UNTITLED

                               It's a special place for you, and so is it for me.

                               But on the day that we first set foot upon its lush lawns,
                               and smelled the stench of petrichor reeking from its ground,
                               have we ever known?

                               Have we ever known each other's existence,
                               in a parallel world of drawings,
                               of books, and of daydreams?

                               Have we ever known its meaning to the other,
                               a meaning that stands leaning at every corner,
                               written on every sign, sitting under each shed?

                               Have we ever known what is tomorrow,
                               every sunrise that screams of treachery,
                               every sunrise that brought us closer to today?

                               No, never have we known --- because Time has a life of its own.
                               No, never have we known --- because Life has a time of its own.

                               And though it still holds memories that we rather would forget,
                               in the ground still rings a voice that brings you and me back,
                               this time, towards each other.

                               There, in a place
                               where waiting
                               has an end ---
                               Let us meet there. #

HOW TO BE ME PO?

The Internet is too noisy. Sometimes, way more than I can take at bare minimum. 

One of the best things about throwing myself out into a non-English-speaking country in 2015 is that, well, it's 2015. Since I literally did not know anybody when I came here, finding the best way to communicate to people back home is priority. Thanks to the Internet, of course, since I did not have to worry how to relay to my parents really fast should I decide to just get married for permanent residency purposes instead of finishing my studies. Kidding. I won't relay to them if ever. 

Arriving exactly on the first of August, I remember everything to be surreal. Though the jetlag made me feel dreamy and groggy at the same time, I somewhat managed to tell myself to not forget to message the parents once I settle in the dorm. Since local network roaming rates are too expensive and I did not have a chance to get a new SIM right away, finding Internet access was the next best option. The dorm had a University access, but I was not student yet and VPN is required. Thank heavens, really, that my next-door Swiss neighbor apparently leaves his personal WiFi open 24/7 for literally everyone who can get hold of his signal. I cannot thank him enough for that. Though when I think about it now I actually never did. Ooops. Thanks, Oli. :D

Being active in social media was never me. Aside from Blogger, Google+ (which no one uses, really) and FB (which I regularly deactivate), I cannot be found anywhere else on the Internet. But within that same month, instant messaging became my best friend. From Viber to FB to WhatsApp. I ended my year-long hiatus with Blogger, created an Instagram account, utilized YouTube, and tried exploring Twitter. It kept me busy for a while, yes, but over time, it felt a little toxic.

I may be a millenial, but social media suffocates me sometimes. Social media is a powerful tool, I agree, but maybe if used properly. I like reading stories of how viral YouTube videos help crooked people get arrested, how an FB post can raise funds for an important medical treatment, or how powerful Tweets can be to boost your business or promote an important cause. 

Yet apart from inspiring stories, I don't get hashtags. I don't get trending topics. I don't get why I need to jump into some topics and debate about things with people I don't know, about things that won't matter in the next five years. Or maybe if it does, I would have, but not online. 

Or maybe I'm just too old-fashioned. I prefer a more personal approach, one that limits that room for misinterpretation and therefore, miscommunication. That's the irony with the information age, as they say. Communication means are meant to make things way easier, but we get across lesser and lesser. 

Or maybe I'm not too comfortable with the feeling that what we see around our network's posts seem to be a little too "perfect" compared to our real lives. That when I post how bad my day went, I'd be accused of being "reklamador" or "nega." That when I post about my travel pictures and use "#blessed", I'm being a show-off. 

Or maybe I don't really like being followed, telling everyone how my day went and what new things I did. New things I bought. New friends I met. New stuff I ate. Or maybe, I don't like people who don't normally care about me on a daily basis, to care at all. 

"How to be you po?" That must be one of the best pauso of the social media age. A question pretty much asking how to achieve the certain qualities that we so admire with a person --- their beauty, charm, intelligence, strength of character, and maybe even popularity. A critical question, if you think about it --- so long as it does not seek to distort further the ideas of beauty, of intelligence, and of strength that traditional media already had a long time ago. 

The social media age is a revolutionary period of growth for humans. But as much as it has opened doors to new ideas and platforms for learning, I can only wish that we get a hold of and recognize our true selves as we use these tools. "How to be me po?" I don't mind hearing that. Not even with a hashtag. #

PLAYING ASIAN 101

In the Philippines, when people see a tall, white man or woman with hair other than black, we say "Uy, Kanô." Of course, we all know that "Kanô" is a slang for "Amerikano", but its reference spans beyond Americans, really. As long as the person is white, we simply say, "Kanô". It's easier to say, and has a tone that's accessible to the commoner. 

I never really gave much care about how Caucasians or other whites actually feel when Filipinos call them "Kanô" though they're not Americans --- until I stayed a while in Europe, and maybe out of 10 people, 6 call me "Chinese." Not just by Europeans but by people from all parts of the world as well. Apparently for some, all Asians are, yes, Chinese. Yeah, right. First of all, I'm not fair skinned, my eyes are not chinky AT ALL, and my native language doesn't sound a bit like any Chinese dialect. But of course, they won't really know the difference. Funniest thing was when I was walking to the train station when a Chinese girl ACTUALLY spoke to me in Chinese, mistaking me for one. I was staring at her for almost a minute there before I said, "Englisch, bitte." Speaking German to a Chinese. I know that wasn't very courteous of me, but her Mandarin put me into a sudden state of panic. 

Some fellow Asians do distinguish me, but 70% still fail. Top of mind for my look are, in order of frequency: Indonesian, Thai, and Asian. Yes, a generic Southeast Asian. But perhaps one of the best experiences for me perhaps in my stay was the cultural exchange. A lot of my classmates perhaps have heard of the Philippines before, because of the beaches they see in travel articles. Good job, DOT Secretaries. Although since a year ago, things have changed quite dramatically. Instead of beaches, I get a lot of "Asian Trump" or "crazy President" comments from my colleagues and professors. Oh yeah, good job, PDiggy. There are a lot of things to be embarrassed about, if I would be blunt about it. I would not go on glorifying bad habits and people just to protect my reputation as a Filipino. No. One is enough to represent the rest. The point is, wherever you go around the world, you become an ambassador, no matter how small you think your job/study program is. And even when you're merely travelling! It's a big world and people continue to get a hold of the most important commodity today: information. And where best to experience cultural information than from personal exchange? 

Yes, sometimes, you get stared at, looked down at, all those creepy things. I was walking home from the supermarket one time and a 10-year old girl was just staring at me, smiling really happily. For almost 30 seconds, that felt like 2 hours for me. It was uncomfortable, but I was wondering, "Was it the first time she ever saw an Asian??" I'm sure not, because there are a lot of Germany-born Asian-blooded kids I see in the bus every morning. Or maybe she's just what they call here an "Asian killer" --- a European who has a penchant for Asian beauties. Or maybe I just look friendly to her. Creepy.

But there also are times that create opportunities. Sometimes some of my classmates ask me how I am able to distinguish a Chinese from a Japanese from a Korean, and even from a Kyrgyzstani (who of course to me looks more Mongolian, but what do they know about Mongolia except maybe for Genghis Khan). Or a Filipino from a Vietnamese from an Indonesian. Of course, I've been used to Asian faces and languages all my life, so I initially said, I don't know, I just know. But I take these rather as a curious job and really try to explain to them. That Chinese are not double-lidded, that the Vietnamese language sounds more nasal, that Indonesians speak faster than Filipinos, and that Filipinos use Spanish-borrowed words in sentences though not everyone knows Spanish at all. That, and other funny stereotyped explanations. Of course they won't remember all that after the bus ride. But to me it was more of a self-awareness check, and of getting myself amused with the fact that being located in a geography does not just make you familiar with it on an informational level, but rather you actually experience the very facts. Perhaps it's also what Middle Easterns or South Asians get sometimes. I have a Nepalese classmate and he gets a lot of "Indian." Ouch. Worse than mine, I guess.

To end my little anecdote on being an Asian I'd like to end this lightly by leaving you with three things to remember; that is, in case you want to travel to or live in Europe and you're so proud of being Asian (a "Chinese" Asian, that is --- meaning people from the East and Southeast) and you want to easily be identified as one:

1) Always bring your umbrella --- Rain is very seldom this side of the earth, and the thunderstorms they describe in the weather updates are actually just very light rains in the Asian world. But Asians love their umbrellas. So even just a light drizzle --- or flurries (read: lol) --- warrants the use of one. Make sure it's the tri-fold type, by the way. Oh and please wear VERY colorful jackets and winter clothes too. Asians love color. ;)

2) Don't forget to bow --- Asians love bowing, when saying thank you, saying please, saying sorry, even saying hello. And even if Filipinos are more Westernized due to our colonization history, I noticed we still bow, even just with our heads. So don't forget to bow, that looks soooo authentic. 

3) Be very, very polite --- play the "shy type" role. Let people get on the bus before you do. Let them go ahead of you in supermarket cashier queues. Whatever you do, wherever you go, carry that humble air with you. You're Asian. You're anti-conflict. Even if you're Filipino, remember this: You are not your President. ;) #