In Mindanao, ‘Amping’ was the First Binsaya word I Learned
Bejamin Ambros King Sumabat
During my time in Mindanao, each farewell was accompanied by a simple “Amping,” and a gentle smile playing on their lips. The first time I heard it, I didn’t need to ask about its meaning. “Amping means Ingat,” they explained. I began using “Amping” to bid my goodbyes. Over time, I also picked up other words—gugma1, daghang salamat2, lami3, abi nako4. If I were to recall all the words I learned, I could just count them on my fingers. Yet, these words only approximate the feelings I harbored for you. On the day you left, I found myself wordless, conveying my emotions through silent glances as I watched you walk away until your figure faded from view. You took your small suitcase and packed your things—books, shirts, patterned polo shirts, oversized maongs, your only pair of white rubber shoes, and your daily leather slippers.
In my mind,
I waited for you to ask me,
to include me, but perhaps your small suitcase was already full of all the necessities you needed to bring. In any case, maybe there’s a tiny space for me even in the unnoticed corners of your pocket, tote bag, purse, or perhaps in the in-betweens of your backpack, or even just in your heart. If you had offered for me to leave with you, I would have taken your hand and we have faced the world together, because being with you was never leaving—it was always going home.
Your departure caught me unprepared. There was no time to prepare,
no space to maneuver.
Perhaps that’s why the first Binisaya word you taught me was “Amping,” because even before love, there exists the seed of departure. Before you loved me, you were already prepared to eventually leave. That day you decide to leave me, all I can do is offer my best wishes. As you move forward without us, let me send you off with a soft voice and faint smile—Amping kanunay, Ingat ka palagi.5
1 Love
2 Thank you
3 Delicious
4 So I thought
5 I hope you always take care.