Native Tongue

I grew up in a Cebuano household. We rarely, if ever, speak English at home. My sisters and I don’t speak it as fluently as my parents because there are some terms we don’t even know the Cebuano equivalent for; but I would say, 90% of the language we use is the vernacular.

My home environment alone would’ve turned me into an expert at my own language. However, private education almost ruined my chances. How can it not with a policy that says, “English only!” In my grade school, Cebuano words were not allowed. Every slip of the tongue came with a penalty. In our class, we paid 25 cents each time we did. It was effective, mind you. But now that I think about it, is it really wise to put such a premium on one language at the expense of another? What’s wrong with mastering two (or three) languages at the same time? Multilingualism is such a great gift to give a child! Some of my classmates never recovered. They can’t speak Cebuano without stuttering. Probably because they don’t use it at home either. And I think it’s a missed opportunity because everyone should know their native tongue. 

Because of these two different scenarios, I have learned to compartmentalize. At home, with my family and relatives, I spoke Cebuano; outside, in school or when out with friends, English. That wasn’t a conscious decision, it’s just how things turned out. My college friends (who were brutally honest), were the ones who made me aware of this when they told me that I spoke English way too much and it made them feel uncomfortable. One used to tease me by imitating the way I spoke. And thank God, they did!

Their unveiled criticism of my insensitivity led me to tailor the way I speak with whomever I’m talking to. Not out of deliberate effort either because I wasn’t even cognizant of it until a friend, who is a New Yorker, remarked that when I speak to her, I sound like a New Yorker; but when I converse with another colleague who is a Filipino, I sound like him (even when we’re saying English words!).

Since she brought that to my attention, I noticed that I do tend to talk differently with different people. With someone who speaks fluent Cebuano, I turn into a fluent Cebuano speaker with a thick accent to match (or as fluent as I know how; because let’s face it, I don’t even know what “orange” is in my language). With grade school and high school friends who speak 75% English and 25% Cebuano, I speak the same way. I even mirror their tone and enunciation! With my close friends, well, I speak however I want to at any given moment and depending on what we’re talking about. They don’t care; they love me no matter what.

However, there are situations where English is my go-to, regardless of who the audience is. Public speaking engagements, for one; certain constructs are better expressed in English after all. And another is when I’m really, really, really mad. One would think that since Cebuano is my first language, I’d be more comfortable expressing my anger that way; not the case. [Maybe if I’m into the habit of cursing, I’d speak differently because Cebuano expletives sound more forceful and scarier!] But then, I’ve only been really, really, really mad on a few occasions so far and they all happened in the corporate setting. Maybe the context played a huge role in the choice of language. I wasn’t even aware I was doing it. (Not a surprise. There are a lot of things I’m clueless about.)

We tend to connect more with someone we can relate to linguistically. There are no shortcuts to a deep relationship, but speaking to someone using a language they understand, literally and metaphorically, is like taking the express train to their hearts.

Straight to the heart.