OpinionsMadahanChildren's counting-out rhymes

Children’s counting-out rhymes

-

- Advertisment -spot_img

BY MYRNA PEÑA-REYES

Computers, Smart Phones, iPhones, Facebook were decades away when I was growing up in Cagayan de Oro right after World War II. Without TV, radios, or phones in our homes, the children in our neighborhood played together outdoors. Our games involved muscle coordination and physical activity.

It was also common to hear us singing or chanting rhymes as part of our games. The street was our playground, especially on moonlit nights. We were typical children of our generation doing as other children around the world: talking at the same time, laughing out loud, teasing and yelling at each other, and singing or chanting snatches of rhymes in our games.

Children are natural rhymers or rhyme-sters. They delight in reciting and making up rhymes about each other: “Boy, baboy/ Iyang nawong/ Bagag simod/ dakog ilong.” (Boy, pig/ his face/ thick lips/ big nose.) Or counting-out rhymes in their games. The Americans taught Filipino children: “Eenie, meeni, miny mo/ Catch a bunny by the toe/ If he hollers, let him go/ Eeni, meeni, miny mo.” (Earlier, the Yankee colonists had learned this from their Mother England.)

Counting-Out Rhymes (COR) are used when choosing who will be “It” when playing games like hide-and-seek, or in choosing up sides in, say, patintero or tubig-tubig. “Birong” or “birong-birong” was the term we used for “counting-out.” We’d say before starting hide-n-seek: “Mag-birong ta” (Let’s count out) or “Mag birong-birong ta.” Then we’d stand or sit in a circle and maybe chant: “Birong birorang/ Ampay tikurang / Bundo, sipit, pako.” (Count-out birorang/ Ampay tikurang/ Mountain, claw, wing.)

The words in a COR may make sense or are just nonsense, not translatable, are there for the sake of their rhyming sounds which account for much of the delight, humor, and charm in a COR. Some CORs are sung to a tune; others, just chanted. Many are silly, with no meaningful connection between their lines, but the overall effect of the whole rhyme is humorous, if not mysterious, as in “Mountain, claw, wing” above. In fact, unless the words or lines in a COR make obvious sense together, attempts to translate a COR could be a game in itself, leading to more mystifying results, depending on the translator’s abilities. (I am aware that, in this regard, my own tentative attempts are sorely inadequate.)

During the Spanish period, a popular COR went: “Pinpin sarapin/ Agua, ronda peconda / San Miguel Arcangel.” (“Pinpin of sarapin/ Water, round of song peconda/ St. Michael Archangel.”) I heard another version of this in the late 50s from an old woman who was born around the late 1890s in Ayuquitan (the old name for San Jose, Negros Oriental): “Pinpin daplin/ Silyo manting/ Agua, ronda/ San Miguel Kanghel.” (Pinpin by the side/ Silyo manting/ Water, round of song/ St. Michael Angel.)

One can see how the rhyme evolved over time and place, which is the way folklore works. There is no “correct” version since all versions are legitimate. The original version, or author, is impossible to pinpoint, although folklore scholars may be able to verify the dates when the different versions were heard in an area. But the rhyme by then had undergone changes over time from the folks’ tinkering, had become their own joint property; hence, the term “folklore,” the “lore” — traditional teachings, sayings, beliefs, practices, etc. — of the common “folk.”

The same old woman told me another COR in her childhood: “Bunsod tibad balabad/ Tigpis kolapis/ Inukban/ Kaban.” (Fishpen tibad balabad/ Tigpis kulapis/ Opened/ Trunk) This delightful rhyme may have no meaning except to charm us.

The most well-known COR in the country (which may have evolved from the foregoing Pinpin sarapin) that we sang was: “Pinpin de sarapin/ Kutsilyo de almacin/ Haw-haw de carabao/ Batotin.” (Pinpin of sarapin/ Knife from store/ Haw-haw of carabao/ Batotin.) As children, we would append the word “Bactin” (Piglet) after “Batotin.” (Or if grownups weren’t around, the two-syllable word for the male anatomy that was taboo for us to mention, bringing on raucous laughter.)

Our Tagalog friends taught us additional lines: “Sayang pula/ Tatlong pera/ Sayang Puti/ Tatlong salapi.” (Red skirt/ Three money/ White skirt/ Three money.) But we skipped these last lines because children are impatient, and we preferred the shorter version.

There is no meaningful connection between the lines in the COR. Its catchy bouncy tune, rhymes, intriguing imagery, and humorous line “Haw-haw de carabao” make it memorable. (My own imagination suggests that, maybe, the carabao will be killed with the kutsilyo, so the Haw-haw is the carabao’s cry. Black humor, which children relate to, but the origin of the rhyme is unknown, and so is its intended meaning.)

The younger generation has their own CORs, although today, most of the children’s computer-based activities are privately pursued. But when they do interact with each other, the CORs are played as games in themselves, not leading to other more physically active games like ours may have done. The Tagalog “Sawsaw suka mahuli taya” (Dipping sauce, vinegar, caught, “It”) is one such example. As a nephew explains the game: “Each player simulates the dipping motion while chanting ‘Sawsaw suka’; then when coming to ‘mahuli taya,’ everybody stops the dipping motion, pull their hands out and extend them either palms up or palms down. The one who ends up extending his or her palm differently from the others is It.”

Another COR using the hands is Jack-n-Poy or “Rock, paper, stone” which is still in use today. We would say, Mag piks ta!, before plating the game. We would chant: “Jack-n-Poy/ Hele-hele hoy/ Kinsay mapilde/ Siya’y unggoy.” (Jack-n-Poy/ Hele-hele hoy/ Whoever loses/ Is the monkey.) The monkey is “It.” This is an example of a COR whose lines taken together make sense.

CORs may be games in themselves or may lead to other games. After an “It” is chosen, or sides are assigned, a larger game may follow like Hide-and-Seek, etc. But usually, the above two preceding CORS stand by themselves, especially with today’s physically-challenged children who are used to sitting inside their homes, unlike us who relished physically-active games outdoors.

Another COR I learned in the hills during the war was: “Birong-birong ingkulyada/ Sta. Isabel/ Bibingka, maruya/ Unod sa kahel.” (Count-out, count-out ingkulyada/ Saint Isabel/ Rice cake, fried banana/ Fruit of kahel.) It was sung to a charming melody. But no one of our playmates in Cagayan de Oro knew this COR except my siblings and I.

In 1947-48, while vacationing with relatives in Oroquieta, a cousin taught us a COR that she may have learned from another place, sung to a tune: “Supamaymit/ Saymit-say/ amay-amay/ Hawayan para angay/ Hopay aring hopay/ Dotsing-dotsing dotsay.” It doesn’t mean anything, but the rhymes and alliterations make it delightfully funny.

Another COR I heard in my childhood was: “Pito-pito langoring/ Siyam-siyam kumaging/ Ulo-ulo karnero/ Pista Domingo.” (Seven-seven langoring/ Nine-nine kumaging/ Head-head sheep/ Fiesta Sunday.) The “magical” numbers 7 and 9 often appear in children’s rhymes, like: “1 2 3 4 5 6 7/ All good children go to heaven/ Some fly east/ Some fly west/ Some fly over the cuckoo’s nest.”


It’s been suggested that the origin of CORs may have come from the divination practice of ancient societies in getting chance results, as when sacrificial victims were chosen, or in the foretelling of the results of events when the priest/priestess and participants stood or sat in a circle and chanted or sang traditional incantations. They were rhymed since rhyming aids the memory. Most people today don’t remember CORs. The younger ones usually don’t even know what they are. They wonder why I would bother about them: “Maka unsa man na?” is their usual comment, and I have no ready answer. Maybe it’s because I cherish recalling the sound of words and phrases I found delightful and charming because of their humor, intriguing imagery, and sound for the sake of sound’s sake.

So much more can be studied and written about CORs that’s enjoyable if one has the inclination. Maybe it’s because I believe in keeping alive a part of our cultural literary history. Maybe it’s because I’m just an old sentimental fool. Madahan!

(Back to MetroPost HOME PAGE)


 

 

Latest news

City budget is dead  — Dgte Council

    Perdices resigns as Finance Committee chair “The Motion raised by Councilor Baldado for the approval of the 2025 annual...

Comelec to put LGUs  in ‘yellow’ alert

    Majority of the cities and municipalities in Negros Oriental are likely to be placed under ‘yellow’ category for the...

Who wins?

    The City Council’s Friday special session was meant to be about one matter: approving the 2025 annual budget of...

Canlaon completes P12M infra

    despite eruption The local government of Canlaon City turned over this week more than P12 million worth of infrastructure projects...
- Advertisement -spot_imgspot_img

Coop budgets P9M for CSR

    The Perpetual Help Community Cooperative, Inc. has lined up projects this year for its community development program in Negros...

PNP augments force for May polls

    The first batch of augmentation force from the Philippine National Police that will assist in disaster response, and perform...

Must read

City budget is dead  — Dgte Council

    Perdices resigns as Finance Committee chair “The Motion raised by...

Comelec to put LGUs  in ‘yellow’ alert

    Majority of the cities and municipalities in Negros Oriental...
- Advertisement -spot_imgspot_img

You might also likeRELATED
Recommended to you