If you are an Ao Naga, you already know that some Ao words resist translation into English. They do not merely lose depth when rendered in English, they lose their soul. Sobaliba is usually translated as culture, yet Sobaliba is far more than a general idea of inherited practices. It captures identity, worldview, philosophy, and the living continuity of a people. Arju is another example. It is often equated with the word morung, which is itself not English, or explained as a “young men’s dormitory.” Such descriptions fail to capture its layered social, educational and cultural significance. Arju is Arju. Sobaliba is Sobaliba. They carry worlds within them.
Anyone fluent in multiple languages knows this dilemma. Some concepts simply cannot be packed into English. The Japanese word shibui describes beauty that is simple, subtle and enduring, something English struggles to express without a long explanation. Danish hygge captures a warm and comforting feeling that entire books have attempted to clarify. Portuguese saudade mixes longing and melancholy in a way no English phrase can match. Welsh hiraeth goes even further by adding a nostalgic ache for one’s culture and homeland.
These words remind us that languages shape how people perceive and relate to the world. This idea is explored in the theory of linguistic relativity, sometimes called the Sapir Whorf hypothesis. Edward Sapir suggested that languages act as mirrors of cultural patterns. If a community repeatedly experiences something meaningful, a word naturally forms around it. If another community does not share that experience, the word may not exist at all.
This does not mean languages are prisons. It means they are living vessels of culture. When a word refuses to translate neatly, it is telling us that it belongs to a particular place, shaped by a particular history and carried by a particular people.
Perhaps the answer is not to force every word across linguistic boundaries. Perhaps some words should be allowed to stand exactly as they are. Let Arju remain Arju. Let Sobaliba remain Sobaliba. Such untranslatable words remind us that culture is woven into language itself, and that some ideas can only remain whole when spoken in their own tongue.
