Most Filipinos are connected through the common and official language of Tagalog (or Filipino, to be politically correct; “Tagalog” implies a regional bias), which has echoes in many of the country’s regional dialects. Many words in Ilonggo (or Hiligaynon, again to be politically correct) are the same as in Tagalog and many more are similar, but often shortened: the Filipino bulaklak (flower) becomes bulak in Ilonggo; lumilipad (to fly) is cut to lupad; palaka (frog) shrinks to paka.
The result is that many people speak two languages that are separate but also similar in many ways. Naturally the mixing of the two languages results in a certain linguistic confusion when trying to distinguish between the two. Frequently I will ask whether a particular word is Tagalog or Ilonggo and get conflicting responses. Some people will say Tagalog, some will say Ilonggo, some will say Kinaray-a or another other nearby dialect. The line between languages often isn’t distinct even among locals.
Moreover, even regional dialects can vary from province to province or even town to town. Some of the words we learned during our pre-service training are totally unknown to my coworkers: they couldn’t make heads or tails of abyon, the word we were taught for friend (they always use migo or miga, from the Spanish), although I’ve talked to other volunteers in the Ilonggo region who use the word normally. Many of my kids didn’t recognize butigone, the word I learned for liar; they use tigalon.
Conflicting definitions of words are common as well. Everyone seems to agree that buong means crazy, but I was told that buong-buong means something more like silly. Others have told me that no, buong-buong means very crazy, following the doubling-for-emphasis pattern. Incidentally, I’m a big fan of the doubling. I frequently double words that have no business being doubled just for fun: dance becomes saot-saot, fly turns into lupad-lupad. These just complement the existing double-verbs, like chikka-chikka (chat), libot-libot or lagaw-lagaw (stroll), picture-picture (to photograph), and balik-balik (which means to go back and forth between two locations. Balik means to return, so actually the doubling makes complete sense here).
Another element of Ilonggo that I love are the succinct slangy phrases that say a lot in few words. Maupod ka means something like you are going/coming with, but it can stand on its own in context. Example:
”Makadto kami sa tinapayan. Maupod ka?” (“We’re going to the bakery. Are you coming with us?”)
The best thing is that there’s not even a verb in the sentence. Upod just means “with.”
Another phrase I’m fond of is waay gid, which can mean never or absolutely not. Gid is an emphasizer and waay usually means no or nothing, but it’s used in other ways too – waay siya means he/she is not here.
Ilonggo is a fun language to learn in a lot of ways, but it’s also very frustrating for me sometimes. The structure is often totally different from English or the Romance languages, and since we never learned proper grammar (our language training was more focused on conversation), it’s easy to get confused. I’m huya (shy) about speaking to adults in the local language – they’re appreciative of the effort, but they also very much enjoy mocking foreign attempts to speak dialect. It’s much easier for me to converse with kids. As far as listening comprehension goes, it totally depends on who I’m listening to: I can often easily understand conversations between my coworkers, but others are simply incomprehensible to me because of unfamiliar accents or words and the speed at which they speak.