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By Giselle Segovia
Let me start with a tiny unabashed disclaimer
that I for one definitely enjoy imported possessions. Moreover,
being the kind of average Filipino who has centuries of that special
mixed-race DNA pulsing through my veins—I am quite helplessly,
easily impressed by foreign brands. Suffice to say, it’s in the
blood. However, in saying this fact about myself, I dare not take
anything away from being a Filipino and the heritage that comes from
being born of brown skin.
Traveling for quite some time now, I’ve
developed a rough theory that given the right guidance and tools,
Filipinos can be prepped for nothing less than world domination.
Naturally, the main base would be sunny California, which
coincidentally approximates the size of our homeland, and in my
opinion is rapidly accumulating the same population. Of course I am
being horribly biased, perhaps there are more Filipinos in Ohio or
London or I don’t know, by chance even more in Dubai (it certainly
looked like a positive contender from the film) but, the plane only
took me as far as my wallet could reach, merely following the
limited trail of my migrant relatives along the exciting forefront
of North America.
My thing is this: From landmark to landmark, LA
to New York, numerous odd tales of my fellow countrymen have
continuously flabbergasted me. These always make for a good party
laugh, but it makes me question, has it truly become awful to be
Filipino? In the recent lustrum, more and more Pinoys have made
efforts to leave the country for a colossal bunch of varying
reasons. But all the justification points out to the bottom line
that, they just had to go. It’s a strange and saddening thought
that not all the sumptuous pots of sizzling sisig, trays of crunchy
chicharon, cheap buys and certainly not even familial ties can make
a Filipino stay. I suppose, put that up against earning luntian
money, the typical OFW computes that in a few years’ time, he can
probably have a whole house literally made of chicharon. Yummy.
However, it’s one thing to work your butt off
while day-and-night-dreaming of coming home and another to publicly
revoke being a product of the beautiful Pearl of the Orient. Case in
point: My uncle “Tito Resty,” relates an entertaining account of
visiting the States. Before coming to Toronto to meet us, his port
of entry was San Francisco (another promising sub-hub). He lined up
for the usual interview with the immigration and chose a
Filipino-looking female officer. The inquiry started this way:
Officer: Are you Filipino?
Tito Resty: Yes. (pause) Are you too Ma’am?
Officer: FORMERLY.
I’m 100 percent she’s being technical. No
doubt, she must already hold a blue passport. The lady is after all,
an immigration officer. I don’t know, maybe you can’t ask such
things to these people. Perhaps that kind of query is under the
classification “Trick Questions.” Other factors come to mind
such as, they are likely to be under some surveillance and since it
is a job and just like any other job that has a specific protocol,
I’m certain they have a directive for this type of occurrence. But
why oh why didn’t she just switch to her native tongue and
replied, “Oo,” so she could’ve seemed less pompous? Benefit of
the doubt, it’s conceivable that another rule pronounces they
cannot speak any other language. Still, within me it takes
substantial effort to shake away the indignation and I keep on
thinking what I would have said if I were the one who encountered
her. She just sounded a little mean. To our country that is.
However, no court of law would punish her for being laconic because
ultimately, she was succinctly factual. In the end she had the
freedom of choice and what she chose was a different flag.
Then again, maybe, action speaks louder than
words. Some people can be irritating when they loudly brag about
having foreign citizenship but I tell you now, others can be silent
and even more annoying. This short comical story was told by a
friend of mine who lives in Las Vegas. On one of our conversations
she mentioned her extreme dislike for a Filipina who works in the
same building where her office is. Because here abroad, Filipinos
not liking other Flips is a fairly common thing that I had learned,
I immediately chastised my friend because I had assumed she probably
had no particular reason for her aversion. I was wrong. It turned
out she had a very precise basis for her judgement. She laughingly
tells me, “She just rubs me the wrong way because every time I see
her in the lobby waiting for friends, she’s standing around,
looking nonchalant and I kid you not, literally FANS herself with
her American passport! Every single time I see her!” Well. I
don’t know about you but after hearing that, my verdict is just
cause. It’s funny, but I would be lying if I said that I
wouldn’t be irked by the fanning lady. I mean, I know it must be
hot in Nevada but the temperature in Manila can be much more
unforgiving and I’ve never seen any Filipinos there using their
Philippine passports as “paypay.” And if I ever see one in the
Philippines, it’s still going to be weird. A passport is an
extremely valuable document and to be slapdash as to carry it around
as an air-puffer, is just, (shaking head) not very intelligent. And
NO, she does not process passports for a living. In this instance,
it is a little too generous to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Sorry, but in my eyes (and my friends’), she is guilty, guilty of
ridiculously flaunting her very proof of non-Filipino citizenship.
She had committed colonial mentality of the appallingly highest
degree and though there is a part of me that wishes we can in some
way apprehend her, her living with the many memories of cooling
herself with her provisional “fan,” looking just ghastly, is
enough retribution. Plus of course, this written account.
I’m pretty positive majority will agree with
me when I say that Filipinos can almost always tell their own kind.
I wonder if it’s the same with other ethnicities but I’ve always
found that curious about us, because in my opinion, it’s not easy
to sweep onto one generalized definition how Filipinos look. Some
have darker skin, others fair, some look more oriental… but at
glance we immediately know, it’s like sixth sense if you will. In
the current and even in the past seasons of American Idol there were
a few Filipinos who’ve been honourably chosen to participate. Had
they won, they would have been, ironically, the next American Idol.
That is without question a wonderful thing, but could we still claim
them to be our own? I guess partly, because they are categorized as
“Filipino-American.” In a grey sense, their victory would still
be ours but it cannot be on the same level as the triumphs of
let’s say, Manny Pacquiao. Mr. Pacquiao IS Filipino, period.
If any of you ever followed the superbly
entertaining now-defunct Chappelle’s Show, there was a totally
hilarious episode where they staged a “Racial Draft.” In it,
they nominated real characters up for picks. The segment began
something like, “Over the years Pro Golfer Tiger Woods has faced a
lot of criticism over his mixed Asian and Black heritage, but now,
after the racial draft, he is officially 100 percent black and
loving it.” As the title suggests, it is a semi-dark satire of an
ESPN draft and in it, each race had to strongly claim its own among
a list of mixed-race personalities. There were a lot of squabbling
and haggling for, to name a few: OJ Simpson, Colin Powell (whom both
White and Black people wanted badly), Michael Jackson (practically
given away), Condoleeza Rice (attached as clause) and the Wu Tang
Clan—a group of Black rappers who were quite happy to be drafted
by the Chinese. For the sake of speculation, if such a thing could
happen, how would the Filipino race fare? Sometimes I think that
colonial mentality can be so extreme that nobody would want to be
drafted as Pinoy. Suddenly, a picture of a people-less land springs
into my thoughts. It sure is depressing but it rings some truth.
A survey from the National Statistics Office
provides the information that as of September 2004, the number of
Overseas Foreign Workers has reached a high of 1.6 million. There
was a significant increase of 8.2 percent from the previous year’s
stat. That figure today in 2008, cannot possibly have dwindled and
certainly cannot account for ALL Filipinos outside of our country.
But maybe and this is just my conservative guess, multiply that
total by 3, you might get a better idea.
In a broader sense, leaving the Philippines
shows how a Filipino can overcome. It is no tiny sacrifice to leave
one’s family behind and try not to be swallowed by the culture of
a foreign land. It is a complicated tangle of intersecting reasons
and values and at the end of the day we will all be back from where
we started. As life gets harder in our country, more and more people
will seek greener pastures outside our borders. It just makes gloomy
sense. However, it is my fervent hope that, wherever we are in the
world, we must never ever forget where we come from and must own up
to our birthright. Oddly enough, I find that I have a better grasp
of Filipino having spent so much time away because Filipinos
speaking Tagalog outside of the Philippines is almost like a code.
When you want to say something that might be offending or delicate
to other races, you switch your tongue.
Truthfully, I am probably not one of the better
examples of NOT having colonial mentality. It’s an age-old disease
every Pinoy has acquired at birth. I’m convinced there is a place
where you can reconcile both however—the mentality and the
identity, if you just stay true to yourself. Literally, that place
is in your home. You can be garbed from head to toe in all the
popular western brands but when you take it all off and go to the
bathroom, you would still be in need of your “tabo.”
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