po

Drop po into a sentence and you have shown respect — to anyone older than you, to a stranger, to someone in authority. Leave it out with your grandmother and you'll sound cold, even if every other word is perfect.

• Salamat po.Thank you.
• Magandang umaga po.Good morning.
• Ano po ang pangalan ninyo?What is your name?
• Pasensya na po.Sorry / excuse me.

Where it goes. Po slips in right after the first word — Ano po ang… — or lands at the end of a set greeting, as in Magandang umaga po. It never starts a sentence and never takes stress.

Its partner, opo. When the answer is yes, oo becomes opo. For no, hindi becomes hindi po. You'll also hear the softer ho and oho — same job, a shade less formal.

The same respect that lives in po has a gesture: pagmamano. You'll meet it the moment you walk into a Filipino home where an elder is sitting.

1. Approach the elder and bow slightly.
2. Take their right hand in yours.
3. Press the back of their hand gently to your forehead as you say Mano po.
4. They answer with a blessing — often Kaawaan ka ng Diyos, "may God have mercy on you."

It happens on arriving and on leaving, at family gatherings, at Christmas — and it runs down the whole line of elders in the room, grandparents first, then aunts and uncles. Children are nudged toward it before they can say the words.

And nobody is a stranger. Filipinos extend family titles to almost everyone. The woman selling you mangoes is Ate. The driver is Kuya. Your friend's mother is Tita, never her first name. Using a bare name where a title belongs is the same misstep as dropping po.

Ate

Older sister — or any woman slightly older

Kuya

Older brother — or any man slightly older

Tita / Tito

Aunt / uncle — your parents' generation

Lola / Lolo

Grandmother / grandfather