Editor’s note: Starting today, West Hawaii Today will feature a biweekly column called “pidgin’ on da loose” by Wally “Kimo” Camp that will educate and entertain readers about Hawaii’s famous pidgin’ language. The following is Camp’s column introduction.
Regardless what you know it as, it is and has been the language of the locals ever since the Hawaiian Kingdom and the sugar barons started importing foreign laborers to work the fields and the processing mills from the mid-1800s through the early 1900s.
Workers came from Japan, Okinawa, China, the Philippines, Korea, Puerto Rico and the Portuguese islands of Madeira and the Azores.
The common language of the plantations was English; so in order for the laborers to communicate with the lunas (bosses), pidgin’ English was born. To use a Chinese term, it was chop suey, all mix’em up, or Hawaiian — kapakahi. A few mispronounced English and Hawaiian words mixed with a spattering of words and terms from each ethnic group became a bonafide language which is still used today. I proudly claim it as my Muddah Tung!
I was born on Oahu but grew up in Hilo which was surrounded by many sugar plantations and most of my classmates and friends (with a few exceptions) were offspring of immigrant sugar workers. Most of us were born near the end of WWII and many of my classmates’ fathers served in the famous 100th/442nd combat units. This is important to keep in mind when reading my column.
I need to explain to readers who are a little sensitive that I will be using slang terms when referring to different ethnic groups. I’m not trying to insult anyone; it is just the way it was and how we all talked back then.
Because of the patriotic times, most of my peers were given typical English/American names like John, James, Susan, Jane, etc. So, imagine what a nightmare it was trying to pinpoint which John one was referring to, John da Pake or Buk-Buk Bob, etc. I was referred to as Wally da Pocho or Pordagee.
This brings up another unique point. Only in Hawaii are Portuguese not considered Caucasian or in local Hawaiian lingo, haole!
Although my mom was of 100 percent Portuguese heritage, born and raised in Hilo, she considered speaking pidgin’ to be demeaning! Therefore, a strict rule was enforced in my house at N.A.S. and later on Lanihuli Street. Once my sister and I crossed the threshold, absolutely no pidgin’ was allowed!
Typical of a young rebellious punk, I dove deeper into the slang. I can still hear Mrs. Moir (my Hilo High English Teacher) admonishing me by saying: “Wallace, I know you can speak proper English!” As I have made a living editing and proofreading text, I always say that she would have been proud of me (actually, I used a graveyard reference!). By the way, admonishing would have been referred to as a tree dahlah wurd! Ha!
My resume always stated (under languages): fluent English, German and da kine. When told by so-called professional resume writers that I should remove the latter, I had to ed-joo-mah-kayt these (mostly haole) pros as to why it would stay in. If a prospective employer didn’t find humor in that, I didn’t want to work for him/her. Or, if they didn’t know the importance of being able to tok da kine tok in Hawaii, I had no desire to work for them either!
Throughout my life, I have travelled the islands of the 50th state during the ‘40s, ‘50s, and ‘60s, then after a 13-year stint in Europe, the ‘70s and ‘80s. In the ‘90s, while working for “101 Things to do in Hawaii” magazines, my job took me from Kona to Maui to Kauai and Oahu every month. What I discovered during this time was that, unlike other island groups, da kine sounds the same from Ka’u to Kekaha.
The language has evolved and no longer can I hear slight nuances linked to certain ethnic groups which was the case up through the ‘60s and ‘70s. When I returned from Europe, I was confronted with words like shaka and hemajang and I had to consult friends who lived through the transition period for translation. I will be covering the term shaka in one of my columns.
One good example of something that was different is the fact that a sno cone is referred to in most of Hawaii as shave ice (no D please!) except in Hilo where it is called ice shave. No one seems to remember how that came about; but I’d be willing to bet it evolved from some pidgin’ speaker asking for it that way. Did you know that there is a ice cream treat in Hawaii with a very unique brand name because local kids would constantly ask for: da kine steek!
I pride myself on being able to write pidgin’ phonetically so even OTB haoles (off the boat) can almost sound local. You fellow pidgin’ speakers may not recognize some of the words I use written my way, but if you pronounce it the way I write it, you will get it.
Please remember when reading my column that my tongue is planted firmly in my cheek and I hope to bring back fond, humorous memories of growing up in Hawaii Nei speaking da kine. Every so often there is a move to ban pidgin’ from the schools. Eh school people, just recently you all witnessed our so-called leaders trying to stop Madame Pele from entering Pahoa. Same thing! No can, but! Hawaiian Creole is here to stay! Embrace it, learn it, practice it. The folks at UH Manoa get it, they offer courses for credit. So, you can probably get a degree by taking Surfing 101, Outrigger Canoe Paddling 101 and pidgin’ 101. I guess your diploma would read: “Bat’cha-lah of Da Kine Arts.”
From time to time, I will be asking for input from the readers on certain subjects. So, pay attention, there will be a test bumbye. LOL! In two weeks, we’ll explore the meaning of da kine.
Wally Camp is a Big Island resident who can be reached at hilowally@gmail.com
