Marcos Valentin Jr. - 2

On a visit to Cavite City not too long ago, I decided to swing past the Cavite City Hall to check whether the street fronting it still bears the name of my grandfather, Marcos Valentin Jr.

I woudn't be surprised if people didn't know the name of that street. Nobody lives there and there is no one to refer to it as the address of a house or a store. There are no establishments there except for Patio Encarnacion, a restaurant that still exists but which always seems to be closed each time I pass by in the daytime.

Anyway, I did see the street sign. It was blank in front (the side that faced the road), painted white so you don't see the name on it, but at the back, it was there! Marcos Valentin Jr.! Imagine my elation.

The street itself is a wide, tree-lined stretch of road on the side of a park. Around the park is the Land Transporation Office, the City Hall and further down the road is the Philippine Navy base. It's a very short street, and if you were riding a jeepney going to Philippine Navy, you are sure to pass by the street on your way back to the city proper because when the jeepney turns back it passes right in front of the City Hall and then out through Marcos Valentin Jr St.

Habla on Hiatus

My son once asked, "Aren't you going to run out of things to say in your blog?" I don't think so, I said. There was a lot to say, there were plenty of pictures to post and the only problem was the time to sit down, think and write.

Well, this past week and the next didn't leave me much time to sit down, much less think and write (write, at least for this blog). I kept promising myself I was going to finally face my computer, but once I did, I found myself dozing off, after reading a few lines in a book I was holding. Horrors! I'm getting old!

Actually work got in the way of blogging. I remembered that I had to earn a living. And then there are also other family matters that are demanding attention, which means I will have to leave this blog as is for the moment, with only occasional posts, if time allows.

Kung Hei Fat Choi!

Happy Chinese New Year to all! In honor of our Chinese forebears and the Chinese blood running in us, though much diluted, let's welcome the Year of the Pig and drive away the bad spirits and memories from the past year. Kung Hei Fat Choi! Please pass the yummy Ho-Land Hopia!

Ta quida vieja ya

Ta quida vieja ya talaga yo. Ya pasa dos birthday na pamilya ni no man lang yo abla nada, ni ha, ni ho.

Di quel Valentine's day, birthday de mi prima Leni. Cute na cute eli na litrato, chiquitung chiquito pa, di quel ya quida niso sagalista na ung piesta del Nuestra Señora de Guia na Ermita Church. (Censored aqui si cuanto año ya eli ora! No pa naman lampas na numero del lotto, pero cerca ya!).

Alcabal, di quel February 15, birthday naman de mi sobrino Charles. Ta quida ilos na Zamboanga kaya sabing sabi platika Chabacano esi. Ya saca el litrato de Charles di quel pascua 2005, cuando ya tini niso como reunion y ya celebra niso el wedding anniversary de niso Daddy y Mommy. Brasao con Charles aquel primo di eli Justin. Pero ya quita ya yo el otro genti na litrato para haci focus niso con Charles. Hijao de mio esi, ya olvido yo! Naku, masyao deliquente el ninang!

Asiong's

Like all other towns and cities in the Philippines, Cavite City hasn't been spared the invasion of the big fast-food chains. McDonald's, Jollibee and Chowking are all there and raking it in. But just how many burgers, fries and dimsum can Caviteños take?

Good thing there's still home-style cooking available, thanks to Asiong's restaurant, which has been around for as long as I can remember. I keep forgetting the street it's on, but I'll never lose my way going there. I just know it's somewhere between what was once Cine Maria and Lopez Jaena St. Or thereabouts.

Asiong's hasn't changed at all. Inside it still looks like a carinderia, with formica tables and checkered green wall paper that seems to have been there for ages. The food is still lined behind the glass counter and you just point to the food, turo-turo style.

Asiong's can give the bigger restaurants a run for their money, and my real favorite there is their fried chicken, which can stand up to Max's anytime. They also have their unique pork chops whose taste you can't find elsewhere. One time, the lady behind the counter (the owner's daughter?) offered us a new dish--shrimp croquettes--and they tasted really good, though I haven't seen those reappear in my succeeding visits to Asiong's.

Asiong's has that homey feeling that helps customers relax, especially after braving the tangled highways from Metro Manila to Cavite City. Que sabroso!

The optimist's view

Is Chabacano a dying language in Cavite City?

Prof. Emmanuel Luis Romanillos doesn't think so. In his book Chabacano Studies: Essays on Cavite's Chabacano Language and Literature, Romanillos says it won't entirely disappear. "It is still the prevailing language in the privacy of Cavite homes," he points out, and there are still native speakers scattered all over the archipelago and abroad.

That, plus the fact that scholars are writing books on Chabacano, Romanillos among them, is proof that it is here to stay a little longer.

That's an optimistic view, and the professor says so. Others may disagree. But what makes the book valuable and commendable is that it documents Chabacano literature, shines the spotlight on Chabacano poets and writers, and presents interesting facts. For example, the 1995 census found that only 400,000 Filipinos spoke Chabacano as their mother tongue. Of this number, some 300,000 were Zamboangueños while only 34,000 were from Cavite City. The rest were from Ternate, Cotabato and Davao.

Actually, Romanillos says, the numbers have vastly improved from the 1990 census which counted only 292,000 Filipinos who spoke Chabacano as their mother tongue.

Well considering that there are now 84 million Filipinos, the number of Chabacano speakers--whether 292,000 or 400,000--is still a tiny fraction of the population.

At any rate, reading Romanillos will be a worthwhile undertaking. Romanillos, incidentally, is an associate professor at the Department of European Languages of the University of the Philippines. His book was published by the Cavite Historical Society and printed by the Kayumanggi Press. Readers in Metro Manila may inquire at the Kayumanggi Press office (02) 372-5094 if you want to know where you can get hold of copies.

Valentine's date

Este dos el pirmi ta si date di quel, cuanto año ya pasao. Guapang guapa el muchacha. Y el hombre simpatico talaga! Joven na joven, plakong plako pa. Ya saca este letrato na Cavite City, di quel ta quida pa nisos na ung apartment na kalye Zulueta. El dueño del casa di nisos Ñora Yay, el marido di eli Ñol Tilano. Tiene ilos tienda na kalye Lopez Jaena. El casa di nisos cercang cerca na monumento del Trece Martires. Tiene yo litrato del monumento aqui abaho di esti blog.

Valentine

On the pages of the family's Onoffree Album are pictures taken one Valentine's Day around 40 years ago.

The little girls were made to dress in identical red-and-white frocks with hearts stitched on their chests. Those were the days when ready-to-wear clothing was unheard of, women wore dresses, not jeans, and they had their clothes sewn by a modista or a costurera. Little girls wore flat, closed shoes with socks, and it would have been unthinkable for them to wear anything with little heels the way little girls do now. Those were also the days of really big hair (altho none in this picture), teased and fluffed up with spray net. For little girls, it was common to have their hair tied fountain-style which made them look like they had palm trees or helicopter propellers on top of their heads.

Anyway, I thought of this picture, taken in a house where Chabacano was spoken, while remembering Chabacano days on V-day.

Bambi Harper on Chabacano

I had totally forgotten this but two years ago, I sent our family e-group this piece written by Bambi Harper, Philippine Daily Inquirer columnist, on Chabacano. The article was published February 19, 2005. Thankfully, my Uncle Bobby kept his electronic copy and sent it back.

Sense and Sensibility : Chabacano
By Bambi Harper
Inquirer News Service


MAYBE you have gotten tired of my Muslims (someone was complaining about all those names, although that's probably the way they sounded to Capt. Thomas Forrest 300 years ago). So for a change of pace, a friend downloaded some articles from the Net and e-mailed them to me. They deal with a language seldom heard these days, especially in Ermita where it has virtually disappeared. It is also spoken in Cavite and Zamboanga, but with the demographics taking place it may well be another piece of heritage that may not survive. It may surprise you to know (it did me) that it was spoken as well in Binondo, Paco and Trozo (where my maternal grandfather came from). The language is also found, it seems, in Davao and Cotabato and may even exist in Sabah! According to a 2000 census, a total of 210,000 people speak Caviteño and Ternateño.

Godofredo Samonte of Cavite City tells us that Chabacano came into existence when migrating Spaniards settled in Ternate, Cavite, Ermita in Manila and Zamboanga and married native women. In an effort to understand each other, Spaniards tried to learn Tagalog while the Filipinas mixed Tagalog with Spanish. Samonte states that Chabacano's origin was a mispronunciation of Spanish words as in "Bini tu aqui" which comes from "Ven aqui" or "Vente aqui" (Come here). The Spanish "De donde vienes?" (Where do you come from?) becomes in Caviteño or Ternateño "Donde tu ya bini?"

It is possible though that the Caviteños learned it from the Mardicas, 200 of whom were brought over from Ternate in the Moluccas and first settled in the Ermita for around 50 years. In 1700, they were relocated to Maragondon, Cavite facing Manila Bay where they christened their new home Ternate after their old homeland.

In 1641, the Spaniards established a shipbuilding yard in Cavite and in time this became an important naval base. It was from here that the city of Cavite developed and it is entirely possible that the Mardicas sought work in the naval yard thus propagating their language.

A very charming example of the metaphoric quality of Chabacano is this example: "Ta sali ya el prusision" sounds like it means the procession is leaving, but it
means the rice in the pot is already boiling. Or "Cumi uno buta dos" referring to eating shell fish since you eat the meat and throw away the shell, "thus the
expression, eat one and throw away two."

You also had a mixture of two languages as in "Tu un daldalero" from the Tagalog daldal ("talkative").

If Chabacano once was a mixture of Spanish and Tagalog, today American English has also been added as in "Absent eli na lecture ayel." Obviously "absent" and "lecture" are English, demonstrating that Chabacano is still a growing language, absorbing new words.

What you also might find intriguing are the prayers Samonte gives us in Oracion Chabacana. The Sign of the Cross is El Señal del Sta. Cruz - Na nombre del Tata,
y del Hijo, y del Espiritu Santo. And Our Father is El Reso del Señor (literally The Lord's Prayer), which goes:

Niso Tata Qui ta na cielo:
Quida santificao Tu nombre;
Manda vini con niso Tu reino;
Sigui el qui quiere Tu aqui na tierra igual como na
cielo! Dali con niso ahora, niso comida para todo el
dia; Perdona el mga culpa di niso, si quilaya ta
perdona niso con aquel mga qui tiene culpa con niso;
No dija qui cai niso na tentacion, pero salva con
niso na malo.

Then we have the Hail Mary or El Saludo del Angel con Maria (The Angel's Greeting to Mary):

Ta saluda yo contigo,Maria,
quida alegre tu! Lleno tu di gracia! El Senor
ta alli contigo! Bendito tu mas di todo el mga mujer,
y bendito rin tu Hijo Jesus!
Sta. Maria, Nana di Dios: Riza para
niso, el mga qui tiene culpa, ahora y na hora di
niso muerte.
El Gloria con el Santisima Trinidad -
Gloria con El Tata, y con el Hijo, y con el Espiritu
Santo.
Igual como na principio,
ansina ahora y para todo El tiempo.

Finally here are Spanish words that have been adopted into Tagalog or Chabacano but whose meanings have changed:

Ya (Chavacano) denotes past tense. (In Spanish, ya
means "already.") "Donde andas?" (Chavacano) means
"Where are you going?" (In Spanish, anda means "to
walk or operate.") Siguro means "maybe." (In Spanish
seguro means "sure, secure, stable.") Syempre means
"of course." (The Spanish siempre means "always.")
Pirmi (Tagalog, Visayan, Chavacano) means "always."
(The Spanish firme means "firm, steady.") Basta means
"as long as." (In Spanish basta means "enough.")
Maske/maski means "even if." (The Spanish mas que
means "more than.") Kubeta means "toilet/outhouse."
(The Spanish cubeta means "bucket.") Casilyas
(Visayan, Chavacano) means "toilet/toilet seat/to
shit." (The Spanish casillas means "chess squares,
hut, cabin.") Lamierda/lamyerda means "paint the town
red." (The Spanish la mierda means "shit, excrement.")
Puto means "a rice cake." (The Spanish puto means "a
male prostitute.") Baho means "pungent or smelly."
(The Spanish bajo means "descend, below.") Sabi means
"to say." (The Spanish saber means "to know.") Barkada
means "group or friends." (The Spanish barcada means
"boatload.") Sugal means "gambling." (The Spanish
jugar means "to play"). Mamon means "fluffy bread."
(The Spanish mamon means "a woman's large breast.")
Pera means "money." (The Spanish perra means "silver
coin.")

Do you know the way to Cavite?

That's the question Gloria Macapagal Arroyo seems to be answering in this billboard standing along Coastal Road as vehicles enter Cavite province. With apologies to Burt Bacharach: Do you know the way to Cavite/I've been away so long/I may go wrong and lose my way.

In the billboard, GMA is pointing to the Manila-Cavite Coastal Road extension. It is as yet non-existent but when you pass by that area, you'll see that there appears to be the beginnings of what looks like a dirt road and other signs of reclamation work being started off Coastal Road.

When I was a child in the 1960s, the adults in our family were already talking about government's plans to extend Roxas Boulevard from Manila to Cavite. It wasn't until 1984, nearly two decades later, that government opened Coastal Road which technically stops outside Cavite, at Las Piñas. When will they finally build more stretches of road to the other parts of Cavite, and ultimately, Cavite City? Will it be before GMA's term finishes in 2010? Will GMA last till then?

Carganti talaga mira el cara de esi mujer esi na Coastal Road. Calienteng caliente ya nga, ta suda ya niso, de mira pa niso el cara de esi. Hay naku, no ma ya nga yo de retira na Cavite hasta no ilos quita esi billboard!

Buhos - 2

After reading my earlier post on the buhos system in Bacoor, my son hastens to point out that there's another cause of traffic at the end of Coastal Road. This is the bottleneck brought about the four-lane highway shrinking to two lanes as it approaches Barangay Talaba in Bacoor.

He says Coastal Road accommodates the huge volume of traffic into and out of Cavite, as do the province's main highways--Aguinaldo and Tirona Highway--all of them wide enough. He thinks the problem starts when Coastal Road begins to turn (curving twice) into Bacoor. When the road curves, it shrinks and accommodates only two lanes of vehicles each side, which means that vehicles inevitably have to slow down as they squeeze into Cavite Province.

Que horror! Que barbaridad! How much longer will Caviteños suffer this miserable state of affairs?

Buhos (or the Bacoor Traffic Nightmare)

Anyone who has traveled from Manila to Cavite via Coastal Road knows what an ordeal that can be.

The traffic build up starts toward the end of Coastal Road (which is an extension of Roxas Boulevard) as it curves toward Bacoor, Cavite's northernmost town. It is at that point that vehicles grind to a halt and commence the crawl into Cavite at a pace that seems slower than a snail's, at its worst.

Why the build up? Those who pass through these parts know that the local government of Bacoor has been implementing the "buhos" system of traffic management at key intersections and at certain times of day.

What the buhos system means is that, for example, vehicles in the Cavite-bound lane all stop while those in the Manila-bound lane go. It's just like waiting for a traffic light to turn green. Except that the wait can last for 15 or even 30 minutes, as if the traffic enforcers want to empty the highway of Manila-bound cars, hence the term buhos. (Buhos is Tagalog for "pour.") The waiting time, if you're going into Cavite in the morning on a weekday, is longer because the buhos is in favor of Manila-bound vehicles.

I guess it's less of a hassle if you're sitting in an air-conditioned car with no time constraints. Just imagine what an ordeal it is to those who ride jeepneys or baby buses (no aircon) and need to rush to their destinations.

Traffic is extremely heavy where two major highways meet, such as the crossing of Aguinaldo Highway (the one going to Tagaytay) and Tirona Highway (the one going to Cavite City). And the buhos, even if you're in a Manila-bound vehicle, takes ages. I remember riding a Saulog bus traveling from Cavite City to Metro Manila one early morning some months ago. When it reached the intersection of SM Bacoor, the bus stopped and did not move again for 30 minutes, while it was letting the other lanes ride the buhos. And by the way, you know that traffic is bad when you see the chicharon and water vendors walking around.

The Bacoor local government actually gives the reason for the whole system in the billboard located in the Cavite-bound lane at the end of Coastal Road. But the problem is, I don't think any driver can read what it says. For one, it is angled sideways facing the establishments across the street and not toward motorists. It is also positioned at the left side of a road that is curving toward the right, and so a driver's attention is driven away from, not toward, the billboard.

I've been trying to read that billboard each time I pass through Coastal into Cavite but I could never quite do so until I took this picture, and zoomed in to read: "For Aguinaldo and Tirona Highway. 3 to 1 ratio of vehicles toward Manila from 5 AM to 9 AM. 3 to 1 ratio of vehicles toward Cavite from 4 pm to 9 pm." (Sorry about the dusty windshield; blame that for any inaccuracy).

So is the buhos system the scientific solution to the huge volume of vehicles going in and out of Cavite province everyday? I don't know. All I know is that everytime I pass this way, and back again, I end up extremely tired and deflated. My sons refuse to travel there in the daytime and will only do so either before 6 am or after 11 pm. The bottomline is that the traffic makes us dread going to Cavite, which is really a pity.

50 years ago

Frozen in time is the moment half a century ago when my mother made a wish as she was blowing the candles on her cake. It was her 19th birthday, she was just out of college, and her family was just a few years settled in Manila after moving out of Cavite City, like many other Caviteño families before them.

What could she have wished for? Did she get it? Did the next 50 years turn out as she had planned?

All I know is that I wasn't even a glimmer in her eyes and she hadn't even met my handsome father. But it was a joyous occasion, as most birthdays go, especially birthdays that welcome adulthood and a whole new life ahead.

My uncle, then only nine years old, supplied me with the names of the other guests in the picture: standing on the left is Sister Maria, who was a member of the Legion of Mary with my mom and my aunt (standing to my mom's left). Gathered around are family friends Nenita Viola, Zeny Ovejas carrying her son Benny, Lilian Sangalang, househelp Nicolas (Boy) Ayende, Luz Cerilles, Linda Hirang and Helen Penales. Friends from Cavite City present were Ricardo Basa and my mom's cousin Zeny dela Cruz. The little girl beside my uncle is Cristina Sales whose brother now heads the government Commission on Information Technology.

The people in the photograph grew up, had careers, moved out of their Manila neighborhood, married and had families, went abroad and were eventually separated by time and distance. I hope the photo reminds them of happy days, a more innocent time, and the full lives lived since then. Happy Birthday, Mommy!

Lengguahe de ayer

Ya pregunta mi tia, cuando raw yo ya prindi chabacano, eh ni no eli ya oi comigo platika Chabacano, ni ung vez. Ta platika naman yo, no lang siguro ilo ta oi.

Basta yo ya quida grande junto mi mga tio y tio, aguelo y aguela, todo ta platika chabacano na casa di ilo na Manila. Mi tata y nana ta trabaha di quel na Cavite. El lenggwahe alla na casa de mi aguelo Chabacano. Comigo ta platika ilos English. Pero na mi cabeza sabe yo platika Chabacano.

Aqui na litrato, junto de mio mi aguela, tio y tia, ung pascua, siguro 1962. Tiene pa grande Christmas tree na detras de nisos. Yo solo nieta. Tana barriga pa lang de mi Mommy aquel mi catecatera hermana (No hay mi Mommy na litrato).

Hasta ya quida grande yo, bago entra na kolehiyo, Chabacano el qui ta usa mi aguela comigo, maski ta contesta yo con eli na English o Tagalog.

No se yo, pero si ta oi yo Chabacano, como tiene ta abri switch na mi cabeza. Ta intindi yo ensegida cosa ta habla. Si habla ilo, "saca tu almuada," no yo di saca kumot, si no unan. Si ta "dale ambre" comigo, di comi yo. Si ta "dali frio," di bisti jacket. Si ta rigaña yo con mi marido, ta grita yo (pero once in a blue moon lang).

Sabe rin yo cosa ta llama el mga parte del cara--ojos, nares, boca, orejas. "Ta conoci tu con aquel mujer grande ya el boca, grande pa el ojos?" Siyempre, otro pa rin el qui ta llama ilo native speaker, ya quida grande na purong Chabacano. Ilos aquel mga belday Chabacano. (O, ya culda pa yo '"belday." Esi el corrupted Spanish word "verdad").

Di pudi ba llama comigo native speaker de Chabacano? Siyempre no. Pero native listener, si.

Kaya maski yo no masyao ta platika Chabacano, sabe yo este lengguahe. No nga lang el pormal Chabacano, si tiene man pormal Chabacano. Di quel ya oi comigo Mario, aquel helper de mi Mommy na Cavite, ya magulat eli. Ang galing ko daw mag Chabacano. O mira buso, ya pudi yo escribi five paragraphs na Chabacano. (Five paragraphs ba? Sabe yo platika Chabacano pero no sabe yo cunta.)

Chabacano at Kalayaan

I remember that in my first year of college, I had a dorm-mate from Cavite City with whom I conversed in Chabacano. I think her name was Nona Umali (don't remember if I got the last name right). I know she had spent a few years in the States and was related to the family that owned Bautista Hospital.

Every time we bumped into each other in the corridor, it was always "Que tal? Cabao ya el klase?" or something like that.

I do recall seeing her often at the dorm canteen (it was the then only three-year-old Kalayaan dorm where residents paid for food and lodging) and we may have asked each other once or twice "Cosa el bianda?" Looking back, I remember that Nona rarely talked to me in Tagalog, always in Chabacano.

We never stopped to talk long because we were always rushing off to somewhere, but in our own little way we were keeping the dialect alive.

Useful Chabacano

I never realized how useful Chabacano was until I reached college and took the then required 12 units of Spanish.

My Spanish teacher in the first semester of the first year was Señora Verano, whose name means summer. After the initial awkward weeks of adjustment, I realized I had the advantage of familiarity with verbs and vocabulary. It all came back to me as I was walking through the Faculty Center (an errand I promised one of my kids) and saw Señora Verano's name still in the same room she had when I was a freshman.

I also remember an admonition heard from students who struggled through the Spanish subjects: never sign up for a teacher whose name had more than four syllables. Guaranteed terror teacher, we were told.

Of course trust me to doubt and not conform, or maybe simply run out of choices. And so I found myself in the class of Señora San Buenaventura. Talk of a polysyllabic name!

She did look like a terror teacher. Probably past 60 then, a small woman who didn't seem to have the patience for students who couldn't conjugate or tell which article to use for which noun and pronoun. I don't know what I did but I managed to survive her. She in fact was my teacher in two of my four Spanish subjects. She even had me and a classmate handle one Spanish Week program at the University Auditorium, many many veranos ago.

A few years later, the campus publication ran an article that Señora San Buenaventura died in a freak accident, having stumbled and hit her head while being chased by a dog somewhere near her home in Area 2 within the campus. It was a tragic end. But I thank her for those unforgettable semesters. Hasta la vista, Señora San Buenaventura!

"Eres Tu"

Here's one of my most favorite songs. It was sung in Spanish and became briefly popular in the 70s. The words are simple and easy for Chabacano speakers to understand.

The song is called Eres Tu (You Are), sung by the group Mocedades with lyrics by Luis Miguel. I hope that Sheldon Boucher won't mind my linking to his site for a copy of the song. Below are the words:

Click here to listen:


Como una promesa, eres tu, eres tu
Como una mañana de verano
Como una sonrisa, eres tu, eres tu
Asi, asi, eres tu.

Toda mi esperanza, eres tu, eres tu
Como lluvia fresca en mis manos
Como fuerte brisa, eres tu, eres tu
Asi, asi, eres tu.

Eres tu como el agua de mi fuente
Eres tu el fuego de mi hogar
Eres tu (algo asi eres tu) como el fuego de mi hoguera
Eres tu, el trigo de mi pan.

Como mi poema, eres tu, eres tu.
Como una guitarra en la noche
Todo mi horizonte, eres tu, eres tu.
Asi, asi, eres tu.

Tamales to die for

With tamales and such delicacies now being mass produced, like those in the picture which were bought from SM, the elders couldn't help but remember a time when this delicacy was made only on really, really special occasions and by certain people known for making them really well.

According to my aunt, the most popular maker of Tamales in Cavite City was a Mrs Robinson, who made them only during special occasions. And only if you ordered way in advance.

Those were the days when "fast food" had not yet been invented. No instant gratification and quick fixes. You waited and you got the best. Well, the world was younger and more patient then. So here's to you, Mrs Robinson, and genuine Cavite City tamales, which lives in the memory of Caviteños.

Mi Hermana

Ta pregunta aquel mi otro hermana como daw no hay pa el baby picture de eli aqui. Esti mi hermana, pinsaba yo talagang loyal daughter of Cavite City. Pero no mas. Desde ya kasa, ya anda abroad, ya ulvida ya nosi el lenggwahe. No ma eli Caviteña. No ma nga Pilipina eh. El pelo di eli, colorao ya! Si, sabi platika Chabacano pero mas quiere eli platika English. Spokening dollar ya. Sabagay mucho Caviteño el ansina, ya dija con el ciudad porque kosa nga naman di hace na Cavite? No hay trabaho alla. El que ya pasa con mucho Caviteño, ta trabaha na Manila pero na Cavite pa ta quida, di embarka Saulog todo el dia. Hay, nakakapagod. Y el gastos! Bueno pa quida ya na Manila o maski donde tiene trabaho.

Remembered Name - 2

Ya culda mi hermana el nombre di quel padre na San Roque Church. Father Baraquiel Mojica. Talda rin aquel ya quida parish priest alla.

My sister remembered, having studied at St. Joseph's College, which was right next door to, or more precisely the backyard of, San Roque Church. She shares my sentiments expressed in an earlier entry. My sister was a champion declaimer at her school and is shown here in one such declamation contest. Emoting.

Imagine it being the 1970s and there were still cura parrocos who reminded people of the frayles of the Spanish colonial era. You could just imagine how much worse it was two decades earlier.

My aunt says she remembers the day my Lolo Angco stopped going to San Roque Church. The then parish priest was Padre Pedro who was a frayle in the Noli-Me-Tangere sense of the word. He was Spanish and felt himself to be God's representative whose word was law. "There were certain rules to follow, otherwise they shooed you away. When it's time to kneel, everybody must kneel even if there was no space to do so," said my aunt.

The turning point for Lolo Angco came during one mass and it was the consecration, and he remained standing while everyone was kneeling because there was no place to kneel. The cura parroco glared in his direction and shouted, in Spanish-accented Tagalog, "Kung ayaw lumuhod, lumabas ng simbahan! (If you don't want to kneel, get out of the church!)"

According to my aunt, who witnessed that incident, my grandfather spat in the cura parroco's direction, left the church and didn't look back. This was the 1950s. Eventually the family moved to Manila where they became active in a parish where the priest was friendlier and more liberal. My grandfather became an active member of the Parish Council, the Knights of Columbus and the Apostleship of Prayer.

Before, churchgoers were like robots who stood and knelt on cue. Now Catholics are allowed to sing, dance and shout in Church like born-again Christians do. Padre Damaso, Padre Pedro, Padre Baraquiel Mojica and their kind must be turning in their graves.

Not Quite

Ok, ok. So the song (below) isn't really a native Chabacano song. But at least it's a lively little ditty that talks about the Caviteño and in Chabacano. During its time it must have been considered a pop song. Now I'm curious as to the existence of recordings of really homegrown Chabacano songs.

"Caviteño" by The Mabuhay Singers

The nice thing about blogging is that you're forced to learn the technology. After I found the song "Caviteño," the challenge was to upload it on this blog. I spent a good part of last night experimenting with ways to convert the file from .wav or .mp3 to .wma and then post it using one Internet service, only to find out that that service sucked. But I persisted, and finally found a really good site that hosts, free for a limited amount of space, files for bloggers or website owners.

And so, success! Here, folks, is the song "Caviteño" also known as "Ang Binatang Kabitenyo" composed by Juan L. Silos, sung by The Mabuhay Singers (buhay pa ba ang Mabuhay Singers?) and produced by Villar Records.

To listen, just click here. Enjoy!

Chabacano Songs

My Uncle Bobby wrote me some days back with a remembered Chabacano song. Below are the lyrics, with the girl's name supplied by whoever is singing it:

Yo quiere con N_____
Porcasa muy guwapa
Lolinda, Azucena
De Mayo y Abril

My Aunt Gigi naman wrote to say she remembers a song called Ang Binatang Kabitenyo or El Binatang Kabitenyo. I think I was able to find the song, which goes this way:

El mana binatang kabitenyo
Guwapong guwapo
Del pustura todong todo
Cuando de hace la amor
Contigo peligroso
Porque no pwede vos decir no

I've actually heard the song. I just hope I got the fourth line correctly. My ears tell me though that the singers said "mana binatang kabitenyo" not mga (pronounced manga). Some old folks pronounce it this way. One of them was my Lolo Marcial who I clearly remember saying "mana" (mana genti, mana cratura), and never mga or manga.

The song was sung by the Mabuhay Singers and composed by Juan Silos. I will post that song as soon as I figure out how to convert/shrink the file to a manageable size. Ta llura ya mi computer porcasa masyao overworked ya eli, no ma ta descansa.

Contra Cachichas

My aunt says reading the word cachichas on this blog is the first time she has seen it since leaving for the U.S. 35 years ago. As for me, I've used it on my children when they were younger and came home from school with shoes that reeked of sweat and dirt.

"Cachichas! Cachichas!" I used to tell them. They were intrigued by the term. There's actually a Tagalog equivalent, alipunga, but it doesn't quite capture the bite of cachichas. Alipunga also connotes something of a skin disease while cachichas conveys something more: a deplorable state of personal hygiene.

That's why my sons have developed this habit of never leaving the house without covering their feet in foot powder. They never leave home without it. Blame it on cachichas. (No, this isn't an ad for foot powder).

As for girls, they use open-toed slippers to school these days, the kind Filipinos used strictly at home long ago. Beachwalk sandals, they were called, and cost around 50 pesos. But those kinds of sandals are marketed today as Havaianas and are priced 120 times more! What an expensive way to fight cachichas!

Cachichas

Cachichas is a word I heard my Lolo Angco say when I was little. Cachichas means smelly feet and if memory serves, it was a word used in anger or disgust at, what else, smelly feet and other such unpleasant things that invade the senses.

I remembered it while reading a column by historian Ambeth Ocampo. Somewhere in his column, Ocampo mentions this Chabacano line: "lintic! bueno sana topa rayo con todo este mga jindut de cachichao!"

Ocampo cites a 1961 translation of this line that went: "Lintic! It will be good if lightning strikes these Castilas!"

That, it seems, is the wrong translation. The correct one, Ocampo says, was supplied by Emmanuel Luis A. Romanillos who wrote the book "Chabacano Studies: Essays on Cavite's Chabacano Language and Literature."

The correct translation of jindut de cachichao is "people with f-----g foul-smelling feet." (And for those who don't know what lintic or lintik is, it's a Filipino word that's less intense than s--t or f--k).

It may sound like gutter language but this line is actually part of history already. It supposedly appears in one of the letters sent to national hero Jose Rizal by a friend named Evaristo Aguirre in 1887.