Truthiness: 2006 Merriam-Webster Word of the Year

The Merriam-Webster dictionary has announced the 2006 word of the year, and that is truthiness n., which may mean 1. "truth that comes from the gut, not books" (Stephen Colbert, Comedy Central's "The Colbert Report," October 2005); 2 : "the quality of preferring concepts or facts one wishes to be true, rather than concepts or facts known to be true" (American Dialect Society, January 2006).

Next to it is the word Google, vt, meaning “to use the Google search engine to obtain information about (as a person) on the World Wide Web.”

2005 word of the year: integrity
2004 word of the year: blog

For those who are interested to know how a word gets into Merriam-Webster dictionary, click here.

The Newcomer

An angel in whose smile and laughter
we feel joy too intense for words;
and in whose presence we feel God’s grace;

A bundle of joy in whose eyes
we see beyond the present,
and for whom we anticipate the future;

A human being, yet too young and tiny
but already powerful — bringing us closer

and making us united in pursuit of love-filled life;

A little soul whose need for us
warms our hearts, humbles us, and inspires us
to endeavor to become our better selves;

You are all these, little one.
And more.



An ode for my nephew: Lucky Ryan D. Benosa, Jr. on his 6th month on Earth; January 4, 2007.

This piece was written while author was having lunch, January 5, 2007. Pasong Tamo Extn, Makati.

Richard Paul Evans on RD’s cover

The Reader’s Digest issue* I’m talking about is six years old, but I don’t mind. On its cover is one of my favorite contemporary writers — Richard Paul Evans, the author of three** of my favorite books: The Looking Glass, Timepiece, and The Locket.

On RPE’s works
Almost romance (but not the shallow kind silly young girls love to read) and somewhat inspirational, Mr. Evans’ works show his deep understanding of and respect for the human soul. Providing insights into the depths of humanity — the struggles and pains that plague it, the hopes and dreams that keep it going, and the joys and thrills that provide its deliverance from its hell — Mr. Evans’ works appeal both to the emotion and to the mind, and thug even at a harden man’s heart. His novels are the kind of work I love to read; and his themes, the kind which, for years, I’ve been hoping and struggling to be sensitive and wise enough to explore in my writings.

I’ve read quite a lot of books, but none has affected me as much as Mr. Evans’ works had. No other lines had come back to my mind as frequently and as readily as those I’ve encountered in his books. Several of his characters, though ordinary people, had even played the role of an adviser or grandparent in my mind, giving me a piece of their thoughts. Let me quote some (I will add more quotes when I have the books with me):

"Imagine a ship trying to set sail while towing an anchor. Cutting free is not a gift to the anchor. You must release that burden, not because the anchor is worthy, but because the ship is." — Esther Huish to Michael Keddington (The Locket), when Michael told Esther that he can never forgive his alcoholic father who abandoned him and his mother when his father was still alive.

"I love you, not for the things you have, or even what you might have or might become someday--but because of who you are right now and how you make me feel. I love the goodness of your heart. I have friends who have married rich boys with poor hearts and I pity them, in their new cars and big new homes, for all their poverty." — Faye Murrow to Michael Keddington (The Locket), when the latter was worried that he was so poor and had nothing to offer Faye, who was a rich doctor's daughter.


Another thing I love about Mr. Evans’ books are the diary entries of his characters with which he starts each chapter. Let me quote a few (again, I’ll add some more when I can):


“Rarely do we invest the time to open the book of another’s life. When we do, we are usually surprised to find its cover misleading and its reviews so flawed.” — Michael Keddington’s journal in The Carousel

“I have come to believe that the defining moments of most lives are not the acts of courage or greatness; rather, they are the simple acts: expression of virtue or vice that are tossed carelessly like seeds from a farmer’s hand, leaving their fruits to be revealed at a future date. But not always. There are moments that are like some cosmic examinations. And like all examinations, there are those who pass and those who fail. — Michael Keddington’s journal in The Carousel

"There are times that I have been tempted to protect my heart from further disappointment with cynicism...But it would be like poisoning oneself to avoid being murdered." — Esther Huish's diary in The Locket

"At times, hearts are the most traitorous of devices. They tumble headlong and blindly toward obvious dangers while they obstinately protect us from that which would likely do us the most good." — Hunter Bell's diary in The Looking Glass

"I have learned a great truth of life. We do not succeed in spite of our challenges and difficulties, but rather, precisely because of them. — Hunter Bell's diary in The Looking Glass

"I have made a grave mistake. I have carelessly handled a heart entrusted to mine. And in so doing I have broken both." —Hunter Bell's diary in The Looking Glass

"The most difficult of decisions are often not the ones in which we cannot determine the correct course, rather the ones in which we are certain of the path but fear the journey." — Esther Huish's diary in The Locket


On the RD article on RPE

As I read the piece on Mr. Evans written by Barbara Sande Dimmit, I felt I knew him. I am glad to note that we have something in common: that is, writing for our loved ones and presenting our creations to them as gifts. Dimmit writes that Mr. Evans' first novel, The Christmas Box, was written out of his love for his children. According to Dimmit, Mr. Evans thought that a book “written by him from the heart seemed the perfect gift.”

As for me, I’ve always thought that some of my better pieces are not among those that have been published; but those enjoyed only by the people for whom they were written and to whom they were presented as a gift. I often spend hours and sleepless nights writing a piece especially for someone whom I care about, and it’s such a great joy for me to know that the recipient of my creation treasures my gift; more so when he or she is affected by it. In fact, it was by writing for my family and friends that I realized I can write. When my dad told me I can, I didn’t believe him (I thought he was just blinded by his love for me). But when I realized that my "readers" are affected by my writings, I started asking myself, can I really write?


* I bought the RD last night from Books for Less when I saw RPE on the cover. That was after I decided not to buy a copy of his book which I have not yet read because I thought it was overpriced at second-hand. I think it’s only 60 pesos cheaper than the brand new version. I thought it wasn’t a good deal (kuripot, he he).

** Besides the titles I mentioned, RPE has also authored other books, including The Christmas Box, A Perfect Day, The Letter, and The Carousel.

Humor helps prolong life

It had always been assumed that sense of humor can help patients cope with their disease, but there were no available scientific studies to support this assumption.

Until now, that is.

A study by researchers from the Norwegian University of Science and Technology and St. Olav’s University Hospital in Trondheim found that sense of humor does help prolong life.

Published in the November 2006 issue of The International Journal of Psychiatry in Medicine, the study involved severe kidney patients (n = 52), most of whom required a once-a-week — others, daily — dialysis treatment. Forty-one of the patients completed a questionnaire that sought to determine their age, gender, education, quality of life, and sense of humor.

The researchers found that those who had high scores in their sense of humor had a reduced risk of dying from kidney disease within two years by as much as 30 percent. This was after adjustments for other factors affecting the patients’ health issues, quality of life and other conditions had been made.

The researchers concluded that sense of humor appeared to help kidney patients cope with their condition and, upon survival, protect them against the detrimental effects of disease-related stressors.


This piece is a rehashed version (by me) of the medical news article "Humour Helps You Live Longer" published in the Medical News Today website and of the research abstract available at the MdLinx website.

He Loves Me

Several paths are laid before me
Which way to go, I don’t worry
I’m confident I’m on the right way
For His light shines upon me.

So many voices are calling out to me
But these don’t confuse me
I know which one to answer
For His voice is louder than the others.

Problems of different forms confront me
But these shall never defeat me
I know I can overcome all these
For He teaches me the way.

Against all of life’s storms, I’ll stand firmly
Amidst all evil, I’ll stay untouched
I believe God takes care of me
Because I know He loves me so much.


This piece was written in 1991. I was 13.

Classics and me: Changing my stand

In my February 8, 2006 post (The Challenge), I challenged myself to read eight classics, in addition to some non-classics I planned to finish this year. The challenge was for me to find out if I’d ever be able to stand classics, which I’d always labeled as boring, their language and themes being reflective of eras I can hardly relate to.

Eight classics after, here I am, ready to concede that my friends Salve and Tayns are right in thinking that classics do present interesting facets of the lives and events in the authors’ respective milieus.

Needless to say, I did enjoy my foray into the world of classical literature. I laughed at Tom Sawyer’s and Huckleberry Finn’s antics in Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Adventures of Huckleberry Finn; chuckled at Scout and Jem Finch’s frolics in Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mocking Bird; emphatized with Oliver in Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist; wondered if indeed Pearl in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter was out of this world; flinched at Catherine and Heathcliff’s unapologetic brashness in Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights; lived with the gods and goddesses in Edith Hamilton’s Mythology; and laughed at Pettrucio’s wit and got shattered by Katherine’s “taming” in Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew.

I got so engrossed in the challenge that I no longer simply borrow classic books from friends. I have started collecting. Just last night, I bought a copy of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility and Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations. And yesterday afternoon, Ellen gave me a copy of Shakespeare’s Much Ado about Nothing as a Christmas present.

So I am glad I made that challenge for myself. Not only was I able to conquer my “allergy” toward “Old English” but I also discovered a world beyond my turf. Now, I can say classics aren’t really so bad; thanks to Tayns and Salve for their encouragement. It took me quite some time before I got “infected” with their “afflictions,” but I’m glad I eventually managed to develop this “classic disorder.”



*One might ask how I fared in the non-classics. I am happy to say I was able to finish all the titles I listed — and more. I also enjoyed all the courtroom dramas in John Grisham’s The Pelican Brief, The Client, The Partner, The Chamber, The Runaway Jury and The Brethren; and a lot more (list to follow).

But while I did well in the non-classics and read most of the classics I dared require myself to finish, I must admit there were classic titles I failed to read: Jane Austen’s Emma and Mark Twain’s The Prince and the Pauper simply because I don’t yet have a copy of said works; and Milton’s Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained, which I did try to read, but did not quite finish, it being a poem and poem being not a favorite read of mine. I also have a copy of Ferdinand Marcos’ The New Society (it was my mom’s and it's not in the list) but I did not even touch it, politics (which I hate) being its theme.

So I guess I both lost and won the challenge. And that means I can — and will — buy the white gold necklace I’ve been wanting for myself. That is, if it’s still there. As for treating my friends to lunch or dinner, I don’t think there would be any problem with that. Anyway, it's Christmas.

** Just in case there are those who are thinking that my claims — that I am very busy and that I have read all these things — are conflicting, here’s the explanation: I always bring a book wherever I go. I read while waiting, while cueing and while traveling. I am such an impatient person that I always need to be doing something, lest I’d be very annoyed, especially when the person I’m supposed to meet don’t come on time. So bringing a book with me is like shooting two birds with one stone — it lets me cope with my reading program and helps prevent my temper from flaring when someone doesn't come close to my expectations.

Beads and anik-aniks

If I weren't a fulltime employee and student, there is another thing I would be very busy in — and that is, creating accessories and trinkets.

Yup my dears. If only I had a lot of time to spare, I'd be having a love affair with those cute little things I love so much — beads, especially crystals. No, let me correct myself. I'd be going back to the old relationship I had with these anik-aniks which I had to let go when my other lives (work and studies) started to demand for more attention.

There's something about beads that thugs at my sense of style and fashion, so that whenever I see beautiful accessories, I think not of rushing to where the wearer bought them, but of creating one myself, not completely copying what's in the market, but adding tweaks into my creation, so that my accessories will have something different from what buy-only fashion buffs don.

Creating necklaces, earrings, bracelets and cellphone bling-blings is actually one of the things I planned to do this Christmas break. But realizing it may not be possible, I sacrificed one night to create some accessories for myself. And I'm quite happy with the things I was able to create that night, a pair of which I donned for my co-hosting stint in our company's TV program. I wish I'd be able to create some more, and give them as presents to my friends (except Salve and Tayns who, like myself, also make their own accessories) and female cousins. But I guess I may have to rush to the malls instead, and buy them something else.

Ah, Time. Must we always be out of synch? What have I done that made you hate me so?

GMM launches Saluyot

Gumil Metro Manila launched Saluyot, the association's newsletter, during its 40th Anniversary celebration held on December 10, 2006 at Child Jesus College in Bagong Silang, Caloocan City.

You may access the newletter by clicking this link:

Saluyot

Not a Good Cook

I'm not a good cook, and the kitchen,
Except during meals, is the last place I’d be seen in.
But lately, not only do I hum, albeit out of tune
but I’ve also dared put on the apron
And the vegetables, the freshest from my father’s crop
I gathered and carefully peeled and chopped
and cooked, praying they’d be miraculously alright.
I smiled, and before you, I set my specialty
And offered it to you, nervously, humbly
But you were already full, you told me
So you had to decline, saying you were sorry.

Oh, I know what you’d have said had you tasted it
You’d have told me it was the best meal you’ve ever had
And I’m sure you would have meant it
Though we’d both know it’d be far from the truth.
I would have smiled and said, ‘Thank you’
and my heart would have done a somersault.
But still, on the table, the food lay untouched
And I lowered my eyes, careful not to show my pout
It would not have mattered, it would not have hurt
It would not have meant that much
Had the food I offered you hadn’t been my heart.

I’m not a good cook, but I sure tried!


Copyright Sherma Espino Benosa
November 18, 2002

A peek into what I'm writing right now...

Just the intro, okay? There may be some grammatical errors, but hey, it's just a draft and the article's not even finished. So, ganun talaga. Besides, if I can think of a better intro, this part may not see print at all.

Here we go...



THE PUFFING HABIT
Why people get into smoking, the health and economic burden of the habit, and tips to break it
By Sherma E. Benosa


Advertisements portray cigarettes as hip, and being seen flipping a stick between fingers or puffing one as ‘cool.’

But what advertisements don’t show are the gory effects this “hip” habit has upon the body. They fail to show that not only is cigarette smoking linked to virtually every chronic illness known to man, but more importantly, that it is the second major cause of death in the world. And so we see people in almost every corner and from all walks of life flicking and puffing those slim sticks, paradoxically, as if their lives depended upon them.


The Very First Puff

The temptation to start smoking can be likened to the very first sin, with advertisements and other tempters representing Eve and the snake; the cigarette stick representing the forbidden fruit; and the would-be smokers representing Adam.

And just as the snake used enlightenment to tempt Eve, so do advertisers link smoking to such sought-after virtues or state as sophistication, good life, success, independence, fun, and nonconformity to lure the gullible public — most often the teen-agers — to their very first stick. And to make its sales pitch more effective, the snake has made a tremendous transformation — from its slimy form to sophisticated and beautiful models, making the temptation even more difficult to resist.

But just as Adam’s very first bite into the forbidden fruit got him and Eve banished from the Garden of Eden and eternally condemned, so can the would-be smoker’s very first puff banish his or her health, and get him or her hooked into the puffing habit, which he or she will soon have to fight off — perhaps for several years, perhaps for life.

For there is something about the first puff that can get most try-only smokers hooked, so that what could have been simply a trial puff or even a social smoking can turn into an unbreakable habit. According to a study by University College of London researchers published in the journal Tobacco Control, if an 11-year old child smokes even just one cigarette, the urge to smoke stays within that child for three years, significantly raising his or her chances of becoming a regular smoker.

This finding is a cause for alarm. According to 2003 data from the US National Institutes of Health (US-NIH), the average age at first use among people 12 years and older is 15.4; among 12- to 17-year-olds, 12.3; and among 18- to 25-year-olds, 14.7. US-NIH adds that the younger a person starts smoking, the more likely he or she is to become addicted; and the more years he or she smokes, the greater are his or her risks of developing smoking-related diseases.


The Forbidden Stick



Oooooooopppppsssss... Sowi, you can read no further. He he he...

Christmas break 2006

This week marks the end of my hectic schedule, as far as my studies are concerned. No, make that as far as attending classes is concerned. For while it’s true that my professors in all of my subjects decided to give us an early break, they gave us loads of assignment, all to be submitted on the first week of classes next month. Talk about starting the New Year with a bang.

And how about ending 2006 with a loud thump, too? It seems like my professors are in on a conspiracy to make our temporary separation as eventful as possible. How? By giving surprise examinations. My head is still spinning from the tests I went through last week, all of which unannounced. My head would have been empty by now, I having unloaded tons of my precious thoughts and logic onto my test papers, if only I could afford to be empty headed even just for a while. But as it is, I have to save some of my “brain matters” for our magazine pages, which I would be more than happy not to see for a while.

But either I have been a bad girl, or Santa isn’t real, that my simple wish of having a break — I mean, a real break — from both my studies and the magazine is not to be granted. This Christmas break, while I am writing the first chapter of my research in EDRE 231; my critique of Jean Jacques Rousseau’s “The Philosophy of Education” for EDFD 201; and my annotated bibliography, critique on three articles on language education, written report, and 250-item questions for EDL 251; I will also be editing and writing articles for the magazine, and figuring out how I can possibly make our February issue come out on time, despite the long vacation.

So it seems I won't be having any break this Christmas. That is, unless they have changed the definition of the word without me knowing it. Let me go and check.

H&L Team on TV

My team and I watched the DVD copy of our TV guesting on November 24 upon my arrival in the office this morning. I don’t understand but it seems so kaloka watching yourself on the boob tube. My two writers who “guested” with me and I think that we looked and sounded so corny. Ms. Rina, an officemate who will start co-hosting the show next week, said I am telegenic. I think she’s wrong. However, I think I sounded nice, which is actually a surprise for me because I’ve always thought my voice is like a child’s.


Ah, never mind. We might have looked and sounded weird on the show, but TV guesting is one heck of an experience. We enjoyed it so much that when we were asked to go back, we replied, “Sige po, iyeskedyul n’yo lang.” That’s a far cry from our original response of “No way!” when the idea of us guesting on our TV program was first brought up.


//I wonder what my family would say when I bring home the DVD for them to watch this Christmas break, besides condemning me for not telling them I'd be on TV so they could have watched me live. Hmmmm...

The wall decor

“Jing, be careful that you don’t step on the décor,” mother warned, referring to the glass décor she laid on the floor about three meters from where I was playing. “It might break.”

“Ok mom.” I wondered if it would indeed break.

I resumed my playing. But soon, my curiosity as to whether the decor would indeed break if I stepped on it got over me, that I decided to find out if it was true. Making sure mom was still busy cleaning the walls, I sneaked into the décor and stepped onto it, half expecting to hear a cracking sound.

Nothing.

Mom’s lying! I told myself. It didn’t break!

I went back to playing. But then another thought troubled me. Was mom really lying? But why? What if I just did not step on it hard enough?

I went back to the décor to try it one more time.

I stepped onto the forbidden object. One foot first. Nothing happened.

Two feet.

CRRRRRAAAAAAAACCKKKK!


“Oh you! I told you not to go near it.” Mom shrieked.

“Sorry mom.” I said.

She didn’t know it wasn’t for the broken décor but for something else that I was apologizing.

Missing Tayns

Salve and I joked about going places and doing stuff when Tayns has left. We joked about not missing her at all when she’s already in Japan, frying her brains figuring out the pro-forms of the Japanese language. But everything we said to this effect was just that — a joke.

Now, barely two months since she left, we are already missing her… the girl whose smile can brighten up a room.

It’s not easy when one of your best friends is miles away. Our only consolation is that she is there living her dream. It’s not everyday that you get bestowed with a scholarship… by the Japanese embassy, no less.

Makahiya… pretending

I touched the young makahiya (Mimosa pudica L) plant in my mom’s garden and, as expected, its leaves folded. Pleased like a child, I looked for other “victims” to touch. I saw three nearby, which I touched one after the other.

Again, I looked for some more, and there, near the potted peach euphorbia, were two makahiya sprouts. I moved closer and laid my killer touch upon them.

Neither budged. My brows creased. Puzzled, I looked closer. As I examined them I realized they weren’t really makahiya plants… just pretending.

Disappointed, I uprooted the “imposters,” thinking to myself that some people are like those con makahiyas; they are so good at pretending they seem real. So much so that it often needs cunning and takes some time before one can figure their game.

Ah. Why can’t some people just be themselves? Why do they need to pretend to be who they are not?

Sense of belonging...

I blended well. In my jeans. Amazing!

I’m talking about last night. We got invited to Sen. Ed Angara’s book launching. Or, to be technically correct, to the launching of Sen. Angara’s biography written by Nick Joaquin — one of his last works before he died. And to be more correct still, the invitations were actually for our editor-in-chief, Doc Raffy, and contributing editor, Ms. Roselle who wrote the article on Senator Angara for last month’s cover feature. But Doc Raffy is in Chicago and Ms. Roselle is in Singapore.

We were working on tight schedule. Up until last night, I was still writing an article for the magazine. But it was imperative that someone from our team would attend the event. I knew it had to be me and Chie. So we went, an hour late (Geee, they started an hour late, too, so it seemed we arrived just in time. He he.)

It was a political-social event, that much I knew. I had expected many dignitaries to be there. I was not wrong. There were GMA, Sen. Villar, Cong. Joe de V., and many others.

But I was wrong for thinking that I would not feel okay being in a politician-dominated event. I felt alright. In fact, I felt I belonged, despite the facts that I was not properly dressed for the occasion and, more importantly, that I hate politics, and politicians aren’t my favorite hang-out buddies.

Name Game: The Case of the Philippine National Language

Throughout the course of history, the Philippine national language changed its identity, not just once but twice. Originally, it was called “Tagalog.” Then it was renamed “Pilipino.” Now it is known as “Filipino.”

But why the name change? What was achieved by this “name game”? To answer these questions, let us explore the history of our national language.


Prior to 1935 Philippine Constitution

Prior to the promulgation of the 1935 Constitution, the official languages of the Philippines were English and Spanish (both non-Philippine languages). Quite remarkable is the fact that no Philippine language was of official standing — no legal standing in the courts, government transactions, education, commerce, and industry — during this period.


Language provision of the 1935 Philippine Constitution

Article XIII Section 3 (Pasimio, 1991:119)
The National Assembly shall take steps toward the development and adoption of a common language based on one of the existing native languages (emphasis mine). Until otherwise provided by law, English and Spanish shall continue as official languages.

In accordance with the provision on the Constitution, a body was formed “to make a general study of Philippine dialects (languages)1 for the purpose of evolving a common national language based on one of the existing native tongues and to recommend to the president of the Commonwealth (Manuel L. Quezon) its adoption as such” (SIL, 1971). This body was known as the Institute of National Language (INL).

A year after its creation, the INL recommended Tagalog as the basis of the national language from among the languages studied. This recommendation was based on (among other things) number of speakers and periodicals and the status of Tagalog as the language spoken in Manila — the most populous city in the country and the seat of government and major universities.

Studies conducted separately from, some even prior to, that of the INL showed that Tagalog had a great potential of becoming a national language. American linguist, Conant Everett Blake (Philippine literature p.457, 1908) had this to say about the Philippine languages:

Some persons, struck by the great resemblance which the various Philippine languages bear to one another, have thought that it would be possible to fuse these languages into one, but such an artificial scheme is certainly impracticable. If the Filipinos are destined ever to have a national language in which a national literature can be written, that language will most surely be Tagalog, the language of the capital city, a language admirably suited by the richness of form and its great flexibility for literary development, and needing but the master hand of some great native writer to make it realize its latent possibilities.


The Language Provision of the 1943 Philippine Constitution

Though it was claimed that Tagalog was simply the “basis” for the national language, there were manifestations that it was, indeed, the national language. Moreover, the Philippine Constitution under the Japanese government, in an attempt to erase Western influences in the country, named Tagalog as such.

Article IX Section 2 (Pasimio, 1991:156)
The government shall take steps toward the development and promotion of Tagalog which is the national language. (Translation mine. Please see the original Tagalog version in Pasimio, 1991:156 or refer to the footnote.)2


Problems with Tagalog

The choice of Tagalog as the basis of national language did not go unchallenged. In fact, this issue had divided the nation. Critics interpreted it as a form of discrimination against non-Tagalog speakers. Regional groups also contested the claim that Tagalog was the most widely spoken among the Philippine languages. They cited Cebuano as having the most number of speakers, with Tagalog coming only next.

Figures in the 1949 census showed that Cebuano indeed had more native speakers. However, Tagalog had both native and a significant number of nonnative speakers, making it the most widely spoken Philippine language.


Name Change: Tagalog to Pilipino

Realizing the division among ethnolinguistic groups caused by the adoption of Tagalog as national language, the name Tagalog was changed to Pilipino in 1959. However, this name change did not effectively eradicate the ethnolinguistic divide the choice of Tagalog as “basis” for the national language had created. To the contrary, this only heightened the tension. Different groups viewed this change as an attempt to mask the fact that both Tagalog and Pilipino referred to the same living language — Tagalog. Critics insisted that the only difference between Tagalog and Pilipino was sociological.

It then became apparent that more than just a name change was necessary.


Language Provision of the 1973 Philippine Constitution

Article XV Section 3 (Pasimio, 1991:273)
(2) The National Assembly shall take steps toward the development and formal adoption of a common national language to be known as Filipino.
(3) Until otherwise provided by law, English and Pilipino shall be the official languages.

Studying the provision closely, one might say that the Filipino mentioned in the Constitution that was to become the national language was still technically nonexistent and that it was not apparent what the basis of this language would be. Moreover, one might ask what to become of Pilipino, which, from being a national language, was appointed “official language.”

What is this Filipino being referred to? How is it similar to or different from Tagalog and Pilipino?

Even the language experts themselves had opposing views on what Filipino is. Some sectors believed that the Filipino mentioned in the Constitution was the purist Tagalog/Pilipino that was already in use while others believed that this Filipino was still to be created.

Those who believed that Filipino was still nonexistent were further divided into two groups: the group of Dr. Demetrio Quirino and that of Dr. Ernesto Constantino of the University of the Philippines.

Dr. Demetrio Quirino and his group proposed that this Filipino to be created be based on all the existing Philippine languages and that the percentage of contribution from each language be based on the number of speakers. They also proposed that complete amalgamation or mixing of linguistic components—phonology, morphology, syntax, and vocabulary—from these languages be applied and that only 30% of Tagalog elements shall make up the Filipino to be created. The remaining 70% shall come from all the other Philippine languages.

The group of Dr. Constantino, on the other hand, proposed using the universal approach. This approach means that the Filipino to be created shall be based on a national lingua franca plus other languages (multi-based). This is, in part, similar to the Filipino of Dr. Quirino except on the concept of complete amalgamation where the linguistic contribution of each language is determined by the number of speakers.

INL, however, denied the claims of different sectors that the Filipino being spoken of in the Constitution was the purist Tagalog/Pilipino or that it was still to be created. INL claimed that this Filipino was already in existence—that it was the Filipino that was based on Pilipino which, in turn, was based on Tagalog. It is “an evolution of Tagalog, a conglomeration of Philippine and nonnative languages.”

In his analysis of several issues on language development presented as appendix in the SWP 50th anniversary publication (1987), SWP Director Ponciano B.P. Pineda reiterated the institute’s stand against the Filipino proposed by Drs. Quirino and Constantino.

…the following questions arise: How much, and which parts of speech of a particular language should be taken? Must all the peculiarities of the sounds, stresses, and intonations in each language be included? Or must others be sacrificed for the preferred ones? Which of the opposing affixation systems—Tagalog, Cebuano, Ilokano, Pampango, for instance—should be adopted? …

Such kind of language has no root; no speech community to speak of. It has neither rhetoric (n)or idiom; no literature. Filipino born out of this system of language engineering has no culture. It is doomed to fail like Esperanto, Volapuk, and other artificial languages.


The Language Provision of the 1987 Philippine Constitution

Article XIV Section 6: (Pasimio, 1991:409)
The national language of the Philippines is Filipino. As it evolves, it shall be further developed and enriched on the basis of existing Philippine and other languages.

Apparently, the Constitution still had not exactly defined the Filipino which is now the national language of the country. However, the language committee of the Constitutional commission, during one of their sessions (September 10, 1986), made this definition:

“…the nucleus of the Filipino will be Pilipino with the mixture of words from other dialects and said Filipino language has already been existing as lingua franca… Filipino is the expansion of Pilipino and it is the lingua franca that has naturally evolved throughout the country, based on Tagalog and other Philippine languages and foreign languages.”

So what is Filipino? It is the Philippine language whose nucleus is Tagalog, characterized by massive borrowings of lexical items from Philippine and non-Philippine languages. It is different from Tagalog in that it is permeable to foreign words and from Taglish in that it follows the structure of Tagalog, its nucleus. Taglish, according to SWP and Linguistic Society of the Philippines, is merely a “variation” of (spoken) Filipino. [seb/2003]



Footnote

1 Though the words language and dialect are technically different, these terms are used interchangeably in this paper because some of the materials I directly quoted used these terms interchangeably.
2 Ang pamahalaan ay gagawa ng mga hakbanging tungo sa ikauunlad at ikalalaganap ng Tagalog na siyang wikang pambansa. (Pasimio:1991:156)


Bibliography

Books/Published Articles

Espiritu, Clemencia. Language Policies in the Philippines.

Pasimio, Renato R. 1991. The Philippine Constitution (Its Evolution and Development) and Political Science. Metro Manila: National Book Store, Inc.

Summer Institute of Linguistics. 1971. Fifty Most Frequently Asked Questions About the National Language.

Surian ng Wikang Pambansa. 1987. Limampung Taon ng SWP. Manila: SWP.
­

Unpublished Research Work

Benosa, Sherma E. and Mary Kathleen de Fiesta. 1997. Ang Nasyonal Langgwej (A paper submitted to the Department of Linguistics, UP Diliman in partial fulfillment of the requirements of Linguistics 130)


Decrees

Executive Order No. 136. 1937. Proclaiming the National Language of the Philippines Based on the “Tagalog” Language. (Manuel L. Quezon, President of the Philippines, Dated December 30, 1937).

Philippine Commonwealth Act No. 184. 1936. An Act to Establish a National Language Institute and Define its Powers and Duties. (First National Assembly, Special Session, November 30, 1936).


Copyright 2003 Sherma E Benosa

Standardization of Iluko Spelling

I know this entry could get me shot and lambasted, because, for some reason, the topic is quite sensitive. I had considered keeping mum about it — I had thought it’s safer that way — but I eventually decided against staying silent, for to keep quiet when there is something that needs to be said is cowardice and, in some occasions, may be dangerous. As I am not a coward and, more importantly, because zipping up my lips would be an act unbecoming of a naturally talkative and opinionated person like myself, I am finally offering my humble opinion on the subject.

The issue I’m talking about is Iluko Standardization (spelling).

In my socio-linguistics class last semester, I proposed Iluko Standardization (spelling) as the focus of my research. I wanted to evaluate the orthography of different iluko publications, determine their differences, and hopefully recommend, based on some categories I would later design, which of these spelling systems could be used as standard.

By standard, I mean, the form to be adapted in publication and formal written communications. Designating a form as standard does not in any way mean that the other forms are “substandard” or inferior. It only means that the standard form is more widely used or accepted for business transactions and formal communications.

As the issue of spelling in any language is rather “hot,” I did not have a hard time convincing my professor of the merits of the study. And having been given the go signal to work on it, I embarked on researching the existing Iluko publications, with the help of my father. I had even asked Dad to help me set up appointments with the editors, some of whom he personally knew; and I likewise made preliminary arrangements in my schedule, in anticipation of several travels I thought I was going to make (to Regions 1, 2, and CAR) to meet with the editors.

My and my father's preliminary efforts, however, yielded the following information:
· Rimat, which spelled several words differently, had already folded up, enabling Bannawag to maintain its status as the most-read Iluko publication.
· Most, if not all, books published by GUMIL follow Bannawag spelling.
· A bible using Bannawag spelling is under way.
· The papers in NV (I didn’t get to check the Iluko papers in other Iluko-speaking provinces) are published and/or edited by Bannawag-influenced editors.

With this preliminary information, I went back to my professor and told him I needed to change my topic, because it was already a non-issue. I believe that there is already an established Iluko orthography — all but needing formal recognition — and that is Bannawag’s, whether we choose to accept it or not. This is because, where orthography is concerned, it is that form used by the widest circulating publication that prevails.

And while at first I was not quite happy with the situation — quite understandably, I hope — for, after a month of working on my research design, I suddenly found myself without a research problem (as my problem seemed no longer a problem), I think this scenario is actually good for the language, because it means Iluko has come a long way.

As for me, I’ve made another proposal, which luckily was approved outright. And that is, to find how different the Iluko spoken by the NOW generation is to that spoken by their parents and by their grandparents. I’ve noticed that there are forms used by older people that the younger people don’t know about (except those who write in Iluko).*

At first I wanted to do a study of the different forms used in different provinces (dialectal differences) but that is already dialectology, not a socio-linguistic study. Besides, that’s something I can’t finish in three months. Moreover, it would require funding, a lot of help (informants), and time — all of which I don't have at the moment. Sigh!


*[Case in point: My Iluko which, I think, belongs to the now generation (Manang Linda Lingbaoan calls it pop iluko). I find my Iluko very narabaw. This sometimes frustrates the struggling writer in me because I noticed that to many, the mark of a good Iluko work is the use of nauneg or old forms. Old iluko seems elegant. And while I sometimes strive to learn the old forms, the rebel in me resents it. The old form isn’t the Iluko that I grew up with. It’s not the Iluko that I speak. Hence, the moment I write using that form, my writing ceases to reflect me.]

Or may be I just don't have a good grasp of the language — that maybe I am one of those native speakers who somehow are not literate enough to write in their native language?

PUZZLES

PUZZLE 1

It is a six-letter English word, the first three letters of which is the present tense of the next three letters.
Clue: The whole word can be used as a noun, as a verb, or as an adjective.


PUZZLE 2

It is an 11-letter English word.

The first two letters refer to a preposition indicating inclusion, location, or position within limits.

Letters 3 to 5 refer to a three-letter preposition/conjunction.

Letters 6 to 8 refer to a piece of material placed at a door for wiping soiled shoe soles.

Letters 9 to 11 refer to a charged subatomic particle.


PUZZLE 3

It's an 11-letter compound English word.

The meaning of the first word (first five letters) is almost the opposite of that of the second word (letters 6-11). [I used the word ALMOST because the first word in the compound is a verb whereas the second is a noun].

The whole word refers to the person who does the action referred to by the first word without regard for the concept referred to by the second word.

Note: Puzzles are first posted by the author in VF's blog in iluko.com. Puzzle 1 was answered correctly by Mng. Fred Ilac; Mng. Edmund Salvador gave the correct answer for puzzle 2. No one was able to answer puzzle 3.

Iluko "works"

II.

Narimat
Nalawag
Ti isip
Kas karimat
Ken kalawag
Ni Apo init
Narimat
Nalawag
Kas karimat
Ken kalawag
Ti isip.

Ti isip
kas
ti init
kas
ti isip.

Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew:

The economics of marriage
and the society's influence on happiness


The shrew…

She was a woman who knew her mind and enjoyed speaking it out. Meek and submissive, she was neither. Her tongue was good at stringing spiteful words; and her mind, as her tongue, was sharp and not easily matched nor bent.

The 21st century would love her and believe in her. Inspired by her, it would teach its sons to respect and admire her, and its daughters to emulate her. Independent and tough, she would be called, and both words would carry a ring of veneration and amazement to them.

But unfortunate, Katherine likewise was, for she was made to live 400 years much too early — at a time not a bit tolerant of her nature, in a story that is sympathetic of her yet intolerant of her ways.

She was an outcast of the society she despised. Everyone likeneed her to an animal to be tamed; and people referred to her as a shrew, and was invariably described as “too rough” (I.i.55) and “stark mad” (I.i.69).

Yet, in retrospect, she might simply be misunderstood by everyone around her — her father who seemed to love her sister more, and the less-witted men that surrounded her.


… and the tamer…

Had he lived today, when the two sexes are viewed as different but equal, he would be deemed egotistical and portentous. A man to be revered, he was not — now, or 400 years ago — with his crass behavior and overbearing attitude, and his not-quite-honorable intentions: first, to marry a wealthy woman to augment his inheritance:

Signor Hortensio, ‘twixt such friends as we
Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know
One rich enough to be Petruccio’s wife—
As wealth is burden of my wooing dance—
Be she as foul as was Florentius’ love,
As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd
As Socrates’ Xanthippe or a worse,
She moves me not—or not removes at least
Affection’s edge in me, were she as rough
As are the swelling Adriatic seas.
I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;
If wealthily, then happily in Padua.
(I.ii.62–73)


then, somehow challenged by reports of the rich man’s daughter’s (Katherine’s) shrewish behavior, to tame her and turn her to a suitable wife.

Katherine: If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
Petruccio: My remedy is then to pluck it out.

Quick-witted he was though, and that proved to be enough to make Katherine submit to his will.


… together…

Their first meeting was hostile, as was the norm with Katherine; and soon they engaged in verbal duel:

Petruccio: Come, come, you wasp, i’faith you are too angry.
Katherine: If I be waspish, best beware my sting.
Petruccio: My remedy is then to pluck it out.
Katherine: Ay, if the fool could find where it lies.
Petruccio: Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail.
Katherine: In his tongue.
Petruccio: Whose tongue?
Katherine: Yours, if you talk of tales, and so farewell.
Petruccio: What, with my tongue in your tail?
(II.i.207–214)

with Katherine throwing insult after insult, and Petruccio turning each of her slurs into sexual innuendo which frustrated her and, at the same time, somehow won her over; or at least, silenced her.


…in a story that made me roar with laughter…

Using a frame within a frame* that consisted of a plot (Katherine and Petruccio) and a subplot (Bianca and Lucentio), the story examines marriage, emphasizing on its economic aspects (how economic factors influences who marries whom); and on the tremendous influence the society has over one’s happiness (how happiness is dependent on everyone playing his or her prescribed role).

Performed on stage**, Petruccio’s way of taming Katherine — showing up late and horribly dressed for their wedding; turning everything against Katherine’s will, ironically, under pretense of concern for her wellbeing; making Katherine agree with everything he said even if she believed otherwise (e.g., making Katherine say that the sun was really the moon); and showing her beautiful dresses but denying her the chance to own them, telling her they weren’t good enough for her — are hilarious. So are the wooing scenes between Bianca and Lutencio.


…while being so confused…

The language of the story is such a challenge to understand, but far challenging to comprehend are some crucial points. What happened to the Christopher Sly frame? Why did Katherine, intelligent and rapier-tongued, uncharacteristically fall silent when Petruccio arrogantly forced her to give her consent to marry him? Was it because he proved he was her equal in wit and in verbal skills? Or was it for something deeper, such as, she had recognized he was her only chance of ever being married?

But if that was so, why then, after the marriage, did she allow herself be treated brutally, giving only the slightest of objections? And finally, how could she have been transformed so easily? Or had she been really?


… then, somehow a little enlightened, laughed no more.

As the story came to an end — with Katherine suddenly becoming well tamed and proper, while her sister turned into a shrew; and, more importantly, with the understanding of just how much influence the society had over one’s life and happiness coming down to mind — the laughter just died down, especially when Katherine gave her sister a piece of her mind:

Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign, one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance commits his body
To painful labour both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe,
And craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks, and true obedience,
Too little payment for so great a debt.
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haply more,
To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husband’s foot,
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready, may it do him ease.

Hearing her speech, I was so stunned, that soon I found myself thinking: “Poor Katherine, she did not at all have a choice." She knew she had to be transformed somehow if she wanted to gain acceptance to the society she despised.

But if indeed she was transformed, then she was a broken woman, because the very essence of who she was — intelligent, independent, and not easily swayed — was destroyed. But if she was just playing along with her husband, having realized that it was the only way she could get what she wanted, she was broken still, for she had locked away her true self, never to resurrect it again.



* Main frame is the Christopher Sly frame. Sly was a tinker who became a subject of a nobleman’s cruel joke. The second frame is the main story, which consists of a plot (Katherine and Petruccio) and a subplot (Bianca and Lucentio).

** The production of The Taming of the Shrew that I saw was that of the Repertory Philippines in 2005 at Greenbelt One.

Lost in the game...

I dreamt I joined a game the rule of which I did not know — a game which, I later found out, was designed to get me — and idiot as I was, I was participating in it willingly… gingerly.

I thought everything was so unfair. But I told myself it was ok; some people could really be so mean. But what I found to be unacceptable was that I was given a partner who vowed to protect me — and he did so by telling me to take care — but deciding against telling me what exactly to watch out for... until it was too late.

Then I woke up, and found the sun was already up. I peeped out of my window. Ah, the storm has passed...

Intro to "Our Responses"

Trials and challenges are what define life, and our responses to them are what define who and what we are. We can fight, and in so doing, we may get scathed, but eventually come out triumphant. Or we may lose, and go home licking our wounds; head bowed and shoulders stooped, wondering how the world could have fallen upon us.

But failure may also be a blessing in disguise. With determination strong enough to try to beat the odds one more time, and a heart in the right place, why, we may be able to stage a comeback in the end. And when that happens, the taste of success might even be sweeter than if we had not first tasted the bitterness of defeat.

For defeat never tasted sweet nor smelled good. It is so bitter that it can send a lot of people wallowing in despair. But still, its bad taste can wane with time; even the darkness of the night surrenders to the light of the sun — when it’s time.

Sooner or later, acceptance will come to our hearts — acceptance of the things that are beyond us, of the things that we cannot change. Then we will begin to see light again. We will dare hope again. And who knows, we may again be able to meet our share of trials and challenges head on, and come home scathed, but with a glitter of triumph in our eyes and a trace of smile upon our lips.


/My introduction to my reading program which I entitled, “Our Responses,” a book-type collection of poems, narratives, short stories, and plays consisting of four chapters. Each chapter consists of 2 poems, 2 narratives, 2 short stories, and 2 plays falling under a certain theme. At the end of every selection in the first chapter is a lesson plan, which includes grammar lessons, teaching strategies and comprehension and discussion questions, among others. The selections were taken from various sources: magazines, local and foreign books and the internet. I’ve read more than 200 articles in the past three months, and chose only 28 for inclusion in the project. The other four materials are mine, all unpublished.

The selection of the materials I included in my reading program is based on how I think we respond to the adversities that come our way. I am of the opinion that there are two ways we respond to trials and challenges: either fight or give in. If we fight, we may either win or lose. But if we choose to give in, we will definitely lose. And having lost, we may wallow in misery forever, or we may eventually come to accept what had been dealt us, and ultimately feel strong enough to give it a try one more time.

Chapter one of the project talks of triumph; chapter two talks of succumbing; chapter three talks of acceptance, and chapter four talks of bouncing back from our loss.

The project is one of the requirements in one of my subjects. I am now in the final stages of the project. I think I'd be able to finish it this week — I should, because I'm on the verge of going crazy. I mean, crazier that usual...

Learning to splash! (almost too late)

I think I may now add a new hobby to my rather short list — swimming.

You figured it right. I used not to swim; or rather, I used not to know how to swim. And that explains why I am (was) not easily tempted by the sight of pools and beaches to strip down to my swim suit. (Come to think of it, I don’t even own a single piece of swimsuit! That may change soon. Haha!)

I had not really thought of learning how to swim. But our brief excursion to Laguna last weekend (Chie, Manong Ricco, Ellen, Jing, Ryan and myself) included swimming in the itinerary. And Chie, a very good swimmer (she swims so well and loves the waters so much that we call her Sirena), was annoyingly persuasive that she got Ellen, also a non-swimmer, and me into the pool. And still not happy with our gliding nor impressed with my try-hard "ballet"-on-water performance, she persuaded us to learn how to swim properly (not like Manong Ricco and Ryan who can swim but can’t really swim, if you know what I mean). She was so persuasive, and deep within me I had also wished I could swim, so I relented. So did Ellen.

I had had several close calls during beach outings in my much-younger days, that’s why I was not so keen to learn to swim. Plus, I’ve always feared I’d simply frustrate my trainer, because I had thought I had low aptitude in the kinesthetic department. But apparently, I had underestimated myself too much. Two one-hour sessions (first was in Laguna, and second was at the Hyatt Casino and Hotel last night) and I learned! I can’t help being pleased with myself. How can I not? I’m twenty-eight years old and I just learned how to swim. Kaloka, di ba? Now, I sort of feel I’ve missed out on some things. Like swimming.

I was so excited last night that getting an apartment with a pool had crossed my mind, but finances are low, so that’s already out of the question. But then, I sometimes get invitations from hotels to try out their facilities and, according to Chie, we can use our boss’ membership in one or two of the hotels nearby, so may be I’ll be able to have more practice. Of course, another option is our (the gang) plan to have outings at least once a month, preferably after every mag issue. This we had thought of doing, when we realized during our excursion that a one-day outing can de-stress us effectively.

So there are a lot of avenues for practice there. But first, I'll have to see if I can show off my “swimming prowess” in Palawan (I’ll be there on the 13th through 18th). I’m sure Celestine will be shocked at what she’ll see.

Hah!

Metamorphosis

Butterfly becomes me...



/Photo taken at the Hill Spa, Laguna.