My third trip to the "mother land" was filled with smiling relatives, personal reflections, and lots of shopping. Don’t judge – goods are really cheap in the Philippines!
Before landing in the Philippines I had a layover in Guam. Imagine how I felt eating both onion rings and onigiri in the same meal then washing it all down with a chocolate frappe from Seattle’s Best Coffee! Just a tad overwhelmed. I felt even more so when I was being driven down a highway with nine lanes watching billboards pass me by. My first meal in the Philippines was Hawaiian pizza delivered to my Lolo’s (Grandpa’s) house in Batangas from Domino’s. Over the next few days I was ecstatic about taking hot showers, eating vegetables every day, using fast internet at a personal residence, watching hair commercials on TV, climbing onto the back of jeepneys for quick transport, and shopping at actual malls. Of course, I loved catching up with my Lolo and various relatives and sharing my knowledge of Pohnpei with them. I also loved listening to my parents reminisce about their years in the Philippines and marveling at all of Manila’s changes.
The next stop on my trip was to Bulacan, where my dad’s side of the family resides. And what a huge family! I could not keep track of all the cousins running around, nor of aunts gossiping, nor of uncles roasting lechon (pig) over an open fire. During my time there I hung out with my parents and grandparents, went to mass in the church where my dad became Catholic, discussed the current state of affairs in the Philippines with knowledgeable aunts, shopped for capri pants while avoiding multitudes of sales ladies (no joke), and mistook chicharro (green onions) for chicharron (pig skin) which resulted in many laughs. I must also mention that I visited the Peace Corps office in the Philippines, which is a very swanky place, and met a PCV from Pohnpei who was medically evacuated to the country a few weeks back.
As much as I enjoyed seeing the relatives I never get to see, I could not help but feel like the perpetual outsider. Sure I’m related by blood, but it’s the ties of language and culture, communication and understanding, and memories made while spending time together that really make a family. Since I lacked all of those elements I was, well, out of place. No matter how much I tried to help out with chores or sit through conversations I did not understand, I really could not feel like part of the family. Ranging from my preference of showing respect to elders the American way (with shaking hands and hugs) instead of the Filipino way (mano-po), to the fact that I can’t even speak to my grandparents, I just felt like one huge failure. I flat-out failed at being Filipino. And that did not carry well with me. Sure, I could blame my parents for not teaching me Tagalog or my family back in the states for not sharing more about Filipino culture, but I put the emphasis of blame on myself. I should have tried harder to get my parents to talk to me in that funny language of theirs. I should have done more diligent research about Filipino customs and traditions. I should have been proud to be Filipino. But I wasn’t. All of that backfired on me this trip and since I couldn’t handle it, I broke down.
Why am I sharing all of this with you, dear reader? I would like everyone to embrace their heritage, whether it be Filipino, American, Korean, Italian, Chinese, what have you. Though I am the eternal mehn wai in Pohnpei I feel more at ease here than in the Philippines since I have genuine knowledge about its language and culture. How unfortunate is this? After my stint in Pohnpei is over I plan to remain in the United States and work towards the betterment of the country I truly consider my home. Not to say that I will abandon my pinoy pride. I will try to learn Tagalog and more about the traditional practices of the Philippines. But there will always be something holding me back. I don’t want this to happen to any of you, so please learn a little lesson from me.
Moving on…I went to the Philippines with only carry-on bags and returned with a piece of check-in luggage filled with clothes for me and food for my host family and friends. Excellent. I also came back armed with Filipino movies, k-pop magazines (mwahaha), and resolve that is sure to remain with me for the rest of my life. And I think that is a vacation well spent.
Before landing in the Philippines I had a layover in Guam. Imagine how I felt eating both onion rings and onigiri in the same meal then washing it all down with a chocolate frappe from Seattle’s Best Coffee! Just a tad overwhelmed. I felt even more so when I was being driven down a highway with nine lanes watching billboards pass me by. My first meal in the Philippines was Hawaiian pizza delivered to my Lolo’s (Grandpa’s) house in Batangas from Domino’s. Over the next few days I was ecstatic about taking hot showers, eating vegetables every day, using fast internet at a personal residence, watching hair commercials on TV, climbing onto the back of jeepneys for quick transport, and shopping at actual malls. Of course, I loved catching up with my Lolo and various relatives and sharing my knowledge of Pohnpei with them. I also loved listening to my parents reminisce about their years in the Philippines and marveling at all of Manila’s changes.
The next stop on my trip was to Bulacan, where my dad’s side of the family resides. And what a huge family! I could not keep track of all the cousins running around, nor of aunts gossiping, nor of uncles roasting lechon (pig) over an open fire. During my time there I hung out with my parents and grandparents, went to mass in the church where my dad became Catholic, discussed the current state of affairs in the Philippines with knowledgeable aunts, shopped for capri pants while avoiding multitudes of sales ladies (no joke), and mistook chicharro (green onions) for chicharron (pig skin) which resulted in many laughs. I must also mention that I visited the Peace Corps office in the Philippines, which is a very swanky place, and met a PCV from Pohnpei who was medically evacuated to the country a few weeks back.
As much as I enjoyed seeing the relatives I never get to see, I could not help but feel like the perpetual outsider. Sure I’m related by blood, but it’s the ties of language and culture, communication and understanding, and memories made while spending time together that really make a family. Since I lacked all of those elements I was, well, out of place. No matter how much I tried to help out with chores or sit through conversations I did not understand, I really could not feel like part of the family. Ranging from my preference of showing respect to elders the American way (with shaking hands and hugs) instead of the Filipino way (mano-po), to the fact that I can’t even speak to my grandparents, I just felt like one huge failure. I flat-out failed at being Filipino. And that did not carry well with me. Sure, I could blame my parents for not teaching me Tagalog or my family back in the states for not sharing more about Filipino culture, but I put the emphasis of blame on myself. I should have tried harder to get my parents to talk to me in that funny language of theirs. I should have done more diligent research about Filipino customs and traditions. I should have been proud to be Filipino. But I wasn’t. All of that backfired on me this trip and since I couldn’t handle it, I broke down.
Why am I sharing all of this with you, dear reader? I would like everyone to embrace their heritage, whether it be Filipino, American, Korean, Italian, Chinese, what have you. Though I am the eternal mehn wai in Pohnpei I feel more at ease here than in the Philippines since I have genuine knowledge about its language and culture. How unfortunate is this? After my stint in Pohnpei is over I plan to remain in the United States and work towards the betterment of the country I truly consider my home. Not to say that I will abandon my pinoy pride. I will try to learn Tagalog and more about the traditional practices of the Philippines. But there will always be something holding me back. I don’t want this to happen to any of you, so please learn a little lesson from me.
Moving on…I went to the Philippines with only carry-on bags and returned with a piece of check-in luggage filled with clothes for me and food for my host family and friends. Excellent. I also came back armed with Filipino movies, k-pop magazines (mwahaha), and resolve that is sure to remain with me for the rest of my life. And I think that is a vacation well spent.