Notes from the Balikbayan
We are home again after spending 2 weeks in my “home-country” which is defined in the Ebuna’s Dictionary as the place where you reached your maximum height. It will be almost two years since I left. My husband contended that I will be shocked.
Was I?
Not really but I certainly saw things in a different perspective. The humidity, dirty air and dusty surroundings were familiar. I didn’t mind eating rice three times a day but I must admit that I felt uncomfortably full most of the time. I had mango shake whenever it’s on the menu. I felt stuffed most of the time but eating monggo and tuyo, escabeche, sinigang na lechon was too irresistible.
So what took me by surprise?
Di laging masaya
What surprised me as soon as I landed and walked through the airport was that people aren’t as friendly and happy as I thought they were. Was it always like that? Have I been telling myself too often the cliche that Filipinos are happy people? How do you arrive at such generalizations? Have we been always characterized as such and how do we compare exactly to other races?
Yupi-yuping UP
I always though that my alma mater had character. It was an impressive campus for me (atleast 12 years ago). I recall that some of the ceilings at AS were broken. I particularly remember one room where the ceiling fan was dangerously hanging on to the ceiling. The fan was working but you might want to rethink sitting under it! I was awed by the size of the campus and I always regarded its brokendown state as “quaintness.” As I walk through SC in search for a cheap mananahi, I found myself wondering why UP looks the same or even worst. The SC was littered with posters and it looked the same. The UP theater looked like it had a gangrene. I didn’t get to look around more but what I saw depressed me. Why does our state university look like this? After all the countless malls sprouting like mushrooms all over Manila, the sight of my rundown alma mater is quite depressing.
Sulay lang gud
Dugay-dugay na sad na wala ko nagsulti ug bisaya. Di man gani ko kahinumdum kung kanus-a ko nagsulat sa bisaya. Lisud baya uy. Taas (Dako?) kaayo ang temtasyon nga mag-ingles na lang.
Luoy baya ang akong mga anak. Dili pa gihapon kabalo mag-istorya sa tagalog o bisaya. Lisod makapangita ug libro nga tagalog, asa na lang kaha kung bisaya. Wala pa nako gisulayan and Miramesa library pero basin sila naay pipila ka libro. Hay, basta pag-uli nako muagto gyud ko ug National Bookstore or Powerbooks.
Murag kani lang ang akong kaya. Ang akong huna-huna gakapa-kapa.
(Switch to Tagalog)
Baka mas madali. Nahihirapan akong makahanap ng tamang salita sa Bisaya. Nakakapanibago. Nakakagulintang. Una kong lengwahe ang Bisaya at lumaki akong ito ang gamit sa araw-araw.
(Switch to English)
It’s amazing how 2 years of speaking minimal to nil of Filipino turns me into nothing but a tongue-twisted Pinay. I really wish I had the consistency and patience to teach my children my mother tongue. Yet the lack of patience defeats the wanting. Like always. I wonder how helpful our 2 weeks in the Philippines this April will be. I’m sure majority of those talking to my children will willingly revert to English when speaking with them. We shall see.
Name change, Part 2
There’s less energy and time required when you opt to keep your maiden name.
It was wishful thinking to think that my I’m done and over with name changes. Travel, and name changes doesn’t really blend well together especially when you’re transitioning from maiden name to married name. My travel documents are still in my maiden name while my green card is in my married name. So when my husband books our flight to Germany under my maiden name, (you guess it right!) there’s bound to be some conflict. So now I need to amend my passport, my mileage card while applying for a visa (under my old or new name, who knows?)
Once, when I travelled under my maiden name but when asked for an ID I was unable to produce an ID that was still in my maiden name. I had to step aside and go though extra security measures. Meaning: taking of my shoes wasn’t enough, I had to empty my bag unceremoniously and I was “searched.” Because, this is America, a female security officer methodically run her hands through my body searching for items that will link me to a terrorist group. Pretty hysterical.
Almost 1.5 years after getting married, I still hesitate when asked to write my middle name. In the Philippines, your middle name is your maiden family name whereas in the US, it’s your “second name” (Michelle, in my case). I’m sure, I’ve used both one time or the other and that is bound to hunt me down for “Name Change, Part 3″
