**Fresh watermelons and melons at a supermarket in Dubai : the moment this story began.
A Little “Linguistic Journey” I Discovered in Dubai💡
🌴A Taste of Summer in Dubai
In Dubai, warm weather lasts all year long. Even in November, supermarkets look like summer, filled with colorful fruit—especially varieties that are common in the Middle East. On this day, the watermelons looked so delicious that I picked up a big cut piece to enjoy at home with my family.
🇫🇷 The French Word I Just Can’t Remember
At home, we mostly speak French, since we’re a Japanese–French family.
But there’s one word I can never remember:
“Watermelon.”
In English, it’s easy: watermelon.
A melon full of water. Makes perfect sense.
And in German, it’s just as straightforward: Wassermelone.
We once lived in Germany before moving to Dubai, so perhaps that’s the version that stayed with me the most.
And in French, melon is melon, spelled exactly the same. But watermelon?
In French, it becomes a completely different word: pastèque😄
❓Our “Recurring Family Moment”
So once again, I asked my husband, “What was the word for watermelon again?”
My younger daughter gave me a half-exasperated look and said, “We’ve talked about this before…” 🙄
Come to think of it, even my older daughter sometimes hesitates with pastèque, but I’m definitely the one who forgets it the most. Well… I am Japanese after all 😄
📖 The Journey of Pastèque: From Arabic to French
My husband looked up the etymology, and it turns out that pastèque comes from the Arabic word batīkh. Watermelons have long been grown in the arid regions of the Middle East and North Africa, where they were valued as a refreshing source of water.
The word batīkh traveled to medieval Spain, transformed into forms like badeca, and later made its way across Mediterranean trade routes into French—eventually becoming the pastèque we know today.
Now that I know the story behind the word, maybe I’ll finally remember it.…Maybe 💦 but not sure..😅
🍁 In Québec, melon d’eau Works Just Fine
Interestingly, in Québec, the English influence is strong enough that melon d’eau, literally “water melon,” is commonly used. It’s funny how the same language can take different paths depending on where it’s spoken.
🍉 A Small Discovery About Watermelon
For me, watermelon has always been a symbol of Japanese summer. I somehow assumed it was a “Japanese fruit.” Learning that it actually traces its roots back to the Middle East felt like a delightful little discovery.
🍬 Another Word With a Similar Journey: Sugar
🇮🇳 Sugar’s Long Journey From India
There’s another food whose name has taken a remarkably similar journey: sugar.
Sugar’s origin lies in India, where the Sanskrit word śarkarā traveled to Persia and became shakar, before evolving into sukkar in Arabic.
🌍 From Sukkar to Sugar and Zucker
At first, I simply thought “Zucker (a word I learned while living in Germany 😊) sounds a lot like sukkar,”
but it turns out there’s a reason.
The Arabic sukkar spread into Europe and became:
- sucre in French
- sugar in English
- Zucker in German
It’s fascinating how familiar everyday words carry echoes of such ancient linguistic journeys.
✨What These Traveling Words Teach Us
Watermelon and sugar look nothing alike and serve completely different purposes, yet both words traveled through the Middle East before taking root in Europe. Realizing they’re “linguistic cousins” somehow made me appreciate them even more—and reminded me how connected the world really is.
A simple question led me down an unexpected path of history, language, and culture.
Food, ingredients, words—they all travel across borders, just like we do.
Truly, Sans Frontières!😊
