Noce Buena and Lotto Max: Faith and Hope this Christmas

Filipino Christmas Painting by Paulo Borres (touchtalent.com)

On any Sunday afternoon, take a drive down Isabel Street, Sargent or Ellice Avenues; or stop by Garden City Mall’s Casarap stall at the food court. The Filipino stores and restaurants are full with customers dressed in their Sunday best. The smell of ulam and fresh rice fills the air as The Filipino Channel competes to be heard amidst all the noise. Church has let out and Winnipeg looks ever so Filipino.

Now that Christmas is only 5 days away, where can we find most Filipino-Canadians? Do we do anything unique? Perhaps, we will attend church a few days more. Perhaps, we will make a few more stops at the mall. Maybe, this time of year isn’t all that different. But, take a look around and mentally note where the community hovers. I’ve got to say the lottery kiosk might be the next Filipino stop.

Now, I’m not saying all Filipinos like to gamble. What I’m saying is that with this week’s Lotto Max reaching a record jackpot, there are a lot of us hopeful people eyeing the prize. So, it got me thinking about Noce Buena and Lotto Max – the new slogan for Faith and Hope this yuletide season.

I watch hopeful parents fill out lottery forms with their children strapped into the shopping cart at Superstore. Growing up, it was a treat for us kids to fill out those little circles with numbers. Mom would tell us if we won we’d get any toy we wanted. When we got older, she told us we’d get to visit family in the Philippines. We never actually won any jackpots. But, when I see those lines fill with recent Filipino immigrants, I can still hear my mom’s promises. Oh, the hope that little pencil and that strip of paper creates. I can only imagine the amount of prayers God has already heard for lucky numbers.

So, what might this observation have to do with the Filipino-Canadian community? There’s a cliché going around that immigrants come to Canada searching for a better life. Filipinos are reaching for that mighty dollar that can quadruple the incomes of loved ones still spending in Philippine peso. As true as this may be, the flip side is that earning in dollars means spending in dollars. That imaginary 4 to 1 ratio becomes a 1 to 1 reality that 1, 2, or 3 minimum wage jobs might afford. What happens then to that original immigrant dream? Yup, 5 bucks and a prayer helps bring it back.

Imagine now what so many millions of dollars can do for us here and our family there. I knew if we had won a jackpot like that, I could’ve watched my mom toil a little less for us. That was her migrant reality. Her reality is something I must be grateful for. This Christmas, I hope we can all put our little pencils down and count our new blessings as unexpected as they may be.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Mixed race and mixed identity

Worcester Photographic Collection, courtesy of the Museum of Anthropology, University of Michigan. (http://ocw.mit.edu/)

It was a bit of a surprise to learn that my ancestors were European – let alone of aristocratic stock (see My Mexican, Spanish, Irish ancestry?). I have only known myself as either Filipino or Canadian and, on some days, both. My dad is a very proud Filipino who idealized his impoverished post-war childhood. If there was any sense of him having any European privilege, it was never made known. So I had no idea his mother was raised among the elite and, for whatever reason, left its’ comforts all behind. I do not know very much about her story. Sadly, she passed away before I could get to know her well.

In this post, we will be using my estranged family history to explore the constructs of identity and ‘Filipino-ness’ in Winnipeg. I am sure that there are many of us second generation Filipino-Canadians who know little about our roots and want to learn more. We imagine what it might mean to be ‘Filipino’ in a country that isn’t the Philippines and live through the memories of those who have actually lived there. The Canadian part of us is often questioned by the fact that our parents might not have been born here. So, we have to come to terms with what our identity might be and what preconceptions our race represents. How much of our understanding of race influences the construction of our identity? Does history have anything to say about this?
This post will examine the experiences of Canada’s Red River Métis and the Philippines’ mestizo as a reference to understanding mixed racial identities. It will conclude with a review of my distant cousin’s genealogical website (www.familiasauza.web.com) and his perception of our European ancestry.

Before I examine the mestizo experience in the Philippines, I think it is important to first reference the Métis experience here at home. According to political scientist Samantha Hill (2001), the Métis (descendants of European traders and Aboriginal peoples) were historically discriminated against and failed to gain legal recognition until recently. For centuries they were omitted from legislation as neither racially Indian nor European. Notably still, Canadian authorities refused to recognize the Métis people as a nation with their own territory and system of governance. By the late 19th century, Red River Métis lands were confiscated without compensation to make way for European settlers. As Indigenous peoples were moved to reserves, the Métis were left landless and displaced. Hill argues that the Métis identity subsequently descended from a nation to a race (Hill, p.48). In other words, the Métis nation was colonized to fit racial definitions undefined by them, but by the new Canadian government.

The Philippines’ mestizo experience begins in the 17th century when Spanish voyagers and missionaries arrived on the islands to both conquer and convert. They fathered children with local women to add a European mix to an already racially diverse population. For centuries, the Philippine islands were an outpost for indigenous, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, Hindu and Muslim traders. The children of these unions with the local peoples fall under the umbrella term today as ‘mestizo’ or ‘mixed’ in Spanish. To have mixed Spanish blood specifically according to political scientist Hazel M. Mcferson (2002), meant a spot on the Spanish colonial apex. The fair-skinned mestizo ranked well above the Indio (the darker skinned indigenous peoples) and below the Spaniards born in Spain and the Filipino creole (Spaniard born on the islands). This hierarchy is still felt today well after Philippine Independence from the Spanish in 1898.The same privilege and wealth of those days past remain with few mestizo clans.

We can see that the experience in Canada and the Philippines is similar, but different. They both share a European connection. However, they differ in terms of their relationship with their European lineage. Canada’s Metis were not accepted as an independent people by Canada’s early full-blooded European leaders. The Philippines’ Spanish Mestizo however, was accepted as a member of Mother Spain (to varying degrees of course) that he/she was more than willing to comply to. This leads us here finally to my estranged family tree and the seemingly unyielding desire to appear more European than Filipino.

The Sauza-Berenguer de Marquina Official Website is written by my distant cousin and family historian, Prince Victor Salamat. He claims to also be known by his German and Irish name, Prince Heinrich Fitzgerald. The site conveys a strong sense of pride in my family’s aristocratic heritage. The reasons for this, we may argue, are of the assumptions associated with our Spanish lineage – that we are well-to-do, educated, and of worldly historical significance. A scan through the site will source relations to Charlemagne, John Fitzgerald Kennedy (yes, that Kennedy), and former Philippine President Corazon Aquino. No data or historical documents are provided to substantiate these claims. There are only mentions in the welcome message of oral histories passed on between generations. I am not writing this blog to support or refute what information is found on the site (maybe in a later post). However, it is worth noting that the site’s overall tone is telling of Filipino perceptions of identity – the more European the better.

So, what does all this mean for the construct of identity and ‘Filipino-ness’ in Winnipeg?

I want to underline the fact that Canadian identity itself in Winnipeg is already tenuous. The Red River Métis and their early claim to what is now Winnipeg never gained formal recognition by the early leaders of today’s Canadian government. There is an underlining urgency today to exert what it means to be an independent Métis. For Filipino-Canadians in Winnipeg, we must add another layer. Before arriving as immigrants to Canada, Filipinos must recall their own historical racial biases. To be fair-skinned, well off, and of Spanish descent in the Philippines means to be closer to resembling (colonial) authority. To come to a settler country like Canada may mean that a mestizo Filipino would expect a lateral change from the racially hierarchical society they left in the Philippines. In other words, being of European descent in the Philippines facilitates upward mobility. But, in Canada, this is not necessarily the case. There is a conflict between Philippine perceptions and Canadian realities when it comes to the construction of ‘Filipino-ness’ in Winnipeg. There is no clear historic advantage to being of mixed European descent here. Perhaps, this is why I don’t share the same overwhelming pro-mestizo sentiment found on my distant cousin’s website. Is this part of what it means for me to be ‘Filipino’ in Winnipeg?

Being Filipino and Canadian really is as complicated as I thought.

Sources:

Hazel M. McFerson. (2002) “Filpino Self Identity and Self-Image in Historical Perspective” in H.M. McFerson, ed. Mixed Blessing: The Impact of the American Colonial Experience on Politics and Society in the Philippines. Westport: Greenwood Press. pp. 13-42.

Samantha Hill. (2001) Race and nation building: a comparison of Canadian Metis and Mexican Mestizos. Masters of Arts Thesis. University of British Columbia. https://circle.ubc.ca/handle/2429/11311  (cited 23 September 2013).

The experiences of Filipino-Canadian youth.

Published in Winnipeg Free Press as “Filipino? Canadian? Striking a Balance” 3/3/2012

Our heritage runs deep in Winnipeg. We are the children (both adopted and naturally-born) of the Filipino-Canadian community’s early pioneers – the nurses, doctors, and garment industry recruits. Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, you couldn’t miss us. We were springing up in the North and West Ends especially, as the first wave of Filipino-Canadian children. We spoke flawless English, and depending on the schools we attended, we also spoke French.  We sprinkled our vocabulary with the Filipino dialects we heard at home – Tagalog, Ilocano, Visaya, Kapampangan, Ilongo, or Pangasinan (the list goes on). We also picked up the language of our neighbourhoods. For a North End girl like me, this meant celebrating the blend of Ukranian, Polish, Portuguese, German, Ojibwe and Cree that greeted me from the corner store where I bought my candy to the playground where I shared them. We were Canadian kids with young and hopeful Filipino-Canadian roots in Winnipeg. 

As a kid, I was oblivious to the struggles our young immigrant community faced. We were growing up at a time when the industries that employed our parents were being outsourced overseas. It was also a time when dialog was limited and misunderstandings were rampant. Filipino-Canadian concerns over unemployment, under-employment, discrimination, and racism were what surfaced onto the mainstream media. Within Filipino-Canadian households, parents also faced a new fear. They saw their children slipping away into a culture they could not relate to. Their Canadian kid with the Filipino skin and assertive mind hardly resembled the disciplined and pious youth they enjoyed when reminiscing of the Philippines. For a Filipino-Canadian kid, this was often the confusing introduction to the homeland they hardly knew. Yet, because their physical features betrayed them as Canadians, Filipino-Canadian kids had little choice but to face what being Filipino in Winnipeg actually meant.

As the decades progressed and immigration initiatives, like the Manitoba Provincial Nominee Program, began to take place throughout the 1990s and 2000s, we Filipino-Canadian youth broadened in diversity. The second-hand memory of being ‘Filipino’ in Winnipeg was beginning to compliment a new reality as more young people arrived with fresh, actual Filipino experiences from the Philippines. This time, the language of being Filipino-Canadian involved a fluency and fluidity between their Filipino dialect and American English. This new wave of Filipino-Canadians arrived as confident Filipinos at the cost of being reluctant Canadians. These were the kids with little say in what brought them and their family to Winnipeg. They were now here to adjust without the only extended family and friends they knew. Suddenly, the better life they were promised appeared empty amidst the fear, anger, uncertainty, and resentment that weighed on their minds. Day by day, with each new friend and experience, the Canadian in this Filipino-Canadian emerges. If the proper supports are in place and the time is right, both cultural identities will eventually grow to embrace one another.

The interaction between Canadian-born and immigrant Filipino-Canadian youth is an interesting reflection of how we perceive ourselves. That hyphenate between those two identities, the Filipino and the Canadian, should actually look more like a see-saw. One cultural identity is weighted against the other as our feelings of acceptance change with each relationship in our communities and our society.