | ga | hem dɨğa-n | ga. |
| | both daughter-def/poss.3sg | exist.3sg | and son-def/poss.3sg | exist.3sg |
| | ‘S/he has both a son and a daughter.’ |
| | ‘Both the son and the daughter are (here)’. |
| b. | Mek | tene | zavağ-ɨs | ga. |
| | one | piece | son-poss.1sg | exist.3sg |
| | ‘I have one son.’ |
Like in Turkish and in Armenian, the possessor, marked with genitive morphology, can occur with the possessed noun either for emphasis, or—for the third person—for identification. These possessors precede the possessed nouns:
(17) | a. | imin yara-s | b. | tuyɨn dun-ɨt |
| | my wound-poss.1sg | | your house-poss.2sg |
| | ‘my wound’ | | ‘your house’ |
The singular pronominal possessors marked in the genitive (hereafter possessive determiners) are given in
Table 5, along with the WA and Turkish counterparts. For each language we also provide personal pronouns in the nominative. (see
Scala 2014, p. 244;
Voskanian 2011, pp. 813–14 for an entirely different set of pronouns in Lomavren):
The following notes on
Table 5 are in order: WA possessive determiners and personal pronouns in the nominative are suppletive forms, e.g.,
jes ‘I’ vs.
im ‘my’, whereas the Turkish possessive determiners are paradigmatically built on the nominative (bare) forms by adding the genitive suffix
–(n)In, which appears as the allomorph -
im on the first-person pronoun
ben. Personal pronouns in PoC are uniformly from WA. The possessive determiners have an agglutinative structure. The first-person determiner is formed on the monomorphemic possessive determiner of WA,
im, while the second-person possessive determiner is built on the bare/nominative form of the personal pronoun (namely
tu). We could not elicit the third person determiner; speakers chose to refer to the possessor by name adding the genitive suffix, e.g., Čile-yin [Čile-
gen] ‘Čile’s’. In both cases, the same genitive suffix attaches to the root. The PoC possessive determiners bring to mind the possibility that both the strategy of forming them and the genitive morpheme are of Turkish origin. This may very well be the case, but we further note that that there is no isomorphism between the Turkish and PoC genitive morphemes: PoC does not show the allomorphy that Turkish does between first person and non-first persons, nor does the suffix undergo vowel harmony the way its Turkish counterpart does. Furthermore, the same genitive suffix appears on non-pronominal nouns in Turkish, in which case, if the word is a V-final one, a [n]-segment precedes the suffix, for instance,
keçi-nin [goat-
gen] ‘goat’s’. Recall from
Section 5.2. that in the same environment in PoC, the genitive suffix appears as
-yIn. We will elaborate on this below. To conclude here, even if one would claim that the Turkish genitive and the agglutinative morphology are the sources of the pattern in PoC, this would only be an instance of selective copying (in Johanson’s terms,
Johanson 1992 et seq).
That copying from Turkish would be selective is also evident by the fact that the genitive in the third person in PoC appears uniformly as
–(y)In on V-final roots, unlike the Turkish form -
nIn in the same context. Compare the PoC genitive form with the Turkish one in (20):
11(18) | a. | keçi-nin | [Turkish] |
| b. | keči-yin | [PoC] |
| | goat-gen | |
| | ‘(the) goat’s’ | |
The lack of initial [n] in the genitive when it is added to V-final roots may be taken as further support for the claim that the genitive is not (entirely) from Turkish. At this point, however, we should also address the question, ‘Which Turkish dialect is the source variety for the formation of PoC?’ The question becomes particularly relevant when we consider that in certain Turkish varieties the genitive appears as
–yIn when added to V-final nouns, hence with a glide instead of the nasal in initial position:
(19) | masa-yın | |
| table-gen | |
| ‘(the) table’s’ | |
| | (Turkish dialect of Kars, Susuz (Buran 1996), cf. Standard Turkish masa-nın) |
The glide-initial case form has not been reported in the literature for the Turkish spoken in Çankırı. On the other hand, it may have been the case that a Turkish variety other than that of Çankırı was the source for many features of PoC. Given that we do not know the migration history of the Posha people of Çankırı, we cannot completely rule out the possibility that the genitive has emerged from some local Turkish dialect.
On the other hand, an account that attributes the emergence of agglutinative forms purely on code-copying from Turkish may be errant, or at best incomplete. It is known that in colloquial WA the definite article frequently follows the genitive/dative given that possessors are mostly definite entities in discourse. In this case the definite article appears as
-n:
(20) | a. | Aɾam-i-n | namag-ə | |
| | Aram-gen-def | letter-def/3poss | |
| | ‘Aram’s letter’ | | |
| b. | hamalsaɾan-i-n | bamagan | ʃenkh-eɾ-ə |
| | university-gen-def | historical | building-pl-def/3poss |
| | ‘the historical buildings of the university’ | | |
| | (adapted from Donabedian-Demopoulos 2018, pp. 15–16) | |
It is possible that the genitive suffix in PoC stems from ‘the genitive + definite article’ sequence of WA. With morphological boundary erosion, the definiteness and the definiteness suffixes have been reanalyzed as one single suffix, just like the ablative case suffix (cf.
Section 5.2).
(21) | a. | WA: [[N -i] -n] |
| | -gen-def |
| b. | PoC [N -in] |
| | -gen |
Under this account, the rise of the agglutinative genitive forms is simply a simplification/optimization strategy where pronouns and nouns appear uniformly with separable affixes when the genitive is expressed on them.
12That we cannot precisely trace the PoC genitive to Turkish or to Armenian suggests that PoC is not a plain combination of Turkish and (via Lomavren) Armenian grammatical structures and elements. In other words, the whole does not directly follow from the sum of its parts. This indicates that, while some constructions or morphemes can be (surely or vaguely) traced back to Armenian or Turkish, PoC is still a complete system on its own, having its own historical trajectory and its speakers being active agents in shaping the language. To substantiate this claim further, let us look at nominal compound formation in PoC. The genitive suffix
-(y)In is employed in all types of N+N compounds excluding co-compounds (subordinative, some attributive or quotative compounds). Such compounds are right-headed and the genitive attaches to the non-head constituent:
(22) | a. | keči-yin | gat-i |
| | goat-gen | milk-def |
| | ‘the goat’s milk’ |
| b. | Salɨ-yɨn | or-ɨ |
| | Tuesday-gen | day-def |
| | ‘(on) Tuesday’ |
| c. | Va-yɨn | sabah-ɨ |
| | tomorrow-gen | morning-def |
| | ‘tomorrow morning’ |
All these examples are from the spoken corpus. We deliberately gloss the final morphemes in each example as ‘definite’ rather than possessive. The latter would definitely be illogical, at least for (22b) and possibly for (22c). In (22a), it necessarily brings definiteness to the entire concatenation. Under controlled elicitation, one further verifies this: compounds without definiteness at the end are also possible. We therefore conclude that the compound template in PoC is [N-GEN N].
The [N-GEN N] template for compound formation is not attested in Turkish. While there are a few details which need not concern us here, in Turkish nominal compounding relies on the use of a compound marker that has originated from the third person possessive and is attached to the right-hand constituent, which is the head. Compounds in (22a-b) are rendered in Turkish as follows:
(23) | a. | keči | süt-ü |
| | goat | milk-cm |
| | ‘goat’s milk’ |
| b. | Salı | gün-ü |
| | Tuesday | day-cm |
| | ‘(on) Tuesday’ | [Turkish] |
(22c) is treated as a plain attributive structure in Turkish and appears without the compound marker:
(24) | c. | yarın | sabah-(*ı) | |
| | tomorrow | morning-(*cm) | |
| | ‘tomorrow morning’ | [Turkish] |
In Armenian, while an N-GEN N structure is available, it can express only subordinative compounds (and certain attributive compounds, for EA see
Dum-Tragut 2009, pp. 83–84); thus, neither (22b) nor (22c) would appear in this structure. See the Armenian counterparts of (22) in (25):
(25) | a. | ajdz-i | gatʰ |
| | goat-gen | Milk |
| | ‘goat’s milk’ |
| b. | jerekʰʃaptʰi | oɾ-ə | |
| | Tuesday | day-def | |
| | ‘(on) Tuesday’ | |
| b. | vaʁə | aɾavodjan | |
| | tomorrow | morning | |
| | ‘tomorrow morning’ | (WA) |
Even if one would like to claim an Armenian origin for the template [N-GEN N], its productivity, unlike its Armenian counterpart, suggests that the copying is only selective. On the other hand, the template may even be a retention from an older stage of the language. In this scenario, the inherited [N-GEN N] template, in which the left-hand constituent functions morphologically as an attribute, is retained in PoC; however, as in the rest of the morphological domain, the compound marker is now of Armenian/Turkish origin. Compounding with the [N-GEN-N] structure is claimed to be a “[a] Common Romani structural resource” by
Matras (
2004, p. 77), viz. (26):
We then conclude that the source language for the compounding template cannot be straightforwardly identified. No matter what the origin, its productivity is clearly a PoC feature, which once again tells us that PoC cannot be reduced to a combination of linguistic features from two or more languages.
7. PoC as a Mixed Language
The above admittedly cursory notes on the inflection in PoC have established that PoC entertains an autonomous status as a system. This is further verified by the stance of its speakers, who distinguish it from any linguistic varieties they are aware of, and who view it as an established part of their identity. The data further revealed that PoC largely fits in the definition of mixed languages (
Thomason and Kaufman 1988, p. 12;
Matras and Bakker 2003 a.o.), i.e., languages in which lexical or grammatical material from more than one source language is combined in a systematic way, the choice being no longer subject to social or discourse facts (
O’Shannessy 2021, p. 325). It is of no doubt that PoC combines grammatical material from Lomavren and Turkish, with possible minor retentions from Indo-Aryan. It largely retains the parental Lomavren (<Armenian) verbal morphology but has gone even further than Lomavren in incorporating Armenian elements into this domain. We have seen one example of this: the PoC negation morphemes are (possibly) both from Armenian, while Lomavren retains the Indo-Aryan ones. Similarly, although Lomavren was reported to include some Indo-Aryan verb roots (
Voskanian 2002;
Scala 2014), PoC has solely Armenian verbs. In nominal morphology too Lomavren is immediately recognizable; however, here we find both sui-generis innovations, e.g., plural marking acquiring sensitivity to animacy and the elimination of the instrumental case, and innovations that have been brought in by Turkish, e.g., the dative marker (and possibly the genitive too). The non-verbal lexicon is shared between Armenian and Turkish, native Indo-Aryan words simply being vestigial. All these, we suggest, render PoC a mixed Turkish-Armenian language at face value. While claiming this, we are also aware that Armenian in this very sentence refers to the Armenian stock of grammar of Lomavren.
The emergence of PoC brings to mind the other members of its kin, namely Lomavren and many Para-Romani varieties: that it largely involves L1–L2 shift, with an attempt by the speakers to retain a secret mode of speech (
Bakker 1994; see
Matras et al. 2007 for a good elaboration). We think, however, that the shift story only marks the beginning of the emergence of PoC. Unlike Para-Romani varieties or Lomavren, PoC seems to have gained a fossilized/autonomous status at a very early stage of this shift.
First, early differences in local Lomavren varieties were already evident a century ago. Consider, in this context, Patkanoff’s reports of two Lomavren varieties. While
Patkanoff (
1908, p. 243) reported that “instead of a language, [Poshas of Tokat, the authors] ha[d] a mixture of their own words with Turkish and Armenian”, those in Shirak spoke “(if one may so express it) a stepson of the Armenian language” (
Patkanoff 1908, p. 244). It is therefore plausible that the early speakers of PoC/Lomavren in Çankırı probably shifted more to L2 Armenian, which means that it incorporated more Armenian grammatical elements than the Lomavren varieties reported in the literature. An example of this is the Armenian negation markers in PoC, which are absent in the literature on Lomavren, both the synchronic one and the diachronic one(s).
Apart from the degree of shift/ancestral language loss, the major force that distinguished PoC from the rest of the Lomavren varieties was the shift from one symbiotic language, Armenian, to another one, Turkish. The shift was inevitable due to obvious changes that happened inside the country with the establishment of the republic. The result that it bore is a Posha community whose members are all are active speakers of Turkish today; some, mostly the younger, are monolingual in Turkish and know only a limited number of vocabulary items in PoC. Crucially, however, rather than resulting in the death of their ancestral language, this shift instead created a bilingual society for which the function domains of the two languages were clearly demarcated. The Poshas, being already marginalized by the out-group, (still) possessed the need for a language that helped them maintain a close-knit community with its own set of values and a means to maintain secrecy to maximize benefit from any given situation (cf.
Bakker 1994). The medium that provided these was established by retaining (at least a substantial portion of) the parental Lomavren grammar, to which the out-group members did not have access (see also
Seropyan 2000). Notice that in this context PoC is different from many Para-Romani varieties. In Anglo-Romani, for instance, it is the grammar of L2 into which words from the ancestral language are inserted for similar purposes (cf.
Matras 2009, pp. 295–96). That PoC has the main function of group formation and more importantly of keeping things secret is also a recurring topic that the informants continuously refer to (see
Section 2 on this). The language’s function of keeping things secret naturally extends to keeping the language as a secret as well. For a very long time after the field work began, no one was willing to teach a word of PoC to the principal author. One question that she often received was as follows:
What are you going to do with our language? Did you come here to bring our houses down?
(field notes, 2 December 2010)
The attempt at retaining the ancestral language as a secret one did not yield a grammar that is identical to that of their ancestral language. Being bilingual, speakers would introduce Turkish elements when for some reason the ancestral ones (whether of Armenian or of Indo-Aryan origin) did not come to them. In other words, we claim that PoC, while started as a shift from L1 to L2, was in the end shaped by borrowing (through code-switching) from L2 to L1. That no Turkish effect is seen in the verbal morpho-syntax can be explained, in line with
Matras (
2009), if we take predication as the real symbol of the bilingual speakers’ context-bound choice of language. In the end, the outcome, i.e., the mixed language, functions as an
emotive mode of its bilingual speakers (
Matras et al. 2007), a mode of speech that signals intimate attitudes, knowledge and need, shared only by members of the community.