Fitting In

I always find it a compliment when my husband's family, essentially my only family around here, think of me as one of them. My step-father-in-law once told me that, apart from the color of my skin, I seem to be as Hotdish as everybody else. I fit in. I eat what they eat, although not with much excitement as everyone else in the family when served with ham and potatoes at Easter (I mean, where's the lechon?). I am modern, much more tech savvy than most of the adults, more up-to-date. I wear make-up, high heels, hooker boots. They might have thought then that when Soccer Tatay met someone from a third world country, that third world country girl would be one who couldn't drive, couldn't understand the language, nor will be understood. Like a lass from a barrio -- a really really far-flung barrio. But I turned out to be as first world as, well, third world country folks who grew up on McDonalds, MTV, the mall, CNN, Ally McBeal and Friends. So I eat potatoes instead of rice, eat hotdogs and hamburger for lunch, not for merienda. Last night I had a tilapia fillet sandwich, with horseradish sauce and ketchup, instead of a whole tilapia with head, fried crunchy, with toyo and Datu Puti as sawsawan, with hot hot rice.

But my fitting in has bugged me since I read mamazilla's post on filipinamoms about what she does to teach her kids their Filipino heritage. I would never have thought of making a flip book of native costumes and such. Never would have thought about asking my mother to send miniature kalesas and jeepneys so my kids know what they are. Sad thing is, when I volunteered with the UNESCO in Seoul many years back teaching Korean kids Filipino culture, I would wear a kimona and saya to class. I even had a malong I would demonstrate how to wear to Korean high school students. I researched hours on end about our history, our native legends and stories, took a long subway ride to the only Filipino store in the city to get balut...

No more. My kids eat rice when it's served, which isn't a lot. They would try chorizo, when I have them, which is on New Year's day. Our "comfort food" at home is Korean kalbi and bulgogi with lots of side dishes, not adobo. Not sinigang. Not tinolang manok.

So, do I start making more Filipino food, making Spam and rice for breakfast? Should I speak more Bisaya at home? Should I get Filipino books online? Should I teach them how to count in Tagalog, at least? Do I really have to work that hard to teach them their other cultural half? Can I just use curse words and talk to their lola in Bisaya, cook Filipino dishes when I want to, go to Filipino cultural shows when I want to? Can I just fit in, lose more of this darn accent day by day, live like every other family in the block?

Would my kids care when they're old enough? Does it matter?

The Power of Superpower

When my 4-year old declared that he is not sleeping in his bedroom because there's a "something" (later on identified as aliens) coming in from his window to his bedroom, I suggested that I go to Supertarget and get him superpowers. He nodded his head.

So off I went to work, and he and sister went to daycare. That night, I reminded him again that, like any other big boy, he needs to stay in his bedroom. He looked at me tearfully and exclaimed, "But you forgot to buy superpowers!!"

Well, yes, I did forget. In my defense, I didn't think he'd take me up on it in the first place! There are no real superpowers, all preschoolers know that! I guess he missed the memo so I promised him that I was definitely going to get one or two.

But what appropriate pretend superpower talisman should an educated mother get for a preschooler? Spiderman stickers (too commercialized)? Catholic crosses (hello the exorcist?)? a bible on his window (felt it was too tacky)? Now I was stumped. Dad's no help either ("How about a spiderman/batman/ironman/superman poster?"). Good thing I had to go to a gift shop to find a present for a niece's confirmation. I found these...


Little metal things with stamps of angels on them. These will work.

I headed home, told Dad that I finally got them and he should perform some kind of a rite establishing the superpowers on the ledge of his window. So before bed that night, father and son put those superpowers on the windows so aliens can't get in. We went to bed with high hopes of a good night sleep, no little boy staring at me in the middle of the night, long and deep slumber at last...

No such luck. The superpowers didn't work. Not yet, I guess. Today I asked him where those little things are. He said that he put them all together so it "has more power." I think he still believes in them -- just not enough to put his life on their hands when aliens come a-charging.

And ultimately, that's what superpowers really are for - just for that little bit of confidence that will make him stay in his bed until 2:26 in the morning -- not the kind that will prompt him to jump out of his second floor window to fight aliens.

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He has not been to our bedroom in a few nights. We've instituted a chart/sticker thing where he'd get a toy if he stayed in his bed for 30 days (and a sucker for every five stickers). Turned out, he's been sleeping in his sister's bedroom. He's been claiming that he stayed in his own bed and so he'd been getting a sticker. We've been had.

I Am Such a Cheat

I am republishing a post I wrote last year on a different blog. I know, I know, it's cheating, but here it is anyway.

My husband, who is Irish-German Lutheran, is taga-Davao. He is white outside but brown on the inside - like an inside-out coconut. That's why in his blog, http://www.samokdaddy.blogspot.com/, he is concerned about the seeming un-Filipino-ness of his - our - kids. I am not. And I am the Asian-Pacific Islander sociologist who vowed many years ago that my kids will speak Bisaya in America. Hah! The only consistent word that my 4 year old uses is tsinelas. He puts on one tsinela, then the other tsinela (try arguing with a 4 year old that you call those things tsinelas with an s, whether you have only one or both).


We don't eat a lot of Filipino food. I have a rice cooker, and about two pounds of rice in the pantry for when I'm really homesick.


We don't have a Filipino cable channel. I do read about what's going on back home. Inquirer.net and sunstar.com.ph are my windows to home.


We don't sing Filipino songs - heck, I don't know any Filipino kid songs. I sang Lupang Hinirang to Lkmbini on board Northwest when I got tired of singing Elmo's world and other kid songs. She loved it.


No Filipino games. I mean, sungka, anyone? I don't even know how to play. I have a sungka thing in the house, currently on display. It was given by my mother-in-law to me. She got it from an American missionary who served in Baguio years ago. Patintero? Maybe when they are older.


No Filipino friends around here. The Filipino community here is, like MLH (my loving husband) said, a little farther than I would like. I have not felt the need to connect with people of my ilk just yet so I don't pack up the brood to go to events. They do a lot of good things there but I don't really think teaching my kids the tinikling would make them more Filipino anyway.


I am not worried they'd lose their Filipino side. It's not a use-it-or-lose-it thing. I know that Lakandula and Lakambini are going to be culturally more white than Filipino, more German Lutheran than Filipino Fundamentalist Protestant. They will like applesauce better than suman. But right now, honey, it's not a big deal. So don't worry about it. Remember what we talked about before? The kids will go home to Davao every two years or so and there they can share with their relatives what it's really about. They can go on an 'exposure/immersion' in some urban poor group, go to the mountains to eat with the natives and the rural poor where they will eat with their hands; they will learn about Filipino driving practices, the bathrooms without hot water, lola's chicken in the backyard. They will do all those things and they will be all right because they are resilient. THAT is being Filipino. And that's what we are teaching them. Remember how they warmed up to lola right away? Remember how they loved the coconut trees, and the dogs, and the neighbor's chicken and cats? The taxis? They learned to adapt to a strange land quite quickly. That's the Filipino in them. And I'm proud.


Right now, let's have them enjoy a trip up north where they can run with their cousins, catch-and-release fish, stay in a northwoods cabin. Let them be Minnesotans.


And I can teach them more Bisaya words at least.

Loving/Hating Mom in a Skype World

My mother, who lives in a small town surrounded by banana plantations and rice paddies, and whose house is by a street still called Feeder Road 3 (a dirt road), has a laptop with a wifi connection. She can't figure out how everything works just yet so she's usually on the cellphone with her techsavvy nieces and nephews to ask them where the heck the "internet connection picture" is. We talk/see through Skype -- and this technology has helped her a lot in connecting with Lakandula and Lakambini, her grandkids, and me, of course. This is only the second week doing this so our conversation usually sounds like this:
(Lola is calling -- the computer is ringing)
Lakandula: I'll get it...where's the pointer, Mom? Is this it? Mom, is this it? Mom?
SoccerNanay: Yes.
Lakandula: This? Why can't I use the other one? What does this do? It's too loud!
SN: Answer the phone! Use that key -- the other one won't work.
L: How come it's too loud. What does this do?
SN: Answer the darn phone, Lakandula.
Lola: Hello? Can you see me now? Lakandula hillo? Can you see me?
SN: No, your video is not on.
Lola: Where the heck is the video picture here? Is it this square picture here? This one?
SN: I wouldn't know Ma, I can't see what you can see.
Lola: Why is my video not working? Maybe it's your computer....Let me try this. Is it working now? Can you see me now? Hello Lakandula!
SN: No Ma.
Lola: WHy is it not working? How about you do something there on your end to make my video appear. Maybe you're doing something wrong.
SN: Doesn't work that way Mom.
Lola: What do I do? I'm doing what I'm supposed to do. This is what Pedro the internet instructor at the internet cafe said.
SN: I don't know Mom, I can't see what you can see --- and it's not my fault (at this point I accidentally roll my eyes, forgetting that she can see me)...
Lola: What are you doing? WHy are you doing that?
SN: Nothing....
Lola: WHat nothing? Why are you doing that with your eyes. I am just asking a question!!!
SN: Mom, I'm just getting exasperated because I can't help you. Samok uy (You're such a pain)!

Lola hangs up the phone.

She calls again the next day and it the same thing all over again. Maybe 6 more months of this and she can finally figure out how to use her video, and I can finally learn to roll my eyes mentally.



A

Thought I should join the 21st century...

and join the millions of others who have a blog! I thought, you know, the whole world should know what I think, because, you know, like, uhhh, I have something important to, like, you know, say...

Here's to the one of the newest blogger in town!