It was from poet-songwriter Gary Granada that I first heard that the Filipino word tahan should be translated as peace. For tahan does not mean to stop, or halt or end. Tahan is more approximated by the phrase “be comforted,” “be consoled,” or “be at peace.”
No wonder tahan na is most often uttered by a parent to a crying child. It is not a plea for the weeping or the wailing to stop, but an assurance that someone who cares is present and will respond. “Are you hungry? I will feed you. Are you naked and cold? I will clothe you. Are you afraid, or lonely or alone? I will accompany you. I am here now my child.” Tahan na, anak, tahan.
It is from tahan that the Filipino word for home — tahanan — is rooted. Tahanan, etymologically speaking, originally meant a place of peace. It is not an ordinary habitation, or just about any other dwelling or place of abode. There is always more to it. More than the place is the peace.
Even our language constantly reminds us of our innermost and innate desire: for our “home” to be that place of comfort, consolation, serenity and peace. We dream and believe that to go “home” is actually to journey to happiness, and to experience what the Church fathers call as a “foretaste of heaven.”
It is not thus surprising that tahanan is right there — at home, where one’s family is.
It starts with marriage — the Filipino phrase for which is “lumagay sa tahimik.” Literally, the bride and groom anticipate, with much eagerness, joy and excitement, a peaceful life ahead of them. But the celebration of the sacrament of marriage is a momentous and foundational event, described most beautifully in this wise:
“How can I ever express the happiness of a marriage joined by the Church, strengthened by an offering, sealed by a blessing, announced by angels, and ratified by the Father? . . . How wonderful the bond between two believers, now one in hope, one in desire, one in discipline, one in the same service!....” (Familiaris Consortio 30).
With the marriage comes the family, especially when the marital union is blessed with children (“mag-anak”).
In a pilot and pioneering 2007 study, “Measuring Progress of Philippine Society: Gross National Product or Gross National Happiness?” by Romulo A. Virola and Jessamyn O. Encarnacion, one of the most salient findings is that family life is the most important source of happiness for many Pinoys.
In Cartoon Network’s “New Generations 2012” survey, Filipino kids said quality time spent with parents is one of the top two things that they are most happy about (tied at 87% with “appearance,” followed by friends (85%), health (85%), hobbies and interests (79%), and having people they can trust and talk to (77%).
Tahanan, indeed, is still home. Home is tahanan; and this is not a translation, but a tautology. It is also a challenge, not just for individuals but for the nation as well.
Our laws acknowledge the crucial and foundational nature of marriage and family to the life of this nation. The Philippine Constitution recognizes marriage as “the foundation of the family and shall be protected by the State” (Art. XV, Sec. 2). The same Constitution “recognizes the Filipino family as the foundation of the nation. Accordingly, it shall strengthen its solidarity and actively promote its total development (Art. XV, Sec. 1). In so stating, the Constitution most succinctly describes from whom, through whom and for whom the State exists — the family.
The State knows, as individuals and families have long known, that amidst the turmoil and turbulence of this world, the painstaking struggles and the daily grind, the raging debates and opposing claims for truth, all we want is all we need: tahanan.