Kumusta?

A philosophy major once asked me, “Kumusta ka?” I gave the expected cliché, “okay lang” and he went on raving on how a UP student shouldn’t ever answer that question with “okay lang.” He didn’t remember what a UP student’s reply should be, or why that opinion is justified, but he, apparently, shared that view with one of our philosophy instructors, Ma’am S (Please ask her if you can; I still want to know why).


Had I been brave enough (I wasn’t and he was my senior), I would have bashed the question altogether. I hate being asked “Kumusta ka na?” and its permutations in any language (I can understand it in several ways in five languages). Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate having people care how I’m doing. What I hate is that very question, because it’s so vague and open-ended. I mean, what exactly do you want to know? What do you want me to tell you? If you really cared to know anything about me, why don’t you ask about it directly? How’s school, how’s your mom, how’s your lovelife, what’s new with you, what did you do during vacation, are you still alive, why aren’t you replying, how are your plants, etc. are more preferable questions. They can be answered concretely. The obscure “kumusta ka,” on the other hand, invites nothing more than the standard and similarly obscure “ok lang.” Besides, the expression is being thrown so casually that it’s uncertain whether you’re expecting an honest reply, or you just meant it as a greeting.

It has occurred to me, however, that people don’t share this perception so I’ve been putting up with it, adding a short report on anything to which I deem the person can relate. Afterall, sincerity has nothing to do with the words used. Some people might just not know what to ask, but may be, nevertheless, interested to know. Without meaning to be, I’m pretty equipped in screening them.

For instance, there’s this friend with whom I don’t talk nor hang out much, but she’s been asking updates from me pretty consistently. When we finally met recently after summer vacation, she pulled me aside and asked me the annoying question. When I gave the similarly obscure answer, she became more specific. And then, she hit the right question that made me tell her one of those things that I haven’t been able to tell anyone yet. She was able to comfort me about it, leaving me dumbfounded and amazed on how smoothly it went.

There’s this other friend who loves being asked how she is because that makes her feel loved. An extrovert, she can accommodate the question anytime, anywhere. Naturally, for her, asking it would be an expression of love, so I try my best to answer her whenever she turns her attention to me. An introvert, I find it difficult to open up, removed from a certain atmosphere. She, fully aware of my introversion, would try to arrange that atmosphere. The success rate is definitely not a hundred percent, but I don’t really keep count.

Finally, there’s this friend who gets the question right, but doesn’t always get the answer because of the way he asks it. During our org’s lunch, he asked me what I did during vacation. It was a segway from what the group was talking about, and he directed the attention to me as a joke which he, nonetheless, meant very well. So I answered, “Seryoso ba yan?”  which cued the group’s relentless cracks on his character. After a while of defending his sincerity, someone pointed out that I still hadn’t answered the question. In fact, I had forgotten it was asked.