On Language and being Filipino
November 7, 2014- On one of my recent book hunts, I came across a book titled “Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon” by Rio Alma. It is a bilingual edition where the English translation (Journeys, Junctions) was done by Marne Kilates. As the title suggests, all of the poems (originally written in Filipino) are inspired by the author’s travels here in the Philippines as well as abroad. I enjoyed reading the book, especially the poems on the beauty of Baguio, and the magnificence of the landscape of Mt. Makiling- these poems touched my heart and as I keep reading them, I appreciated more our country: its beauty, its struggles.
However, I am not writing this for the poems (not that the poems are not worth writing about because they are). I am writing this because I found out that I am only focusing on the English translation of the poems when reading. I am writing this because I seem to appreciate the English more than the Filipino version of the poems. I am writing this because as a Filipino, I found out I cannot understand my own language, speak it fluently, even. Ask me to read aloud the Filipino version of the said poems and I will sound like a stuttering fool.
Let us admit it, we are all guilty of the same thing: as Filipinos, we do not know our language well enough. We speak it daily, but there is no appreciation of its beauty or its uniqueness in our hearts. We cannot fathom all the possibilities of its usage and these thoughts continue to worry and sadden me. How can we call ourselves Filipinos when we do not love or know our own language by heart?
I believe that one of the things that anchor and connect a citizen to his/her country is language. The more one uses and appreciates it, the more his/her roots go deeper. I am very fortunate to have been given the opportunity to travel in some Asian countries such as Thailand, Singapore, Hong Kong, and South Korea. In all my travels, I made a discovery that changed the way I look and feel for our country: they all use their own language (and their alphabets) in every activity and in their daily lives. Theirs is a living language and letters whose heartbeat is felt in as simple as their street signs or in something nationally published like newspapers and magazines, but most especially, it can be felt in their names: Jae Joong (Korean), Chanthira (Thai). I envy them, really, because they do not have to borrow language from another country. I envy them because they prospered and are prospering still through the use of their own letters. I don’t know, I am not sure, but after my travels in other countries, I started thinking that there might be a connection between a country’s growth and the use of its own language.
I do not hate English. I cannot possibly hate a language I’ve been studying and using practically all my life. However, I wish I can use and speak Filipino the way I use the English language. I wish I can announce to the whole world how proud I am that as a country, we have our own language, too. But I cannot do that because I grew up learning and feeling that Filipino is second only to other languages. Also, it is hard to say that I love our language when I cannot even understand most of its words.
Now, while my bus home navigates through the EDSA rush hour, I sometimes imagine seeing Baybayin letters-proud and bold- instead of the alphabet used in advertisements in billboards or in street signs. There are times I wonder how articles such as this will read in Filipino. Sometimes I wonder if my name, instead of Patricia is “Haraya” or “Sinag” because these words are so Filipino and are so beautiful. It is almost as if I feel my country deep within myself: its beauty, its struggles. How about you, have you ever wondered what would you name yourself in Filipino given the chance? Can you imagine it written in baybayin letters as well? I know, it would’ve been amazing.
