I’VE BEEN ENJOYING the discussion in PNG Attitude about the literary merits of Pidgin English. I think Tok Pisin can be a remarkably expressive language. But then what language isn’t?
With Tok Pisin, because of the challenge of not having a full complement of vocabulary for many words in English, there is a need to be much more descriptive.
For example, big, large, huge, enormous, gigantic, great, tremendous, etcetera are all represented by either bikpela or traipela in Tok Pisin.
Whereas, in the foregoing English sequence, from big to great to tremendous, the meaning and intention of the adjectives change.
The subtle but real differences in word meaning are what make English such a versatile language.
In Tok Pisin there is no word for versatile, only phrases like gutpela long olgeta wok. But this need not be a hindrance provided the writer uses some creativity, mainly through comparative statements.
For example, graun bilong mi em traipela na traipela tru, abrusim mak bilong solwara, or pik bilong yu bai kamap bikpela moa moa yet olsem bebi kau.
Many English words are being rewritten in their Tok Pisin equivalents, for example komuniti, kapten, kongregesen. There’s nothing wrong with that.
Nowadays we continue to bastardise both English and Tok Pisin in our search for more words to fit into our modern Tok Pisin.
For example, fatpela is used to describe width as opposed to longpela for length. Or smartpela to describe intelligence or qualify the best.
This is a common phenomenon worldwide. Creole languages are a natural development of the human need to communicate irrespective of one’s mother tongue. In Singapore there is Singlish. In China there is Chinglish. Pinglish is mixed English and Persian language.
It is arguable whether 'native' Tok Pisin speakers, i.e., those who may only think and speak in Tok Pisin, would be better at expressing ideas in Tok Pisin than those who have a dual Tok Pisin-English understanding. I believe both groups have something to offer.
Street slang Tok Pisin has many new expressions added to it regularly, e.g., Yu kam gud meaning you’ve done well, nating tru meaning effortlessly or too easy, kisim wara meaning to get drunk on alcohol or naispela ya, nogat mosong blong em*, etcetera.
And it’s interesting that rural Tok Pisin has nuances tied more closely to the cultural atmosphere.
In a village in Madang, the people responded by nodding and saying ‘yes, yes, em i tok tru, gutpela tru, bai yumi tingting gut long mekim olsem yu tok’. But this response was not being affirmative.
Rather they were playing for time, ‘egging me on’ to talk more and reveal more information and more importantly, to give time to the kukurai to get to the meeting so that he would give them the final decision.
On the other hand, in Lae or Port Moresby, such a group response would have been taken as an affirmation of intended action.
Tok Pisin works well in shared contexts, but can be difficult when expressing concepts because it is difficult to be precise and concise. But this kind of ambiguity is a useful trait in poetry and metaphors are very common in Tok Pisin.
The most important point about using Tok Pisin is that it is uniquely Melanesian. We have our own way of expression and that should be conveyed to other people too. Tok Pisin is the language expression of our lifestyle and our intermingled cultures.
I think that, for a poet, as I am, language is a tool. My instinct for creative writing is to use what works best for the piece and that might mean whatever is on hand at the time.
So if the slot fits and it’s the only tool you’ve got, it’s okay to use a flat-head screw driver for a Phillips head screw.
I believe that’s what Geoffrey Chaucer (poet and ‘father of English literature’) was doing in 14th century England.
Here is a poem that was inspired by a friend who one evening, in his own language, told me an old saying about the moon’s corona. Roughly translated the saying goes, ‘tonight the moon carries her umbrella’.
Recently, with a colleague at the University of Adelaide, I re-created that phrase in a poem translated from Bahasa Indonesia.
Tonight the moon carries her umbrella
Dia beranjak kesiangan hari ini
Dan malam inii dia membawa payungnya
Hamparan kabut terpapar di balik kilauan sarung kebayanya
Saat dia berjalan melintasi duniaku
Jauh dan semakin jauh dia melangkah
Sendiri, dimana tanganku tak bisa menggapai untuk memeluknya.
She rises late in the afternoon
And tonight she carries her umbrella
Smoky tendrils trail behind her glittering sarung kobaya
As she strolls across my universe
Far, far away she walks, alone
Where my arms cannot reach to embrace her.
* Literally ‘Hey nice, not itchy’; metaphorically, smooth, fresh, young and untouched - often used with a sexual connotation, but appreciative rather than physical. And you didn’t think Tok Pisin was a complex and nuanced language….
Michael Dom, an agricultural scientist, is undertaking post-graduate studies at the University of Adelaide
Yep, 'memero', with the emphasis on the second 'e' is Motu for 'boys'. 'Mero = boy. "Kekeni' is the lovely word for girl, again with the emphasis on the second 'e'.
Posted by: Phil Fitzpatrick | 13 April 2013 at 10:08 AM
It's a funny thing - this transposition of vowels.
My mum-in-law (well the first one from Latvia) used to talk about "wegetables"; and Dickens' version of Cockney uses "wery wery"; and Rose says "Mi vanim..."
God bless languages!
Posted by: Peter Kranz | 13 April 2013 at 07:41 AM
Michael - Got it. It's "Wanem ia". The W pronounced as V had me confused.
Posted by: Peter Kranz | 13 April 2013 at 07:26 AM
Peter, I'm afraid you've lost me; 'vanimear' - in what context is it used?
By your expression it sounds as if you ask about the phrase,'Wanem ia?' which means, 'what is it?'.
Posted by: Michael Dom | 12 April 2013 at 10:02 PM
So what does "vanimear" mean? (Spelling probably wrong.)
Closest I can get is "what is it?" or "you know what I mean". Like saying "whatever".
It is a term liberally sprinkled around. Does it just mean "I don't know?"
Posted by: Peter Kranz | 12 April 2013 at 09:30 PM
Does anyone know if this book is any good?
Pidgin: Lonely Planet Phrasebook [Paperback] by Trevor Balzer.
And anyone know about the author?
Posted by: Michael Dom | 23 March 2013 at 06:37 PM
Keith some corrections to the poem in Bahasa Indonesia.
“Tonight the moon carries her umbrella”
Dia beranjak kesiangan hari ini
Dan malam inii dia membawa payungnya
Hamparan kabut terpapar di balik kilauan sarung kebayanya
Saat dia berjalan melintasi duniaku
Jauh dan semakin jauh dia melangkah
Sendiri, dimana tanganku tak bisa menggapai untuk memeluknya.
__________
Also corrected on the original, Michael - KJ
Posted by: Michael Dom | 23 March 2013 at 06:28 PM
Bernard Yegiora has made this comment to me:
“Michael, we can say new and unique in the sense that the PNG experience is very different to other settings.
For example, the type of slang in Pidgin or English that is used to describe people from a particular group is different.
"You have 'Mangi Mosbi' (PNG) versus 'City slicker' (Western). Different words and language but the idea is the same like you said.
"So in this context 'Mangi Mosbi' is new and unique.”
My response here:
Thanks Bernard, I submit that while the causative factors or socio-economic processes which drive deculturalisation, cultural dilution or eventual loss of culture are similar across all countries, e.g. rural-urban drift, education and dominating cultural influences, the outcomes produced from nation to nation are different.
So, yes, PNG will have a new and unique experience.
I agree with you that Mangi Mosbi or Meri Mosbi is good colloquialism.
I often like to use ‘Mosbi mero’, to emphasise my own affiliation to Papua, where I was born and raised.
I’ve used ‘Mosbi memero’ in haiku, which I think refers to ‘young boys’. Phil, anyone, should I be corrected on this?
There is great room for use of colloquial terms in poetry and short-stories. I really enjoyed LFR’s poems where he integrated his vernacular language.
And I’m still looking forward to reading those works which integrate vernacular and English because I believe there’s something special generated in the blending that would be spectacular Papua New Guinean literature.
On the other hand, in our discussion we should bear in mind that literature is a broad and sweeping term, where we may be referring to a language of literature in the arts, as opposed to science, law or education.
But some seem to argue for mainstreaming Tok Pisin as a language of communication and education.
That is a whole other level, linked in with education systems and curriculum and is perhaps a far larger sphere than we writer’s have direct control over.
In the context of contemporary literature, where ordinary citizens and writer’s like ourselves have a much greater say, we may be able to do things right away, provided that we agree on a path, such as suggested by Phil and Paul regarding Tok Pisin ‘Dikshoneries’.
I’m hoping there are interested and/or knowledgeable writers out there who can expound in essay form on the many views from our discussion.
Posted by: Michael Dom | 14 March 2013 at 05:57 PM
Paul, yu gutpela man tru
Olsem nemsake bilong yu
Tingting bilong yu em i tru
Mi sapotim tok bilong yu
Long raitim Dikshoneri blong Tok Pisin tu.
Na brata Phil yu bin igo pas
Long kirapim tingting bilong ol manmeri
Tasol nogut wok i bikpela tumas
Na ol raita pilim em i hevi
Long statim wok - husait nau yet em i redi?
Taim tingting bilong yumi i klia
Na yumi igat nupela Dikshoneri bilong Tok Pisin
Ating bai yumi bung ken long hia
Long dispela nupela kain ples singsing.
Posted by: Michael Dom | 14 March 2013 at 12:10 PM
Mi laik mekim liklik toktok,
Emi nogat traipela wok
Mi bin lukluk olsem
Long buk Dikshoneri emi nem
Long painin aut olgeta tok
(Shades of Mihalic?)
Oa lo nupla Tokpisin ikamap:
Mi laik mekim sampla tok,
Lo lukautim olgeta wok,
Lo painin aut displa nem,
Oa sampla tok olsem,
Tasol dikshoneri inogat nem?
Posted by: Paul Oates | 14 March 2013 at 09:09 AM
Start with a standard spelling Bernard - a dictionary.
I have enormous trouble with all the various spellings of the same word.
The other thing that I have trouble with is Stret Pisin. It's moving too fast for people my age to keep up.
My father was a native Irish speaker. After they gained home rule it became a mandatory subject in schools in Eire.
I could never get my head around it but Irish dictionaries seem to be able to deal with technical and complex language. They just use English but spell it in the Irish way.
Posted by: Phil Fitzpatrick | 13 March 2013 at 09:19 PM
Jeffrey, I recognise and value your decision to write in Tok Pisin and I look forward to reading some of your works.
It is worth pointing out that the two of us have been educated to a very high level, so we already understand concepts of poetry which we have learned from the English speaking world.
Try writing haiku and you'll experience in a small way what Japanese culture is like. Similarly with ghazal's, which are Persian.
I'm interested in 'hearing' more from others about this issue of Tok Pisin as the language of our literature.
Posted by: Michael Dom | 13 March 2013 at 08:44 PM
Michael, bro I have started writing poems in Tok Pisin.
I think we all should.
Posted by: Jeff Febi | 13 March 2013 at 05:08 PM
Keith, I should give recognition to my colleague Silvana Sandi for penning the Bahasa version of the poem.
Bernard, an interesting idea you raise.
Alternatively, we could just allow Tok Pisin to develop on its own and while we use it in literature and also contribute to constructing the vocabulary and grammatical structure.
It saddens me to think of Tok Pisin killing off our 860 true vernacular languages. This may be something PNGians should wish to avoid at all costs.
It is one key characteristic that marks us as being completely different from any other country on the surface of this planet and, as far as we know, the entire known univerese: an island nation with almost as many languages in it as there are in several continents.
Posted by: Michael Dom | 12 March 2013 at 10:29 PM
PNG does need a national language to unify us. In between Motu and English, Pidgin is the most commonly used language throughout PNG.
A person from Jiwaka can not go to New Ireland and start speaking the Jiwaka language to a New Irelander.
As such, I see the need to study the Pidgin language scientifically. What I mean is making it a subject on its own via the creation of new words and applying formal grammatical rules and etc.
This is a challenge to our language and linguistic graduates who graduate every year from UPNG. Can they study another language and how it has evolved over time with the intention of making Pidgin a national language that we can export and use?
With Pidgin no one ethnic group can claim bragging rights. If we use Motu, Kuman or Engan these ethnic groups will think their culture is better than others.
The trend and from what I see, in the next 30 years when we died and go away our children will not doubt continue to use an evolved version of Pidgin.
Pidgin will not die out but our native languages will.
Posted by: Bernard Yegiora | 12 March 2013 at 05:15 PM
Are there any Tok Pisin courses in Port Moresby? Or elsewhere in PNG? I can't find any?
Posted by: Samantha Dennis | 12 March 2013 at 11:26 AM
Some good ideas here, I wonder if the effect required could be enhanced by using tok pidgin words and phrases in texts as we all do when english words are insufficient to convey meaning intended?
Ting ting bilong wanpela lapun whiteman.
Posted by: Harry Topham | 12 March 2013 at 09:50 AM
For each language to become an effective writing means , I think, should solely depend on the person employing it.
The user should discover the undiscovered in every language.
In several local language, what Dom outlines in paragraph 3, can be found.
In my Nasioi language, this list is accommodative: big-tampo bosi, large-pangkaing, huge-ana pangkaing, etc (this only when we compare an object).
But one has to discover.
My thinking.
Posted by: Leonard Roka | 12 March 2013 at 07:34 AM