Day 17 Dalaguete, Philippines

I'm back in Dalaguete and just met a couple of Ricky's friends who are also in the brotherhood. They are from Mantalongon, which is up in the mountains and where most of the vegetables that supply Cebu City come from. I've actually been up there before, but forgot to bring my camera. Luckily, I'll be going there this Sunday. One of Ricky's brotherhood friends is having his baby baptized and invited me to be one of his son's Ninong. The equivalent in American terms would be Godfather.

This is a predominantly Catholic nation, so my responsibilities as Ninong is to assume parental care if the parents are neglecting the child physically or spiritually. However, in modern times, it's more an honor than an actual obligation. I asked some of my coworkers what a Ninong really is supposed to do and they said nowadays Ninongs just pray for their Godchildren and send Christmas/Birthday cards. I know that he probably invited me to be a Ninong for the experience, but it's nice that I'll have ties to Dalaguete even if it's only ceremonial.

Somewhat of a tangent, but one of the cultural differences here I've noticed is how direct everyone is. It's not rude, just very honest and direct, and I'm beginning to think it's because of how the language is constructed. My parents always had trouble explaining the language to me because there are multiple meanings for everything. I know that sounds complicated but it simplifies the language because you can express how you feel or what you experience in multiple ways. The diluted nature of the language makes the connotation of individual words less positive or negative and more general. For example, the word “luoy” roughly translates, in English, to “pathetic.” However, in English, the word “pathetic” carries a somewhat negative connotation. If someone breaks their arm, you wouldn't go up to them and say, “how pathetic.” That would be rude, at least, in my mind that would be rude. But in the Philippines, you could say “luoy” without it being rude. The lack of specificity reduces the overall ambiguity. I know that sounds totally counter intuitive, but there are so many meanings for sadness in English that the overall emotion you're supposed to feel is lost in the diction. In Bisaya, there are many words for sad, but they all carry about the same amount of weight in terms of connotation. Not to say there aren't more specific words in Bisaya, just, in general, everything is more general. See, even trying to explain this in English is making my writing seem convoluted.

It's amazing because most of the people in this region are trilingual: Bisaya, Tagalog, and English. Tagalog is a different Filipino dialect, but to assume Bisaya and Tagalog are similar would be incorrect. I asked one of the nurses awhile ago how the two are different, and she said it would be like comparing English to Native American dialects.

Anyway, it's incredibly interesting just trying to understand life using a different language. It feels like a different way to view reality. I think maybe when I get back home, I'll continue learning Bisaya but also revisit Spanish since the two are so similar. Who knows, maybe I'll even become interested in learning more languages.