My Lolo

But what about my Lolo who lives no more?
Well, he got an American flag at his funeral
Kevin Nadal, Ikaw

Yeah, my grandfather, my Lolo was there.  And like just like in the poem, he got a flag.  That flag, tattered from multiple homes and singed from surviving a fire, was carried to the states by my Lola.  Probably the only material thing left that had any connection to my Lolo; she cherrished that flag. 

Free Write 20Sep

In the first chapter of Kevin Nadals' book Filipino American Psychology, he covers the Filipino immigrant "waves" and Filipino American generations.  I have a personal connection to the material mentioned in this chapter since I grew up in the last few years of the "Manong" era.  My parents lived in the camps surrounding Pu'unene, specifically McGerrow Camp.  I never lived there, but after my parents settled in the suburbs of Kahului, we still visited close family friends and relatives that still lived in the plantation camps. 

I imagine that the way of life had not changed much since the camps were first built.  I did not know much about the community as I was a small child then.  But after reading this chapter and doing some research on the internet, I started to recount visits to old Pu'unene as child.  My fondest memories are those fishing for tilapia with my father in the irrigation canals.  With the old camp homes now gone and the town almost deserted, old Pu'unene only survives in books, small museums and my childhood memories.

No sáan nga makaammó nga nangtaliáw ti naggapuánna, saán a makadánon ti papanánna.

He who does not look back to his origins will not reach his destination.  This Ilocano proverb summarizes the literature used by the Bayan Learning Community that we find ourselves in.  Regardless of our ethnic backgrounds, we must remember where we came from to know where we are going.

My name is Juan and I am a Filipino American.  My father was an immigrant plantation laborer working in the sugar cane fields of Maui.  There he raised our family in a close community of other “Manongs” and their families.  Life there was hard, but simple.  This is my origin, or so I thought.

My journeys have brought me here, to this Bayan Learning Community.  Ignorant about most of my ethnic history, I now vigorously search for my origins that dates before Spanish and American rule.  As I discover more in my studies, I will pass what I learn.  Please share your thoughts, experiences about finding your origins.