Lola's Secret, Lola's Pain

Before english class last Tuesday, I never knew about the "Comfort Women".  Professor Jennifer Derilo, an instructor at SWCC, shared and discussed an excerpt from Lola's House: Women Living With War.  It is a vivid clarification of a time in history where acts of horrific violence took its toll on the innocent.  After the reading, I could not help but to feel a sense of injustice... hate, even.  Why?  My mother wasn't one of these comfort women... or was she?  Impossible.  According to her, she was never near japanese occupied territories.  But still...  I'm sure Professor Derilo's intent was not to light or rekindle a hate for the japanese empire, but it did.  Besides, weren't these the same soldiers that drove Filipino and American soldiers in the Bataan Death March?  Weren't these the same men that starved my lolo to death?  Am I wrong to feel this way?  If you were me, would you feel this way?

Filipinos in San Diego

A couple weeks ago (yeah, I know this one's a little late), I attended a book signing spotlighting Judy Patacsil, one of the authors of the book Filipinos in San Diego. I was taken back by the history of Filipinos in and around San Diego. One of the chapters focused on the early Filipino settlers in San Diego. Pictured in this chapter are some of the Filipino owned businesses that were established in what is now downtown San Diego and the Gas Lamp District.  Today, these cafés, night clubs and restaurants are gone.  If these Filipino businesses survived the renovations of the areas, what would Downtown and Gas Lamp look like today?

Rags to Riches

So I watched the documentary The Learning.  It was interesting to watch these teachers go from their provincial classes of the Philippines to the inner city schools of Baltimore.  Some the teachers went to their new jobs expecting to work with children who had an unconditional respect for instructors.  Instead, they were challenged with rejection by the students.  There was some emphasis on the hardships they experienced from leaving their loved ones back home and the conflicts that arose between them and their families that did not understand how life really is in the States.

I commend these teachers, especially the women that left their husbands and children back home. They did it out of necessity, I think.  This was an opportunity to earn more than what they could earn in the Philippines and to make a better life for their families.  It is unfortunate that some of their families have a preconceived notion that money grows on trees in America. I had to chuckle a little bit when Angel’s mother said "rags to riches".

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.