Balikbayan Box Musings: Experiences with the cardboard companion over the years

I’m one week away from another visit to the Philippines and am finishing up routine preparations. These frequent jaunts over the past few years have helped me connect with the nation of our heritage. I've developed the typical travel habits of the returning overseas Pilipino, in particular that cardboard companion that is synonymous with someone returning to the Philippines. Yes, I’m focusing at that quintessential box filled with pasalubong for relatives. That same box that is filled with bittersweet emotions, including those stemming from: the nights my mom spends packing them up with corned beef, my sweat-drenched navigation between terminals in Manila with these boxes in tow, and the appreciation that I’ve seen from the faces of family who welcome and help me lug them into our jeepney.

I’m sure this rings true with many fellow Fil-Ams. I’ve grown up playing with those boxes as they slowly filled up. I’d feel like an adult whenever I was able to do things, like write our home address on the sides, push the luggage cart that carried them, or help dad lift them out of the baggage carousel. I considered it a crowning achievement when I traveled solo from Japan to the Philippines during my senior year of high school and brought my very first balikbayan box filled with goods from a Japanese 100 Yen shop, much to the amusement of my relatives.

Over the years, a question arose as I became the more efficient traveler that George Clooney fittingly described in Up in the Air: "why bother bringing the box?" As the trips came and went, I became more irritated at having to drag that box around. It was big, heavy, cumbersome, and ruined the traveling "rhythm" that I had mastered during other international trips.

“Why should I bother to bring Spam and hand-me-downs when I could probably buy them when I arrive? I mean, I’d be helping the local economy more by doing so!” was the mentality that I acquired after several trips. I challenged others on the rationale of having to bring those boxes, the bane of existence for baggage screeners, ground handlers, and bystanders caught up in a bottleneck created by a queue of balikbayan box-laden passengers waiting to check-in.

“It’s not a trip to the Philippines without one!” was a common response I’d encounter.

But then I'd remember the past, when our family trips to the Philippines weren’t as frequent. Twenty years ago, my mom wanted to fill each box with as much as she could. Unlike today where she visits once or twice a year, she wanted to have the box stocked with goods that she herself enjoyed and wanted to share with her siblings. Looking back, it hit me: the balikbayan box brought the sort of connection that otherwise couldn’t be felt by sending a remittance via Western Union. It’s almost like that “physical gift vs. gift card” argument that I’d always hear whenever the holiday season would come. I would see it whenever I would shop alongside excited OFWs at a Carrefour in Dubai, who would stock up on stuff that weren't available or of the same quality in the Philippines, but nonetheless, they were things to that they wanted to share with loved ones at home.

More trips would pass and I would obtain frequent flyer benefits that were certainly worthy of a box-touting passenger. For a while, I did not tell my mom the fact that I could check in a maximum of three bags at 70 pounds each for free AND that these parcels were among the first out in the baggage claim! Alas, I spilled the beans, much to her delight. While I was glad to have lightened the load by ejecting the need to drag the box, a part of me felt like I could try to do something constructive with those benefits.

Through such reflection, my opinion on the balikbayan box has shifted. I started to look into various charitable causes in the Philippines and wanted to utilize the box and my baggage allowance for good. I asked my frequent flying buddies to donate their hotel toiletries so I could deliver them to a non-profit in Quezon City that takes care of underage victims of physical and sexual abuse. I had a friend from a sports store donate some soccer balls to a Gawad Kalinga soccer program. And — my most favorite of them all — I have spent countless hours digging around swap meets, used bookstores, and supply store sales for children’s books and discounted school supplies; I donate these items to several schools and literacy programs in the Philippines all of whom have expressed appreciation for the much-needed material.

It’s been two decades since the kindergarten version of me etched our home address in a balikbayan box. In this upcoming trip, we’re going to dedicate a library in honor of my late brother. And of course that library needs books, of which I’m bringing a bunch of them with me inside the latest of the many balikbayan boxes we’ve transported over the years. A part of me still feels a bit weird in bringing Spam (my mom still manages to sneak a can or two in). At the end of the day, however, I’m still going back to the Philippines with a symbol that remains as the centerpiece of the returning overseas Pilipino. For this, I am very honored to have balikbayan boxes as travel companions. 

May I have your attention please? Helping Pilipino travelers and loved ones in America's gateway to the Pacific

"Airports see more sincere kisses than wedding halls. The walls of hospitals have heard more prayers than the walls of churches." - Anonymous

I've seen this anonymous quote re-blogged on Tumblr several times, and can't help but return to it. The first part truly resonates with me. I have a passion for aviation and through that I consider an airport as my playground while others might see it as place that many might dread - and understandably so! In airports I watch in envy as folks depart on their flights, being whisked away to another continent in a matter of hours. It's an envy that I've fed, and has transformed into an addiction to traveling. Over time, frequent plane-spotting jaunts became shifts at an information desk in Los Angeles International Airport. And one thing I loved about my position was unique sort of people-watching that can take place.

On the Arrivals level of an airport, one sees excited family members reunite with loved ones, chauffeurs holding names of business travelers written on paper, and couples in deep embraces. Go up one level to Departures and it already seems like a world away: scenes of families turn bittersweet as those loved ones eventually leave, businessmen shaking hands with the chauffeurs after what seems like a successful trip, and couples exchanging one last passionate kiss before parting ways.

My shift at the booth was during the late afternoon/early evening rush at the Tom Bradley International Terminal (TBIT) at the Los Angeles International Airport - LAX. It was during this shift that you'd see a truly international crowd. Flights from Asia, Europe, and South America would cram passengers of a cornucopia of backgrounds into the arrivals area of TBIT. One moment, I'd be speaking over the PA system, slaughtering the name of a passenger off an Emirates flight from Dubai. The next moment I'd be trying to remember whatever Japanese I knew to explain the baggage recheck process to tourists fresh off the ANA flight from Haneda. Another moment would be spent calming down a frustrated passenger fresh from the British Airways flight from Heathrow who wanted to file a complaint about his treatment with Customs and Border Protection. But one flight that I always looked forward to was one that seemed so close to home: Philippine Airlines 103.

This, alongside other flights coming in from Asia at that hour, would provide a steady stream of passengers whose customs I'm not only familiar with, but am comfortable to share. As long as there were no other passengers waiting, I'd engage in banter ranging from where they hailed from in the Philippines to hearing the stories of the trip they just returned from. I'd run into balikbayans coming back and OFWs heading to work in cruise ships based in Florida. There were also Pilipino tourists who were willing to go through the gauntlet of getting a visa in order to visit LA and the occasional lost Tita, who'd burst into tears as I both comforted her and tried tracking down her family. I'd end up resorting to finding her children on Facebook, then messaging them to pick up their mom. I never thought I could justify Facebook stalking...

On the note of asking Pilipino travelers where they hail from, I met a gentleman fresh from PR103. He came up a couple times and asked me to page his family for him. Third time around, I asked him where he was from and it turned out he lived in the town next to my mom's. As luck would have it, he actually knew my uncle - the parish priest of their town! Can you imagine? At the main international terminal of one of the world's busiest airports - and America's gateway to the Asia Pacific - I ended up running into someone who has heard my uncle's homilies on a constant basis.

And along with the aforementioned titles that LAX holds (one of my favorites being "armpit of the West Coast"), it also is an airport of many celebrity sightings. It's something that shouldn't be unexpected considering the proximity to the SoCal film industry. Thanks to such a distinction, there were teams of paparazzi camping around the terminals, and these teams were always a ball to witness in action. Though it was a common occurrence, it was always a pleasant surprise to see a celebrity myself, especially if he or she was Pilipino.

The night that the cast of Be Careful With My Heart came through LAX was certainly one to remember. I remember seeing way more Fil-Am meet-and-greeters than usual. There was one who constantly came up to the desk to check the status on PR103. Eventually, I asked if she had someone onboard that flight and then it finally all came together: the cast of Be Careful With My Heart were due to arrive on that flight. Once the cast exited immigration, pandemonium ensued. Fans ran to Richard Yap and Jodi Santamaria as they slowly inched their way to a private vehicle. It was a procession of celebrities and fans that caused a mess to the traffic bottleneck that already was in TBIT - my heart went out to LAXPD that night. Noticing the flood of Pilipinos in the arrivals area, I was even asked by other bystanders if Manny Pacquiao had flown into LAX.

A habit that I've adopted, either from my upbringing or from the frequent trips to the Philippines, is what seems like a simple thing to do: smile. During the latter, I saw such smiling faces from children who'd lost much from Typhoon Yolanda (Haiyan). But even without going to that extreme, I've been greeted by smiling Pilipinos everytime I return to the Philippines. From the sweet Tita operating the nearby sari-sari store, to the bandolier-clad and M-60 machine gun-armed Philippine marine, they'd always raise a smile when I'd make eye contact with them. I mean, if a someone like Kuya Marine (who had every right to be a macho badass) managed to crack a smile despite the circumstances, I learned I could certainly make the effort as well. And indeed that effort became rewarding, especially while working at LAX. Such a simple act has proven helpful in disarming stress and presenting welcoming relief to exhausted travelers.

I've since moved to Hawaii and while Honolulu's coverage of flights across the Pacific are nothing to sneeze about, nothing beat the sheer mass that LAX had. I looked forward to Thursday nights, working the desk alongside folks who were also car dealers, engineers, lawyers, a nun and a World War II vet! But one thing I really miss the most is welcoming the passengers of PR103. To be able to be a part of the journey that Pilipinos would take to and from their homes, and to provide them with the sort of familiarity while rendering assistance, were things I truly took pride in. Alongside the "yokoso", "bienvenidos", and "willkommen" that I would use to greet passengers from ANA, Iberia and Lufthansa flights, I'd always look forward to saying it for our PR103 passengers in Tagalog:

Mabuhay!