By Ernesto R. Zarate, FPIA
IN
THE PAST, one of the usual gripes of Visayan architectural graduates
taking the Board Exams was the section that dealt with supposed-to-be
Filipino terms in construction that they had to translate into English.
They claimed the terms in the exams are not the ones used in their
region, thus their ignorance of these words. I commiserated with
them. Their complaints were valid and true. Although many of terms used
in the field are of Hispanic origin, the terms vary according to
region.
Aside from Hispanic origins, may of our construction
terms come from Sanskrit and Malay. The carpenter’s saw is lagari in
Tagalog and several other Filipino languages. (According to Encyclopedia
Britannica, these are not dialects but true languages because they have
different syntax and grammar from one another.) The Ilocano term is
ragadi which is almost similar to gergadji in Behasa Indonesia and
Malay.
Sometimes, we use Spanish terms wrongly. The Filipino
azotea is a “balcony” but any Spanish dictionary will tell you it means
“flat roof.” If you think veranda comes from the Spanish, you’re wrong.
It is actually a Hindustani word assimilated into English by the British
colonizers of East Asia along with the term bungalow which comes from
bangla the Indian (Bengalese) word for a “thatched-roof house.” Lanai is
Hawaiian and patio is not Italian but Spanish-American.
What
probably takes the cake for me is the Filipino term for “concrete.” If
one were to visualize this, in the mind’s eye, one would see a massive
structure like those MRT pylons perhaps or a tall office building or
condominium with solid and heavy pre-cast panels. But what is the
accepted translation of “concrete” in Tagalog?… It is not as solid as it
should be… in fact it IS liquid…“buhos.”
How about the
technical term “inside corner”? How is this translated in the
vernacular? It is either “kili-kili” or “singit.” One would find these
words improper or even impolite in well-mannered conversation. But this
is the language that the workman understands.
I had a difficult
time explaining on the phone to the salesgirl at our friendly
neighborhood hardware store that I wanted a male plug. I just could not
bear to use the common term often used by electricians to describe it.
Then she says brightly after finally realizing what I was trying to
convey… ”Ah, yung may t….!” Even on the phone I could feel her blushing
like a red tomato after having said the four-letter word.
When a
prospective homeowner wishes to build “chalet,” oftentimes he does not
know what he is talking about. Technically speaking, a chalet does not
have a steeped roof—it is usually gently sloping with wide overhang
eaves. This is the typical house of herdsmen in the Alpine mountains.
And it is pronounced “sha LEIGH” not “cha LET.”
“Formica” is an
American brand of plastic laminate but we generically call all
materials of this type, “formica.” By the way, it is pronounced “for
MIGH kuh” not “FORM i kuh.” To the Filipino, brand names stick and
become generic after a while. In the same manner that brands like Joe
Bush, Katol, Flit, Chlorox, Frigidaire, Jeep, Kodak, Bee Chin, Kotex,
and Pentel Pen have stayed on. Even beer meant only San Miguel Pale
Pilsen for a while until the aggressive campaign of its competitor and
the advent of other types of ales and lagers were able to erase that
perception. “Styrofoam” is the brand name of Dow Chemical’s polystyrene.
If you want to be strict about it, “French doors” are usually a pair of
doors with glass panels or glass panes that open at the middle. These
are different from louver doors or persiana doors that do not have
glass.
Everyone in the country, except foreigners perhaps,
pronounces “vinyl” as “vi NEEL” when it is actually “VIGH nil.” The same
goes for “granite.” It should be “GRÆN it” with a short “i”, not “gra
NIGHT.” While we’re at it, we might as well mention the correct
pronunciation of the word “conduit.” Accent should be on the first
syllable. “KON dyoo it” (or “KON doo it”) not “kon DYOO it.” But for
“epoxy,” it is ”i PAHKS ee” not “E pok si.”
Many architects
call the room where the owners of the house sleep “master’s bedroom.“
Wrong. It should be “master bedroom” (used in the same token as “master
switch, master key, master plan”) to indicate the main bedroom of a
house.
The interment place for bones of the dead should be
called “ossuary” which is the correct term. Nowadays, with cemeteries
already congested, cremation is the practical alternative. A popular way
of raising funds for churches is to “sell” niches to the parishioners
where the urns containing the ashes of their beloved are kept usually in
the basement of the church—some sort of catacombs. The proper term for
the niche accommodating an urn for cinerary remains (ashes from the
cremation of a dead body) is “cinerarium.” On the other hand,
“columbarium” is the term for the sepulcher where these niches are
found. A “mortuary” (MOHR choo eri) is a place, especially a funeral
home, where dead bodies are kept prior to burial or cremation.
In this age of globalization, it is okay to remember Filipino
construction terms but we should also know how to write and say words
correctly—or at least know why we use these words wrongly.
