As in any other language, some Chamorro songs are more than just catchy or moving in sound; they also have a social or political message. Here is one such song, followed below by commentary :
"COMMONWEALTH"
by Tropicsette
Gi durånten i geran dos / i hinalom-ña i Amerikåno,
ha na' tacho' i banderå-ña / sa' ha gånna i Hapones.
Man mafanå'gue i famagu'on / fino' Englis gi eskuela,
ya an ma plånta i amotsa / "scrambled eggs"
ginagao-ñiha.
REF : Hafañe'los ta protehe / Islas Marianas
sa' guiya i palåsyo / ma fa'tinas para hita.
Hafañe'los ta protehe / Islas Marianas
masea ta fan US / lao Marianas i tano'-ta.
Man ma emplea i natibo / ma abandona i fangualu'an,
man hotnalero i lancheros / ya man mendioka i bulacheros.
Mampos på'go i suetdo / lao abundånsia nengkanno',
sa' iya Marianas sumen riko / hilo' tåno' yan halom tåsi.
Mit nuebe sientos setentai ocho / gi estorian Marianas
ma establese i Commonwealth / i nuebo na gobietnamiento.
Meggai ginaddon gi entalo' / eksekutibo yan lehislatibo,
taotao Marianas ha' siha / lao maloffan man enemigo.
And now, for your convenience, an interlinear translation :
Gi durånten i geran dos / i hinalom-ña i Amerikåno,
(During World War Two / when the Americans came in,)
ha na' tacho' i banderå-ña / sa' ha gånna i Hapones.
(they raised up their flag / because they beat the Japanese.)
Man mafanå'gue i famagu'on / fino' Englis gi eskuela,
(They taught the children / English in school,)
ya an ma plånta i amotsa / "scrambled eggs"
ginagao-ñiha.
(and when breakfast was served / they asked for scrambled eggs.)
REF : Hafañe'los ta protehe / Islas Marianas
(Brethren let's protect / the Mariana Islands)
sa' guiya i palåsyo / ma fa'tinas para hita.
(because it is the palace / made for us.)
Hafañe'los ta protehe / Islas Marianas
(Brethren let's protect / the Mariana Islands)
masea ta fan US / lao Marianas i tano'-ta.
(even if we become the US / but the Marianas is our land.)
Man ma emplea i natibo / ma abandona i fangualu'an,
(They employed the natives / the farms were abandoned,)
man hotnalero i lancheros / ya man mendioka i bulacheros.
(ranchers became day workers / and the drunkards became tapioca.)
Mampos på'go i suetdo / lao abundånsia nengkanno',
(Wages now are high / but there is an abundance of food,)
sa' iya Marianas sumen riko / hilo' tåno' yan halom tåsi.
(because the Marianas is very rich / on the land and in the sea.)
Mit nuebe sientos setentai ocho / gi estorian Marianas
(Nineteen hundred seventy-eight / in the history of the Marianas)
ma establese i Commonwealth / i nuebo na gobietnamiento.
(the Commonwealth was established / the new government.)
Meggai ginaddon gi entalo' / eksekutibo yan lehislatibo,
(Many became trapped within / the executive and legislative,)
taotao Marianas ha' siha / lao maloffan man enemigo.
(they are all people of the Marianas / but extreme enemies.)
NOTES
It is very difficult to understand many things in a language if one goes just by a literal translation. Some things are just understood to native speakers, but these things need to be fleshed out to those who understand the language less or not at all.
The central message of this song is : Becoming Americans does not guarantee a perfect life. It also presents some problems. Be careful!
There is the danger of cultural loss or change. The kids now ask for "scrambled eggs" for breakfast. They are learning English in school, but the implied question is, "Are they forgetting their own language?" People have more jobs now and salaries are good, but people are forgetting how to farm and all this money might be allowing more people to spend on liquor and become alcoholics.
There is an implied critique of prosperity here, too. Mampos på'go i suetdo. How can money ever be mampos? Mampos means "excessive." Can one have too much money? The song seems to answer in the affirmative. When there is an excess of money, all kinds of vices can take root. Spending on bad things; making money the highest priority, to the point of suing one's own family over money or land (leading to fractured families).
There is the danger that politics will lead to community divisions. Self-government is now in the hands of the local people, but now they have turned against each other over political issues and, perhaps, over power plays. At the time this song was written, there was a huge fight in the CNMI between the first Governor (executive) and the first Speaker of the House (legislative) of the newly-established Commonwealth.
And the song asks the question, in so many words, "Why be so enamored with the U.S. when our islands are already a palace supplying everything we really need?" Happiness, the song argues, between the lines, is already ours. It does not lie somewhere else, in a country far away.
The song also seems to imply, what I think is really what many people think, that we are Americans only to a point. We are our own people. We might be American citizens, but "the Marianas is our country."
More than that, the song says we have to protect ourselves against the very Americans we are becoming part of. The refrain urges the people to "protect the Marianas." Protect the Marianas from whom? From what? Too much American influence at the expense of our culture, language and social unity? The Chamorros of the Northern Marianas had to protect themselves against the Japanese, and now against the Americans as well! Now there are many in the Northern Marianas who feel the need to protect the land against the U.S., specifically the use of some islands for military purposes.
LANGUAGE NOTES
Geran Dos. This literally means "War Two" or "the Second War." For Chamorros, there is really only one gera (war); the one fought between 1941 and 1944 because that war was the only war, in modern times, where Chamorros suffered the effects of war. So Chamorros normally don't say "World War Two" in Chamorro. It's just the gera.
Haponés. Notice how the singers do not say Chapanis. Chamorros from all the Marianas say Chapanis nowadays, but the older Chamorros, mostly all gone now, used to say Haponés, which is the Spanish way of saying "Japanese." But the Spanish influence on our language is disappearing and English influence ("Chapanis" as our version of "Japanese") has taken over.
Plånta. Literally means "to place on or to set the table." But, originally, it meant "to set up, establish, lay the foundation of." So one can plånta i låso (set the trap) or plånta i tereno (plant the field).
Scrambled Eggs. This is interesting because the "complaint" of the song is that the kids are becoming Americanized, and one example of that is their desire for scrambled eggs. Didn't Chamorros eat scrambled eggs long before the Americans came? Inafliton chåda'? Well, in the mind of the composer of this song, scrambled egg is a symbol of Americanization.
Hotnalero. From the Spanish jornalero, meaning "day laborer." These were people who were hired on a daily basis and paid day to day, as well. The Latin word diurnalis (daily) is the root word for derivatives in many languages such as Spanish jornalero, Italian giorno (day), French jour (day) and English journal (daily newspaper). The song uses hotnalero in the sense of an employee (someone paid by the hour). Before the war, most Chamorros were farmers. Farmers are not employees, nor are the paid by the hour. Farmers work for themselves and live off their produce or the income they get from selling them.
Man mendioka i bulacheros. I will have to ask Candy Taman one day what the real joke is here. Mendioka is tapioca. This is obviously a joke aimed at drunkards (bulacheros).
Establese. NOT establisa. Establisa shows that the American influence ("establish") has really made a dent when some people want to find a Chamorro equivalent. Long before the Americans came, the Spaniards made their dent on our language for 200 years. In Spanish, "establish" is establece, or estabese in Chamorro.
Maloffan. Means "to pass" or "to pass by." It can also mean to "go beyond", to be "extreme." Maloffan lalålo' means "extremely angry." Something has "passed" beyond the normal way of being angry or what have you.
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