Hey, don't sell us short !
If we're going to do stories...
Deep in the dark recesses of the last millennium I was hired to be the main character in an interactive laser disc (yes, that long ago) Tagalog instruction program contracted by the US State Dept. They needed a Tagalog-speaking white guy and I was in the down and out in Manila and Davao phase... another story.
This got surreal when I saw the script, which had been prepared by a woman who had apparently been DCs top Tagalog instructor for a few decades, during which time she had apparently not been home. I speak gutter Tagalog well enough to pass for local on the phone. This thing was completely incomprehensible, like another language. Half the Filipinos I showed it to couldn't understand it. The other half was like "damn, my grandparents used to talk like this when I was a little kid". To make it more complicated, the instructor had apparently given strict orders that not a word was to be changed.
To make a long story short, I recruited a bunch of local stage actors to play the Pinoy parts, including the girlfriend of the day, who was a comedian by profession and a bit of a wild thing. We quickly realized that the people doing the filming and recording didn't have a clue what we were actually saying. They went home, blissfully unaware, with a course in modern urban Tagalog, a bit raunchy in places but eminently usable.
I'd like to think we did someone a favor, but the scene when they unpacked it would have been something to behold.