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Slips of the Tongue
The Jakarta Post - WEEKENDER | Sat, 08/23/2008 1:08 PM | Said & Done
I have always prided myself on being a linguist. During filmmaking projects that take me to countries far and wide, I play the linguistic anthropologist – studying the local dialect, picking up the basics, the newest slang and necessary phrases. Knowing how to say “thank you” in more than 20 tongues, from Polish to Kirundi, is a terrific way to hold court at cocktail parties.
Learning the local language is also a great icebreaker. Locals become more open and accepting of you. Even if it is only a temporary assimilation, the attempt at learning itself is a sign of respect.
Now, Bengali or Swahili may be all fine and dandy, but they are completely alien to me. Indonesian, on the other hand, is something I grew up with, albeit sporadically, as an Indonesian who spent 15 years of my youth abroad. But now that I have returned, how do I learn a language that is supposed to be my own? I already know all the basics; I just cannot communicate without getting laughed out of town.
I find myself having to chase sponsors, write letters and even have my articles published in Indonesian. Tripping over words and creating new ones out of thin air makes me the office jester. Once, I kept telling my colleague to “traduksi” my proposal into Indonesian. In my desperation to get my message across, I had used the French root of “traduction” (to interpret) to try to say “menerjemah”.
Indonesian is deceptive in its apparent simplicity. It is easy on the ears, similar to Spanish really, with its phonetic straightforwardness, but lengthy in its description and opulent in its variety of vocabulary. Did you know that for the word “cheating”, Indonesian has five variations that each has a different connotation? There is “menjiplak” (to plagiarize), “menyontek” (cheating on an exam), “selingkuh” (cheating on your partner), “menipu” (to cheat someone) and “curang” (deceitful).
I have always loved my mother tongue. It is a fun and amusing language with lots of quirks; a friendly, warm and welcoming language that is not unlike its people. But there was another foreign language I had to learn to re-assimilate into my hometown, “bahasa gaul” (slang), which has nothing to do with the textbook language taught in Indonesian classes abroad. In my fumbling attempts to learn it, I felt like I was entering a secret society where only the locals held the key.
Learning the local language is also a great icebreaker. Locals become more open and accepting of you. Even if it is only a temporary assimilation, the attempt at learning itself is a sign of respect.
Now, Bengali or Swahili may be all fine and dandy, but they are completely alien to me. Indonesian, on the other hand, is something I grew up with, albeit sporadically, as an Indonesian who spent 15 years of my youth abroad. But now that I have returned, how do I learn a language that is supposed to be my own? I already know all the basics; I just cannot communicate without getting laughed out of town.
I find myself having to chase sponsors, write letters and even have my articles published in Indonesian. Tripping over words and creating new ones out of thin air makes me the office jester. Once, I kept telling my colleague to “traduksi” my proposal into Indonesian. In my desperation to get my message across, I had used the French root of “traduction” (to interpret) to try to say “menerjemah”.
Indonesian is deceptive in its apparent simplicity. It is easy on the ears, similar to Spanish really, with its phonetic straightforwardness, but lengthy in its description and opulent in its variety of vocabulary. Did you know that for the word “cheating”, Indonesian has five variations that each has a different connotation? There is “menjiplak” (to plagiarize), “menyontek” (cheating on an exam), “selingkuh” (cheating on your partner), “menipu” (to cheat someone) and “curang” (deceitful).
I have always loved my mother tongue. It is a fun and amusing language with lots of quirks; a friendly, warm and welcoming language that is not unlike its people. But there was another foreign language I had to learn to re-assimilate into my hometown, “bahasa gaul” (slang), which has nothing to do with the textbook language taught in Indonesian classes abroad. In my fumbling attempts to learn it, I felt like I was entering a secret society where only the locals held the key.
Six months into living in Jakarta, I find that secret world opening itself up to me. Now I notice myself struggling for English words and finding the heart of it in Indonesian instead. Words like “ember” (emang betul, or that’s true) and “gue” and “loe” are sprinkled into my speech with alarming frequency. My journals written in English are peppered with Indonesian words, all with “quotation marks”, just in case I myself forget that I write in languages other than English in my old age and in my confusion have to Google their meanings. Friends and colleagues still laugh at my honest mistakes, but it is less frequent.
One thing that struck me as I began working as a writer in Jakarta was how everything was contracted. It seems that every day I learn a new contraction. Last month, a nicotine-addicted friend created the word “asdak” for “asbak mendadak” (unexpected ashtray, or finding an ashtray where you least expect it). Last week, I learned “orba”, short for “Order Baru” (New Order).
Not to mention the baffling array of words I had to learn in the film industry. “You are the ‘astrada,’” my producer told me on my first day at a production house. “Assisten sutradara” (assistant director) was what she meant.
My first few months left me grasping at straws for the meanings of these cut-up words. Yet for some reason this is what makes Indonesian the appealing and unique living language that it is. For whenever I try to relay the meaning to a non-Indonesian speaker, the words lose their child-like glee in translation. The dance, the lightness, the soul of these words is accessible solely to those who understand.
In the end, no amount of interpretation or subtitling or voiceovers can replace the original language. Bahasa Indonesia is a language that brings a nation together with laughter and merriment – a shared piece of wordplay, whose humorous essence and warmth is openly available. That is if we just make the effort to learn it.
One thing that struck me as I began working as a writer in Jakarta was how everything was contracted. It seems that every day I learn a new contraction. Last month, a nicotine-addicted friend created the word “asdak” for “asbak mendadak” (unexpected ashtray, or finding an ashtray where you least expect it). Last week, I learned “orba”, short for “Order Baru” (New Order).
Not to mention the baffling array of words I had to learn in the film industry. “You are the ‘astrada,’” my producer told me on my first day at a production house. “Assisten sutradara” (assistant director) was what she meant.
My first few months left me grasping at straws for the meanings of these cut-up words. Yet for some reason this is what makes Indonesian the appealing and unique living language that it is. For whenever I try to relay the meaning to a non-Indonesian speaker, the words lose their child-like glee in translation. The dance, the lightness, the soul of these words is accessible solely to those who understand.
In the end, no amount of interpretation or subtitling or voiceovers can replace the original language. Bahasa Indonesia is a language that brings a nation together with laughter and merriment – a shared piece of wordplay, whose humorous essence and warmth is openly available. That is if we just make the effort to learn it.
+Titania Veda
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Z (not verified) — Mon, 09/01/2008 - 8:28am
Dear Veda,
Fifteen years, quite a long time to be able to forget Bahasa, of course it depends on what period time of your life you were not using Bahasa.
I also spend 6 years aboard, in a Chinese speaking country.
But fortunately, i still can point out mistakes in your 'new recovery'.
Orba = orde (not order) baru = refers to new era of Suharto's goverment, occured after Orla ( orde lama), the Soekarno's era.
Ember = emang bener ( not betul) but the meaning is correct.
While asdak is juz a word I never hear yet, maybe not yet spread to the part of this country I live now, East Java
My humble advice, try to separate between standard Indonesian,which is commonly use in society and newspapers, and the slang language which only used in very limited users in specific region.
Also beware of the abbreviation which lots of Indonesian loves to create now adays.
Good Luck.