On this day, we pay tribute to Dr. José Rizal, the Philippines’ foremost national hero. He was a Filipino nationalist, writer, doctor, and polymath who played a crucial role in the country's struggle for independence from Spanish colonial rule.
He also left behind a treasure trove of literary works that continue to inspire and challenge Filipinos today. Among these is the poem Sa Aking Mga Kabata (To My Fellow Youth), attributed to Rizal, which underscores the importance of loving one’s native language.
The iconic line, "Ang hindi magmahal sa kanyang salita, mahigit sa hayop at malansang isda" (He who does not love his own language is worse than a beast and a putrid fish), highlights the poet’s call for patriotism through the preservation and pride in Filipino linguistic identity.
However, in today’s modern society, especially among the youth, a unique linguistic phenomenon has emerged: the blending of Filipino and English, commonly referred to as Conyo Filipino or Taglish.
This hybrid language — characterized by switching between Filipino and English within the same sentence — has become the lingua franca of many urbanized Filipino youth.
Conyo Filipino is not just a mode of communication but also a reflection of culture and identity in a globalized world. For instance, phrases like "Grabe, super traffic today, nakakastress!" or "Can we tambay later after school?" illustrate the seamless interweaving of Filipino and English words. While some argue that this linguistic shift dilutes the purity of Filipino, others see it as an adaptive and dynamic form of cultural expression.
The youth’s use of this hybrid language often reflects privilege, education, and exposure to Western culture. However, it can also serve as a barrier, creating a linguistic divide between social classes and regions where traditional Filipino or regional dialects dominate.
There is also a sense of ingenuity and wit that I admire and appreciate in Conyo Filipino.
Many — if not most — words in Conyo Filipino can be difficult to understand for those who are unfamiliar with it. But when you delve into the etymology of certain conyo words, you begin to appreciate the language more. (Or is that just me?)
Some conyo words that I have liked — but do not personally use — include:
Carps = Are you game?
Etymology: From the phrase "Are you game?" simplified further to "r-u-g," then elevated into "carpet," and shortened to "carps."
Usage: "Carps ka ba later?"
Deins / Scoobs = No or No Way
Etymology: From the cartoon character, Scooby-Doo, who is a Great Dane, which sounds like the Filipino slang for "no," deins. Essentially, it means "no" or "no way!"
Usage: "Pare, carps ka ba later?" "Scoobs, bro."
Pics = I'm game!
Etymology: From pics, short for picture, which is synonymous with image. When an image is saved as a file, it is shortened to "IMG," and when combined with "G" (for game), it becomes IMG or "I + M + G" (game). "I'm game!"
Usage: "How about you, dude? Carps ka later?" "Sure, pare. Pics!"
Timbs = Why?
Etymology: From the Tagalog word timba (bucket). When pronounced, bucket sounds like the Tagalog word bakit (why).
Usage: "Dude! Timbs you do that?"
Rizal’s Sa Aking Mga Kabata serves as a timeless reminder of the importance of language in shaping identity and unity. His words challenge today’s youth to critically reflect on how language use shapes national pride and cultural preservation. While Konyo Filipino may signal creativity and adaptability, it also calls for a conscious effort to ensure that Filipino and regional languages do not fade into obscurity.
Speaking conyo may not necessarily reflect a person's proficiency in English or Filipino. It could simply be a way of communicating within a specific cultural group or among friends. It doesn't mean they are trying to elevate themselves above others, nor does it imply a lack of ability in Filipino, contrary to what some students' responses suggest.
As one friend, who studied Linguistics at a top university, explained to me during one of our philosophical sessions, most conyos "try to speak using the syntax of Tagalog, while using the vocabulary they know, which is English."
"Most probably, English is the language they used in their upbringing or in the environment they are in," she added.
Language evolves with society, and the blending of Filipino and English is a natural outcome of the Philippines’ colonial history and global interactions. However, balancing this evolution with a love for one’s native tongue is crucial. Efforts such as including Filipino literature in education, promoting regional dialects, and celebrating National Language Month (Buwan ng Wika) are ways to bridge the gap between tradition and modernity.
As Rizal envisioned, the youth are the hope of the nation ("Ang kabataan ang pag-asa ng bayan"). In their hands lies the power to preserve Filipino heritage while navigating the complexities of modern communication. Whether speaking pure Filipino, regional dialects, or even Conyo Filipino, the essence of Rizal’s message remains clear: love and value the language that binds us as a nation.