Mi laekem Bislama

Mi laekem Bislama

Because there are more than 100 separate languages spoken in Vanuatu – and that’s excluding English and French – a universal language is needed to prevent headspinning confusion.

This is Bislama, a variation of Pidgin English. It is the national language of the republic of Vanuatu and it is the coolest language to try to learn.

Bislama is phonetic and in some cases hilariously literal.
A bra is ‘basket blong titi’ (basket belong titty), a helicopter is ‘mixmasta blong Jesus Kraes’ (Mix Master belong Jesus Christ) and a helicopter landing is ‘mixmasta blong Jesus Kraes I foldaon’ (Mix Master belong Jesus Christ he fall down).

We’ve heard several gorgeous variations of piano, but the gist of it is ‘bigfala bokis, wan blakfala wan waetfala, yu kilim emi singalot’ (literally – big European box with some white and black teeth. You hit it, it sings.)

A trap for young players is the word ‘kilim.’ It means ‘to hit’ not ‘to kill.’ If you want to finish someone off completely you ‘kilim I ded.’

Other favourites are ‘no smoking’ – ‘yu no maekem fia (don’t make fire), broken down is ‘bagarap’ (despite stemming from the English ‘bugger up’ it’s not actually considered vulgar in Bislama), if you repair something you ‘fiksimap, and the motto for the local drop, Tusker beer, is ‘bia blong yumi’ (our beer.)

In statistical terms there is a distinct language for every 1200 Ni Vanuatu inhabitants – one of the highest language densities in the world, and Bislama has several roots. In the first half of the 19th century many islanders were recruited as crew for whaling boats and a type of Pidgin English developed to help Europeans and Islanders communicate. When they’d managed to kill most of the whales the traders in Europe, Australia and China turned to sandalwood and bech de mer (sea slugs) – both of which were plentiful in Melanesia – and the language grew from there.

By the 1860s the sandalwood and slug industries were in decline and were replaced by sugarcane, which was grown on a commercial scale and exported to Queensland and Fiji. This was all very labour intensive and Melanesia was seen as a rich source of labour. Sadly many of those labourers were recruited through a practice called black-birding (pretty much another word for slavery) and never saw their homes again.

Over a 50 year period Bislama evolved into a language that has enabled people with different dialects and from different cultures to communicate.

Paddy and I try to learn the local word for thank you in every place we go. In Tonga it is ‘malo’ or ‘malo aupito’ (thank you very much), Fiji has ‘vinaka’ and in Vanuatu it is ‘tangkyu tumas (tumas is ‘very much’).

We decided to learn a bit more Bislama because – particularly in villages on the islands – our ‘tangkyu tumas’ was greeted with a delighted ‘yu spik Bislama?’ to which our reply was always an embarrassed ‘we’re learning.’

Most of these guys could speak at least some English and I am sure a bit of French as well and we thought if they were making that kind of effort we should have a bit of a crack at learning their own language. When I think about it, it’s a little embarrassing really. Some of these people live – literally – in the middle of nowhere and they are bi, if not tri-lingual. I did about half a term of 3rd form French (only because I knew we got chocolate gateaux at the end of the course), studied a dead language at university – ancient Greek for translation purposes in Classics – which I failed miserably (the Greek not the Classics) and picked up Pig Latin primary school – quite pitiful really!

We also decided to learn it because it’s heaps of fun. We discovered a book called ‘Evri samting yu wantem save long Bislama be yu fraet tuman blong askem’ (Everything you wanted to know about Bislama but were afraid to ask) which has been brilliant. Rather than just being a phrasebook it looks at the mechanics of the language, which makes it much easier to pick up.

I’ll leave you with some of our favourite translations:

You = yufala
You two = yutufala
Ol trak ia oli bagarap = this truck is buggered
Good = gudfala
Bad = nogud
Big = bigfala
Old = olfala
To cook = kukum
Bathroom = rum blong swim
Refrigerator = aisbokis
Cemetery = beregraon
A boastful person = bigmoat
Ocean = dipsi
To assist = givhan
Barracuda = longmaot
A little = lelebet
Excellent = nambawan
To be confused = meksap
New Zealand = Niu Silan

Ta ta,

Anna and Paddy xxx

Published by

seamunchkin

Author of Which Way is Starboard Again? Story of a short, anxious, orange cat lady bumbling her way across the South Pacific. http://bit.ly/1OEdR7D

One thought on “Mi laekem Bislama”

  1. This is fabulous. The language reminds me a lot of both Creole and Gullah, two coastal south languages that you still hear a bit here and there. We’re loving your adventures!!

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