Both

I've always defined myself as being half-Indian, sort of. But recently, I've had the opportunity to think a lot about what my being Filipino is all about.

I've been selected to be part of, shall we say... a programme. I won't talk about it in detail until I've super-super-confirmed that there's no way I'm not going, but if you'll notice how I've spelt programme, that's a clue to what I'm going to be doing. Or at the very least, where I'll be going.

Anyway, I've been selected to be a part of the Philippine team of said programme. And suddenly, I'm going to be representing this country I've always described as being only half of what I am. People are going to see me and talk to me and say, "Oh, you're Filipino." And they're most probably not ever going to be able to tell I'm half-anything else. Maybe for the first time in my life, I'm going to be known as a Filipino. Completely.

Recently, I went away for a week to attend a workshop where I was going to get to know more about this programme. And I only realized it later, but I seemed to be talking a lot about my Indian experience. I was even super-excited to learn there were a lot of Indians where I was going, and I kept asking about and reacting to stuff related to that. Our supervisor even pointed out that, being Filipino-Indian, my experience was definitely not fully Filipino, but that wasn't a bad thing and that I was even a celebration of two cultures, and no one expected me to be waving the flag for Filipino nationalism.

But later on, when I was going on about bringing a kurta with me, which is an Indian outfit for guys, another participant jokingly pointed out that I was representing Filipino culture and that I should think more about bringing a barong.

Now I've kind of been thinking about why I feel more Indian. I've lived here longer, and all my adult experiences, opinions, basically all I know and the way I think have been formed in the Philippines. I only really lived in India for six years and, while those were my formative years, I was still pretty young when we moved to Manila. And anyway, the India I knew back then and the India of today are vastly different places. All I really truly know now is the Philippines. This place is and always will be home.

This kind of cultural schizophrenia may seem unrelatable to people who've either been born and raised in the country of their parents, or who've spent their whole lives in just one country, regardless of their ethnicity. But it's different for someone like me, who not only has parents from two different countries, but whose spent a significant amount of time growing up in both. Answering the question "Who are you" isn't so simple for me.

But I guess it's one thing for other people to treat you foreign, and a whole different thing for you to feel foreign about yourself. You don't have to.

Maybe I shouldn't worry so much about boxing my experiences into which one is Indian and which one is Filipino. Maybe instead of defining my experiences, I should just let my experiences define me.

My Filipino experience will always be different, simply because I've had to actually learn huge parts of it, formally, as well as share it with another culture I grew up in too. But at the end of the day, it is a Filipino experience. And I am a Filipino.

I read an article a long time ago about a British man who was living in Japan, and whose wife, I think, was Japanese. Anyway, the point is that they were going to have a child there. So someone pointed out to him that, "Oh, your child is going to be a half." He thought about that for a while and then replied, "No, she's going to be a both."

I'm not half-anything, I realize now. You can't measure and quantify your life, your culture, who you are. And if I'm an Indian, then I'm most definitely a Filipino too.

I'm a both.

I'll Tell You Where I Work Babe

"Where do you work," I got asked at a recent get-together with old classmates I don't see a lot of. Then she answered her own question: "Let me guess, nasa call center ka 'no?"

Excuse me?

I studied several years, and then managed to graduate in the face of a bitch who all but sat on my grades to keep me from leaving school successfully. And then I placed eighth in the national board exam for social workers.

That's eighth place. In the entire country.

So no honey, I don't work in a call center. I'm a social worker. And I work in a foundation. With former street-children.

And even if I did work in a call center, I'd still be offended. Saying "Let me guess, nasa call center ka 'no?" implies a certain disdain for people who work in call centers, as if they're settling for something less. It's kind of rude, don't you think?

I'm sure no offense was meant, but offense I did take. Sort of. And when I'm (semi-)pissed, I blog.

I should get some credit eh, and not still be defined by the fact that English is my first language.

I don't know if anyone's noticed, but I have some kick-ass brains to go along with my mastery of the language of Western imperialists.