There are certain Persian words that are crucial to have a firm grasp of in order to fully understand Iranian culture in all its glory. These are words that usually don’t have English translations, and the translations given for them in dictionaries are wildly inadequate. It’s understandable. Considering the space limitations, it’s a challenge to define words that contain a world of culture within them in one short phrase. Because you can’t simply define them. You have to feel them in the culture. So today, I’m shining the spotlight on one such Persian word, rudarvâsi, and the integral role it plays in Iranian culture. I think it’s probably safe to say that this is the second most important concept to understand after taarof. And you’ll see very soon that the two actually go hand in hand. So let’s break down rudarvâsi with some examples of what it is and how to use it when speaking.
Rudarvâsi spelling & pronunciation
First things first, though- the correct Persian spelling and verb forms.
رودربایستی / rudarbâisti is the correct spelling and pronunciation. However, because of the whole written vs spoken mess that you know and love, in spoken Persian, this word sounds more like (and is written informally as) رودرواسی / rudarvâsi. It collocates with several verbs:
رودربایستی کردن / rudarbâisti kardan (lit., to rudarbâisti)
رودربایستی داشتن / rudarbâisti dâshtan (lit., to have rudarbâisti)
تو رودربایستی گیر کردن / tu rudarbâisti gir kardan (lit., to get stuck in rudarbâisti)
Note: I’ll use the spoken form throughout the rest of this post.
What is rudarvâsi?
English translations of rudarvâsi fail at conveying the depth of its meaning because, really, it’s embedded in Iranian culture. My Aryanpur Persian-English Dictionary defines it as such:
rudarbâisti: formality, ceremony
rudarbâisti kardan/dâshtan: to be on a formal basis with someone; to observe ceremony and formality
rudarbâisti nakardan/nadâshtan [to not have rudarbâisti]: to be intimate or relaxed; to act in a leisurely or informal fashion
But of course, these meanings require a bit more explanation and even more context. If I were to explain rudarvâsi briefly, I’d say it’s an uncomfortable, reluctant feeling/acceptance of a situation with a formality you observe that involves a bit of taarof and, often, a third party. When rudarvâsi exists, there’s also this sense of concealing your true desire in order to be formal and polite (and possibly save face and avoid shame/embarrassment), much like taarof.
As a quick example to illustrate, I’ve had family members introduce me to students who were not typically the kind I take on. But because of this formality (rudarvâsi) I had toward the particular family member who introduced us, I felt obligated to keep them on as students and not turn them away. I’m not thrilled about it, but I know it would make my family member (the third party) look bad if I rejected them. So I [reluctantly] do it anyway.
What rudarvâsi looks like in Iranian culture
With that in mind, let’s look at some more concrete examples because that’s the best way to really tackle this subject. You’ll notice that it’s completely fitting that we use the verb “to get stuck in” with it.
Example 1: Imagine that someone unexpectedly drops by your house. You haven’t gone grocery shopping and have nothing to offer them. You quietly tell your son to run out and buy some fruit or sweets, but he asks why you don’t just make some tea. “Rudarvâsi dâram bâ inâ!” (I have rudarvâisi with them!), you say. You have a formal relationship with this person and feel like you have to do more for them. It would look bad and be embarrassing for you to do anything less than top-notch.
Example 2: You are going to Esfahan and staying with a friend at her house. Your friend has prepared everything for you (and only you). Suddenly you show up with your two cousins who tagged along just to say hi but have reservations to stay at a hotel. Seeing as this is Iranian culture, your friend offers (taarof) them to stay at her house and wouldn’t even hear of them going to a hotel. After some back and forth (Iranians can be freakishly insistent!), they end up staying. The friend’s mom asks why she let them stay (maybe they don’t have enough room), and the friend says, “What could I do? Tu rudarvâsi gir kardam (I got stuck in rudarvâsi!).” She doesn’t really want them there, but she taarof-ed (albeit insincerely), and now she has rudarvâsi (that kind of formalness) from you (the third party). She doesn’t want to be rude, so she reluctantly accepts their staying out of respect for you.
So you see, insincere taarof has its consequences. And that consequence is getting stuck in rudarvâsi.
Example 3: Your father-in-law’s friend, who you’ve just recently met, tells you he’s going through tough times and asks to borrow $1,000. You don’t want to give this money for any number of reasons- you don’t have it, you just met this person, etc. Maybe the friend thinks that because of your mutual connection (your father-in-law), you would be more willing to help. You get that uncomfortable, awkward feeling because you don’t want to be rude in front of your father-in-law, the third party. You’re officially stuck in rudarvâsi. Now, of course, you can say no to the friend, but because of the rudarvâsi you have with your father-in-law, you would have to back it up with a lot of apologizing and reasons why you can’t help.
Example 4: There are also times when you may verbally acknowledge this concept. Say you are baking and are short a cup of sugar. You ask your neighbor to borrow a cup until you can get to the store. Your neighbor has the sugar but also happens to need it at that moment. What comes next can go one of three ways:
1. Your neighbor gives you the sugar and is now out herself. So she asks her husband to go to the store, but he complains that it’s too cold outside and asks why you gave it in the first place if you needed it. You explain that you were stuck in rudarvâsi. (Like example 1 above.)
2. You ask your neighbor for the sugar but make it clear that she shouldn’t feel obligated to give it to you or feel bad about saying no and that you can easily get the sugar elsewhere. So you tell her, “Rudarvâsi nakonid.” (Don’t rudarvâsi [feel obligated].)
3. Your neighbor doesn’t give you the sugar, and tells you frankly, “Bi rudarvâsi (or beduneh [without] rudarvâsi) I was actually baking something and need it myself.” Even though they were upfront and honest about not being able to help you out, they still showed you respect.
Example 5: My mom and a few of her in-laws are visiting my aunt (my mom’s sister). Now if this formality of rudarvâsi existed, my aunt would go all out for the in-laws and make sure everything was perfect because she has rudarvâsi from my mom (the third party). And my mom, in turn, has rudarvâsi from her in-laws, so my aunt needs to be the perfect hostess so as not to embarrass my mom.
But if my mom were to tell her, “Don’t worry. Rudarvâsi nadârim (We don’t have rudarvâsi [with my in-laws]),” my aunt would then, of course, be a most gracious hostess, but she wouldn’t feel obligated to go that extra mile because the relationship is more informal and casual. She would feel more comfortable and not have that added pressure of really impressing her sister’s in-laws (or, worse, risk being gossiped about later by the in-laws: “We went to her sister’s house, and she…”).
Questions?
Hopefully, this little intro to rudarvâsi helped lift the fog a bit. I’ll be spotlighting other such Persian words in future posts, but in the meantime, if you have any questions about this one, ask away!