A matter of taste

 By: Emille Llorente

It’s like, um

WE’VE ALL HEARD them–three magic words usedto trick the rest of the crowd that the speaker is about to say something that makes sense, in English. It could be a familiar scenario every time you hop in your car and tune in to FM stations where jocks think that “though” and “you know” are proper punctuation marks.  In the absence of provocative music that encourage ass-shaking, we turn to these guys yackingabout celebrities’ lives.

It is not just a manner of speaking anymore. It has become a lifestyle, and it’s what a lot of kids are aiming fornowadays. Their audience only hear how they talk instead of listen to what they say, and so thisbrings out my deepest annoyance for what we call the conyo nation.

I only hear nails on a chalkboard whenever today’s youth speak as if they have been taken over by a million spirits of Kris Aquino. What’s up with the excessive usage of parang and sobrang (and why can’t our tongues roll the “r” sound)? Why do we throw in a few English words to our phrases to substitutecommon Tagalog words?Is theFilipino language so plain that we have to add some kind of garnish?

A colleague of mine once had this theory that theconyo-speak originated from kids who picked up the way their yaya spoke (ex: you’re so ma-pawis already, come here so I can make suksok your likod).An attempt on the language became part of nannies’ job requirement because some parents want their children to grow up labelled as “English speaking” for whatever the reason.

On the other hand, you can’t blame our four-year-oldsif they do not appreciate the native tongue because they were all taught that “A” stands for apple rather than atis. You can’t blame me for not knowing what the heck an atisis until I got into college because in middle school, a “speaking in Filipino” list sat right beside the “noisy” list, both of which collect fines as if it’s illegal for students to converse in their own language.

 Casually speaking, it really is not that much of a big deal when people unconsciously tend to mix up their languages. This country is a melting pot of different cultures, anyway. But what bothers me is when people still perceive that English is for the elite and educated while Filipino is nothing but ordinary ,just because it is what’s used when talking to a housemaid or when inside a jeep.None of either language should be deemed superior over the other.

 I’m not here to criticize the way my generation talks; I just don’t get why my friends are having a hard time constructing a sentence that sticks to one language, even if they are sharing smart ideas.I do not understand why we think we sound better like this. I can only cringe at those who purposely talk conyo and then think they sound cooler, more so - smarter.

If you think I could have thought of a more acceptable title instead of “it’s like um,” I guess you could considerthinking of better ways to start your sentences, too. But then again, it did trick you into thinking that I was going to talk about something that makes sense. 

By EmilleLlorente

It’s like, um

WE’VE ALL HEARD them–three magic words usedto trick the rest of the crowd that the speaker is about to say something that makes sense, in English. It could be a familiar scenario every time you hop in your car and tune in to FM stations where jocks think that “though” and “you know” are proper punctuation marks.  In the absence of provocative music that encourage ass-shaking, we turn to these guys yackingabout celebrities’ lives.

It is not just a manner of speaking anymore. It has become a lifestyle, and it’s what a lot of kids are aiming fornowadays. Their audience only hear how they talk instead of listen to what they say, and so thisbrings out my deepest annoyance for what we call the conyo nation.

I only hear nails on a chalkboard whenever today’s youth speak as if they have been taken over by a million spirits of Kris Aquino. What’s up with the excessive usage of parang and sobrang (and why can’t our tongues roll the “r” sound)? Why do we throw in a few English words to our phrases to substitutecommon Tagalog words?Is theFilipino language so plain that we have to add some kind of garnish?

A colleague of mine once had this theory that theconyo-speak originated from kids who picked up the way their yaya spoke (ex: you’re so ma-pawis already, come here so I can make suksok your likod).An attempt on the language became part of nannies’ job requirement because some parents want their children to grow up labelled as “English speaking” for whatever the reason.

On the other hand, you can’t blame our four-year-oldsif they do not appreciate the native tongue because they were all taught that “A” stands for apple rather than atis. You can’t blame me for not knowing what the heck an atisis until I got into college because in middle school, a “speaking in Filipino” list sat right beside the “noisy” list, both of which collect fines as if it’s illegal for students to converse in their own language.

 Casually speaking, it really is not that much of a big deal when people unconsciously tend to mix up their languages. This country is a melting pot of different cultures, anyway. But what bothers me is when people still perceive that English is for the elite and educated while Filipino is nothing but ordinary ,just because it is what’s used when talking to a housemaid or when inside a jeep.None of either language should be deemed superior over the other.

 I’m not here to criticize the way my generation talks; I just don’t get why my friends are having a hard time constructing a sentence that sticks to one language, even if they are sharing smart ideas.I do not understand why we think we sound better like this. I can only cringe at those who purposely talk conyo and then think they sound cooler, more so - smarter.

If you think I could have thought of a more acceptable title instead of “it’s like um,” I guess you could considerthinking of better ways to start your sentences, too. But then again, it did trick you into thinking that I was going to talk about something that makes sense.