Martes, Oktubre 4, 2011
Lunes, Oktubre 3, 2011
Ang tipikal na Birthday (Pinoy Style)
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| hotdog-kayo-dyan move |
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| "ang tagal naman ng laro" |
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| bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!!! |
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| "akin ito, madaya! madaya!" |
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| si lolo at ang kanyang hotdog |
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| sympre di mawawala ang smile! |
Nakakarinding isipin na tama nga ito
Kumalat kamakailan ang alingasngas ng isang artikulo na kung saan marami ang umaray sa mga pahayag na binitawan nito. Ayon sa ilan, medyo kontrapelo ang nasabing artikulo sa mga nagmamagaling at mabalat-sibuyas na Pinoy. Ngunit, sadya bang panlalait ang nais ipahayag ng nasabing artikulo. O baka sadyang napangiwi lang agad tayo kaunting pasaring ng kathang nasabi.
Sabi nga nila, masakit harapin ang katotohanan.
Hindi natin masisisi si James Soriano sa mga napapansin niya sa ating bansa. Kadyak na reaksyon lamang iyon ng isang nababahalang mamamayan. Isang reaksyon na kung saan nagpakita ng pagkilos bago mahuli ang lahat.
Ikaw kailan ka ba gigising?
______________________________________________
Narito ang sipi ng nilalaman ng artikulo
______________________________________________
Language, learning, identity, privilege
By JAMES SORIANO
August 24, 2011, 4:06am
MANILA, Philippines — English is the language of learning. I’ve known this since before I could go to school. As a toddler, my first study materials were a set of flash cards that my mother used to teach me the English alphabet.
My mother made home conducive to learning English: all my storybooks and coloring books were in English, and so were the cartoons I watched and the music I listened to. She required me to speak English at home. She even hired tutors to help me learn to read and write in English.
In school I learned to think in English. We used English to learn about numbers, equations and variables. With it we learned about observation and inference, the moon and the stars, monsoons and photosynthesis. With it we learned about shapes and colors, about meter and rhythm. I learned about God in English, and I prayed to Him in English.
Filipino, on the other hand, was always the ‘other’ subject — almost a special subject like PE or Home Economics, except that it was graded the same way as Science, Math, Religion, and English. My classmates and I used to complain about Filipino all the time. Filipino was a chore, like washing the dishes; it was not the language of learning. It was the language we used to speak to the people who washed our dishes.
We used to think learning Filipino was important because it was practical: Filipino was the language of the world outside the classroom. It was the language of the streets: it was how you spoke to the tindera when you went to the tindahan, what you used to tell your katulong that you had an utos, and how you texted manong when you needed “sundo na.”
These skills were required to survive in the outside world, because we are forced to relate with the tinderas and the manongs and the katulongs of this world. If we wanted to communicate to these people — or otherwise avoid being mugged on the jeepney — we needed to learn Filipino.
That being said though, I was proud of my proficiency with the language. Filipino was the language I used to speak with my cousins and uncles and grandparents in the province, so I never had much trouble reciting.
It was the reading and writing that was tedious and difficult. I spoke Filipino, but only when I was in a different world like the streets or the province; it did not come naturally to me. English was more natural; I read, wrote and thought in English. And so, in much of the same way that I learned German later on, I learned Filipino in terms of English. In this way I survived Filipino in high school, albeit with too many sentences that had the preposition ‘ay.’
It was really only in university that I began to grasp Filipino in terms of language and not just dialect. Filipino was not merely a peculiar variety of language, derived and continuously borrowing from the English and Spanish alphabets; it was its own system, with its own grammar, semantics, sounds, even symbols.
But more significantly, it was its own way of reading, writing, and thinking. There are ideas and concepts unique to Filipino that can never be translated into another. Try translating bayanihan, tagay, kilig or diskarte.
Only recently have I begun to grasp Filipino as the language of identity: the language of emotion, experience, and even of learning. And with this comes the realization that I do, in fact, smell worse than a malansang isda. My own language is foreign to me: I speak, think, read and write primarily in English. To borrow the terminology of Fr. Bulatao, I am a split-level Filipino.
But perhaps this is not so bad in a society of rotten beef and stinking fish. For while Filipino may be the language of identity, it is the language of the streets. It might have the capacity to be the language of learning, but it is not the language of the learned.
It is neither the language of the classroom and the laboratory, nor the language of the boardroom, the court room, or the operating room. It is not the language of privilege. I may be disconnected from my being Filipino, but with a tongue of privilege I will always have my connections.
So I have my education to thank for making English my mother language.
source: http://www.pinoymoneytalk.com/james-soriano-column-filipino-language/
Sabi nga nila, masakit harapin ang katotohanan.
Hindi natin masisisi si James Soriano sa mga napapansin niya sa ating bansa. Kadyak na reaksyon lamang iyon ng isang nababahalang mamamayan. Isang reaksyon na kung saan nagpakita ng pagkilos bago mahuli ang lahat.
Ikaw kailan ka ba gigising?
______________________________________________
Narito ang sipi ng nilalaman ng artikulo
______________________________________________
Language, learning, identity, privilege
By JAMES SORIANO
August 24, 2011, 4:06am
MANILA, Philippines — English is the language of learning. I’ve known this since before I could go to school. As a toddler, my first study materials were a set of flash cards that my mother used to teach me the English alphabet.
My mother made home conducive to learning English: all my storybooks and coloring books were in English, and so were the cartoons I watched and the music I listened to. She required me to speak English at home. She even hired tutors to help me learn to read and write in English.
In school I learned to think in English. We used English to learn about numbers, equations and variables. With it we learned about observation and inference, the moon and the stars, monsoons and photosynthesis. With it we learned about shapes and colors, about meter and rhythm. I learned about God in English, and I prayed to Him in English.
Filipino, on the other hand, was always the ‘other’ subject — almost a special subject like PE or Home Economics, except that it was graded the same way as Science, Math, Religion, and English. My classmates and I used to complain about Filipino all the time. Filipino was a chore, like washing the dishes; it was not the language of learning. It was the language we used to speak to the people who washed our dishes.
We used to think learning Filipino was important because it was practical: Filipino was the language of the world outside the classroom. It was the language of the streets: it was how you spoke to the tindera when you went to the tindahan, what you used to tell your katulong that you had an utos, and how you texted manong when you needed “sundo na.”
These skills were required to survive in the outside world, because we are forced to relate with the tinderas and the manongs and the katulongs of this world. If we wanted to communicate to these people — or otherwise avoid being mugged on the jeepney — we needed to learn Filipino.
That being said though, I was proud of my proficiency with the language. Filipino was the language I used to speak with my cousins and uncles and grandparents in the province, so I never had much trouble reciting.
It was the reading and writing that was tedious and difficult. I spoke Filipino, but only when I was in a different world like the streets or the province; it did not come naturally to me. English was more natural; I read, wrote and thought in English. And so, in much of the same way that I learned German later on, I learned Filipino in terms of English. In this way I survived Filipino in high school, albeit with too many sentences that had the preposition ‘ay.’
It was really only in university that I began to grasp Filipino in terms of language and not just dialect. Filipino was not merely a peculiar variety of language, derived and continuously borrowing from the English and Spanish alphabets; it was its own system, with its own grammar, semantics, sounds, even symbols.
But more significantly, it was its own way of reading, writing, and thinking. There are ideas and concepts unique to Filipino that can never be translated into another. Try translating bayanihan, tagay, kilig or diskarte.
Only recently have I begun to grasp Filipino as the language of identity: the language of emotion, experience, and even of learning. And with this comes the realization that I do, in fact, smell worse than a malansang isda. My own language is foreign to me: I speak, think, read and write primarily in English. To borrow the terminology of Fr. Bulatao, I am a split-level Filipino.
But perhaps this is not so bad in a society of rotten beef and stinking fish. For while Filipino may be the language of identity, it is the language of the streets. It might have the capacity to be the language of learning, but it is not the language of the learned.
It is neither the language of the classroom and the laboratory, nor the language of the boardroom, the court room, or the operating room. It is not the language of privilege. I may be disconnected from my being Filipino, but with a tongue of privilege I will always have my connections.
So I have my education to thank for making English my mother language.
source: http://www.pinoymoneytalk.com/james-soriano-column-filipino-language/
Linggo, Oktubre 2, 2011
Hindi lang si Bob Marley ang Astig
Lakbay kanta mula sa bandang Bersus.
Ang bandang Bersus ay isang bandang nabuo noong 1993. Ang may pakana nang bandang ito ay sina Abet Umil at Joel Piñon. Hango sa isang personal na labanan ng isa sa mga may pakana nagmula ang pangalan ng banda. Iba-iba ang range ng tugtugan ng mga ito.
Akala nyo si Bob Marley lang ang astig no?
May Bersus ang mga Pinoy. Hala umindak kasama sila.
Ang bandang Bersus ay isang bandang nabuo noong 1993. Ang may pakana nang bandang ito ay sina Abet Umil at Joel Piñon. Hango sa isang personal na labanan ng isa sa mga may pakana nagmula ang pangalan ng banda. Iba-iba ang range ng tugtugan ng mga ito.
Akala nyo si Bob Marley lang ang astig no?
May Bersus ang mga Pinoy. Hala umindak kasama sila.
Pelikulang Pinoy Bow!
Sabi nila, ang papanget ng Pelikulang Pinoy. Umiikot lang daw madalas sa iyakan, romansahan, aksyon at tawanan. Wala daw sense ang mga Pelikulang Pinoy.
Hmmm... malamang ang nagsasabi nito ay hindi napanuod ang mga pelikulang nagbigay kulay sa Sinehang Pinoy.
Kung gandang ganda ka sa Pelikulang Banyaga dahil may lalim at sense ang mga ito, mukhang mali yata ang pagkakakilala mo sa Pelikulang Pinoy.
Bibigyan kita ng isang example.
Panoorin mo ang mga ito.
Opening ngayon ng 13th Patras International Film Festival, Patras City, Greece. Kinulayang Kiti ( Hand Painted Feathers) by Direk Richard Legaspi will be shown. Ang Kamot Nga Nagluwas (The Hand That Saved) by Jeffrey Ramos is scheduled on Thursday, Oct. 4, 2011.
Dahil napatunayan ng mga ibang pelikula ang kalidad ng kanilang mga natatanging obra kaya itong mga bagong obra ang ipakikilala ko sa inyo.
Mabuhay ang pelikulang Pilipino!
Hmmm... malamang ang nagsasabi nito ay hindi napanuod ang mga pelikulang nagbigay kulay sa Sinehang Pinoy.
Kung gandang ganda ka sa Pelikulang Banyaga dahil may lalim at sense ang mga ito, mukhang mali yata ang pagkakakilala mo sa Pelikulang Pinoy.
Bibigyan kita ng isang example.
Panoorin mo ang mga ito.
Opening ngayon ng 13th Patras International Film Festival, Patras City, Greece. Kinulayang Kiti ( Hand Painted Feathers) by Direk Richard Legaspi will be shown. Ang Kamot Nga Nagluwas (The Hand That Saved) by Jeffrey Ramos is scheduled on Thursday, Oct. 4, 2011.
Dahil napatunayan ng mga ibang pelikula ang kalidad ng kanilang mga natatanging obra kaya itong mga bagong obra ang ipakikilala ko sa inyo.
Mabuhay ang pelikulang Pilipino!
HANDA KA NA BANG MAGING PINOY?
Nagising ako nang mga bandang alas-otso.(Nasa bahay pala si Papa...)
Tulog na tulog pa ang dalawa kong anak. Samantalang nagtitimpla ng kape ang aking asawa para sa sa aking tatay na bumisita sa bahay. (Nakabukod na kasi kami ng sarili kong pamilya)
Nagbukas ako ng net. Maraming nabasa sa fb na nakatulugan ko kagabi. Nakakalungkot ang iba at ang iba naman ay nakakatuwa.
Ito ang napagtanto sa araw na iyon
10 dahilan bakit masarap maging PINOY
(medyo stereotype na iyong iba dito, pero ngayon ko lang naapreciate ang mga iyon)
10. Automatiko sa PINOY na kapag may bisita, maghahanda kahit walang laman ang Ref sa bahay. (Lalo na kung kamag-anak ang dumalaw sa bahay.)
9. Kahit walang-wala na. Ang bisita nama'y pilit magdadala ng kahit anung pasalubong sa dinalaw na bahay. (Lalo na kung bukal sa loob ang pagdalaw at hindi ito pinapapunta lang)
8. Sa Pilipinas, mas mahal ng mga thunders ang kanilang mga apo kaysa sa kanilang mga anak.
7. Sa kahit anong pagkakataon, ang PINOY ay palabati kahit hindi naman kayo ka-close.
6. Ang bawat PINOY ay may pakialam sa kapwa niya. (Minsan na mimisintepret natin itong pakialamero o tsismoso't tsismosa)
5. Tuwing umaga, sigurado kang may makikitang almusal diyan sa tabi-tabi na abot sa laman ng inyong bulsa. (taho, champorado, lugaw, arroz caldo, atbp.)
4. Sa daming problema ng bansa, marami pa ring dahilan ang mga PINOY para ngumiti at tumawa.
3. Si PNOY ang ating pangulo.
2. Hindi lahat ng nakakaaway mo habang buhay mo nang kaaway.
1. Higit sa lahat, masarap maging PINOY sapagkat kahit anong tingin ng ibang bansa at kapwa PINOY sa pagiging PINOY natin marami pa rin ang nagmamahal at nagpupumilit na maibangon ang ating imahe. (Sa radikal o sa karaniwang paraan)
Kaya, handa ka na bang maging PINOY?
Tulog na tulog pa ang dalawa kong anak. Samantalang nagtitimpla ng kape ang aking asawa para sa sa aking tatay na bumisita sa bahay. (Nakabukod na kasi kami ng sarili kong pamilya)
Nagbukas ako ng net. Maraming nabasa sa fb na nakatulugan ko kagabi. Nakakalungkot ang iba at ang iba naman ay nakakatuwa.
Ito ang napagtanto sa araw na iyon
10 dahilan bakit masarap maging PINOY
(medyo stereotype na iyong iba dito, pero ngayon ko lang naapreciate ang mga iyon)
10. Automatiko sa PINOY na kapag may bisita, maghahanda kahit walang laman ang Ref sa bahay. (Lalo na kung kamag-anak ang dumalaw sa bahay.)
9. Kahit walang-wala na. Ang bisita nama'y pilit magdadala ng kahit anung pasalubong sa dinalaw na bahay. (Lalo na kung bukal sa loob ang pagdalaw at hindi ito pinapapunta lang)
8. Sa Pilipinas, mas mahal ng mga thunders ang kanilang mga apo kaysa sa kanilang mga anak.
7. Sa kahit anong pagkakataon, ang PINOY ay palabati kahit hindi naman kayo ka-close.
6. Ang bawat PINOY ay may pakialam sa kapwa niya. (Minsan na mimisintepret natin itong pakialamero o tsismoso't tsismosa)
5. Tuwing umaga, sigurado kang may makikitang almusal diyan sa tabi-tabi na abot sa laman ng inyong bulsa. (taho, champorado, lugaw, arroz caldo, atbp.)
4. Sa daming problema ng bansa, marami pa ring dahilan ang mga PINOY para ngumiti at tumawa.
2. Hindi lahat ng nakakaaway mo habang buhay mo nang kaaway.
1. Higit sa lahat, masarap maging PINOY sapagkat kahit anong tingin ng ibang bansa at kapwa PINOY sa pagiging PINOY natin marami pa rin ang nagmamahal at nagpupumilit na maibangon ang ating imahe. (Sa radikal o sa karaniwang paraan)
Kaya, handa ka na bang maging PINOY?
Sabado, Oktubre 1, 2011
Ito ang lugar para sa iyo (bawal nga lang tawiran)
Bagong tambayan nang mga kumikilala pa sa kulturang PINOY.
Ang sarap maging Pinoy, nararamdaman mo ba?
O di kaya'y nalalasahan?
Nahahawakan?
Nakikita kaya?
Wala nang maraming tanong...
Kung naiintindihan mo ang mga nakasulat dito Pinoy ka nga. Kaya tambay na!
Ang sarap maging Pinoy, nararamdaman mo ba?
O di kaya'y nalalasahan?
Nahahawakan?
Nakikita kaya?
Wala nang maraming tanong...
Kung naiintindihan mo ang mga nakasulat dito Pinoy ka nga. Kaya tambay na!
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