Pearl of the Orient: First Impressions

Andrew Cain
is a non-Filipino member from the Philippines

“How do you find the Philippines?” is easily among the five questions I'm most frequently asked as a foreigner living in the Philippines. It is a question that Filipinos ask with pride, not with trepidation: pride in hospitality, pride in the beauty of their archipelago home. The answer that I always supply, punctuated with a smile, remarks on those two virtues above all others and how much I appreciate them as an American and as a freelance writer living in the Philippines.



My attitude was not always so open. Over three years ago (2010), I arrived here as a fresh 22 year-old college graduate who had joined the Peace Corps and was subsequently flown half way around the world to the Philippines to volunteer as a high school English teacher. It was my first time in Asia and it was not long before I was baptized with the culture shock of living in a new and foreign country.


American With FilipinosFirst meeting my host family in Iloilo

Five days of orientation followed touchdown in Manila, which consisted of a crash course in culture, language, and procedures for new Peace Corps trainees. It was five days before I was flown to the Western Visayas, flown to the city whose name felt indescribably awkward on my American tongue: Iloilo.


Peace Corps is predicated on community integration; every volunteer lives alone with a host family for the duration of training. My training batch met our host families in a local barangay gymnasium by finding and matching pictures of fruits with our new adopted family. When it was my turn I slowly stood holding up a picture of a banana; it was a direct contrast to my new host dad who sprung up with a smile the size of Mindanao on his face, waving enthusiastically at me. He didn't speak much English, but he was fluent in the language of enthusiasm and friendliness.



Nervousness about the prospect of a new family melted into pure culture shock upon arrival at their house. Before I arrived in the Philippines I had traveled around the Americas and Europe, so I fancied myself worldly. I did not anticipate that overwhelming shell-shocked feeling that is characteristic of culture shock, but it besieged me nonetheless.


My host family was of, at best, limited means. We lived in a barn with three rooms, ten people, and walls that did not reach the steepled ceiling. Americans like doors with locks, tall fences between neighbors, and a private space for refuge-even from their own family. I was not at all prepared for this in-your-face style of family. What appalled me the most was, as per Peace Corps rules, I was granted an entire room to myself. Nearly a third of the living space for one individual in a household of ten. It wasn't the lack of appliances or the abundance of new faces that sat me down on my bed for an hour of quiet reflection and processing. It was the density of familial existence in the Philippines.


American With Filipino Kid

Playing with one of my host cousins in Iloilo

In those first couple of weeks what shaped by initial impressions of Filipinos manifested during a dinner-time conversation I was struggling to understand. In spite of language tutoring in Hiligaynon for four hours a day, learning a totally foreign language is still a cumbersome and awkward process. Prior to dinner I had successfully navigated a jeepney ride to a neighboring barangay in Iloilo: Barangay Molo.


While I was gulping down a delicious soup of chicken dumplings and noodles in seasoned broth, I caught the word “Molo” and heard my family talking about “Molo.” Feeling particularly competent and good about myself for having successfully ridden a jeep and understanding to any small degree what my family was talking about I excitedly interjected “Molo! I've been to Molo! Earlier today.” After the briefest of pauses came the lengthiest period of roaring laughter I think I've ever heard. You see, the soup we were eating, and now one of my favorite Filipino dishes, was pancit molo. They were not talking about Barangay Molo, they were naturally talking about what we were eating. The soup I had just proudly and boldly declared I visited.


Aside from the name of my favorite soup, this taught me that laughter (and food) comes before language in the Philippines. Filipinos value humor and the ability to laugh at themselves, especially with family, above their vanity and pride. This outburst of universal hilarity--and it did feel like the universe was laughing at me--shaped my first impressions of the Philippines: Even though there are language barriers, cultural barriers, and personal barriers Filipinos will seek the small, curious breaches in order to bond and connect with others.

About the author

Andrew Cain

Profession: Writer
Freelance
Philippines , Negros Occidental , Bacolod City

 

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Simon & Garfunkel
is a non-Filipino member from the Philippines
Living in a foreign country is like assembling puzzles. Some pieces take months and years to get assembled. And that's what is the most fun of it.
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