Tongue Twisted

Growing up in a melting pot of cultures has made it quite normal for us to converse with each other using three different dialects all at once, knowing full well that the other persons could understand us even if we were, say, speaking in tagalog interspersed with a few chavacano or bisaya words.

But that doesn’t work here in Manila. Like what happened just recently while I was having lunch with my non-bilingual friends. I was telling them about the previous night’s “Maalaala Mo Kaya” episode, wherein a 30-year-old young man fell in love with a grandma aged 69. Icky, but then that’s another story.

As I talked, I told them, “Si Mark kasi ay isang panday,” then, realizing my mistake, I corrected myself saying, “Ay mali, karpintero pala.” Amidst their laughter because of what seemed like a super-malayong mistake, imagine confusing panday (blacksmith) with karpintero (carpenter), I held up my hands and said, “Let me explain! Sa bisaya kasi, panday means karpintero!” Suddenly they understood.

It’s really difficult to talk sometimes, when you have to constantly check that you are saying the right words in the right dialect. I always thought I was a pretty fluent Tagalog speaker until I came here.

Once I complained to an officemate, “Ano ba itong printer, tiku ba naman magprint!” and got a blank stare in reply. I then asked sheepishly, “Uhhh…tagalog ba ang tiku?” (crooked) To which she shook her head.

Then there was that time I told my teammates for the San Miguel engagement about the history of the saying “it’s raining cats and dogs.” I said, “Dati kasi, yung mga aso’t pusa natutulog sa atip,” to which my Bisaya friend burst out laughing. He then said, “Ano ka ba, atup yun sa bisaya pero di yun atip sa tagalog!” Odd, coz I always thought atip was a real tagalog word which meant a roof. So I had invented it?

But hey, I’m not the only one. There was also Zenie telling her officemates, “O, mamya kubrahin ko na kayo.” They wondered if she was referring to a snake (cobra) but she had to explain that she meant she would start collecting their dues.

And Chu once elicited laughter from Mhiles when he graciously offered, “Ako na ang maglalaba ng mga plato.” We then had to explain to Mhiles that in Chavacano, “laba” referred to all kinds of washing, and not just for laundry, as it is used in Tagalog.

And as my good friend Jojo always used to joke, “Wag ka dyan, malodo dyan!” Apparently someone warned this to a Manileño friend, but since the latter didn’t know what “malodo” (muddy) means, the warning was kind of useless, wasn’t it?

But we’re improving. My housemate Reggie even said last night that I don’t sound Bisaya anymore. Chameleon, that’s me!