Somlang

Pangasinan – a dying language?

By Erwin S. Fernandez

I beg to disagree with F. Sionil Jose, the National Artist for Literature who hails from Rosales, a town away from my birthplace, Urdaneta. Pangasinan, he foretells, like the rest of Philippine languages except Tagalog, Iloko and Cebuano, shall die in the near future because it is now on the verge of disuse and eventually extinction. He raises a valid point, however, that Pangasinan speakers must now address.

Unlike the three cited languages, Pangasinan don’t have Liwayway, Bisaya and Bannawag, popular vernacular magazines where one ordinarily finds short stories, essays, poems and other occasional pieces. Thus, there is no proper venue for would-be writers and authors. Or if there had been one, will there be a critical audience or more importantly, will there be writers for readers?

At present, less than one and a half million people speak the language. So who says there is no market for writers? What is lacking is a grouping like the GUMIL (Gunglo dagiti Mannurat nga Ilocano) that will unite writers who, I’m confident, are more than willing to cooperate for the sake of preserving the language. I am pretty sure they are still around in the villages or in towns or cities with dormant energies waiting to be reawakened.

The names of Catalino Palisoc (1865-1932) and Pablo Mejia (1872-1934), only two among the renowned Zarzuela writers, come to mind when we speak of Pangasinan literature. We must not miss Maria Magsano, the educator-writer and suffragist who put up the Silew magazine. In the annals of Philippine vernacular literature, these illustrious names rank among the best in Tagalog, Iloco and Cebuano literatures.

Their generation had to struggle to survive with the imposition of a dominant colonial language – English – but they succeeded for tradition did not easily succumb to the new alien culture. The next generation after them, however, educated in the state university and universities in Manila felt secure with the language of the colonial master. No one can blame them because English became the language in the academe, in the bureaucracy and in print and broadcast media. Not surprisingly, this led to the neglect to a certain extent of our local language.

Quezon, in the 1930s, thought of a national language as basis for national unity. Tagalog was imposed in schools. All over the country, non-Tagalogs had to learn the national language, which during the time of Cory Aquino, it was decided to change its name to Pilipino and at last to Filipino.

Our language, prior to this, had to compete with Iloco. Ilocano migrants settled in the province and ever since, the popularity and usage of the Iloco had far outweighed Pangasinan. Yet, it is not unusual to find people who are bilingual. In my case, we speak Pangasinan at home but we can switch to speak in Iloco if it is warranted by the occasion. In the advent of the Filipino as the national language, Pangasinan has been delegated primarily to the home; hence, marginalized as education and mass media are encouraged to employ Filipino and English.

Thanks to Sionil Jose. He had unwittingly issued the warning. Unless the present generation acts concertedly to preserve it, Pangasinan shall always be in an unhappy position pushed into the periphery of oral and literary avenues.

For the meantime, I shall patiently wait for the inclusion of Pangasinan in the roster of vernacular genre in the Palanca awards.

[First published in Sunday Punch under "Kabaleyan's Thoughts" May 29, 2006]