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Dios ti agngina – or how to say “Thank You” in 3008AD.
I found it hard to believe then (almost half a century ago) but I have heard some old foreign missionaries who did bible translations into various Philippine dialects say that as far as they were concerned the Ilocano dialect (or Iloko as they referred to it) is by far the richest, the most unique and purest of the many Malay or indigenous languages they encountered.
Dios ti agngina is a good example. Literally it means “May God grant it (whatever good deed/thing you did) its true value.” Or, to be more precise, “may God grant you the recompense that I, by myself, cannot adequately offer in return.” Or, how could I possibly evaluate and repay what you did for me. Let the good Lord do it for me. It sort of reminds me of a prayer that the priest recites (or used to) at Mass: “Quid retribuam Domino pro omnibus quae retribuit mihi. Calicem salutaris accipiam et nomen domini invocabo” (taken from Ps.116, 12-13). The Hon. Delia Domingo Albert, former Sec. of Foreign Affairs, on her conferment of the degree of Doctor of Humanities, Honoris Causa by PWU sometime in 2004, said as much, adding: “I find no expression of gratitude more apt than the Ilocano “Dios ti agngina.”
It somehow bespeaks of the culture and deep religious conviction of the Ilocano. It is a culture that puts a premium on the virtue of gratitude and takes pains to find the right words to say so. What is infinitely more admirable, it gives tribute and recognition to the Source of all graces and blessings. I have tried to search for a rough equivalent in all the major languages of the world but found nothing that even comes close. To begin with, “thank you” like many English or American idioms hardly makes any sense. For instance, I cringe whenever I hear a GRO or beauty queen contestant utter the phrase “Well, in fairness …” Or, a talk show host saying: “at the end of the day…” While we all know what it’s supposed to mean or to convey, it’s almost as meaningful or meaningless or trite as the words “good” or “nice.”
Without meaning any disrespect, what could possibly be the basis or rationale for such words as “gracias,” “grazie,” “merci,” “danke,” or “arigato?” If the whole idea is to show some sense of gratitude or appreciation for some good thing or deed, some kindness or blessing, should we not also in the same breath give some recognition to the source of such goodness? St. Paul put it rather succinctly: “For you have nothing that was not given you. If you have received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift (from God)?” 1 Cor.4:7. In other words, while you’re in the process of expressing some gratitude, why not go all the way? Why don’t you give credit where credit is due?
The situation becomes even more incongruous when the other party, perhaps out of modesty, replies: “Oh, don’t mention it.” The Spanish/Portuguese equivalent of “de nada.” “Obrigado/a.” “De nada.” Then it becomes an “in-denial” situation. If the person truly believes that everything comes as a gift from God, instead of engaging in false modesty and denying the good deed, he could very well instead point upstairs as the one deserving of all gratitude.
It is also interesting to note that there is hardly any other Philippine dialect which offers a rough equivalent. Virtually everybody, including the Visayans, seem to have settled for“salamat” or “salamat, po.” Then, it gets worse when we try to say it in English: “teynkyu.” When we keep on repeating it: “teynkyu, teynkyu.” Or, when we try to abbreviate it: “teynks.” To an American soldier at war, that may sound more like a warning cry that some Russian tanks are coming.
But has anybody in the Philippines ever tried to tell us exactly what “salamat” means, its etymological origin or rationale? I doubt that it came from Magat Salamat (1500-1589), son of Rajah Matanda. He was more of a war freak. Yet we pride ourselves as a people for our deep sense of gratitude (“utang na loob”) along with our traditional sense of hospitality. Yet word experts and anthropologists will tell you that words tell volumes about a people. For instance, they say that some indigenous people in Alaska have a hundred words to describe “snow” in all its forms and nuances.
Of course, our Bicol kababayans may suggest that they have “Dios mabalos.” Unfortunately, however, not having had any exposure in Bicol culture whatsoever, I cannot relate somehow. So for now, I’ll stick with a good word: “Dios ti agngina (dta),” a phrase our American friends would have to be born again to be able to pronounce it. And they had better start learning to say it soon.
With all the Ilocanos scattered all over the world (they were our first OFWs), “Dios ti agngina” might eventually be the only way to say “thank you” in the lingua franca in 3008AD. Dta. JAMES L.
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