(Part 2)
Aba! I thought, was always just an interjection. But then in the Diccionario Tagalo-Hispano of Serafin Serrano Laktaw (1914) “Aba!” also means “Oye!” Listen! But used in a holier context, as the salutation of the Angel: “Hail Mary!” Ave Maria! Aba Ginoong Maria!
Apo is an older person of authority or dignity; grandfather; god, as in Apo Malyari, supreme god of the Pampangos or Apo Iro, who is San Pedro, the patron saint in parts of Pampanga.
Impó: Male or female honorific for an old person, as in Impong José, Impong Maria etc.
In Malabon, where we evacuated during World War II, ate, dete, ditche, sanse were still what younger siblings called their older sisters (in order of birth). Kuya, diko, sanko were older brothers. Seven to 10 children were not unusual in a “prewar” family. The honorifics are Chinese in origin and quite suitable to Malabon inhabitants who were then mostly fair and chinky-eyed.
Kakâ: An older brother or sister, as in Kakâ Letty and Kakâ Oscar. (Ka Letty and Ka Oscar.) It is now ate or kuya and today also used to address people of lower station—maids, waiters, security guards, etc.
During the People Power Revolution, when we were all feeling so nationalistic, we addressed one another by the shortened Ka—so, Ka Nelia, Ka Maita, Ka Odette and Ka Gilda. The last two were often called, satirically, Miss World and Miss Universe, and so we became Ka World and Ka Universe.
Empty talk
Abrigo: My yaya always had an abrigo (balabal or shawl) for me on hand, orders of mama, “just in case it grows cold.” My abrigo was actually a round cape made of plain cotton, slit down the front. It could be closed with snaps (then called automatico).
Abrasador: From the Spanish abrazo, to embrace. A longish hotdog pillow to hug, put under or between one’s legs. Now just an extra or third pillow.
Musmos: Batang musmos—innocent child.
Kuskus balungos: Fuss. “Ang tagal bago makaalis ni Daniel kasi puro kuskus balungos.” Also called cheche bureche.
Dumaus-us: To slide down a playground slide or a banister, or the edge of a hill.
Ngawa ng ngawa: Too much loud and empty talking (adults); nagging; also called dakdak ng dakdak.
Agikik: Suppressed laughter. “Ayaw lang naming ipakita na umaagikik na kami ng tawa dahil sa wala sa tono niyang kanta.”
Agam-agam: Kutob or kaba. Premonition.
Mahalay: Vulgar. Maybe still used today; it is the equivalent of magaslaw.
Malakuko, “like a fingernail,” malahininga, “like breath,” and maligamgam, “lukewarm,” referring to temperature of water (then still being heated in takuri, or tea kettles. They are nuances of warmth that the old people knew by heart. No one, however, recorded their exact temperatures.)
Panghilod: Old-time small, flat-ish, round stone used for scrubbing the body without soap. Replaced by face towel (with soap).
Manghinuko: To trim one’s nails. My mother always used a Gillette razor blade instead of scissors to cut her nails.
Masamyo: Fragrant, like roses, sampaguita or jasmines.
Masangsang:: A strong (almost offensive) odor. Odoriferous. Even applies to cheap perfume.
Aguardiente: Alcohol.
Pagaw; namamagaw: Hoarse; also namamaos, now namamalat.
Humal: nasal; stuttering or stammering. “Di ko siya maintindihan dahil humal na humal, maaring dahil sa sipon.” (Drink salabat, quick!)
Exorcise!
On the front page of the Inquirer, an exorcist of the Church warns that yoga and feng shui practitioners, users of horoscopes and lucky charms (a mini-horseshoe?) are vulnerable to demonic possession.
“When you practice yoga,” he declared, “you are told to empty your mind while saying ‘om’ so you can feel relaxed. But when you empty yourself, you’re opening yourself to possession. You have to be careful because demons might take advantage of [this] empty vessel [of your soul] and possess you.”
I don’t know about the good monsignor, but I think emptying your mind invites as much good (or God) as it does the devil. Depends on your welcome mat.
He also warns about “Spirit of the Glass,” which is “also an opportunity for demonic possession.” We used to play Spirit of the Glass about a million years ago as a game. I believe it is more the mind that unwittingly guides one’s finger to spell the answer.
Being a skeptical person, I invited into our game our illiterate cook. She was anxious about what she was being made to do. All eyes were on her. Her fearful energy was strong and dominant. The glass moved swiftly back and forth on the paper’s encircled letters, spelling nonsense!
Another time we all looked up at the ceiling and the “Spirit” just pushed our fingers to push the glass around. It couldn’t spell anything, either, dumb spirit!
