By: Arch. Ernesto R. Zarate
HOMESPUN
WIT AND HUMOR are manifest in the signs the Filipino puts up and the
names he coins. He is quite creative. It may even be claimed that he is
either very inventively humorous or humorously inventive.
In the early fifties and sixties, for example, when the basic transportation fare within Metro Manila was just ten centavos, the
creative Filipino jeepney driver, instead of using a formal statement
to request passengers to sit properly in public conveyances, posts the
sign “Upong Diyes Po Lamang.” One admires, too, the truck driver who
crudely paints the quaint warning at the rear of his vehicle “Potpot
Bago Losot.” A more sophisticated bumper signage is “’Wag Gumitgit;
Baka Sumabit.”
However, the Filipino blue collar oftentimes
makes use of many well-meaning signs that often makes me wince, like
“Parking Strickly for Costumers Only”; the cryptic “No Beer is
Prohibited to Minors Below 18 Yrs. Old”; the mind-cringing “Specialize
in Vokswagen”; and the irritating “Road Close.”
Do Filipino
drivers know how to read traffic signs or is it because they just don’t
care? Here’s a testimony of their indiscipline: Along the highway, an
ordinary “NO OVERTAKING” sign is not enough. After a few hundred
meters, it has to be followed with “STRICTLY NO OVERTAKING.” This makes
me sometimes wish that the next signpost along the road would be a large
arrow pointing to a total wreck of a car with a placard beside it that
says “AYAW MANIWALA KASI, E. ”
From EDSA, when you turn
towards Ayala Avenue or the central business district of Makati, you
would be confronted by this officious looking sign: “CLOSED DOOR POLICY
STRICTLY ENFORCED.” Don’t take this as a sign of snobbish corporate
exclusivity. It simply means that buses plying the route are required to
keep their doors shut so that reckless passengers cannot jump in or out
in the middle of dangerous intersections.
A friend who lives
out of town and only occasionally comes to Manila was wondering why so
many new signs were put up for a visiting Chinese VIP named “PED XING”
until she almost got arrested for jaywalking.
Shortly after the
EDSA Revolution, a makeshift sign was painted behind the giant bust of
Marcos on the mountainside along the highway to Baguio that says
”PUEDENG UMIHI DITO.”
At EDSA Crossing in Mandaluyong, naughty
street vendors scraped off the letters “W” and “D” from a “DITO PO
TUMAWID” sign to the delight of passers-by.
Not far away, along
the side road near the China Overpass, I found a perfect illustration
of irony and an innocent denigration of government ineptitude. The
common government infrastructure sign, “THIS IS WHERE YOUR TAXES GO,”
was used as a temporary barrier over an open storm drain manhole.
And now, lets turn to signboards of commercial establishments. Among my
early favorites are the ironic “Funeraria Mabuhay,” and the intriguing
“3 Sisters Vulcanizing” (One wonders if the girls are still doing their
thing till now). Now, we have “Elizabeth Tailoring,” “Goldirocks Gravel
& Sand,” “Peter Pan De Sal,” “Scissors Palace Barber Shop,” and
“Mercy Buko Fresh Coconuts.” “Cinna Von” does not sell sweet pastries—it
is a Laundromat. “ Pansit ng Taga-Malaboni” is a noodle shop found near
Boni Avenue, Mandaluyong City. And if you love James Bond thrillers,
this one would surely stick to your brain: “Farmacia With Love.”
Here are other store names: “Maruya Carey” (selling turon and maruya),
“Wrap and Roll” (a lumpia outlet), “Isda Best” (a fish restaurant),
“Curl up and Dye” (beauty parlor), “Petal Attraction” (flower shop),
“Maid to Order” (a placement agency), “Doris Day and Night” (a 24-hour
karinderia), “Candies Be Love” (a candy store), and “Ali Baka” (a
shawarma establishment).
Oftentimes, a catchy name would
spell the difference between success and failure when trying to attract
customers into a store or eating-place. Riding on the popularity of the
brand names of big chains may help in memory recall but somewhat
cheapens the business establishment. Just like these flippant puns:
“Caintacky Fried Chicken” at Cainta, Rizal, or, “Aristobak,” an eatery
frequented by taxi drivers behind the classy Aristocrat Restaurant in
the old days. I’m sure you’ve also heard of the insolent imitations like
“Mang Donald’s,” “Jobillee” and “Magnobia” almost infringing on the
copyrighted brand names of the food giants. How about the jeepney that
was remodeled and now serves low-priced quick lunches at sidewalks? Its
name? “VIAje MARE.”
What I personally found cute was this
small karinderia near Banawe, which boasted of delicious home-cooked
food—“Cooking ng Ina Mo.” It became so successful that a competitor,
wanting to get even, perhaps, put up one just like it right across the
street—“Cooking ng Ina Mo Rin”!
Still on the subject of
business names, small gift shops or boutiques owned by three partners
often take the first syllables of the owners’ first names to call their
shop. “Felumar’s,” for example, may be owned by the kumadres, Fely,
Lumeng and Maria. “Rodeliz,” meantime, comes from the first syllables of
Rowena, Delia and Elizabeth. Following this trend, business partners
Potenciana, Tangerine and Innamorata, should either change their given
names, choose a store name not based on their names, or maybe should not
go into partnership at all.
The Filipino loves to concoct
delicious names. Not so long ago, for instance, an alternative
basketball league (MBA or Metropolitan Basketball Association) was
established to complement (if not compete with) the very popular PBA or
Philippine Basketball Association. Similar to the NBA of the USA, the
original plan was to decentralize the game and organize several teams to
represent different areas in the country. That kicked-off a mad
guessing game among punsters on what names these ball clubs would be
sporting—the more preposterous, the funnier. Early suggestions were:
“Cavite Anting-Antings,” “Batangas Balisongs,” and “Cubao Farmers.”
Later contributions were getting more outlandish—“Bulacan Sweets,”
“Pampanga’s Best” and even “Baguio Beans.” Who would be courageous
enough to play against a team that calls itself the “Muntinlupa
Inmates”? The only lineup that could probably match up to them would be
the “Iwahig Internees.” Then there is this mythical group of tall boys
from Bicol called “Legaspi Towers” and the paradox of a team, the
“Pandacan Giants.”
Even well known personalities are not
invulnerable from the blitz of creative name-callers. For instance,
there is this gravel and sand company owned by four guys whose family
names are Andrada, Trinidad, Ortega and Yap. Their corporate name?
“A.T.O.Y. Co.” How about this small talipapa in Guadalupe that is named
“Orly’s Mercado”?
The “gaya gaya, puto maya” syndrome is not an
exclusive Filipino trait. The Japanese, for instance, came out with
“Land Cruiser,” an all-purpose, all-terrain utility vehicle when they
copied the British “Land Rover.” But what do you think the Filipino
called its copy of the “Pajero”? You guessed it—“Parejo,” with the “j”
pronounced the way Spanish do.
Chateaubriand, ratatouille or
coq au vin are popular French dishes. But did you know that we have our
own version of escargot? It is called “iskargu” which is the short for
the common man’s ulam: isda, karne at gulay.
Let’s be more
plebeian. Roasted chicken feet are simply called “adidas”; barbecued
chicken intestines, meanwhile, are “IUD’s” because they do look like
those birth-control devices; a broiled chicken kidney is “bato.”
Char-grilled pork ears are labeled “Walkman.” An exotic aphrodisiac fare
of pork testicles is listed as “Great Balls of Fire.” A menu item with
the name “The Day After the Fiesta Special” is actually “paksiw na
lechon.”
The combo breakfast of tapa, sinangag and itlog is now
commonly known as “tapsilog” (“tapsi” for short), “tusilog” has tuyo as
the main entrée, while “longsilog” has longanisa. Many more creative
combinations have been invented since. Then the eateries where these are
served followed suit. One such outlet calls itself “Tapsi Turvee.”
“Truth in advertising” disallows the use of claims for a product or
service that are refutable, but is limited to just that—claims. In other
words, if a word or words describe some salient feature of a product
but is endemic to the name and no claims are made about it, it is okay.
For example, “Katialis,” a local skin ointment, actually does not remove
the itch but attacks the cause of the malady. In the same manner, if
you call your building “The X Tower,” it’s okay even if the structure is
only six stories high. One cannot complain that there are neither
plains in the hilly subdivision of White Plains, nor hills in the
relatively flat Greenhills area.
Whether he lives in an
exclusive subdivision or in a cramped hovel under a bridge somewhere,
the Filipino’s talent and penchant for dreaming up names and signs are
incomparable. Aside from the admitted fact that “likas na palatawa and
Pinoy,” he is proud to call his country “The Land of a Thousand Smiles.”
That is why he swears by the sign that says: “Bawal ang Nakasimangot
Dito.”
by Ernie Zárate.)
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