Monday, August 11, 2014

My Journey: A Final Blog


Before this trip, the Philippines was a place that existed mostly in my mind and my dreams. I’d only traveled to the islands once as a small child, and by adulthood I had only small, faint memories of it (the street outside our compound, our gate, our statue of Mary, the potato stand at the mall…). The islands existed only in these memories, and in whatever I’d learned from the news or from family gossip and stories. Spending two months here has changed my ideas and perspective of the country to the point that it’s truthfully hard for me to remember how I really perceived of it before. I’m still here in the Philippines, and therefore my reflection differs from my classmates’. While it is hard to process and reflect on an overseas excursion whilst you are still living it, in no way do I regret my decision to stay an extra month. Staying with my family for a relatively substantial period of time offers me a new perspective that merely studying abroad could not give me, and I am blessed and grateful for this experience. While the Study Abroad program allowed me to visit important historical landmarks, travel with a group of students, and sight-see all over the islands, living a more relaxed, quiet life with my family allows me to see things me more from the perspective of Filipinos themselves. Although as a Fil-Am, I will never truly understand their perspective, talking with them and experiencing their daily activities helps me to gain a new perspective I did not have a chance to see through studying abroad alone. Because of that, this reflection is upon both my study abroad experience and my independent travel.
A secluded beach in southern Mindanao! Thankful I got to travel independently to the island to visit family.
In The Philippine-American War: Friendship and Forgetting, Reynaldo Ileto ( ) describes a phenomenon called “utang na loob,” or “inner debt” that Filipinos feel towards America. While many of reflected on this debt, experiences with family gave this phrase a whole new outlook. While discussing family (whether distant or close) this phrase sometimes comes up, usually when discussing the young troublemakers of the family. It is said, “Walang utang na loob siya,” or basically “They have no inner debt.” When I asked for more clarification on the meaning (as I recognized the phrase), I learned that not having utang na loob meant that the person was perceived as very ungrateful. As I have learned through experiences with my family, gratefulness is extremely crucial to have, especially when you are of “low status/rank,” meaning you are younger. Being perceived as ungrateful is very shameful in Filipino culture. Utang na loob is an important phrase and concept in Filipino culture, which helped me to understand the importance of the Philippines’ “inner debt” towards America – perhaps those that lack the utang na loob towards America are perceived negatively because they are “ungrateful.”
Ileto also speaks about how American colonialism is viewed. He says:
“Why is it is difficult to speak in terms such as invasion, resistance (so readily applied to the Japanese in World War II), war, combat, colonialism, exploitation, discrimination?” (Ileto, 1998, pg. 3)
This has served truthful in my discussions with my cousins about colonialism and outside influence upon the Philippines.  When the discussion is about America, it’s brought up that America “modernized” the islands and brought them the importance of English. When it comes to Spain, they brought culture and Christianity. When it comes to Japan, however, the tone changes. Personal attacks are made on the Japanese themselves. One of my cousins went so far as to say, “Ugh, I hate the Japanese!” Ileto and my experiences with my Filipino family taught me that it’s not just colonization – it’s who the colonizers were. To say Filipinos accepted their culture of colonization is false. While in my experiences, yes, many Filipinos look up to Spain and America, they freely call out the Japanese colonization of Spain. It is interesting to note that Spanish and American imperialism, both Western powers, receive less criticism than Japanese imperialism.
One thing I learned about that I never really understood before studying abroad is skin whitening as part of colonial mentality. Seeing its true scope is something that I’ll never forget. Prior to this trip, I had done projects on skin whitening before – but I studied South Asia, not the Philippines. I did not realize how big of a thing skin whitening is in the Philippines. While I grew up seeing skin-whitening lotions in Filipino-American stores and saw light-skinned mestizo actors/actresses in Filipino media, and even though I did suspect it was because of the desire to be like the colonizer, I did not understand how ingrained skin-whitening culture is in the Philippines. I was fortunate enough to grow up with parents who did not raise me to put light skin on a pedestal. My eldest brother, considered “dark” both in the States and here, was never encouraged to lighten his skin or seen as unattractive for his dark skin, while my younger brother (the lightest of us) was never praised for his light skin. During summer, whenever my family would “get dark,” my parents were far more concerned about skin cancer and staying hydrated than they were about my skin turning dark. My mother is unlike her siblings (the ones in the islands and the ones in the States) in that she doesn’t try to make herself lighter. Some of my other family is much different. One of my uncles here is actually in the business of selling skin-whitening products and encourages his daughters (along with the rest of our family) to use the products. His daughters take a special vitamin daily for whitening and also use whitening soap and lotion on a daily basis. Other family members have expressed shock and a little bit of aversion at how “dark” my upper-body has gotten during my time here. One of my aunts even had me try a skin-whitening body mask during a salon trip. (Yes, I did try it. It was right after a discussion on utang na loob and I know I would be perceived as ungrateful had I refused.) Even at the small market at University of Philippines, there was an aisle just for skin-whitening products. Television and radio ads here also constantly feature skin-whitening products. I believe that my privilege as an American kept me ignorant to how deep-rooted and expansive the problem of skin-whitening in the Philippines is, and traveling here really thrust me into a new world – in America I’m brown yet here I’m light. And as I do get “dark” (the word more commonly used here instead of “tan” or “brown”) my family comments upon it in a negative manner. Nevertheless, I came into this country privileged for my skin color, and will leave it privileged in many ways. While I stand out and feel uncomfortable in “wealthy spaces” in America, here I blend in a little bit more, such as in malls. My skin is relatively lighter, my hair and makeup is done, and I am dressed “stylish.” I look wealthy here – and it’s true, I have the privilege of being an American traveler here. I have gotten many compliments on my style and appearance during my stay here.  I believe this is an example of E. J. R. David and Sumie Okazaki’s concept of “denigration of the Filipino culture or body,” (2006, pg. 242) an aspect of colonial mentality. It is characterized by the notion that “American” is better, including culture and physical characteristics. Here, I look like a wealthy woman you’d find in a mall – many of the wealthy here (in the words of my cousin) “try to look American.”
Cousins
I am American – and I am also Pilipina – that is one lesson that I have learned here that will stick with me forever. While my privilege and difference puts me in an odd position here, I still feel at home. This is in part because when looking around, I am not surrounded by White people, which can be a common experience in Seattle. Because I am in the Philippines, Filipinos are not invisible, as they often are in the U.S. It’s a new feeling, one that I have embraced (with respect to my privileges, as best I can). I also find it noteworthy that although I look wealthier here, I am still perceived as Pilipin@ -- something I don’t always experience in the States. As a mixed-race Pin@y, I was always told I looked more “Latina” and because of that wasn’t really “Filipino.” Many times in public spaces, people in the States try to speak to me in Spanish or ask me if I’m Latina. While I have been recognized as Pin@y in America, it is more often the other way around. It is also more often that family and friends say I look more like my dad and more Latin@. Some distant family and friends are even shocked that I am Pin@y – I look “Mexican” or “Spanish” (they mean Latin@).  Here, unless I am in a group of other American travelers, I am perceived as a “native” Pilipin@ -- I have accidentally ignored clerks and sales associates countless times because they were speaking to me, in Tagalog, and I didn’t notice. My cousins and Titos/Titas even tell me, “What? You don’t look like your dad. You look super Filipino!” Most people I’ve met (unless I’m with the Study Abroad group) have perceived me as native Filipino until I open my mouth and they hear my accent.
I believe that one of the reasons I am perceived as Latin@ rather than possibly Pin@y in the States is because of the invisibility of Pilipin@s in America. As a mixed-race American who is both Latin@ and Pilipin@, I truly believe that although Latin@s don’t have adequate representation, they have a much higher visibility than Pin@ys and other Southeast Asians/Pacific Islanders. Because of a lack of Pin@y representation and visibility, many Americans have a specific trope or stereotype of what a Filipino should be – a stereotype that I am far from. My racial/ethnic identity was always confusing for me growing up because of this notion that I don’t look or am not “really” Pin@y. Representation in the media is needed to show the diversity and identity of Pin@ys. Representation in education  is also essential. I don’t remember learning anything about Pilipin@s in primary school. This helped to confuse me about my identity even further. Because Pin@ys are currently invisible, “Including Filipino and Filipino American history and contributions from a non-Eurocentric perspective would allow many Filipino Americans to free themselves from cultural psychological captivity and form a healthy ethnic identity” (Andresen, 2012, pg. 81). I believe that Eurocentric education helped to make me hurt and confused about my identity as a Filipino, and as a mixed-race person (especially with two non-white parents). I took this Study Abroad trip as a part of my personal journey of decolonization and identity, and I’m coming out of it with a better sense of self and identity/pride as Pin@y.
I am fortunate to have experienced this journey with such an amazing group of folks. I loved experiencing the journey with other Filipino-Americans, so I didn’t have to do it alone. Having non-Filipinos also brought something to the mix to put things into perspective. I appreciated the allyship of the non-Filipinos and their desire to understand us and our journeys, and to form their own journeys and perspectives as well. This made a generally positive dynamic between classmates. I made some genuine friendships on this trip, and learned so much through listening to the stories and experiences of my new friends. Had I done an independent trip alone, I would not have had these experiences.
Our group on one of the last days. Minus Tylor. :(
Last of us left!

Working in my group also went smoothly. Louie, Savannah, Bryan, and I were all on the same page and all shared an enthusiasm about our project on street art culture in the Philippines. It helped that we were all fascinated by the culture and excited to learn more. Everyone respected the spaces we traveled to and the people we interviewed, which was great considering we, as outsiders, may tend not to be so conscientious. We all participated and worked on whatever we did best in. We all prepared questions for the interview, and Monica used her artistic talents to film the interviews, while I took photographs for the project. Bryan put the video together, while the rest of planned a discussion around it. We all chose to talk about different points in our presentation that we were knowledgeable about and interested in. I enjoyed my group, especially because I loved our presentation! I still can’t believe we had the opportunity to put together such a unique and stimulating project.
My time in the Philippines is coming to an end. Although I’m still here, I miss our program, our experiences, and our group. I wish I could still be seeing and living these new experiences with everyone, and I am grateful to have gotten to make this trip and meet everyone. I know this trip has  changed me forever – and I truly believe it’s changes everyone else, too. My decolonization journey is far from over, but this trip is one of the most fundamental things I have done to discover my identity and to decolonize my mind.





Works Cited:
Andresen, T. (2012). Knowledge construction, transformative academic knowledge, and Filipino American identity and experience, In E. Bonus, E. & D. Maramba, (Eds.) The “other“ students: Filipino Americans, education, and power. Charlotte, NC: IAP.
David, E.J.R., & Okazaki, S. (2006). The Colonial Mentality Scale (CMS) for Filipino Americans: Scale construction and psychological implications: A review and recommendation.
Journal of Counseling Psychology 53 (1), pp. 1–16.
Ileto, R.C. (1998). The Philippine-American War, Friendship and Forgetting. In Shaw, A.V. & Francia, L.H. Vestiges of war. (pp. 3-21). New York: New York Press.

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