identity

A Survey of Philippine Literature

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In general, the default condition for much of Philippine literature is obscurity.

To learn more about a country and people, a good place to start is their literature. The most loved books of a people are like a lens with which to understand them. With respect to the seven thousand islands, what books are these? Filipinos do not usually think of themselves as a particularly literary people. For those living abroad, literature is secondary to food, television, or music when it comes to reminding them of their homeland. In general, the default condition for much of Philippine literature is obscurity. At home or abroad, Filipinos are more likely to be interested in global pop culture, whether from the United States or more recently, South Korea.

This is unfortunate considering the range and depth of Philippine literature. The Philippines is unique for having important works in many languages. These might be grouped into four - Philippine literature in Spanish, Tagalog, English, and other Philippine languages. It might seem that these different bodies of work correspond only with a period of colonial domination, but this is misleading. Philippine authors made these languages their own, adding a distinct voice to them that was unique to our archipelago.

The most politically important body of Philippine literature is that which was written in Spanish. The Propaganda movement, which included Jose Rizal agitated for independence in the 1880’s and 1890’s, writing exclusively in Spanish. Rizal’s two most important novels, Noli Me Tangere and El Flibusterismo were written in Spanish as well. However, during the American colonial period, Spanish was gradually replaced over the next few decades by English. Even if Rizal was celebrated as a national hero, his writing was almost never read in the original Spanish. Noli and Fili have been taught to generations of schoolchildren, but always in translation. Rizal was not the only major writer in Spanish. Important contemporaries were Marcelo H. del Pilar and Graciano Lopez Jaena. A generation after Rizal came Claro M. Recto, a nationalist lawyer and author, who championed independence from the United States. Recto also wrote primarily in Spanish on a wide range of topics. While all of these figures are honored and celebrated in the Philippines, not much attention is paid to what they wrote, let alone what language they used. Sadly, the old quip about the classics is very applicable to Philippine writing in Spanish - praised by all, read by few.

Tagalog introduction to Florante at Laura

Tagalog is the oldest literary language of the archipelago and now, the most widespread. The earliest major work in Tagalog was Francisco Balagtas’ Florante at Laura, an epic poem published in 1838. Florante at Laura is still taught in schools across the country as the epitome of literary Tagalog. For purposes of comparison, Balagtas wrote at roughly the same time as Edgar Allen Poe and a few decades before Charles Dickens. While important, Florante at Laura can be difficult for modern Tagalog speakers to understand, let alone those learning the language. Thankfully, there have been many authors since Balagtas who have continued to write in Tagalog. Andres Bonifacio, founder of the Katipunan, also wrote in Tagalog, notably the poem Pag-ibig sa Tinubuang Lupa, roughly translated as Love for Native Land. Since then, Tagalog literature has continued to grow. Some modern authors include Ceres S.C. Alabado, writer of Kangkong 1896, a look at the Revolution from a young boy’s perspective, and Lualhati Bautista, author of Dekada Setenta and Bata, Bata… Pa'no Ka Ginawa?. Dekada follows a middle class family through the martial law years, and Bata is about the struggles of a single mother. Both were turned into full length films starring Vilma Santos. Today, the largest venue for Tagalog literature is the internet, with many aspiring writers publishing their work online. A few of these become successful enough to get film adaptations, among them being Diary ng Panget and She’s Dating the Gangster, films released in 2014 that began as online novels. While Tagalog may have changed considerably since the days of Balagtas, it is now a truly national language that has a large and thriving literature.

English remains the language of the Philippine elite. Though there was considerable resistance to English in the first part of the 20th century, Philippine writers mastered it quickly. Paz Marquez-Benitez wrote the first short story in English in 1925, entitled Dead Stars. However, it was not until after WW2 that English became language of choice for authors. The largest names in 20th century Philippine literature wrote in English, namely, Nick Joaquin, F. Sionil Jose, Jose Garcia Villa, and others. Perhaps the most important writer in English was Nick Joaquin, whose career spanned from the start of WW2 to the post-Marcos era. Nick Joaquin wrote dozens of short stories, two novels, hundreds of journalistic features, political commentary, historical analysis, biographies, plays, and much more, all in English. He was honored as a National Artist for Literature in 1976. Nick Joaquin attempted to create genuinely Philippine voice in English, going as far as trying to translate Tagalog expressions into English. Among his more notable works are the play A Portrait of the Artist as Filipino and the short story May Day Eve. In our new century, there have been many authors who have continued to write in English. An internationally awarded contemporary writer in English is Miguel Syjuco, author of the 2010 book Illustrado.

The Hiligaynon Bible.

 Literature in other Philippine languages may be the hardest genre to appreciate but is often the most sentimentally or personally important. For the roughly two thirds of Filipinos who do not speak Tagalog as their native language, not many books are written in their languages. The situation varies depending on the language, as some regional languages are larger and have more reach than others. Visayan languages with more speakers, like Cebuano and Hiligaynon, are large enough to have their own TV and radio stations. But in general, most Philippine languages are in the shadow of English and Tagalog. Still, there are some important works that can be found in these other languages. The Bible has been translated into every major Philippine language – whether Tagalog, Cebuano, Ilocano, Pangasinense, Kapampangan, Waray, Hiligaynon, Kinaray-a, and others. YouTube is also a goldmine for finding songs, comedy skits, amateur films, and all manner of material in these languages. The value of this material is more educational than literary. Most Filipinos born abroad have a difficult enough time learning Tagalog, let alone the regional language that their parents might speak. But these materials have the potential to teach them how.

 In summary, the Philippines has a very rich but fragmented literary tradition. Indeed, because of the number of languages in the islands, it has been difficult for a single book or novel to have an effect nationwide. Class also plays a role, as the educated elite and the masses rarely speak the same language. Regardless, over the past two centuries, our authors have created a literature distinctly our own. What remains for us to do today is to appreciate it and contribute to it. In the 21st century diaspora era, Filipinos have reached more parts of the globe than ever before.  Europe, North America, the Middle East, and the rest of Asia are familiar places in the mind of the OFW. With such global reach, the wealth of languages in our literary tradition should be strength, not a weakness. We have a rich literary tradition, one that should not be ignored, and one that we should contribute to.

About the author


10352321_10153026739129050_5599371636193964618_nCristobal Zarco was born in the Philippines and grew up in New York, specifically Long Island. He graduated with a degree in political science from Adelphi University. He enjoys tracking down books about Philippine history and exploring lesser known parts of New York City.


The Northern Philippines as a Filipino Identity Sampler

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The Philippines has a rich history and culture, but we sometime do not understand it well enough to realize to what extent. It is not a question of whether we have it or not, rather, it is of how much we really know and are aware of it. For those who would want to get reacquainted with the Filipino identity and our past, I usually recommend taking a nativist-themed trail up north. The beauty of the Northern Philippines lies on the fact that it is home to three UNESCO World Cultural Heritage Sites.

What does this mean?

A World Heritage Site (WHS) is any given natural or cultural place, monument or landscape that holds outstanding universal values critical to the development of humanity and diversity. Some of the more popular WHS around the world include the Great Wall, the Italian cities of Venice, Rome and Florence, the Taj Mahal, Chitchen Itza, the Great Barrier Reefs, and even the Statue of Liberty. Regardless of popularity and fame, all of these places are treated with equal degree of importance under UNESCO conventions.

With the recent addition of Mt. Hamiguitan Range Wildlife Sanctuary in Mindanao, the Philippines now has six sites listed as WHS. Two of which are the Puerto Princesa Subterranean River National Park and Tubattaha Reefs Marine Park -- both are marine natural sites in Palawan. The other three are cultural sites found in the Northern Philippines: the Rice Terraces of the Philippine Cordilleras, the Historic Town of Vigan, and the Baroque Churches of the Philippines.

From Manila, one can make a Do-It-Yourself trip to take on this cultural heritage trail. A bus from Manila can take you to Banaue, the jump-off point for the rice terraces. From there, vans can be arranged to bring you down to Vigan. Sta. Maria is also along the way to Vigan, and finally, going further north by bus will bring you to Paoay in Ilocos Norte. Each place offers a taste of the depth of Philippine history.

Rice Terraces of the Philippine Cordilleras

Agricultural terracing is not unique to the Philippines. China, Indonesia, and Viet Nam have it. Peru and even Switzerland have this method, too. What makes the rice terraces in the Philippines unique is that they are the oldest and most extensive continually-used rice terraces in the world. As a comparison, these rice terraces have been around much longer than Machu Picchu or Angkor have! The more noticeable distinguishing marks of these engineering marvels would be their heights that reach as high as 1,500 metres from the base, and their steepness that defies limits with 70 degrees maximum angulation.

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The incredible mixture of purely man-made terraces, the mountains, the muyongs (forest caps), traditional hamlets, and other visible cultural artefacts in the region certainly does not disappoint. The Food and Agriculture Organization has cited the rice terraces as an outstanding example of “worldwide, specific agricultural systems and landscapes (that) have been created, shaped and maintained by generations of farmers and herders based on diverse natural resources, using locally adapted management practices.” The American Society of Civil Engineers also named the rice terraces as a 'Historic Engineering Landmark' for water supply and control. In 1997, the same group came to the Philippines and formally declared (through a marker) the rice terraces as the [original] 8th Wonder of the World.

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For the Filipinos, with the mode of farming and the people’s lifestyles largely unchanged, these ancient rice terraces are an enduring portrait of the ways of life of the Ifugao for over 2,000 years. The WHS-listed clusters are Batad, Bangaan, Hungduan, Mayoyao and Nagacadan rice terraces.

Historic Town of Vigan

Why does this small town merit a special place in the collective memory of the Filipino people? It is one of the few towns in the country that was spared from destruction during the World War II (Intramuros, Manila's walled district, was razed to the ground and only one building was left standing there after the war). Being the best preserved Spanish colonial-era trading town in Asia, Vigan presents itself as an intact and authentic old town. It boasts a good collection of original houses where in the ground floors are characterized as Hispanic, while its upper floors and windows suggest Chinese and Oriental influences. The best of these houses can be seen along Calle Crisologo, a cobblestone street.

One will notice that the town faithfully follows the historical “quadricula”, “plano ortogonal”, or the better known synonym "grid" streetplan. This, believe it or not, is the most 'Hispanic' feature of the town.DSC_0992

The interior of a typical Vigan villa can be seen when visiting the likes of the Sy-Quia mansion, the family house of the former President Quirino.

In 2012, Vigan bagged the  'Best Management Practices for a World Heritage City' award in a worldwide competition by UNESCO. This year, Vigan reached the final stage in the search for the New Seven Wonders Cities of the World. (To vote for Vigan, visit: http://www.n7w.com/cities/en)

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Baroque Churches of the Philippines: Sta. Maria

Aside from the San Agustin church inside Intramuros and the Miag-ao church in Iloilo, the Northern Philippines boasts two of the best examples of Philippine Spanish-era churches. The town of Sta. Maria, some 40 minutes south of Vigan, houses a citadel church built on top of a fortified hill. In the older days, the only way to reach the church is through the 82-step staircase made of granite slabs, making the complex easily defended.

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Made of red bricks, the Sta. Maria dela Asuncion church boasts a set of massive buttresses that supports the structure from the damages of earthquakes. The pagoda-shaped bell tower is leaning due to the collapsing retaining walls around the hill, which placed this church in the '100 Most Endangered Sites' in 2010 by the World Monument Watch.

Baroque Churches of the Philippines: Paoay  

The crowning gem of the “earthquake baroque architecture” is the San Agustin church in Paoay. This edifice is largely made of coralstones that have been glued together using egg whites, lime powder and mollases. This important church features a mixture of Oriental, Malay, and Western influences in its design. This comes as no surprise as long before the Spaniards reached present-day Paoay, the site was already a trading settlement known as Bombay in earlier records.

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Keen eyes will notice some fading carvings and bas-reliefs around the church. The most important exponent of this church are definitely its beautifully-constructed buttresses on its sides. Paoay church is considered to be as a masterpiece of the Filipino reinterpretation of the baroque movement, fusing European principles with local Filipino craftmanship. The bell tower is also separated from the church as a precautionary measure against the effects of earthquakes – this architectural innovation is unique to Philippine churches.

The churches of the Philippines are unique, and, thus, cannot be compared to those found in Europe or Latin America. As religious monuments, they are key in spreading further the Christian faith in the region (Southeast and East Asia, and the Pacific Islands). While as cultural specimens, they embody the artistic, technological, and intellectual interchange between the West and the East for more than three centuries.

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While knowing and understanding Philippine history and culture is a large part of what I do as a heritage advocate, the biggest challenge is in making others see and appreciate things the way I do.

I often have a hard time convincing friends who have already settled abroad to come back home to re-experience their native land. Most of them would rather spend their vacations going around Europe or elsewhere in Asia to see cultural and grand ancient monuments or old towns, believing none exist here.

 

 


74762_10151172406852613_687399416_nBernard Joseph Esposo Guerrero is a self-confessed cultural junky. Based in the Philippines, he has delivered several talks on tourism, destination promotion and management, and the importance of cultural conservation. As a heritage advocate and consultant, he has assisted and appeared in some features by the Euronews, NGC-Asia, Solar TV, ABS-CBN Regional News Network, as well as being cited by the Philippine Star and the PIA. He enjoys ticking off as many UNESCO World Heritage Sites as possible. So far, Gunung Mulu National Park in Sarawak, the Preah Vihear Temple in Cambodia, and the Philippines' Apo Reef and Ifugao Rice Terraces are the best places he has seen in SE Asia.


Discover other similar posts on Bernard's blog.

Photo credit: theberntraveler.wordpress.com

SPAM: A Story of Love and Hate

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A Hormel advertisement from the 1940's showing Americans how many different meals they can make with SPAM. For many Pilipinos, there’s nothing like the sound of sizzling SPAM on a hot frying pan just before brunch. When I was in college, a taste of home was never far away as I always made sure that a little rectangular can of SPAM was gleefully sitting in my kitchen cabinet. On lazy Sunday mornings I would throw it over a bed of white rice and enjoy the savory smell of spiced ham wafting in the air.

My (non-Pilipino) roommates, however, did not share the same sentiments as I did. Any mention of eating SPAM was met with a grimace and a resounding: “Ew! Why?”

One of them was so disgusted at the mere presence of SPAM that she wanted to forbid me from cooking it in the apartment while she was home. Sure, I understood that SPAM had a bad rep for being artificial mystery meat, but I was still offended. To me, SPAM was more than just processed meat in a can. It was part of my family and my culture. It was a part of who I was.

My grossed out friends did make one valid point, however: Why? Why did the Pilipino side of me identify so strongly with an American brand of canned pork shoulder and ham? And why was it so despised in its own country of origin?

During World War II, SPAM became the ideal candidate for food rations because it was a cheap and nonperishable good source of protein, and masses of it were sent overseas to American troops. After the Japanese invaded the Philippines, the American soldiers stationed there were able to give their surplus food rations to fleeing Filipinos who were forced to abandon their homes, and thus the SPAM sensation began.

Back in the United States, getting one’s hands on fresh meat during wartime was not easy. For the same economical reasons SPAM spammed its way onto everybody’s plates and eventually became so ubiquitous that everybody grew sick of it. According to Ty Matejowsky, “it was and will always remain an unappetizing reminder of the widespread deprivation brought on by the Great Depression and World War II."

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But while SPAM became associated with poverty and unrefinement in the U.S., the very fact that it was an American product ironically elevated SPAM to a foreign delicacy in the Philippines, gratifying happy consumers spanning the working class to the wealthy. Today, SPAM has become so riotously popular among Pilipinos around the world that it is now considered a staple in Pilipino cuisine and inseparable from Pilipino identity. Pilipino obsession with SPAM has reached such a level a fanaticism that there is a restaurant in Manila entirely dedicated to it called the SPAMJAM Café (featuring SPAM Burgers, SPAM Spaghetti, SPAM nuggets, and oh so much more). Maharlika, the hot modern Pilipino restaurant in New York City, flaunts preparing SPAM with a sophisticated flare, including menu choices like beer-battered SPAM fries wittily described as “fresh from the can.”

Beer-battered SPAM fries are a popular appetizer at Maharlika in New York City.

Its history has evolved SPAM into a complex cultural symbol for both Pilipinos and Americans. SPAM is a symbol of love and hate, rich and poor. It’s a symbol of America’s colonial expansion into Asia and the Pacific and also a reflection of the Pilipino colonial mentality. For many Fil-Ams like myself, eating American SPAM is strangely an expression of my Pilipino identity that clashes against my American one. And although it can sometimes represent shame, SPAM has also become a symbol of pride, rallying Pilipino communities together with gelatinous cohesion.

In all essence, SPAM is the past and the future all globbed together in one little rectangular can. And gosh darn it, it tastes great too. I love SPAM. There, I said it.


 

Photo credits: 2.bp.blogspot.com, vintageadbrowser.com, thinrecipes.com, realcheapeats.com

Watch Your Language! Common Microaggressions Against Asian Americans

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“Where do you come from?!” a little girl confusedly asked me one day in the middle of class. “I come from Virginia, just like you.”

“But why do you look like you come from China?”

“My parents grew up in Asia, but I was born here in America. People like that are called Asian Americans.”

“That’s weird!”

As she pranced away, I thought about how this tiny preschooler had been alive no more than four years and already had the conception that only white people were from America. Granted, Charlottesville is largely a white city in Virginia, but there were still a good handful of Asian American, African American, and other ethnicities of children at the school as well.

While substitute teaching at different schools in the city, I regularly hear little white children spurt out all sorts of misguided questions and comments including: “Are you adopted?” and “Maybe you’re supposed to be in China or Japan where you belong.” Even more curious was a conversation I had with a half white and half Chinese American boy who told me he was born in the United States but was actually from China because his family went on a trip there for two weeks when he was a baby.

So what’s going on here? It is possible that these children’s parents are brazen racists indoctrinating their offspring with white supremacist dogma? Most likely not. I would argue that it has to do with microaggressions, defined by psychologist Derald Wing Sue as:

“... everyday insults, indignities and demeaning messages sent to people of color by well-intentioned people who are unaware of the hidden messages being sent to them."

The following are a few common microagressions heard on a regular basis along with alternative ways to avoid them.

1)   Where do you come from?

Message:  You couldn’t have lived in America your entire life and/or be an American citizen because of the way you look. Only white people are from America.

Alternatives: What is your ethnicity/ethnic background? What do you identify as?

The classic question possibly every non-white American loves to complain about. People who ask this are usually trying to get to know you a little better and don’t realize how it can be insulting. Any question asking about ethnic identity rather than country of origin is much more appropriate because it can be chosen to an extent by the individual, thus putting the power of identity in their hands instead of the asker’s.

2)   Calling yourself a “Twinkie” (yellow on the outside, white on the inside)

Message: The American culture that you grew up with, all the things you love to watch, eat, and experience are not rightfully yours to claim as someone with Asian ancestry. The culture that made you who you are really belongs to “whiteness.”

Alternatives: Asian American, Pilipino American, multicultural, etc.

As a teenager I used to call myself a “Twinkie” all the time. Looking back, I realized that I associated being Asian with strange and foreign, and claiming “whiteness” made me more relatable to my friends. Even at the beginning of college I chose not to join the Fil-Am student organization for fear of being branded as an Asian girl who only hangs out with Asians. Calling myself a “Twinkie” was just a funny way to say that I was ashamed of my background and was ultimately disempowering.

3)   Emphasizing that someone is Asian even though their ethnicity is completely irrelevant to what you're talking about

Message: White is normal and anyone who is different needs to identified as such.

Alternatives: Don’t do it. Be more aware of your descriptions of people.

I don’ t know how many times I’ve heard people say something like, “So I was talking to this Asian guy and he told me that a new burger place opened up nearby,” and then think to myself, “What does him being Asian have to do with anything?” If the person you were talking about were white, you’d most likely just refer to them as “that guy” since white people are often perceived to not have ethnicity. Pointing out someone’s ethnicity for no reason only further reinforces marginalized groups as not normal.

4)   Just Asian without the American

Message: Asian Americans are considered perpetual foreigners who haven’t earned their American labels even as United States citizens.

Alternatives: Asian American, Pilipino American, etc.

I admit it may sound awkward tacking on “American” all the time, but it’s just something that takes getting used to. In fact, the term “African-American” only became popularized after Jesse Jackson held a news conference urging its usage in 1988. Today it would feel awkward calling someone simply “African” if they were a native-born citizen. The name Asian American acts as a unifying statement that demonstrates pride in Asian cultural heritage and American citizenship at the same time.

Is using these types of language outwardly racist? No. Do I think they reflect current race relations in America and have a role in imprinting certain prejudiced beliefs even on young children? Yes. These microagressions are one reason that Asian Americans are still not perceived as truly belonging despite being part of the United States since the 1850s. As a consequence, the Asian American community lacks presence in politics and popular media, and its level of cultural understanding barely goes beyond Kung Fu and geisha stereotypes. DeAngelis writes that psychological research on microaggressions suggest they may also “erode people’s mental health, job performance and the quality of social experience.”

If you happen to let these phrases slip from time to time, no one blames you. It’s just what we’ve all become used to hearing and saying. But next time, think about what your words really mean and use them in a way that embraces all backgrounds and the people in front of them.

Photo Credit: Buzzfeed-21 Racial Microagressions You Hear On A Daily Basis

Being Pilipino in Taiwan

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A few months ago, as my family and I were planning my study abroad trip to Taiwan, my dad quietly asked me if I could go to another country, a “safer” country. The half-joking request boggled my mind at the time because I had never gotten the impression that Taiwan was a dangerous country. I kept his question in the back of my brain, and did not contemplate switching my study abroad destination. I’d always liked Taiwan and, besides, I was already too deep into the application process. After letting the question brew in my head for awhile, I realized that he wasn’t worried that I would be stabbed to death and left on the streets in a foreign country. He was more worried that I wouldn’t fit in. Sometimes I look very Pilipino. I know that not all Pilipinos look alike; but I have the stereotypical nose, the big eyes, and the tan skin. Sometimes, my stunningly good looks throw people off, as people guess that I'm anywhere from Chinese to Malaysian. My dad probably fretted over my Pilipino side coming out and assumed that I would stick out like a sore thumb. In fact, a few days ago, he sent me a text briefly warning me of potential racism:

“If ever, don’t let it affect you. Be careful.”

However, despite the advantages of my dual looks, I have had a bad experience with racism in the past, so my dad's concern was quite understandable.

Now that I’m settled in at my university in Taiwan, I can assure my dad that he need not worry. I don’t stick out as much as my two white friends who tower at least a good foot above everyone else. In fact, the only moments where it’s obvious that I’m a foreigner is when I am speaking, because my Chinese is laced with American tones. When I go to places with my friends, I’m lumped with my Taiwanese friends. The waiters and waitresses welcome us with “ni hao,” while my white friends are greeted with “hello.” The most I get to a strange look or reaction from the local population is when I’m standing on the bus and people get the chance to give me a good look-over. Or so I assume.

Ironically, when I was in the Philippines, there was no doubt about it that I was American. My demeanor made it obvious that I was a foreigner. I could do as the locals do, but the way I held myself made me stick out. Once, while I was in a market helping my cousin buy flip flops, a schoolgirl passed by and gave me a look that was dripping with disdain. I'm not quite sure of what she was thought, so one can only assume. To this day, I still can’t find the words to express the difference between me and the locals. While I thought I was blending in, I must’ve seemed like a piece of cauliflower in a field of broccoli.

There are many factors we need to take into account when comparing my experience in the Philippines to my experience in Taiwan. For example, the locations that I frequented in the Philippines and those that I explore here in Taiwan. But those factors aside, I felt more like a foreigner in the Philippines than I do in Taiwan. In Taiwan, there may be a little confusion as to my ethnicity when you first look at me, but for the most part I blend in.

Still, you never know. Perhaps it is obvious that I’m Pilipino, but my foreigner status protects me like a shield from any racism I might incur. Or maybe my dad, wracked with worry over his first-born traveling to a foreign country alone for five months, was just overly concerned. The constant repeats of failing to fit in possibly heightened my dad’s dread of my departure.

Being Pilipino in Taiwan isn’t a problem. I think the problem is the fact that we fear that there is one.

Credit: Pam Wang