Just Whistle

Article by: Sarah Andrews, February 2007

La Gomera, a small, verdant island in the Canary Islands archipelago (and no, there's no relation between Silbo and canaries), is scored with plunging ravines and etched with steep cliffs. Simply put, it's impossible to get anywhere easily.

These days, winding highways and telephone lines ease communication between islanders. But 2,500 years ago, when it's thought the first settlers arrived from nearby northern Africa, Silbo developed as the perfect tool for sending messages back and forth across the rugged terrain. In ideal conditions, it could be heard up to four kilometres away, saving islanders from struggling up hill and down dale just to deliver a message to a neighbour.

When the first settlers likely arrived from nearby northern Africa, Silbo developed as the perfect tool for sending messages back and forth across the rugged terrain.

At first, Silbo was probably used as an emergency signal, but over time a full language developed. While other forms of whistled communications have existed in pockets of Greece, Turkey, China and Mexico, none is as developed as Silbo Gomero. When the Spanish conquered the island in the 15th century, Silbo (whose name stems from the Spanish word silbar, 'to whistle') adapted, and the language you can sometimes hear whistled in La Gomera's streets today mimics the tonal sounds of Spanish.

Unfortunately, you won't hear Silbo often - at least for now. Modern conveniences have all but killed the language; it's unnecessary in a world of mobile phones. It's been relegated to elderly islanders, who remember the whistles of their youth. In the past few years, however, the situation has changed dramatically.

In less than a decade, Silbo has gone from being La Gomera's near-forgotten heritage to being its prime cultural selling point. Conferences on Silbo, Silbo demonstrations around Spain, and studies about the language's history are all part of a high-priority government plan to resurrect the whistling language of La Gomera. In 2006 Silbo was proposed as a candidate for Unesco Oral Heritage status. If it makes the cut it will mean a hefty budget increase, more notoriety for its promoters, and a big morale boost for silbadores.

Most importantly for the language's future, Silbo has been a mandatory school subject since 2000. Across this island of 19,000 inhabitants, some 1,500 kids are getting 25 minutes a week of Silbo instruction. Many never master it, but they're exposed to the language their ancestors used for calling doctors and priests, delivering instructions and messages to neighbours, or organizing pick-up football games in the town plaza.

'Silbo helped our ancestors survive, and thanks to them we're all here. It's ours, and it's worth recuperating,' says Ayoze Rodríguez, 15, who studies Silbo at school in San Sebastián, the lively island capital. 'Working together, we can save our heritage. Now, lots of young people are learning it, and in six or seven years there will be a lot more people using Silbo,' he says.

In less than a decade, Silbo has gone from being La Gomera's near-forgotten heritage to being its prime cultural selling point.

Rodríguez is a Silbo success story. After going to his grandfather to learn whistling techniques - like how to use his hands to direct the sound, and where to place his fingers in his mouth to get certain pitches - Rodríguez later perfected his Silbo in school classes. Now he travels to other islands to give Silbo demonstrations, and even gave a performance before King Juan Carlos I when the Spanish monarch visited La Gomera. Yet in his daily life, he only uses Silbo occasionally to call to his Silbo-speaking friends or to practice, he says.

Silbo isn't something you can learn 'in a day', Rodríguez says. 'You need two or three months just to learn to make the sound with your fingers and your tongue.' To be able to recognize and reproduce words as whistles requires years of practice.

For non-silbadores, even the concept of Silbo can be hard to grasp.

Eugenio Darias, a Silbo teacher and the coordinator of Silbo classes across the island, explains it like this: 'When you whistle a song, you're whistling the tune of the song. But when you speak Silbo, you're whistling the words themselves. It's what we call an articulated language, though reduced to only the four consonants and two vowels we can distinguish in a whistle.'

Still can't imagine Silbo? Check out the sampling on the official Silbo Gomero website. Or listen to a short online conversation that translates as:

'Hey, Servando!'

'What?'

'Look, go tell Julio to bring the castanets.'

'OK. Hey, Julio!'

'What?'

'Lili says you should go get the kids and have them bring the castanets for the party.'

'OK, OK, OK.'

Even better, hear Silbo in person. Demonstrations are given daily at Las Rosas, in the Gomeran town of the same name.