The colourful and highly imaginative world of ‘Guyanisms’

Apr 20, 2014 News

COUNTRYMAN – Stories about life, in and out of Guyana, from a Guyanese perspective

By Dennis A. Nichols
The English language loves the suffix ‘ism’; there are about 2000 of them tacked on to words and roots, from the philosophical to the absurd, from existentialism to ‘spoonerism’, a comical slip of the tongue, or, to turn it into an actual spoonerism ‘a tip of the slung.’

Dennis Nichols

Now here’s a new one for you, ‘Guyanisms!’ (and I guess you can add ‘Trini-isms’, ‘Bajanisms’ ‘Jamaicanisms’ etc…) words and language akin to English, but twisted and inflected to suit the colourful and highly imaginative way we have of describing the things around us, and in expressing our emotions and perceptions. Many have found their way in our very own Caribbean dictionary. (More about this volume in a subsequent story)
This West Indian repertoire is so wide, and with so many nuances in intonation and connotation, that, in my opinion, it is nearly impossible for any group of researchers, or any two people for that matter, to wholly agree on the pronunciation, spelling or exact meaning of such terms.
Warning! Some words that may appear to be Guyanisms or regional dialect are actual English dictionary words. For example, I had long been fooled by the words ‘bumptious’ and ‘tittivate’ only to later find them snugly nestled between the pages of the Oxford English Dictionary; in other words, I am no expert in this field, so if I slip-up between what I consider a Guyanism and what is a real word, bear with me. “Is no big ting; all ah we is Guyanese.”
So here we go. Let’s start with one of my favourites. ‘Sanders’, instead of sandals. Why not? Do I need to know that the thing I push my feet into is derived from the Greek word sanadalion, a diminutive of sandalon, of unknown origin, probably Persian? Why not be content with ‘something I wear on my feet that allows sand to get between my toes.’ So ‘sanders’ it is. And if I’ve been walking in my ‘sanders’ for hours in the hot sun and I get home, I may be so hungry that I may snatch something from the pot and tear into it, at which point I will be deemed ‘lickrish’,’ scraven’ or at best ‘hungish’ three terms which paint a picture of a slobbering, grunting hog devouring anything in sight.
Then there’s waldrove, instead of wardrobe. This originally derived from an old French word ‘wardereube’ which deconstructed to ‘warder’ and ‘robe’ literally ‘a place where garments are guarded.’ By whom I may ask? But if you bought that large, heavy piece of furniture and some burly individual ‘drove’ it up against a ‘wall’ in your bedroom, then why not? Now if he demanded an extra ‘frek’ for his strenuous effort and you declined, he may become somewhat ‘voicestrous’, a magnificent marriage of vociferous and boisterous that captures the disposition of many of us Guyanese.
Now from the ungainly ‘voicestrous’ we jump to quaint little ‘feg’ as in a feg of garlic. I know many of us now say clove, (the right word) but despite this proper parlance, I love the word ‘feg’ which seems so much more fitting than the nail-shaped clove, and I still use it, even when I conversate with the hoity-toity. “What! Conversate?’ you say. “That’s not a word.” Oh yes it is! Ever heard of back-formation? It happens when someone shortens a noun like conversation to get what he/she deems a valid verb. The same thing happens with ‘commentate’ (from commentator) and ‘orientate’ (from orientation) so don’t be ‘bumptious’ (rudely conceited) and ‘tittivate’ (smarten up) what I’m saying. These are all now acceptable, thank you.
My father who taught me more English than primary and high school combined, would have taken issue with me on this article, were he still alive. He hated to hear his children speak ‘improperly.’ Words like ‘flim’ instead of film and ‘aks’ instead of ask troubled him (in a quiet, moody sort of way) Others that he couldn’t stand were ‘aireated’ (aerated) ‘drownded ‘ (drowned) and ‘strimp’ (shrimp) It’s a good thing he wasn’t around for ‘sponsorer’, ‘brackle’ and ‘basidee’, although he must have known some of the other ‘ee’ words like ‘schupidee’ and ‘pagalee’, but hopefully not ‘lameter’ which is a real word meaning ‘lame person’ and ‘fingle’ a now obsolete construction of fangle and finger, a wonderful onomatopoeic word that meant exactly what it sounded like. (Don’t fingle with dem phulourie I jus’ mek’)
My mother, on the other hand, loved funny words and word arrangements. One she liked was ‘rangatan’ which I assumed was a corruption of ‘orangutan’ a large Asian monkey, and which she often used to describe any of her seven children. She had a particular fondness for ‘Indian’ words like ‘murghee’ and ‘surwa’ for chicken and rice. When she had little or no money, which was fairly often, she would say, with palms upturned, “Paisa na bah’ meaning, ‘we don’t have any money.’ She’d lived several years in Mahaicony where, she said, she learnt from the many Indian friends she had there.
I inherited both my father’s strict language ethic and my mother’s love of ‘fun’ words, and as an itinerant teacher/ journalist, I came across a lot of both everywhere I went. But it was in The Bahamas that I was to hear some of the funniest and strangest terms I’d heard anywhere. What made it even funnier to me is the impression I have that Bahamians are very, outspoken and self-assured, traits which can easily be mistaken for arrogance. So when I first heard words like ‘ting-um’, ‘mudder-sick’, ‘bungee’, nanee’and’ jungalist’ I was at sea, until my students enlightened me.
‘Ting-um’ is simply anything; “Mudder-sick!” is an exclamation of shock or disbelief; your ‘bungee’ (boong /gie) is your rear end’; ‘Nanee’ is a childish word for faeces; and a ‘jungalist’ is a vulgar, abrasive woman, maybe the kind that would be referred to as a ‘b****’ elsewhere. One of my students asked me if I was a ‘Conchee Joe.’ I said I didn’t think so, and I was right. A Conchee Joe is a White Bahamian. A girl once asked me about my ‘bright’ son. She didn’t know my son or his intellectual prowess; she was referring to his light skin, what we would call ‘Red’ here. Thankfully, no one would probably ever call him a ‘joneser’ – a drifter, panhandler or ‘junkie’ who may wash your car for a dollar.
Remember the warning I gave earlier about some words that may seem like dialect. Well I’m glad that I don’t consider myself what one may call pompous or condescending, or I may have been put in my place by my Amerindian friends in the North West. I heard some of them using the word ‘dunnage’ frequently when loading their boats with bags of yam, or any kind of cargo for that matter. On more than one occasion I was tempted either to ask them about this strange word, or even politely correct them with the ‘right’ word –‘tonnage’ meaning, the cargo-carrying capacity of a vessel. I’m glad I did neither.
As it turned out, dunnage was the correct and proper word, meaning the boards and planks laid at the bottom of the boat upon which cargo is placed. Instead of a proper correction, I would have looked a proper fool.
Another word which I heard them use often was ‘droug’ when they were fetching out bags of ground provisions from the backdam. For example, “Teacher Dennis, come help we droug dese cassava to de corial” Although it now seems to have disappeared from usage, I had found the word in a dictionary several years ago. Its meaning is ‘to fetch or carry especially heavy objects or loads.’ Since then, I have become much more of a listener and a learner, than a talker, especially when I’m around persons whom some may consider uneducated, a word which should almost never be used to describe anyone.
The English language is a dynamic and living lexicon. Words considered urban dictionary slang a few years ago, are now in both Webster’s American and the Oxford English dictionaries. Here are a few that I think need no definition, except maybe for the over 70’s: Bling, mini-me, ginormous, bootylicious, bromance, frenemy, d’oh (or duh!), dis, po-po (think Madea) sexting, selfie, and the now notorious twerking – all now ‘ahem’ acceptable. As far as I am aware, all of these originated as recent offbeat ‘Americanisms.’ So what about a few of our more imaginative ‘Guyanisms’?
Most of us can be quite ‘voicestrous’ when we need to be. Maybe we should actively lobby for a few Guyanese/Caribbean ‘words’ to be recognized as valid contributions to the English language. I think backdam, banga-mary, sanders, feg, scraven, lickrish, basidee, babylon (police or corrupt state) dreadlocks (a valid Scrabble word) jook, (to stab) cunumunu (fool) wine (gyrate) and mamaguy (pretend/make fun of) can stand international scrutiny and gain international acceptance. If not, we could somehow brackle (corner) a group of well-placed American or British lexicographers, and force them to take notice. They may become basidee (confused) and comply.