My parents moved from the Philippines to America from 1989-1992, so I was born and raised right here in America. While they tried to hold onto their culture and raise us following Filipino traditions, it was hard to stop my sister and me from absorbing the Western lifestyle. So, in an attempt to reconnect to their heritage and their past, my parents used to take us to the Philippines almost every other year. But for me, visiting the Philippines was no vacation. It was a first-hand experience of how my parents lived and how much of my family still lives. It was a reminder that my life could have looked differently from how it does today as I write this blog entry. Here I am, sipping my usual Starbucks order, writing this on my iPad Air, and sitting in an air-conditioned store filled with busy people chatting away endlessly. But, when I visit the Philippines, I could easily be doing the same thing. You see, half of my family in the Philippines is quite well off. So, I don’t ever want to give you the impression that my parents escaped the blanket of poverty that covers a majority of the Philippines. Instead, they chose to move to America, struggle through immigration for years, and ultimately make a life for themselves and their children.
Disclaimer: This is just a personal account and my own opinion of my visits to the Philippines, therefore they are subjective to my own experiences, which I understand are not universal. My goal is not to bash, insult, or demean the Philippines. It is a great country, but has its shortcomings like any other country. Instead, here I attempt to connect my Western upbringing, with some Filipino cultural understanding and heritage, to the actual experience of being in the Philippines. Also, for all the times I’ve been to the Philippines I can’t seem to find a single picture of me there.
The first time I visited the Philippines, I remember thinking the entire country would be in black and white, since all of the pictures framed on our walls were in blank and white. I’d stick out like a sore thumb, I thought with a firm belief that that’s how colors and photography worked. Instead, we landed in a country that is naturally more colorful than America due to its tropical landscape. I was still a small child, so my first couple of trips were spent being shuffled around from house to house and city to city on sometimes poorly paved roads and through what seemed like miles and miles of traffic. But, as I grew older, I started picking up things that a child doesn’t recognize at first glance. For example, when I was extremely young, the thought of having maids cook and clean for you was a dream, but as I grew older I became more timid and reluctant to have someone fix my bed, hand wash my clothes, and wake up early to cook for me. The disparity between upper and lower class is a good indicator of how developed a nation is. For instance, on one busy street corner in a large city in the Philippines, like Cebu, you will see homeless street children fighting for food and money as well as posh, fashionable girls walking around with maids holding their shopping bags as they chat on their phones. And while we certainly have a problem with the distribution of money here in the America, it isn’t nearly as apparent as it is in the Philippines.
But, the Philippines has a tragic history of power struggle and they could be hardly blamed for that. Arguably one of the most influential time periods of the Philippines was during the Spanish Colonial Era, which lasted 356 years. The capital, name of the country, major religion, and creation of a privileged class all happened during Spanish rule. Because the Spanish found the Philippines to be highly profitable in resources, they essentially ruled the entire country treating the Filipinos as nothing but slaves to be worked. The Philippines was subsequently occupied by both Japan and the USA afterwards during the war, and wasn’t officially recognized as independent from America till the 1940’s.
So, as we can see, the narrative of the Philippines is both tragic and triumphant, which lends itself to a social culture that is progressive and traditionally conservative at the same time. The difference between some Western nations, like America, and countries like the Philippines is the Philippines’ ability to balance national pride and individual humility. It is certainly evident when visiting the Philippines and even when talking to Filipinos now living in America, that they see and appreciate their country’s unique qualities that make the nation so special. But, I did not grow up in that environment. I was taught and raised with some Filipino culture, but I’m obviously a foreigner when I’m in the Philippines because of both how I speak and how I look. I can’t overlook the poverty strewn about, and I don’t feel comfortable walking around certain parts of the Philippines. I don’t have homeless children pulling at my clothes begging for money on a daily basis . People don’t start cleaning my car’s windows at every stop sign hoping to be given a tip. I can’t comfortably walk by a crippled homeless man while I’m carrying shopping bags to my car. I wasn’t raised in an environment that constantly reminded me about both my own privileges and the governing injustices that force people into these terrible situations. And I get it, not everywhere in America is a glistening example of a perfect society and perhaps we just expertly sweep all of our issues under the rug, but you can’t deny that just by being American we have privileges many people in the world will never be granted.
Economically, the Philippines isn’t even doing too badly relative to the rest of the world. I don’t want to paint you a picture that it is this land of poverty, because it is definitely not. It is a beautiful south-eastern Asian country with the most tropical diversity I’ve seen in Asian. It’s made up of over 7,000 islands and has a population of about 100 million people. The geographical make up of the Philippines, an archipelago of so many islands, helps create a plethora of unique cultures within the different groups of islands. So, as you travel through the Philippines you’ll feel the sense of individuality the people have, as well as the deep pride and cohesiveness they hold for being Filipino. It’d be similar to the state-pride we have in America, if we had to fight against multiple occupations just to reclaim our land. That’s why my perspective of the Philippines is a mixed one. I can see the struggle in the faces of my parents here in America, in my relatives back in the Philippines, and in the people who work on the streets and are homeless, but I cannot understand it. I will never understand it because of the random chance that the universe didn’t manifest me in a time of struggle. Instead, my family lineage is a long and confusing one of great-grandparents who were forced to move to the Philippines during the war and then my own parents moving to America just so that I would never have to understand struggle. It makes me appreciative to my motherland, but also rather irked when I visit because it is 2015 and many people are still experiencing the struggle.
And so I’m thankful for my privileges for they have given me the perspective to recognize atrocities pertaining to human rights, but also the ability to see the innate and universal sense of human nature: humility, compassion, and value. Though I grew up in America, I still hold a certain pride for the Philippines because each time I visit I’m reminded that certain things in life are only experienced when you live frugally, but I suppose that’s something you’d have to learn for yourself when you visit.
Cheers!
gogomaddie 