Graduate Economics student. Internet addict. Toy collector. Card player. Avid reader. Filipino. Sketches the occasional work or two. May also take photographs. Complicated.

 

Carla vs. Food at Wai-Ying.  (at Wai Ying Fast Food)

Carla vs. Food at Wai-Ying. (at Wai Ying Fast Food)

Waking a sleeping bear.

Waking a sleeping bear.

Much swag. So honors. Congrats Earl!

Much swag. So honors. Congrats Earl!

From 9gag. Bromance rules.

From 9gag. Bromance rules.

For me, Filipinos exist always in the medium of “Tatakut” — we exist in the exquisite play of our mutable languages, fatally polylingual. We are always code-switching, in speech, thought, and online (especially online). It’s as if we exist in the world of autocorrect, of kneejerk transliterations. That’s the gift, not curse, of our history and place. To say I write in English and think in Waray is a mirage: I am always working in both of those languages, in ghost-times, with my various speech-selves. Most Filipinos, like many citizens of colonized states, are at least trilingual — thus we operate on nine phantom levels of speech all the time (English/Waray; English/Tagalog; Waray/Tagalog; and so on). We are always all of our languages, not just “perfect English” and “perfect Tagalog,” but also all our other speeches, and not just Waray or Cebuano or Pangalatoc, but also our mash-ups and the pidgin and our constantly evolving, hapless, and inventive urban and provincial slangs. As Anderson says: “One has to learn to enjoy, ‘Paki-doorbell na lang kayo!’” Literally, “Can you please doorbell!” Instead of the equally terse and easy to say, “Please use the doorbell.”