DON'T GIVE UP ON US

A friend of mine now lives in Paris with her British husband and their two children. No one gave her any grief or guilt about her decision to move away; in fact I suspect she's heard more people tell her how fortunate she is to be residing right smack dab in the center of the City of Lights. Her choice to leave was not a statement against the United States nor was it meant to demonstrate the superiority of France. She moved simply for personal reasons. And that was good enough.

Unfortunately for us Filipinos who now live outside the Philippines, it's never that simple a reason. No matter why we left, there's always that cloud of perception hanging over us that we abandoned our country in its time of need. It's rather confusing, you know, to be hailed by the government as heroes because of the dollar remittances we send back home -- and then practically denounced as traitors by many of our fellow Filipinos (sometimes even by the same government officials) for using our talents and skills for the benefit of another nation and not our own instead.

I do understand the complexity of the issues surrounding this apparent mass exodus; for instance, about how many (note: I did NOT say all or even most -- just many) of the "best and the brightest" are leaving the Philippines and thus exacerbating the so-called brain drain (or as one official referred to it recently, a brain hemorrhage) afflicting the country today. I know about the shortage of doctors and nurses back home, especially in the provinces where they are needed most, because they are finding work for much more pay here in the U.S. and elsewhere in the world. I've read the same thing about our teachers, architects and engineers, and even our artists and entertainers.

A recent report shed light on the scope of this phenomenon:

MANILA — More than a million Filipino workers – from domestic helpers to doctors through to engineers and pilots – joined the growing army of Filipinos employed overseas last year, according to official data.

The Philippine Overseas Employment Administration (POEA) says more than eight million Filipinos, about a tenth of the country’s population of 86 million, were working overseas last year.

I'm not going to defend our reasons for going off to distant shores in search of -- well, whatever it is we each were looking for when we left. There are many who have already written about this topic far more eloquently and intelligently than I ever could. Besides, our reasons are varied, complex and -- well -- personal. Although many leave to secure financial security for themselves and their families, there are those trying to find or challenge themselves by facing the unknown, while others seek to reinvent themselves where no one else remembers them as they were.

Instead, what I'd like to address are the barbs (whether explicitly stated or insinuated) being thrown at us of how we simply gave up because we chose to leave. When people give up, you can assume they've decided to choose the easy route rather than the hard, or maybe they've even stopped trying completely. Let me tell you, we who comprise the Filipino diaspora haven't remotely given up. There is nothing easy about starting over, especially in a place where practically everything and everyone is different from anything and anyone you've ever known.

There's nothing easy about being a stranger who thinks everything around you is strange. It's not easy leaving the people you love, the routines that bring you comfort, and especially the sights, sounds, tastes, and smells that are familiar and make you feel like you belong somewhere. It's difficult trying to fit in when you have little or no concept of how the others around you grew up, of where they're coming from and of what they're thinking. And if you have to learn a new language -- a new world view, in essence, because that's what a language signifies -- then it's especially and infinitely more challenging.

Only those who now live away from the only home they have ever known can understand that there is nothing about their new lives that can be interpreted as their having given up on anything. I have a friend who grew up in posh Ayala Alabang and graduated from an exclusive all-girls Catholic school in Makati who moved here a few years ago, worked four jobs at the same time and once lived out of her beat-up second-hand car just so she could send 40 percent of her income to her family back home. I still remember the days when $20 made all the difference in whether or not she could buy lunch for the week.

Her brother, in the meantime, worked as a janitor at a senior housing community during the day and delivered pizza at night and sent the bulk of his earnings to his wife (whose boyfriend he was also inadvertently supporting as a result) and their two children. Once he was so exhausted that he was found sleeping inside the stairwell of one of the buildings he was cleaning. Another friend's uncle still sleeps on a table because he chose not to buy a bed so he could send the money he would have used to pay for one to his family in the Philippines instead.

I could tell so many of these stories. Of how I know about parents in Los Angeles, struggling to start over, take multiple jobs to survive and now have no time for their own kids -- who also are fearful and lonely and oftentimes picked on by their new classmates because of their heavy accents and "strangeness" and thus join gangs to find protection and a sense of belonging. Of how these children are then somehow lost to them ironically while they were trying to find a new life for their family.

And even for those whose lives are not nearly as tragic, it still isn't easy. For instance, I've been here for most of my life now and still I'm acutely aware that I'm an immigrant, virtually an outsider despite all appearances to the contrary. Some days I realize I'm no longer thinking about the differences between myself and the people I work or play with -- but the point is that it's not quite that seamless yet, that this is still something I think about, although less frequently with each passing year. Back in the Philippines I didn't ever have to think about whether or not I belonged, it was a given. I didn't have to ponder over what it meant to be Filipino; I just was.

All these many years I've worked very hard to build my life here. I did well in school, won scholarships, became a student leader, fast-tracked my way through my first two careers, fell in love, got married, and together with my husband, bought and furnished a house. And yet, when I'm about to visit my family and friends in Manila, I still say how excited I am about going home. Then when it's time for me to head back here -- to the house, the husband, the job, and the cat -- I say the exact same thing.

Like all immigrants who have chosen to make this place their home, I know that no matter how outstanding or remarkable my contributions to this country are or will ever be, I could never become its president simply because that's how the Constitution was written (just ask Arnold: he knows this only too well). I think this fact alone illustrates what sets us apart from those who were born here, of what we will always be excluded from, and reminds us how this place can never be truly ours to conquer even if we get quite far.

I can't speak for everyone else who, like me, left the Philippines for their own reasons. But what I'm trying to say here is that leaving the known for the unknown is scary and requires at least some amount of courage. Those who have chosen to challenge the odds of survival in a place where every simple initial step involves effort, planning, calculated risk, and paralyzing fear should never be accused of having chosen the easy way out. Whatever reason they may have had for leaving, well, you can bet it must have been pretty important. And at the very least, not an easy one to make.

Many of the one million Filipinos who left last year to become part of the eight million who are now away from home have not completely left. As evidenced by the $14-21 billion (as estimated by the Asian Development Bank) that they send back to their families who stayed behind, you can surmise these people put their hard-earned money where their heart still belongs. We've also seen numerous accounts of people who found success in their new lives, and decided to invest in where they came from. There are those who even go back, hailed as heroes, even if they were no less when they left.

I think it's time that those who leave and those who stay stop undermining each other's reasons and start respecting each other's decisions. Instead of questioning the motives and actions of either side, there are deeper and more important questions to ask. Like, for example, why the present government relies so heavily on increasing what's coming from the outside rather than working on what's being produced and generated on the inside? A few years ago the Philippine president pleaded with Filipino-Americans in California to add "only" $20 more to what they were already sending back home monthly; recently her vice-president told us that we had to give more in order to save the Philippines. The message rang loud and clearly for all of us, and many of us felt deeply betrayed: stay where you are and you will do your country much more good.

I don't know about you, but I've never heard of nation-building being put on the shoulders of those who have already left it.

Comments

[mrPogi]

very well said gigi... i love reading your posts!

one thing i can tell you is no one can say to me that I gave up on them. just because every chance i get, i visit them, once, twice a year, maybe. I never take my annual vacation anywhere else but back home. I try to share with them anything i can...money, wisdom, knowledge...that's the least I can do to help them.

[BatJay, Ang Dating Folk Singer ng Ma Mon Luk]

hey kapitbahay. i know exactly how you feel. living here is strange - you feel like you belong but there is still the alienation.

and now being in the philippines is starting to feel strange as well. going home last december was hard for me. i was excited and turned-off at the same time. talk about ambivalence.

OFW blues - you're never going to feel really happy wherever you are in the world.

[John]

My country gave up on me!

Many moons ago, I was forced out of the Philippines. Not the dragged-me-to a-plane-and-set-me-off kind of thing similar in spirit. You see, there was no college in in the entire metropolis that can put up with my, uhm, youthful exuberance. Not one will set me straight. My parents had no choice but to matriculate me outside of the land that betrayed me. Where's the justice in that? For me?

My take on brain drain: It's a one-sided argument. What about the mass exodus of the country's "worst and lamest"? Wouldn't their exit balances the "best and brightest"? From my own impromtu study (I list the first 10 Filipinos that came to mind and that I personally know here in the U.S.), I gotta tell you, the old country is better off. 8 to 2, in favor of "worse and lamest". Okay, okay, maybe 7 to 3, but that one dresses pretty badly, so he's borderline.

And those sad lives you mentioned, I'm all of that. Except I didn't go to an all-girl school. I wish I had though. That would be so cool. But that's a story for another time.

Anyway, my point in all this (man, I thought I'll never get to this) is that when I finally get back there, I want some sort of an apology for giving up on me. From whom? I'm not that particular, but I'm hoping to at least get a hug from a pretty government official. Then again, that's just me.

[Anna]

I almost hesitate to reply to this post, because I can imagine how many would consider me to be a traitor for it. But what is, simply is with me. I am one of those who left and stayed for personal reasons; circumstance, really. But for better or worse I have never really felt at home in the Philippines. I always felt the odd duck out at school or home (I call myself the "black sheep" of the family) most of my life. And yet, paradoxically, I still call the Philippines "home" and always will, though like you Gigi, this is home too, and we both know that it doesn't feel strange to say that, it just IS.

Even back home I never (again, only through circumstance) had a Filipino boyfriend but once - and he was the only one who betrayed me, after an 8-year relationship, so as you can imagine it soured me on Pinoy men. Back in college in Vet Med I was resented by my classmates for speaking in English, which I was raised on as my first language, so when I realized how they felt I was shamed into speaking more Tagalog and deliberately distorting my English to sound more Filipino in order to fit in. (My accent never quite fully recovered from that.)

I have never found the US strange, just different. I never had any problem fitting in, or at least any more than I had in the Philippines or anywhere, and of course once I found and married my soul mate I really found myself "home". Which is where we make it, wherever that may be. And just like most of us, I send a portion of my income home to support my mother, but even that is only when I can afford to do so, and she is not totally dependent on it.

I guess I'm not your typical OFW. Whether that makes me a traitor in the eyes of my compatriots at either of my "homes" is a matter of opinion, which I frankly couldn't give a damn about anyway.

[Gigi]

mrPogi - Thanks for the nice compliment! And yes, like you, I use up all my vacation days to go home and visit my family and friends. It's so hard not having them nearby, 'no?

KB - Your last line really struck home. There are things we have "doon" that we wish we had here, just as there are things we enjoy over here that we wish could be found there. So what happens is that when we're at either place, we always find ourselves missing those things that are at the other place.

So ganoon nga ako. I can't wait to go home to see my family and friends -- and then when I get there, I'm happy to be with them but I find myself getting irritated with realities over there that make life so difficult. So then I can't wait naman to come back here, tapos pag nandito, parang napakalungkot uli. OFW blues indeed!

John - A pretty government official? Hmmmm....
(PS: Since you mentioned it, I do know some folks the Philippines was so lucky to have gotten rid of. Although when I encounter them here, I wish this place was even bigger than it already is so I wouldn't have to bump into them.)

Anna - It might be just me, but there was nothing that you said that would justify anyone calling you a "traitor" (but, again, that's just me :) ). I really believe that there are people who don't belong (or feel like they do) where they are -- the smart and brave ones go off and find the place that really feels like home to then, the place where they can thrive and grow. It's a personal thing...it shouldn't ever be described as a political statement (unless it really is).

If you think about it, even Jesus had to move away from home to do what he was meant to do. Can you even imagine if he never did?

[Anna]

Yikes, here I go again... yes, I can imagine.... the world might have had fewer wars...

[Cathy]

Love LOVE this piece Gigi. I guess I'm still young and immature, because I am still angry at us, at Filipinos and the government that we have chosen for ourselves, the government we can't escape.

I still feel guilt because I left the country, even after I promised I would never do it. But I did it because I wanted to be with the one I loved. My reason is very personal. I hate the fact that I m viewed as a milking cow back home. I hate the fact that we ourselves are depriving our country of economic growth by depending on OFW remittances.

[Jeg]

Great post. It's misguided 'patriotism' to call those who left traitors. My relatives who went to the US also went through alienation and multiple jobs to support their folks back home. What I can stand however are those who after having 'made it' have a condescending attitude towards those people they consider 'stupid' enough to stay in the motherland.

[bushido]

bravo, gigi!

[c]

The only time I feel conscious of my race, even uncomfortable with it, is when I'm around a group of Chinese or Filipinos. They put so much emphasis on language. Just because I didn't grow up in a household submerged in either language, somehow I'm deficient. Honestly, only Asian people have ever made me felt ashamed of being Asian.

[Gigi]

Anna - :) Although with human nature being what it is and all, I somehow suspect people would have found someone else to rally around, fight wars and commit unspeakable acts in his or her name.

Cathy - Why does being angry make you young and immature? I think the problem is that people aren't angry enough. Because they always seem to get distracted by something else instead of demanding change and action.

Jeg - I'm just as irritated when I hear expats/immigrants say that to the folks back home. It's condescending at the very least. And just because it didn't work out for them back home, it doesn't mean it won't work for everyone else, di ba?

Bushido - Thanks! :)

c - I know what you mean (because I've heard people say that to my friends). Language is a reflection of a people's culture and world view -- but just because you don't know how to speak it, well or at all, doesn't mean you're any less Asian than others. People who put so much emphasis on it and use it as a gauge of someone's authenticity are being exclusionary and like to think of themselves as superior. Don't let that get to you: it's only a sign of insecurity. Asian Americans have different faces, voices, and experiences -- which should all be embraced if we are to be truly proud of ourselves.

[rorschach]

It's not a scheme that can be sustained. When you trade people for dollars, the one who traded people out will eventually end up broken.

[bugsybee]

Hay naku, Gigi. I couldn't have put it better. This is exactly what I have been telling everybody (albeit not as articulately as you have done here) and why I have been telling my students to "go if you get the chance". This is how I put it - the ship is sinking and somebody has to go to the nearest shore to ask for help - or else, we all sink! This is what the OFWs have done for the Philippines. Some, like me, have opted to stay because we feel we could do more here, than there. Some have opted to leave for reasons for their own but that does not mean they are less Filipinos than those of us who have chosen to stay. As you said, let's respect each other's decision. And look how much the OFWs are sending back! We don't need a ton of brains to know that these remittances keep the economy going.

[Gej]

Hi Gigi,

Great post.

Agree totally that we should all respect each other's decisions on whether to stay or to move.

Sometimes nga, those who leave are unjustly judged as having turned their backs on their homeland. Thay they shine elsewhere just shows there is something back home that needs changing urgently. I'd rather place the blame on the failure of our leaders back home (sometimes that means us too) rather than those who leave and the many more who would if they only got the chance.

Still, I can't help but feel sadness that some 3,000 Pinoys leave the country everyday.

I still hope, and know that many of those who leave (and I know for sure you are included here) leave a place in their heart for some time in the future, when it is time for them, to somehow give back in their own unique, carefully considered way (not just dole-outs but real lasting efforts_ , to their homeland. And many have started to give back. The Philippines surely needs it.

As for those who have chosen (or had no choice but) to stay, I remember how the words of our school's President struck me hard "It's not enough to stay in the country. You have to make a difference".

[Gigi]

rorshach - I do wonder what the effects of this "people for dollars" scheme will be within, say, the next five years or so.

bugsybee - I do think that, in general, it's good for people to move away from home -- even if only temporarily -- just to find out what they're made of and to push themselves further than they ever thought they could go. Still, I do think many find a way to reach the stars without ever leaving their doorstep. So definitely there are many ways of achieving the same goal(s).

Gej - Over here I've met all kinds of Pinoys -- those who work hard so they can give back or go back (or both), as well as those who just want to start fresh and never ever look back. I think you know which category I fall into.:)

[ros]

"I've never heard of nation-building being put on the shoulders of those who have already left it."

>>> I've never heard of one...Is it a part of our culture?

[Gigi]

Ros - Gawd, I sure hope not.