News Briefs (4th edition)

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nothing like a tuesday, late morning blog. =) enjoy --

b


12 June 2010

Vernacular Children’s Books

Another venture related to project work at the school, I’ve started working with two of the teachers on translating some children’s books into the local vernacular. The two teachers are untrained ones from the village, and they are native speakers of the language. I have been pleasantly surprised by their interest in this project.

The process has been an interesting one to orchestrate. The local language is predominately an oral one. Though an alphabet was developed a few years ago by a volunteer linguist from France, that alphabet is rarely needed and used. A select few church songs, stories, and a dictionary are the only samples of written language we could find. With these as a starting point, the two teachers and I set to work.

I had simplified and written out some sample stories in English, which would be the first language used in the books. The remaining task was to translate these sentences into local language; something I thought would be like translating something from English to Spanish. But there were difficulties that translators from English to Spanish (or between any two commonly written and related languages) never face. Translating one sentence took at least five minutes. This began with me reading the sentence in English, and then repeating it in Bislama in as many ways as possible until my two experts in language could fully grasp the meaning and choose the best words in language. Like English, local language is more descriptive than Bislama. A sentence like “He was a little caterpillar but he was a very hungry caterpillar” went to Bislama like this: “Wan taem i gat wan catapila we i smol be hemi wantem kakae tumas” and then “Wan smol catapila we i wantem kakae gogo hemi harem se bae hemi ded lo kakae” and also “Hemi wan catapila we i smol be tu hemi wantem kakae we kakae we kakae” until finally we have to “Iau ringrinḡi ṉwau, tatu malmalum ḡwaga.


Once the phrasing was agreed upon, there was still the task of spelling. Each word had to be sounded out slowly and spelled phonetically. Since writing of the language came later, there are thankfully no tricky ‘silent es’ or many possible spellings for one word, like ‘ph’ or ‘f’ for the sound /f/. There are, however, four variations of ‘g.’ The nuances of all of them are still beyond me, but the teachers helping me could instantly distinguish and, with the help of the dictionary, match the sounds to their corresponding symbol.

Another unforeseen difficulty on my part was translating color names. We made a variation of “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?” using animals common on the island. For those unfamiliar with the book, there is a series of colors and animals which are sometimes simply bizarre, like a green dog. The language here doesn’t use colors like the English (and Spanish, and …) uses colors. In local language, green and blue are one in the same. (I wonder if this is because of the blue-green spectrum of colors in the ocean.) Also, many animals have a color built into their name. If we wanted to say “blue fish,” we’d actually use a specific name for a species of fish that was blue, and that name was the same as the color. I suppose this would be like calling the fish “bluey” (or maybe like calling the color “fishy”). Black and brown were also blended into one word. But white has two, depending on if you want to describe a unnatural white, like a bright light, or more natural one like the color of coconut meat.

Since color names were intricately tied to the words they were describing, using a color to falsely describe an animal was unsettling to the two teachers. They weren’t sure if they could go about translating “green dog” into language. I finally convinced them to think about a dog that got painted or dyed, like how women here sometimes dye leaves for weaving mats. With this acceptable explanation, we finally arrived at the translation “gwiriu malagesaga.”

One more nuance that I was extremely perplexed by was revealed when we tried to translate the word “teacher” into language. Given my previous frustration with the perception of knowledge and education on the island, how it is frantically hoarded and how secrets are justified in keeping the status of a family in the society, I shouldn’t have been surprised to learn that there was no word for “teacher” in language. Trying another route, I asked for the verb version, surely there was a verb for teaching or “lanem wan man blong makem wan samting.” Nothing. Interestingly enough, they could think of the word that area islands Pentecost and Ambae use for teacher, but not one for Maewo. This could be the root of a lot of complications that the public school system is having here.

Overall, it’s an interesting process that really catches people’s interest. We’ve done five books so far (with Justin illustrating) and are just waiting for the photocopier to be up and running so we can put them together. Excitement in the air!

Mother’s Day

As a married female in this culture, I get lumped into the social group of “mama.” It doesn’t matter that we don’t have any kids (actually, I’m pretty sure we’re the only married couple who didn’t have kids first), because we are married, Justin is a “papa” and I am a “mama.” The celebration of Mother’s Day got pushed back a week because the men forgot to plan anything. It seems to be a holiday only celebrated through the church, so only the church program had to be shifted. When they did get around to planning the celebration, Justin got roped in as chief cook.

When the guys did get together to plan, it was quite impressive. We were waited outside the church for the service to start, standing in botanical aisle created with young bamboo plants, flowers, and other decorative flora. The kids all got together to perform a skit and a few songs during the service. After the church service, a few men dressed in custom leaves sang and danced us across the lawn to the meeting hall for lunch.

The lunch was huge and included four kinds of meat (beef, fish, chicken, AND turtle!). There was also tons of rice, laplap, taro, and a large plastic bucket filled with juice to fill our bellies. The guys had all got their respective mamas a new plate to dine on and a special gift from the store (popular items included plastic serving trays or wash buckets).

Let There Be Light

One of our speakers at IST in Vila a few weeks ago was a guy (actually a past Peace Corps volunteer) who has a business in Vila selling solar powered lights. His goals with the business are both environmental and financial as his products will cut down on kerosene usage, something that damages the environment and the pocket book.

We get lots of comments on our hand-crank Coleman lanterns and exceptionally powerful solar powered flashlight. So, knowing there was an interest on Maewo, we agreed to help make these items available to the people in our area.

For now, we’re taking the three different models around to show how strong their light is and collecting orders. Things will probably really take off within the next week or so, for now we’re bracing ourselves for all the requests to “take accounts” or allow people to order and pay later.

Though it may require a bit of paperwork and organization, these are great products that are meeting a very real and practical need in the area. It’s nice to be able to make that connection for the Vila based company, even if only as volunteer distributors.

School Break-Up

Our meetings in Vila coincided with the school’s “two weeks break,” a two week vacation that the schools take between terms (sort of like our Spring Break). The day before the break begins, all the parents and kids come to the school. This year, just like last year, families brought laplap or baked taro to put with a school sponsored bullock (beef). Families could also contribute cabbage, green coconuts, fruits, or some other food to be sold.

With all the food coming in, the female teachers were stuck in a cramped, copper sauna, also known as the school’s dining hall, to organize and price everything to be sold. A leaf of laplap sold for 40 vatu, with meat 60 vatu. A green coconut was 20 vatu. The most expensive was rice with meat, which sold for 100 vatu.

Once everything was sorted, we opened the windows (air!) and people lined up to pay for food like a concession stand. At one point, I was the only one taking money and filling orders. This was all fine and well, until people started getting picky about their laplap. Laplap wrapped in a dark green leaf all looks the same to me. So, when a guy showed up asked specifically for three parcels banana laplap (not taro laplap), I was lost on how to distinguish between the two. To me, all kinds of laplap have a very similar, neutral, colorless look, shape, and texture. At first, I’d hold open in the corner of the parcel and have the guy look for himself. Each time I was wrong, he’d give me this baffled look, unable to believe that I couldn’t tell the difference. Then I remembered an eccentric sense organ of mine: my nose! Ah, my trusty, faithful nose. Sure enough, I could poke my nose in those openings in the leaf parcel and tell if it was banana or taro (or manioc!) laplap. The banana laplap guy was intrigued by this I’m sure.

Most of the time during the break-up was used for a parents meeting to update everyone on the status of things, like policies on paying school fees, the school’s debt, school board members’ announcements, at the school. Teacher’s posted test grades on their classroom doors for parents to pass by a look. Last year, there were activities and presentations by the students, but this year is different. Taking advantage of having a large population of student families around, the school’s administration needed to get some information out there. I found this unfair to the kids, who deserve a chance to show off what they do at school to their parents. Hopefully next two weeks break (late August) will be more catered in that direction.

Natambe’s Birthday

One of the teachers’ sons turned one year old a few weeks ago. First birthdays are a big deal in Vanuatu and I got to play photographer while Natambe, the birthday boy, dove face first into his first birthday cake.

This was an extra special celebration as it happened to fall on a Tuesday, the day of the week that a plane usually comes to Maewo. Natambe’s parents had some family in Vila put a cake and frozen chicken wings on the plane. So we dined on the nation’s best! Justin and I contributed no-bake cookies and some Valentine’s Day conversation hearts to decorate the cake.

That evening was a memorable one. After eating, the younger kids gravitated towards the video screen (yes, Natambe is that big of a deal and we fired up the generator). A few of the older kids and a guitar-savvy teacher and I gathered around to sing songs. I taught them a few church songs from home; which was a complete hit. We sat around, me singing single lines over and over until the teacher could find the right chord, and eventually everyone joining in. Good thing working at Coldstone taught me to sing shamelessly. After mastering a song, they would encourage me to think of another one and we would tackle that one for awhile. Fun times.

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Photos

Boys and their Toys
Some village boys pushing their homemade "trucks" down the road.

Translation in Progress
The local language translation of "The Very Hungry Caterpillar"

Local Language Books
One of the final pages - translated, typed, illustrated and ready for color!

Mother's Day
The mama's crossing the lawn for lunch in the meeting hall. Look for my blonde pigtails.

Lunch Time
The kids lead us to our places for lunch. We all got doused with baby powder, a celebratory tradition, as you can see on the back of this mama's neck.

Kastom SingSing
The men serenading us before lunch. Notice the cake in the middle and, yes, the cardboard sign reading "Happy Mother's Day" on one man's head.

Solar Lights
Two of the models of solar light (and our cat).

School Break-Up
The scene inside the food stand.

Birthday Boy
Natambe and his first birthday cake.