Kabalo ka mag Hiligaynon?

The Good Life with Eli F.J. Tajanlangit

Okay, that one is easy, you can very well translate today's title. But quick, tell me, what do the following words mean: Hurubaton, sugalambong, binalaybay?

What about: busalian, dalagangan, palhi, pangalap, tigadlum, tagalyas and himag?

It’s a shame, isn’t it, that Ilonggos like you and me can no longer translate these words of our supposed native tongue. They sure evoke some idea, some concept in our mind, but as was my experience, they are blurry and fuzzy, like some distant memory.

Distant memory, indeed, they really are. And, by the way things stand now, when call centers are saving our economy, and are all trying to teach our young foreign accents, it is a pertinent question: Can the Hiligaynon language survive? Like most of our own resources, we have relegated Hiligaynon to the level of the ordinary and have not allowed it to live on through the generations, much less have we nurtured it.

It is in this context that we welcome Ma. Cecilia Locsin-Nava’s translation of “Margosatubig: The Story of Salagunting” by Ramon L Muzones, one of the greatest Hiligaynon novelists of our time. The book is launching in Bacolod tomorrow.

The translation of what is deemed as the first international Ilonggo bestseller opens wide the doors to our very own and very rich literary tradition – and a culture we should be proud to belong to. “Margosatubig” was first published as a serial novel in Yuhum magazine after the war – and had driven its circulation figures up phenomenally. It is a reflection of how rich our literary tradition is that such a commercial success was, perhaps unknown at that time, also a literary achievement, at par with the great literary works churned out by writers in other parts of the world. With its re-launch as an English novel, who knows where this will bring us. Along the way, as we reach for our Hiligaynon dictionaries, we just might be able to spark a renewed interest in our very language.

Put the stress in the last word, language, because as Nava herself emphasizes, Hiligaynon is not a dialect, it is a language.

In fact, she points out in her notes, Hiligaynon is “richer and more precise” than the national language that is Pilipino. She cites how in Pilipino, the word “asawa” could mean either spouse, while in Hiligaynon, we say “bana” for husband and “asawa” for wife.

Nava also cites how there is only one word for “buy” in Pilipino, which is “bili” while there is at least six in Hiligaynon. You use “bakal” when you buy most things. But if you buy wine, you should say “tangway”; if you buy land, you say “taba”; if you buy meat, it’s “hinguli”; for fish, “panugbong,” and for rice, “dalawat.”

I’m sure at one time or the other we’ve used some of those words. I can still hear people say “dalawat bugas,” but we now mostly use the word “bakal.” Or, if we’ve heard these words, we may no longer know there exact meanings. I recall when I was small in the seaside town, there were times when we went to the shoreline before daybreak to do what my old folks called “panugbong” – I thought that meant eating fresh fish.

While there is something here about trying to read a Hiligaynon gem in English, it should be a start of rediscovering not just our literary traditions and culture, but ourselves as well.

And in the rediscovery, we might just learn to love, not just Hiligaynon, but everything else about us.*

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