Confessions of a Jetlag Addict (Part 2)

And so I'm back.

Everything's pretty much the same except that now it's a lot hotter than I remember. Oh, and the flowers are all out so my nasal passages are killing me. Otherwise, it's pretty much the same.

Turns out, I still have a way to go till my stuff for school starts, so I have all this time to play wifey. Chaddy's not here yet - hopefully he'll be here first week of August - so I have time to make this place look a little homey :-).

There were tons of stuff that I wanted to do while in the Philippines but wasn't able to do. Man. What with arranging the wedding, getting married, fixing my Visa, and then fixing Chad's Visa - we hardly had any time to do anything else!

So here's a list of the stuff I was meaning to do but didn't get to do (it's the thought that counts!):

1. Eat more isaw.
2. See more of my students and have actual conversations with them.
3. Go to Baguio.
4. Hang out with friends (you know who you are...yung iba kasi kebs na talaga e...)
5. Hang out with my brother more.
6. Go to Embassy (canyoubelieveit? I have never been there. I just want to go there and see which artistas will get into a catfight.)
7. Hug more of Sushi.

Ah, well. At least that means I really need to go back to the Philippines soon.

Two Days To Go...

...till my wedding. I'm looking at the sky and it's heavy with impending rain. I hope it doesn't rain on Saturday! We still haven't finalized all the souvenirs and there are so many loose ends to think about and I'm this close to hyperventilating!!!

I absolutely detest planning parties. I love attending them and contributing stuff in potlucks (I love potlucks) but I hate being the one in charge in a party. I keep worrying about everyone - if they're having fun or eating enough or getting happily tipsy or not dancing or whatever.

Gah!

But I am so excited to be married to Chaddy. I hate weddings. Well, no, not really. I just hate planning mine. I can't wait to get to the being married part. Oi.

More to come post-wedding...

I'm Baaaack!

Ika nga ng Menudo, "I'm going back to the Philippines!!!"

Yes, yes, I'm back! :-D

That means though that I don't have ready Internet access, so my entries might be sparse while I'm here. Also, I expect to go on overdrive as I work on the final sale of our house (yes, the one that was ransacked) and the wedding!

So that's all for now. I'm at Katipunan, and rather than typing in this ol' cafe, I'd much rather walk around and drink it all in again. I'm write more when I'm in a better frame of mind.

(I'm using my same Globe number so gimme a call/text!)

From Sunshine to Snow

I'm back!

I went to LA for the (self-imposed long) weekend. Needless to say, I had an enormous blast. For a while there, I actually remembered what it felt like to have a life outside of the house. I remembered how we used to go out all the time - with measly budgets to boot. And, by gollywow, I realized that I can still - more or less - dance!

LA is alive. It's buzzing with life in all shapes, sizes, colors, and languages. It was such a sudden change from all the Dutch blondes and blue eyes of Grand Rapids. We went to Target first thing after landing and I heard all sorts of languages whizzing by me.

And the sun! Ah, the sun! The SUN!!! I cannot tell you how much I loved the sun. THE SUN!!! If only for that, I would've stayed forever.

But. I realized I'm too Country Mouse now for LA. Haha, but my brief foray into the world of glitz and glamor was fun.

More than anything else, though, I was most happy to see my girlfriends. I've been friends with the same set of gorgeous girls for 14 years now (gasp!). We've been through everything together. You know those movies they make about women and friendship? We practically own, produce, and are the posters for that. And I'm not even bragging as much as I'm being truthful.

Here at home, I am daughter-slash-Ate-slash-wife-to-be. With my friends, I felt free for a while. Not that being daughter-slash-Ate-slash-wife-to-be is bad. I happen to love that role. But for a long while, I was a girl again, with friends who know me literally inside out and I felt like an attractive person again. Haha :-D.

Shopping, dancing, eating - but the best of all was during day 2 of my bachelorette bash. We were having a Slumber Party (cute namin, diba?) and I started crying, just letting out all my frustrations and fears and basic happiness with everything going on in my life. I haven't been able to do that since coming here. We three were in bed huddled in blankets and they just hugged me and let me cry. These girls have seen me go through everything and I've done the same for them and it was so rich to be in that moment when it was about everything in the past, present, and future and we'd know we'd still be there for each other.

I feel so fantastically blessed. I have all these beautiful people loving me. And I love them. And we will all live happily ever after - and just in case we don't, we'll still be here.

Joepi, Joyce, LP, Joanne, Joy, Jean, Eedee, Jana, and my darling Sara, I love you all so much!

Reluctantly Falling In Love

Today was so beautiful, I actually went out for a walk - a long walk as it turned out because I got a little lost. Instead of turning left on the street my mom told me to, I turned at the next corner to prolong my walk, thinking I'd get to the street I was aiming for, hoping against hope that our neighborhood was but a grid. Well, it was a little more complicated than that, and for a while I got a little scared because I came upon a very, very, very small forest-y plot of land (Faithful Blog Followers, I was actually humming My Favorite Things yet again - a sure sign of fear). I eventually ended up back home by having my wits about me. (I actually remembered where the sun was supposed to be hitting my face! Lewis and Clark eat your hearts out!)

Since my walk took far longer than I expected, I saw so much more than I had hoped. There were sooooo many squirrels. It made me worry a bit because I thought I'd run into a skunk again, but the worst thing that happened was I sloshed into a puddle - for sure it was a mound of snow a few days ago. I saw these beautiful red-breasted birds, and they were quite huge. One even hopped along and kept pace with me for a while (which isn't really to say much for the bird because I was just walking-walking not exercise walking...) ala that bird that led the Pevensie children deeper into Narnia.

But the most wonderful of all was that everything was green, green, green. So green in fact that if I said green a thousand times, it wouldn't be enough. And to think we're just at the cusp of Spring! (I'm not having an asthma attack, so for sure the pollen isn't there yet.) It was quiet and from deep inside the houses I passed I heard small children and little doggies. I came across quite a few joggers and a nanny with all her small wards in tow. Everyone said hello. Even the cars that passed by waved - because they did the proper thing and slowed down when they were approaching a pedestrian. My gosh. We were like an opening number for some Rogers and Hammerstein musical!

So I must say, methinks I am falling in love with our neighborhood. It's silly because I really don't want to fall in love with Grand Rapids. My fuzzy logic tells me that by loving GR, I'd love Manila less, and I am a true-blue Katipunera, man. Nothing beats walking down Katipunan, half-fearing for your life. But that was home, you know? For crying out loud, I even knew some of the tricycle drivers by face and we'd smile at each other. The guards at the banks and eateries? Smile. Even those takatak or bananacue boys outside of KFC? Smile. Well, maybe a little simangot from time to time, because they can get pretty pushy.

I'll hold on to that logic for a little while more. Because once Spring unleashes it's full beauty, Katipunan just might have a little run for its money.

Kemohndawwwn!!!

I remember watching Chris Rock on TV saying that only old people and teenagers high on pot watch The Price Is Right. I'm paraphrasing from memory, of course, but the gist is he said you'd have to be in that frame of mind to actually appreciate Bob Barker and his antics.

I take offense to that statement because I like watching The Price Is Right. Well, I don't hold Chris Rock in high esteem anyway - his jokes rely to much on the painful and sometimes inappropriate humor behind racism. Yes, yes, I know he does it to laugh at himself and his race - but I don't think he - anyone - is really in the position to laugh at his race. By all means, let him laugh at himself, but not at his race. Besides, his humor is too duh-duh-duh-dumb for me.

But I digress. This isn't about Chris Rock.

I was watching The Price Is Right with Papa this morning. That Bob Barker sure has spread a lot of good cheer. I remember there being an issue between him and one of those girls presenting the prizes regarding some form of sexual harassment years ago - but that didn't seem to affect his popularity. Rod Roddy, the original announcer, died in October 2003 and has since been replaced by Rich Fields. But Bob Barker is still there, giving a mild heart attack to many a willing victim - although he will be retiring in June. ("I will be 83 years old on December 12, and I've decided to retire while I'm still young," kidded Barker.)

Almost everyone won today. Some furniture, a trip to Vienna, a Mustang convertible (drool). It was difficult to change the channel once we started because we just had to see who else would win. I found myself cheering for some of the contestants and getting madly disappointed if there was a wrong guess. (They didn't get to play Plinko today, drat). And I found myself being just as excited when a cute girl with curls won that Mustang convertible (drool).

Which brings me to this: Humanity can't be all that bad if we can still be genuinely happy for some stranger's good fortune. And that's why I watch The Price Is Right. I'm not geriatric and I'm not a pothead. I just like being happy for other people being happy. :-)

Peace, Adult World

Hello, Adult World! I come in peace. :-)

Today, I opened my very first bank account here in the US - my first checking account ever. I know, I know. I'm 26 and this should've happened sooner. I got my first credit card ever just a month ago and it's not even really mine. I mean, it's under my name, but it's really just an extension of my Mom's card. But this checking account thing is all mine.

You see, I'm afraid of money. I love money, but I'm afraid of it. So much so that when it's with me, I tend to get rid of it - and get pretty little things in its place. Having this power scares me. It's a good thing I hardly ever go out as it is, but I really am scared I'll buy the entire TV shopping network and let them all toothy salespeople have early retirements.

During my last months in the Philippines, I didn't even have a bank account of my own. I like keeping things liquid because I'm quirky that way. And I'm a complete mathematical disappointment. I really can't make heads nor tails of any of those balancing thingamajiggies. My having remembered how much something costs is actually a great victory.

But, here I am. I am ready to face the Adult World and all of its Adult-ish requirements. I mean, I am getting married in 3 months (gasp! 3 months!!!) and in the list of Adult-ish requirements, I'm pretty sure that's near the top.

God. A credit card and a check book. Lord have mercy.

Just remember, Adult World, I come in peace.

The View From The Back Of The Room

Last week, I attended a seminar that was given by the local Institute for Healing Racism. My mom thought that it would be a good idea for me to go to sort of prepare me for being part of the über minor minority in school (Asians - and to make it even more minor: Filipino). GVSU is not necessarily known for its diversity - and neither is Grand Rapids if you really think about it. So off I went to the seminar without really knowing what to expect.

There were 11 participants. Most of them were Dutch (of course, this being Grand Rapids), some were part-Irish, one was half Argentinean half Swiss, one African-American lady, and me.

The first day we were made to watch all sorts of videos that showed different forms of racism as propagated by society, mass media being its staunchest ally back in the day. This being America, the focal point was the blatant racism against the African Americans pre-1960's. But lots of acts of racism against Hispanics/Latinos and Asians were also shown.

There were the prerequisite images of the lynchings, Martin Luther King, Jr., Rosa Parks, etc. There were other images that were a little more disturbing - the "Black Sambo," the bumbling African buffoon of a slave who seemed to enjoy being a slave, the Mamie (ala Gone With the Wind and Aunt Jemima, the pancake syrup), young black babies who would get eaten by crocodiles - and they were all in cartoon.

Nowadays, blatant racism is illegal. There are laws that protect minorities. What is alarming are the inadvertent, discreet, and legal forms of racism. A look. An eyebrow. Lowered voices. And worst of all: the condescending smile.

Early on in the seminar, I realized how much racism I was going through just by going out of our house. I came into the seminar thinking of how to arm myself against racism against me, but, I realized that I was a racist in the way that my anger towards the ubiquitous "THEM" hinders me from realizing that most of the racism I've felt was borne out of ignorance, not hate. Does this make it any better though? No. In fact, in a large way, it makes it even more annoying. Better to slap an adult who is being every bit of the a**hole, but you would never slap a wayward child who doesn't know any better. It really is infuriating. But, true to IPP teachings (Ignatian Pedagogical Paradigm), the context really does makes all the difference.

Towards the end of the first day, we were made to do an activity. We were all made to line up against the back of the room facing the front. The facilitator read from a list that he had. If what he read was true for us, we could get to step forward. If it wasn't, we had to stay behind. He read a long list and I don't want to put it all here but you can access the article here. I will give you some examples though. Here are some of the things he read:

1. I can, if I wish, arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.
2. If I should need to move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing housing in an area which I can afford and in which I would want to live.
3. I can be pretty sure that my neighbors in such a location will be neutral or pleasant to me.
4. I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their race.
5. If a traffic cop pulls me over or if the IRS audits my tax return, I can be sure I haven't been singled out because of my race.

...and on and on and on. Every single white participant was able to take a step forward at each item. I was only able to take a few. The Argentinean-Swiss lady was able to take just one step over me. The black participants? They did not move.

It was numbing for me to be in that kind of situation, to say the very least. I was angry and frustrated and humiliated. The funny thing was, the white people felt the same way - for circumstances that were the exact opposite of mine.

They didn't realize how much they took for granted, in terms of the privileges that they were not supposed to have just because of being white, and how by their mere complacency they become complicit.

I, however, had a two-pronged sword thrust into me. On the one hand, I felt righteous indignation over the fact that my being Asian has kept me at the back of the room. I grew up privileged myself - I've never had to be afraid of any of those circumstances growing up. I come from a good family, went to a good church, was popular in high school and college, went to great schools, got good grades, had a noteworthy job, and a bag of chips! I absolutely hated the fact that I had to be in that situation just because I was in a different country. In a perfect world, location should not mean a change in circumstance. Unfortunately, it does. And it is most true here in the States.

My sigh of relief is that I do not intend to become an American citizen. I do not intend to make my everlasting home here. Chad and I fully intend to raise our children in the Philippines. My being here is a step in a plan that ultimately involves living in the Philippines happily ever after.

And there's the rub (and the second prong). I realized that had that activity been held in the Philippines, I could have easily been on the other side of the room. It wouldn't have been about race though. It would have been about the kind of education I received, my accomplishments, my money, my affiliations. I have also taken all the privileges my "class" has bestowed upon me in the Philippines for granted. And so when I return, I have to be mindful of that as well. I will teach. I will learn. I will help. I will give. I will speak. I will vote. And a bag of chips.

What separated the white participants from me and the other minorities was not something we did. We were separated just because of how we look. All we need to do to close that gap is to merely take a step towards the middle. It's a cliché because it speaks of the Truth: One step is really all it takes.

I encourage everyone, in whatever circumstance you may be, to take a step back and look at the room from the back. The view really is quite different and you never know what you'll learn.

And then immediately take steps towards the center.

***

White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack by Peggy McIntosh:
http://www.case.edu/president/aaction/UnpackingTheKnapsack.pdf

No Bouquet Toss

I will have none of it, y'hear? No garter thingy either. No doves, no money dance (tacky...but lest you think otherwise...we do need the money! :-D), no ceremony! I won't even be wearing high heels!

Because of what Papa does, people think that my wedding will be a concert of sorts. Yeah, that would be fun and grand, getting all of the choirs (and batches, I might add!) together to sing me into wedded bliss. I must admit, that vision is very tempting. But this arranging a wedding thing has really brought everything into perspective.

We won't be having the traditional wedding ceremony. We will only have the priest, our family, and our sponsors present, and no one else. We will make our vows in front of God and the people we will be most accountable to as Man and Wife.

We will have a small reception. We've limited the guest list to those who are the closest of the close. We hope against hope that the others who do not get invited do not take it the wrong way...but then if they do, at least we will know that they might not have been good friends after all. But do know that aside from trying to make a statement, we're also very poor! So it isn't personal, really. Besides, it's not about you. It's about us! :p

We will not have any of the traditional "games." I don't believe in the bouquet toss. It presupposes that all single women should get married. I have dear friends who are perfectly happy single and I delight in their strength, grace, and beauty and will not mar that by shoving my marriage down their throats. My happiness took this shape and form. My friends' happiness might take another. Who am I to say that they should also be married to be happy?

While the wedding will be a once-in-a-lifetime event, my marriage will be forever. So I'd much rather focus on that.

Oh, yeah. I'm jealous of other couples who have everything perfectly. Let there be no doubt: I am green with envy. And yes, this is, in a way, a way to stroke my own back and tell myself that it's ok. But you know what? It is ok! I'll be jealous for a quick minute, but I look at my fiance and what he had to go through to get to this point; and then I look at myself and what I had to go through to get to this point...really, one could only be so lucky.

One of my best friends in the world had this to say when he found out about the wedding plans: "It's so you." Funny thing is, my dad said the exact same words. That was the best thing that has ever been said about our wedding plans - coming from the people whose opinions matter to me, no less! :-)

So stop the pooh-poohing for whatever reason: because you're not invited, because I won't be having it in an "it" church, because I didn't have a romantic-enough proposal, because I'm not wearing an engagement ring...or whatever. Screw you. I'm happy. Are you? ;-)

Leche. But nice.

My mom makes fantastic leche flan. I mean, it's creamy and sweet and rich and makes you believe in your fervent wish that eggs do not contain bad cholesterol. She uses my Nana's recipe, and it's more or less a no-brainer in terms of putting it all together. (Hyuh-rayyt. Tss.)

Most of my close friends already know this, but the first time I made leche flan, I had my Mom taste it. She thought it was the best puto she had ever tasted. My brother made a similar attempt with (eerily enough) similar results.

A few hours ago, Mama cooked a few pans for a costume dinner party she was invited to (yes, costume dinner party...Since it's Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day here, they're all supposed to be dressed up as human rights activists. Yep. They do stuff like that around here...Tell me about it...Tss...) Providentially, my brother was here at that time.

Big. Deep. Breath. My brother and I decided to tackle that wretched leche-flan-making hurdle once again, but this time, we were going to do it together.

So I did the batter thing...making sure that it didn't get bubbly but remained creamy (hence the puto-effect daw before.) Paolo took care of caramelizing the brown sugar (we both got a little jumpy when the sugar went bubbly and popped, hehe...note for the future: it really does that, so don't scream like a girl...).

We were doing okay, the batter had about 2 bubbles in it and the caramel burned only in a teeny spot...we wrapped it (double wrapped it in fact!) so that the steam wouldn't get into the pan but merely surround it to cook it perfectly (another reason for the puto effect...)

Meanwhile, Mama left dressed as a Muslim activist in honor of our Muslim heritage (we're from Iligan).

(This is totally non-sequitur but I just had to say, she looked really funny in a malong in the middle of a snow storm.)

We waited the pre-requisite 1 hour. We took it out of the steamer. (It looked really professional, too...we have those huge steamer thingamajiggies that the chinese use...) We removed both foil wrappings.

It was too liquid-y.

Denial always comes first, doesn't it?

We said it wasn't undercooked...we just had to let it set. So we let it set. Then we both thought maybe it would be better if it set in the fridge, so that's what we did.

45 minutes later, we had the best tasting squishy pudding we had ever tasted.

As I see it, the foiled leche flan attempt (pun intended, you'll see how there's a pun in a bit...)

1. The double foil wrapper might have blanketed the pan too much. (See? The pun...) As a result, it might have needed to be inside the steamer a bit longer.

2. The pan was too big (it was a bit big...). It might've needed more cooking time.

3. Mama left, bringing with her the good leche flan joojoo.

4. The 3 Bears Theory (patent pending...): First 2 attempts must always be too (insert adjective) - Papa Bear - and too (insert opposite of previous adjective) - Mama Bear. Third attempt will always be just right.

But this trumps all of that...

For those of you who know the sub-reason for my being here, who know the back story...this afternoon was golden because I made syrupy, sipon-like, palpak leche flan with my brother.

With my brother.

We laughed and screamed and laughed at ourselves. It was fantastic. It was fantastic to be that way with him again. It was fantastic.

Can't wait for the 3rd attempt, the Baby Bear attempt. We're all gonna be just fine. :-)

Deal or No Deal - Without Kris Aquino!

I'm currently watching Deal or No Deal - the original one with Howie Mandel. Can I just say? It's soooooooooo much better than the one with Kris Aquino. It's just really funny because I read an article somewhere (Reader's Digest I think...) which said that Howie has major OCD and completely dislikes being hugged. Wrong job, buddy! Hehe. But he's a good sport - he just looks especially pained whenever the excited contestants hug him.

And then, it started to snow! After about a month of complete snow boycott, it's finally here. It's kinda weird because I know I've been complaining about the frigid weather - but actually, it's quite warm for winter. We've been having spring weather these past few days actually. And now the snow is here...which is a bit of a relief because now all is right in the world. Sort of.

All that because of watching Deal or No Deal without Kirs Aquino! Haha!