Para i Famagu'on

Chamorro language materials I picked up at the Chamorro Studies Division office for my kids.

Sumahi Prime

Ti hu gof tungo' sa' hafa, lao gof ya-na Si Sumahi ni' Si Optimus Prime. Guiya i mas ya-na na "Titilaika" pat gi gino' Ingles "Transformer." Fihu Si Sumahi ha gagao yu' "Malago yu' umegga' Si Optimus Prime." Pues hu na'egga' gui' ni fine'nina pat i mina'dos na Transformers na mubi. Achokka' ti hu gof komprende sa' hafa ya-na Titilaika (lao maolekna na ya-na este kinu otro na kosas famagu'on), tomtom Si Sumahi sa' esta ha tungo' hayi i mas ma'gas na titilaika, siempre Si Optimus.

Cable Zombies

Taya' kable giya Hami. Pues kada na matto i dos patgon-hu gi un guma' ni' gaikable, kalang ayu muna'langga siha. Ha sen kahnayi siha pi'ot an guaha cartoons pat otro na prugramman famagu'on.

Put hemplo este na litratu, annai manugo' ham gi i gima' i atungo'-hu Si Leevin.

Che'lu is Sleeping

Kao mamaigo' hao?
Kao mamaigo' hao?
Che'lu-hu?
Che'lu-hu?
Mandandandan kampana
Mandandandan kampana
Ding Dang Dong

Sumahi's on a Boat!

Si Tata-hu, ha konne' ham para un batko gi i ma'pos na simana giya Apra ya gi oriyan Hagat.

Gof magof Si Sumahi put i hinanaon-mami, ya antes di ta li'e' i batko esta ume'essalao gui' na "Malago yu' manli'e' batko!"

Annai manestaba ham gi i batko, manmanli'e' tuninos, ya manmangonne' ham guihan lokkue'.

Gof ya-na Si Sumahi chumocho guihan, lao annai ha li'e' i kinenne'-mami, hu faisen gui' "kao malago hao kumanno' este." Ilek-na "ahe'."

I Tano' i Manmachalek Siha

Sumahi enjoys it when I read to her the book Where the Wild Things Are.

I read it to her in Chamorro and add my own commentary. At first she hated it when I would speak in Chamorro while reading it, because she knew that since it was a book it was statistically more likely to be in the English language. But now she's gotten used to it and she talks along with me as I read.

She likes to comment on the feet of the wild things. She says, "atan este na machalek na bikilo'. Ti patas bikilo' gui', patas nganga!."

Estague Yu' Munanangga Hao

Akli'e's current favorite song on Youtube.

For some reason he gets into a trance and gets happy everytime I show this to him.

Comes in handy when he's angry and crying.

Lone Nene yan Mahi

Hami yan Si Sumahi para bei in hanao gi agupa'na para lagu, ya ti para ta bira magi Guahan este ki i tinituhun July. Para bei hanao lagu put iyo-ku graduation gi i otro mes ginnen iyo-ku Programman Ph.D. giya San Diego.

Taya' nai hu pulan Si Sumahi taiguihi, para ayu na klasin apmam na tiempo. Siempre bula kombalachi yan yinaoyao siha para Hami na dos. Puede ha' maolek ha' todu.

Gi i hinasso-ku, kulang i "Lone Wolf and Cub" ham. Hinassosso-ku este sa' guahan na kalang duminga i dos. Parehu na langga lao matanga na mata.

Sumahi for Tom Ada

Hayi i mas ya-na na taotao ni' malalago para ofisina Sendot gi este na sakkan?

Egga' este na kachido ya pau mana'tungo'.

Sumahi's First Word

Guaha yinaoyao gi hafa i fine'nina na palabras-na Si Sumåhi. Lao put este na litratu, sina ta hafot todu ayu na diniskuti.

Betsu

For those of you who don't know it, I am sort of a poet on Guam. I've had the privilege of reading several times at the Sinangan-Ta events over the past few years. Sadly, I never win the prize at the end of the contest because my poems are always too long.

Here is one of my biggest crowd pleasers, "I am Chamorro," which isn't too long at around two pages long.

Some of my poems sprawl out of control and end up at four or five pages, such as this one, gi entre i mas ya-hu na betsu-hu, "Time Machine Native."

Over the past few years though I've begun writing shorter and shorter poems, mainly in Chamorro, about less explicitly political things such as guinaya yan triniste. You can find most of these on my blog. One of the few "political" Chamorro poems I've written though is titled "kinattayi yu' ni' sindalun Chamorro giya Irak," or "I was written a letter by a Chamorro in Iraq."

Anyways, how does all this relate to Sumahi? Taimanu chumetton este na sinangan-hu yan i hagga-hu?

Well, Jessica took Sumahi to attend the most recent Sinangan-Ta in December of last year, and I think that the love of poetry reading might be in her blood. Check out these pictures.

Sumahi Attacks!

Gaige yu' ta'lo giya Guahan! Ya sen magof yu'! Lao adahi ha' hamyo, sa' esta mamagi i Bihusaurus!

Poem for Sumahi

Sumåhi
My nene
I haga-hu

After months of worrying, waiting, money saving and relationship negotiating
After days of walking, nipple circling, consoling, papaya eating and labor inducing
After hours of pushing, breathing, hand squeezing, and yelling for medication and centimeter checks
After minutes of bleeding, emerging, screaming, slapping, wrapping, measuring and weighing…
A baby is held before me

Small and cute in a way which can only be felt with a tear wetting the corner of your eye
Her eyes squeezed shut, and only opening in gasps and screams, coordinating in rhythm with her grabbing, barely bending fingers
Eyes, mouth, and hands moving in newborn unison to drink in the world around her

The nurse holding her carries a question as well
“What is her name?”

My mind scans quickly the list of names I had given the mother for her to pick from
It was an interesting collection of Chamorro verbs, nouns, adjectives and states of being, which could make fantastic or terribly awkward and stigmatizing Chamorro children names
Such as
Matatnga: Brave, valiant, fearless
Tokcha’: To stab or to spear
Chichirika: A bright red bird with a beautiful fan shape tail which is known to help children lose themselves in the jungle

Jessica, i nananpatgon-hu, my blessed beloved baby’s mama, chose two names, one for a boy, the other for a girl
As the “her” echoes delicately from the nurse’s lips and settles softly on the yawning mouth of my baby girl, the chosen name slowly begins the long crawl to the front of my mind

Sumåhi…

More than 500 years ago, men would have gathered their nets, lines and canoes at the ocean’s edge, and women their fosiños and seeds at the jungle’s edge
They would have spoken this word to capture the movements of the moon, the patterns of fish and the tendencies of the soil and earth for planting and harvesting their crops.

More than 300 years ago, a man stands atop a cliff overlooking a hastily built and nervously defended Spanish fort
Before him stand hundreds of similarly uncertain Chamorro warriors
This man pierces the night sky with his spear, its tip revealing to all the ever brightening moon, and he would use to word to remind all of the auspiciousness of this night and it being right for an attack

More than 100 years ago, a young man stands on one side of a river, his would-be beloved on the other, momentarily alone, washing the clothes of her family
Beneath a silent lemmai tree he plays his guitar quickly, his fingers looping around the language of the moon, of dreams, of love
He sings this word hoping to enchant his beloved, convince her to become his beloved, especially before her brothers return

As I hold my baby for the first time, the word “sumåhi” emerges from the exhausted fragments of my labor weary mind with all the force of a ghost which refuses to be forgotten
It crawls around my mental corners and contours and in between the molecules of my very blood, bringing with it the traces of a thousand voices which have spoken it, passionately embraced it, or indifferently recited it

The word rides a wave which bristles and breaks, reforming itself forward with the lifeblood of those who have reflected through it, relied upon it, spoken of love or loss with it, called others to work or battle with it, and made sense of nature, earth, the world

This multitude pushes downward my eyebrows and furrows my brow, transforming my face into an awkward image of reflected cuteness
It activates my arms, pulling my baby closer to my face
Her cute, newly there, barely breathing reminds me na sen dikike gui’
Kulang umomlat i patgon gi unu na kannai-hu

The nurse’s eyes remain rounded out, expectantly waiting for my girl’s name
Completely unaware of the typhoon powered history lesson which makes my hands tremble, but also assures me I will not let my baby fall

The name finally arrives at my lips, the cost of its landfall, a fresh tear appearing at the corner of my eye
“Her name is Sumåhi” I say at last, while my lips slowly form a kiss for her forehead

Guahu I Tatan Sumahi

Buenas yan hafa adai. Na’ån-hu Si Michael Lujan Bevacqua. Guahu i tatan este na machålek na ga’ga’ Si Sumåhi. Guahu tumakpångi gui’ ni’ todu i kinute na fina’na’an na pon taitai gi este na blog. Kada na hu atan i nene-hu, humuyong ginnen i titanos-hu, un nuebu na fina’na’an.

Gaige yu’ på’go gi san lagu ya umeskuekuela yu’ giya San Diego para iyo-ku Ph.D.

Kada diha sen mahalang yu’ para i hagga-hu.

Duranten i summer, humami para dos meses giya Guahan, ya kumetåta yu’. Mutung i take’ i nene, ya pao’ma’aksom i te’lå-ña, lao chekle’ i mata’-ña. Gof kapas na chekle’ i nene-hu. Kada na hu hohgue gui’, kada na hu nginge’ i fasu-ña, kada na hu atan i litratu-ña siha, masakke’ i hinagong-hu!

Hu diseseha mohon na ya-miyu este na blog.