Is “bilum” an English word?

“The hausmeri gave her misis a bilum when she was going finish, something that brought tears to her eyes.” There would be few English-speakers in PNG who wouldn’t understand this sentence and the feelings of loss and connection it expresses. At the same time there would be very few English-speakers in Sydney, London, or New York who would have a clue about who gave what to whom. They might even ask themselves if it was something bad (a life-threatening disease?) or something wonderful (a fortune?). So if people in Sydney, London, or New York cannot understand a word we use every day in PNG, we might ask ourselves if it is actually an English word. And if English is used as the language of education so that Papua New Guineans can communicate with the world, should we even be using words like this?

These words and many more expressions come from Tok Pisin but are used in everyday English in PNG. Some of these words express things that are unique to PNG, such as “bilum”, “kundu”, and “meri blouse”. Others express ideas or concepts that are central to the PNG way of life, such as “wantok”, “wantok system”, or “tok ples”. Sometimes a local word is used here when there is a perfectly good English word available to show just how intimate this thing or concept is to our lives in PNG; how many times have you said “balus” instead of “airplane” or “bubu” instead of “grandmother”? Another thing that is done in PNG is for English words to jump grammatical boundaries. We see this when the preposition “after”, for example, becomes a verb (“That creepy guy keeps aftering me and just won’t take ‘no’ for an answer!”).

Linguistic creativity like this is an important part of Melanesian culture and the localisation of English with words and phrases such as this are signs of the willingness of Papua New Guineans to accept English as part of their everyday lives.
They cannot just be dismissed as examples of incomplete learning by second language learners, as many of these terms are used not only by highly competent Papua New Guinean speakers of English but also by expatriate residents in the country who have English as their first language. So just what is going on? Is it really English?

To answer these questions, we have to look at the role of centralisation and authority in both the English language and in Melanesian culture.
Many world languages have academies or government institutions that regulate the language. They make lists of words that are correct or incorrect, pass laws about spelling rules, and coin “official” new words for people to use.
These rules are made by a central authority, who expect that schools, publishers, and the public in all countries using that language will follow their edicts. French, Spanish, and Portuguese are all international languages with this kind of central authority.

English is not. There are no national government or international agencies who regulate language use.
While some private companies, such as Oxford University Press or Macmillan Dictionary Publishers may print dictionaries and other reference books that many people accept as definitive authorities, users are free to follow one or the other (or, indeed, none at all).
This individual autonomy fits perfectly into Melanesian culture, which until colonial intervention never had large centralised political or social units and which still places much stress on localised identity, including language.
In PNG there is a strong cultural desire to emphasise a local identity.
This desire shows itself in the use of English as well; few people feel a need to use English like an Australian, Brit, or American. Indeed, persons who do might be thought to be showing off or trying to pretend to be someone they are not.
In the same way, expatriate residents use local expressions as a way of integrating themselves linguistically and showing that they, too, are part of the local scene.

So are these words and expressions really English? If we realise that English is a language that is adapted to different cultures and societies, we have to say that there is also something we can call PNG English with expressions such as these. This is why words such as “bilum” are usually included in the English dictionaries specifically made for PNG schools.

Is it incorrect to use them? Here we have to think about our audience, as we should always use language in a way that lets our audience understand us easily.
Just as we would not use English to speak to uneducated people in a remote area, we should not use PNG English expressions with people elsewhere who cannot be expected to know them.
Writing about giving “bilums” to someone “going finish” would be perfectly acceptable in an article in The National newspaper of PNG, but it would not be correct in an article for an international audience.
In a novel by a PNG author about PNG, talking about “bilums” might be a good way to give local flavour, but somewhere in the story there should be an explanation or subtle description of what a bilum looks like and what it is used for, so that a foreign audience is brought into the PNG world.
We must always show our audience respect by using language in a way that they can understand.
This means that it is important for good users of English in PNG to recognise what words are specifically local and how to express these local ideas (“bilum”, “wantok system”, “bubu”) in international English to international audiences (“string bag”, “nepotism”, and “grandparents”). By understanding the boundaries between different forms of a language, we are able to overcome those boundaries and become even more creative in our use of the English language.

• Professor Volker is a linguist living in New Ireland, and an Adjunct Professor in The Cairns Institute, James Cook University in Australia. He welcomes your language questions for this monthly discussion at [email protected]. Or continue the discussion on the Facebook Language Toktok page.