Code-switching

A bilingual person can change from one language to another in the middle of a sentence, and this code-switching is a topic of study for linguists.

Tom feels most comfortable code-switching between his two main languages.

Filipinos don't believe in language purity, as they mix languages, typically Tagalog and English, freely, this code-switching being called Taglish. Tagalog proper is already full of Spanish loanwords and borrowings from other languages, like Hokkien. The Philippines is under the American sphere of influence, and code-switching is how Filipinos deal with modernization. Tagalog has an "old attic" of vintage words, with which modern Filipinos are less familiar, but which are still in common use in rural areas and with old folk.

Code-switching between languages is common practice in the Philippines. It's not just between Tagalog and English, but also with Hokkien, or with the many, many indigenous languages on the islands. Filipinos don't believe in language purity. Spanish words are embedded like gold nuggets inside many indigenous languages.

Filipino culture as it pertains to the indigenous language is highly aural-oral. It's not just Tagalog, as there are regional and local languages, as well. English as fizzy faddish words is part of the common code-switching of the masses, whilst Spanish loanwords sit in feeling at home in the stew. It's a linguistic hodgepodge. Most just enjoy long hours of chitchat or watching television, videos, or cinema commonly in the indigenous language. English sounds and text don't really appeal to the masses, but English is a hesitantly established piece of furniture, useful for understanding the outside world. Filipinos generally are not known as avid readers, except for elite people maybe entrenched in the margins of the Anglosphere. Literature in the indigenous language is still relatively scarce.

In the beginning of the twentieth century, the Philippine elite started switching from Spanish to English as the archipelagic elitist language, especially in written form, as a consequence of the Spanish-American War in 1898. Meanwhile, indigenous languages have continued to be the aural-oral mainstay, with Spanish loanwords being quite common. In 1937, administration chose Tagalog as the basis of the national language. As time passed, code-switching between English and indigenous languages became more prevalent. As a result, the Philippines is a linguistic hodgepodge. English is like an effervescent pink drink, and Tagalog is a grey shark in the seas. Spanish still rings nostalgically of bygone majestic good ol' days for many Filipinos. Tagalog is still not as fully "intellectualized" as its cousin Indonesian, which Indonesians use in university-level education and has extensive literature.

Born in the time of The Beatles, my generation in the Philippines was the product of more nationalism and less Americanization than what my parents experienced, born during the Swing and Big Band music era. It was in 1937 that the Philippine government adopted Tagalog, an Austronesian language, as the basis of the national language. Filipinos born during the time of "King of Pop" Michael Jackson had much more Tagalog indoctrination, and television shows, anime, and cinema became more Tagalog. Later Filipinos born during the reign of Lady Gaga became more exposed to the Internet, where English was ubiquitous. With floodgates open, the archipelagic nation once again became inundated with the colonial language. It still seemed though that the reading habit was not for the majority because most books there were in English, which the elite gobbled up. The Philippines was a country of about 200 native Austronesian languages, whose ancient origin was Taiwan. What school children learned was Tagalog (alias Filipino) and English, but Taglish, the patois of code-switching between the two languages, was the de facto oral-aural lingua franca in the islands. English was the main written language.

On its way to Americanization since the Spanish-American War of 1898, in the 1930s, the Philippines was still somewhat a Hispanic country. Manila was the 9th largest Spanish-speaking city in this world in 1930 with 324 552 inhabitants. The switch to English for at least written communication was set in motion. Adding to the linguistic confusion, in 1937, the Philippine government chose Tagalog, out of about 200 native Austronesian languages, as the basis of the national language, because it was already dominant in many parts of the archipelago. By the late 20th century, Taglish, the patois of code-switching between Tagalog and English, became the de facto oral-aural lingua franca in the islands, despite that Tagalog (alias Filipino) and English were separate studied subjects in school. English was the window to the external world, whilst Taglish became the familiar chit-chat on the streets and in the domestic media. Spanish embedded itself as many natural-sounding loanwords within Tagalog, Taglish, and other native languages. Tagalog had not been fully "intellectualized" as a language, as many great international works had not been translated into it. Tagalog used in non-humanities fields of science remained only experimental. Artificial Intelligence and machine translation might give Tagalog a "kangaroo-hopping" boost.

There is such a thing as "Filipino English." Most Filipinos cannot pronounce English the way Americans do. So, when they speak English, they speak with a Filipino accent. There are also special local words that creep into it. Such includes food words like "hopia" and "pancit." But most of the time, the archipelagic lingua franca is really Taglish, the patois of code-switching between Tagalog and English. Filipinos reserve speaking pure English when Anglophone foreigners are present.

Xoqolat is my Chocolate Dream Conlang. It allows the code-switching between Lojban structure words and the bulk of Interlingua, a combination of the purple and the blue. It is really still a prototype of a super-duper conlang.

As with many bilingual families, it was normal to observe frequent code-switching at our dinner table.

Within the English language, a good example of code-switching in daily life is weaving back and forth between African American Vernacular English and General American English.

In addition, our combined syntax-function approach sheds new light on a syntactic analysis of code-switching.