Excerpt from Sandok: A Filipino-Canadian Oral History Cookbook

The following is an excerpt from ANAK Publishing’s latest oral history publication, Sandok: A Filipino-Canadian Oral History Cookbook. The book features the personal narratives of five Winnipeg restauranteurs and their connection to Filipino-Canadian culture and cuisine. This book is written and researched by Ma. Monica de Castro and Kezia Malabanan-Abueg. 

Visit anakbooks.ca for your copy!

Relevance of learning and understanding the history of Filipino cuisine

What is Filipino food? In developing this book, we realize that there is no real answer to this question. Instead, we have come to learn that Filipino food encompasses differing experiences in Winnipeg. One informant, Victoria David, sums up the Filipino food experience this way:

The [Filipino] food that’s being served needs to be explained. For example, when you first introduce a dish to someone, you have to explain the kind of food it is and the ingredients it needs… You have to know your food… That’s important.

In the process of explaining, one will inherently reflect on the broader culture, values, and history the dish evolved from. We have learned that food culture may be a readily distinguished portal to understanding a particular ethnocultural group. Moreover, an explanation gives guests permission to customize the dish to their liking.

The Filipino concept of sawsawan (dipping sauce) is not just a dipping sauce. When we think about sawsawan, we associate it with patis, bagoong, toyo (soy sauce), and suka (vinegar). A chef inviting his diners to add sawsawan to his/her meal is an act of involving them in the process of food preparation. This cultural act differs from other cultures wherein adding seasoning or condiments to dishes is deemed insulting. However, for Filipinos, it is a sign of a communal relationship that is ubiquitous to general Filipino culture. It shows tolerance for differing opinions whether it agrees or disagrees with the chef. It shows how individuals pick and choose what he/she likes (and does not like). It shows how personal preferences can still work in creating something harmoniously amazing.

In relation to Nakpil’s quote at the beginning of this chapter, Filipinos remain a Filipino (at least) gastronomically, but Filipino food culture is something beyond that. As long as preparation, cooking, and dining practices are observed, and as long as values are continually reflected upon (consciously or unconsciously) when explaining Filipino food to youngsters and non-Filipinos, then being Filipino is more than just a gastronomical attachment. Food culture is a convenient way to reflect on one’s own “Filipino-ness.”

As Filipino-Canadians ourselves, there is value on the communality that we express whenever we sit down to share and eat our food. There is value in the meanings we infer and confer on the food we set on our tables. There is value on the cultural factors that shape our cuisine. And now that many of us are “Global Filipinos,” there is value on how we can constantly (de-/re-) construct our identities and make sense of the world based not only by the food we put into our mouths, but also its process and meaning.

Tito Jim and Tita Imelda (Jimel’s)

Tita Lourdes (Pampanga)                         Lola Linda (Gelyn’s)

Tito Julio (Myrna’s)

Monica with Tita Vivian (Juvian’s)

The Harana and the Ultimate Playlist

There are plenty of good singers in the Filipino community. There is no doubt about that. But how many can we say have used their talent entirely for love? How many have perfected a song to fill one’s heart with the idea of (dare I say) “forever”? What playlist could they possibly choose from?

Long before Spotify, facebook, Twitter, and even SMS text messaging, young Filipino men proclaimed their romantic intentions in a song. He waited until night to stand below his crush’s window with a guitar (or among his musician friends) for her and her household to hear his serenade or harana.

Sylvia La Torre’s No Money No Honey (1956)
One way to reject a suitor!

The art of the Philippine serenade or harana was once commonplace throughout the provinces. From the 1900s and into the 1970s, serenaders or haranistasfollowed known courtship codes and protocols through Tagalog, Spanish, and later English ballads. Nothing was kept secret. The entire “dating” process (as we might call it today) was an actual social event.


Imagine watching the young man risking all his effort to call for the lady at her window. You might cheer for him or you might laugh at him, but nevertheless you join in on the idle tsismis (gossip). He sings Natutulog Ka Na Ba, Sinta? (Are you asleep, my love?) to make his presence known, but she doesn’t appear to come to her window. The first stage, the Panawagan (Announcement), has begun and he may go on singing until the sunrise beckons him home.

With some tenacity, he may eventually see her window open to capture her approving smile. He’s made it to the next round!  He continues to prove to her (and her conservative family) with gifts and songs that he’d like to be invited in. When the day that invitation comes, everyone is there to see him sing of his love’s beauty and virtue. The Pagtatapat (Proposal) stage is meant to gain the approval of her entire family. He sings Kung Ika’y May Alinlangan (If You Ever Doubt Me) just to get his point across.

Finally, she sings from her own playlist to publicly accept or reject him. The Panagutan(Response) could easily turn into a romantic duet or an unfortunate end. If she’s unsure (and feeling sorry for the guy), she might sing “Ang tangi kong pagibigay minsan lamang” (True love for me is rare). Or, she might give in and accept his proposal with the line “O kay sarap mabuhay, lalo na’t may lambingan” (Oh how sweet it is to live, more so in the presence of love and affection) from the ballad, Maala-ala Mo Kaya. She might outright reject him just for him to sing Pusong Wasak (Shredded Heart) or the melodramatic Laot Ng Dusa (Open Sea of Suffering). The Harana comes to an end as the inevitable Pamaalam (Farewell) stage arrives.

Now, go grab your iPhone and glance at your playlist now. Scroll past all that bump and grind garbage and bitter breakup music. Look for the meaning in those coded lyrics of today. Do they spark the thought of a different kind of love, a romance? Do they invoke your own need to declare your heart’s wish? If so, take that ballad and practice. Upload it, share it, and send it for all to see. Let your inner Haranistasing.

Sources:

Florante Aguilar and Benito Bautista. Harana: The Search for the Lost Art of Serenade. 2010. (Cited 26/1/16).

Bella Ellwood-Clayton. “All we need is love- and a mobile phone: texting in the Philippines,” Cultural Space and Public Sphere in Asia. 2006.

Inspiring Filipino-Canadian Oral History: Rap me a story

Hip hop is said to be an amalgamation of many artistic forms. Its roots lie within a subculture of celebrated marginalism in New York’s South Bronx and Harlem in the 1970s. It has since grown to an amazing network of barrios, barangays, and bantustans the world over. Hip hop is universal with or without a colour to whatever beat.

In Canada, it is no surprise then that Hip Hop would take root among today’s Filipino-Canadian communities to create a narrative and a sound all its own. The uniqueness of immigration, separation, regionalism, cultural confusion and economic struggle from the Filipino perspective is an honest and edgy offering of oral history neither a museum nor academic can portray.

In this blog post, I will introduce two Filipino-Canadian artists who employ hip hop as their medium: Han Han of Toronto and Nereo II of Winnipeg. Both offer much inspiration to our emerging generation.

Research from the Filipino Youth Transitions in Canada project from 2010-2014 reveals that Toronto and Winnipeg are two very different places when it comes to the makeup of Filipino-Canadian communities. Toronto has the larger Filipino-Canadian population in Canada. However, they are spread out throughout the vast Greater Toronto Area in separate community fiefdoms divided by socio-economic status and geography. In Winnipeg, the community is concentrated primarily  in the North West corner where cultural connections appear more congruent and accessible.

Toronto’s population stems from the growth of the Live-in Caregiver Program and the numbers of Filipina domestic workers who came to Canada through this initiative. Winnipeg’s Filipino-Canadian community is rooted in early immigration from the 1960s and beyond as medical professionals, garment workers, family sponsors, and Manitoba Provincial Nominee Program applicants. The study concludes that Winnipeg’s sense of pride in its Filipino-Community creates successful young people who will move beyond their parents’ own educational attainment and into higher level careers.

So, what does this study have to do with hip hop?

I would like to argue that the fabric of each city creates a differing narrative for each community. Dare I say, a differing sound as well.

Han Han is an immigrant nurse who uses her flawless Tagalog, English, and Cebuano to tell a tale of struggle towards a new life and a new identity and a renewed maturity of self-identity again. Her song, World Gong Crazy featuring Datu, is a fusion of funk and hip hop with the Philippine tribal kulintaw (a rhythm Winnipeg is likely to hear only at Folklorama time). There is a sounding desire to remain fused to the West, but authentic to the Southeast. I sense the separation but the community of the rhythms. I find this symbolic of her inflection and reflection from both the Filipino and Canadian worlds in her immigrant struggle.

Nereo II is an artist that inspires selfless self-expression. His TEDxYouth talk underlines his own personal revelation to be true to his talents as an artist. Although his talk is not overtly about being Filipino-Canadian, I can sense themes from his upbringing as a second-generation Canadian. His retrospective as a rebellious young man and his burning wish to depart from conforming, building wealth, and working in a secure, but unfulfilling career is a testament to our parents’ generation as pioneering immigrants. This rebellion would be incomprehensible to them because being accepted as Canadians with a financially secure position in society was perhaps but a dream to them as they arrived. The narrative is as Filipino as it is Canadian. This is how immersed both realities are with one another.

How else do you express such complex transitions between past generations to the next generation?

The answer I have to say is the relevance of the messenger and his/her interaction with the medium. Today, our messengers make sense of hip hop to relay a message we need to understand.

Sources:

Robert Bolton. “Filipina-Canadian Nurse Raps Her Immigrant Experience” Huffington Post Music The Blog. 9/3/2014 http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/robert-bolton/filipina-rap_b_5756090.html (cited 6/9/2014)

Filipino Youth Transitions in Canada Project http://ycar.apps01.yorku.ca/research/programmes-projects/filipino-youth-transitions-in-canada/

TEDxYouth Fort Garry <http://www.ted.com/tedx/events/5719> (cited 9/6/2014)

Ukay ukay and disposed Philippine art

Manila Souvenir ‘Calesa’ for under 10 bucks

I found Jollibee at the Salvation Army. There he was sitting with all the dejected stuffed animals that once had a home. He was 99 cents. So, I adopted him and put him into my basket.

Days later, little Jollibee made his debut at Folklorama. He was our unofficial mascot as we sold our books. People came by and recognized him. Some reminisced about the Philippines at the sight of him. A point and a smile was enough to know that they once frequented the popular fast food chain that still shares his name.

“Where did you get Jollibee?!” one person asked.
“At Salvation Army,” we answered.
“Why would someone throw him away?!”

‘Pandango sa ilaw’ wood carving for $7

As a new homeowner with a knack for Asian art, my house is coming to look like a “zen-chinoiserie-1970s Philippines” mishmash of “stuff.” I must say that I don’t mind it. Each week I try to frequent local consignment shops in heavily populated Filipino areas. It’s there I find the intricate rattan woven furniture, ethnic wood carvings, and delicate textiles that now randomly adorn my home. It’s hard to believe someone had gotten rid of these things after all the effort it must have taken to bring them here in the first place.



Wood carving. Filipina on kalabaw (as a pair for less than $15)

In the Philippines, thrift shopping is a popular past time as well. Ukay ukay (as Filipinos call it) is quite a lucrative business there. Mounds and mounds of donated goods from developed nations find their way into the small street side markets where original (but used) brand names like Nike, Calvin Klein, Levi’s, and Guess are hunted for. The real thing is a prized departure from the other countless counterfeit items vendors also try to sell. Over there ukay ukay isn’t always about shopping for a bargain, but finding a small symbol of superficial western wealth.



Igorot (as a pair about $10)

In Canada, ukay ukay takes on a similar but different experience. Sure, everyone is on the hunt for bargains. Brand name jeans, dresses, and shoes are always popular finds for the right price. But, as I wander  amidst the multilingual chitter chatter of customers, I also bump into those on the prowl for  unique items like that gaudy hat or that tacky sweater. We have special tastes. I’m always overjoyed if a good day fills my cart with those tacky Philippine souvenirs (an igorot carving, a Manila calesa, and other Maria Clara inspired clothing to name a few). As I walk around with my basket full, I know other Filipinos take a look at my finds. They often give me a grin and an approving nod as if I’ve saved them from some unfortunate demise.

Maybe, it’s a silent way of saying we’re hunting for our own wealth of Philippine symbols.

Bentwood chair for $8.99 ( I left the tag on because no one will believe me)





Stories from the ethnic food aisle

When white bread just isn’t white bread – it’s Pinoy Tasty!

I’m not really a cook, but I’ve been known to dabble. Like any novice Filipino-Canadian cook trying to satisfy a craving for home cooking, I know my staples. I can cook rice (measured the Filipino way with the finger and not with a measuring cup). I can cook sinigang, adobo, kare-kare, and various forms of nilaga. In the morning, I know my silogs and my tsamporado. Whether it’s anything tasty or authentic I leave that for you to judge. All my life, shopping at the ethnic food aisle and the ethnic food store has been a regular part of my weekends since childhood. It’s dawning on me now how rich these places are for an oral history intervention.

Two of the artifacts coming out of Pananaw were groupings of Filipino candy (Choc nut, Cloud 9, and Maxx) and Filipino snacks (Boy Bawang, Chippy). While the former include the rich, chalky chocolate taste and sweetness of lemon drops, the latter explore all the goodness garlicky, salt and MSG can offer. In the oral history exercise, the group to receive the Filipino candy artifacts described their connection with the candy as part of their childhood memories. The student, a very recent arrival to Canada, explained how her grandparents used to “bribe” her with them. She told the story with a smile and we listened equally with the same grin. The Filipino snack group chose not to personalize their artifacts and instead described them in general terms. They noted the ingredients and that the artifact was manufactured in the Philippines. Perhaps, as 1.5 generation Filipino-Canadians, this group’s childhood memories of the Philippines were too distant to recall. It could have been merely a Filpino-Canadian snack to them and that was all they had to relate to. They perceived the snacks with the same ambivalence as any other passer-by in the store would. I guess the point worth making is that we connect to things in varying ways. I would like to argue that the ethnic food aisle is a rich place to understand how different these ways can be.

Over the years, working with immigrants and having hosted a few in my own home, I have become keenly aware of their discerning taste buds. Choosing the right ingredients, the most authentic ones, is what brings them back to what they know. I’ve learned this because I’ve substituted ingredients in my cooking to an array of comments, some good and some bad. Japanese Kikoman soy sauce instead of Pina Filipino soy sauce in adobo and apples instead of raisins in afritadacan raise a few Filipino eyebrows (Don’t even get me started on substituting white rice with brown rice!). There are certain things that Filipinos hold dear before they can consider themselves Filipino-Canadian, the taste of home is just one of them. Yet for my mom, a master cook and a queen in ingredient substitution, I have to say she always maintains the right taste. Everyone I know revels at her beef empanada, lomi pansit, nilugaw, to name a few. Despite the fact that over the years she’s added her touches (to reap the health benefits no less) of cinnamon, apple cider vinegar, and garlic, I swear her food is still deliciously Filipino.  The funny thing is she tells me she never learned to cook until she arrived in Canada over 30 years ago. So, her connection with the ethnic food aisle is something entirely Canadian (I dare say).

Next time you venture down the ethnic food aisle, stop and take in the reaction of its patrons. Do they get excited at the sight of an item? Do they marvel that some snack or ingredient is actually here in Winnipeg? Or, do they look through the aisle with suspicion? Maybe, they’re there searching in the aisle because of someone’s suggestion? Whatever they may be doing, think of it as a connection to a “thing” and their life beyond the kitchen table.

Remembering Mandela through our own histories

Nelson Mandela (Source: Freedomarchives.org)

Nelson Mandela passed away yesterday at 95 years. He will be remembered as the “Father of South Africa” and a model for peace and moral leadership. No doubt, the world will miss him. He was the only living icon to embody a nation in sacrifice, hope, and reconciliation. In this blog post, I would like to reflect on what his passing might mean for us Filipino-Canadians. I would like to take a brief look into our shared colonial histories and our enduring legacy for identity and freedom. After a brief overview of Mandela’s life, I will then explore historic parallels between South Africa, the Philippines, and Canada.

Rolihlahla Mandela was born in 1918 in the village of Mvezo. He acquired his Christian name “Nelson” later in childhood (as was the custom). As a young adult, he helped transform the African National Congress (ANC) into a new revolutionary form. In 1960, soon after the Sharpeville Massacre, he formed its militarist sect. South Africa’s white minority government then outlawed the ANC. Mandela was targeted for his “subversive” leadership. In 1964, he was sentenced to life in prison. Fast forward 26 years to 1990, Mandela was finally freed. He became South Africa’s first black president only 4 years later. He governed towards unity and peace – a message he shared equally between blacks and whites.

Nuns pray in front of soldiers in EDSA (25 February 1986) (Source theblacktwig.wordpress.com)

Mandela’s death strikes a strong chord for Filipinos with personal connections to the Philippines’ own recent revolutionary movement. As Mandela endured 26 years in captivity, Filipinos may also remember the 9 years they lived under Martial Law (1972-1981). They may also recall the tumultuous decades when President Ferdinand Marcos held office from 1965 to 1986. Unemployment, violence, political strife were rampant and freedoms were repressed. By 1983, upon the sudden death of Marcos’ political opponent Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino, tensions had boiled over for the people to take matters into their own hands. The People Power movement demanded the proper reinstatement of democracy. In 1986, at the culmination of this movement, Ninoy’s widow, Cory Aquino, was elected President. To this, their son and current Philippine President, Benigno “Noynoy” Aquino Jr., commented today on the relationship his late mother had with Mandela. He states:

On a more personal note, I recall with gratitude and humility the kind words he told me during his visit to the Philippines when I was still a Representative. He told me then, “You chose your parents well.” My mother admired him; like all of us, she would have been deeply saddened by his passing.

Idle No More poster (source idlenomore.ca

In Canada, Mandela’s passing represents an unfinished plight for first nations peoples. It is in fact Canada’s tutelage on the “Indian problem” that Afrikaaner leaders implemented apartheid in South Africa throughout the 1940s and 1950s. There are parallels between South Africa’s bantustans and Canada’s Indian reserves. Despite numerous ammendments, Canada’s Indian Act still prescribes to its original 1859 form. Under the Act, Indigenous peoples were to be governed separate from the white Canadian populace under a different set of racially motivated laws. Their ethnic status and citizenship; income and employment; as well as values and homesteads were to be defined by the ruling government. To segregate and isolate, limit and control the freedoms of Canada’s indigenous peoples soon yielded the term “apartheid” for South Africa as a means of governing blacks. Mandela is now revered for helping end those days. He stood against apartheid and won. In Canada however, we are still grappling to understand what the treaties or the Indian Act actually means to us all – whether we are Aboriginal or not.

So, what parallels can Filipino-Canadians draw from these snapshots in history? We will see Mandela in the many tributes to come in differing images from youthful and fiery to elderly and wise. His near century of living will remind us of difficult times in both our Filipino and Canadian histories. Perhaps, we can recall a youthful Mandela oranizing against apartheid when we hear of the next Idle No More gathering in Winnipeg. Or, we can imagine a triumphant free Mandela when we celebrate the anniversary of the Philippines’ People Power movement. We can choose to remember his will to empower and his tenacity to struggle in the same ways our histories as Filipinos and Canadians teach us. I hope we will be wise enough to listen.

Sources

Benigno Aquino Jr. (6 December 2013) “Statement of President Aquino on the passing of Nelson Mandela” <http://www.gov.ph/2013/12/06/statement-of-president-aquino-on-the-passing-of-nelson-mandela-december-6-2013/>

Faith Karimi. (5 December 2013) “Nelson Mandela, anti-apartheid icon and father of modern South Africa, dies.” CNN http://www.cnn.com/2013/12/05/world/africa/nelson-mandela/

Maria-Carolina Cambre “Terminologies of Control: Tracing the Canadian-South African Connection in a Word” Politikon (April 2007) 34.1: 19-34.

Honouring A Pioneer

Oral history book features Dr. Jose Belmonte

REVIEW
Published in Pilipino Express (September 1-15, 2012)

WINNIPEG – When Dr. Jose Belmonte came to Canada in November 1956 the Filipino immigrant population was so small that the government had no record of their number. He started his new life as a young medical intern in Sudbury, Ontario but he would later settle in Winnipeg where he took a job as an anaesthesiologist at Victoria Hospital in 1962. Fifty years later, Dr. Belmonte’s experience as one of the earliest Filipino-Canadians is featured in the new book entitled From Manila to Manitoba: Filipino-Canadian Oral History Series Volume 1, Winnipeg’s Health Professionals (c.1950-1970) by Darlyne Bautista.

Three years in the making, the book is the first in a series of five to come from the oral history project of the youth group Aksyon Ng Ating Kabataan (ANAK), which began documenting the experiences of ordinary Filipino-Canadians in 2009 through recorded interviews. Twenty-five of those interviews were featured in the exhibit From Manila to Manitoba at the Manitoba Museum in 2010.

Not just a biography

While first-generation Filipino-Canadians will certainly enjoy reading about Dr. Belmonte’s memories in the book, it is no “mere biography,” as stated in the introduction. There is also plenty of background information to aid all readers in understanding the circumstances that converged – both in the Philippines and in Canada – to bring Dr. Belmonte and so many other Filipinos to this country.

 

“I wanted to show how comprehensive oral histories can be – as opposed to the popular understanding of oral history as biography, Bautista told Pilipino Express.”

 

To that end, Belmonte’s selected anecdotes and comments serve as introductions to deeper examinations of such varied topics as the history of the elite class in the Philippines, the padrino culture of patrons and clients in Philippine society and politics, and even the birth of Canada’s public health care system.

Bautista’s approach not only provides a series of brief history lessons but it also helps to clarify Belmonte’s story for readers who did not grow up in the Philippines. For instance, one could easily miss the full import of Belmonte’s comment, “but my dad never got involved in politics,” but to most Filipinos, the meaning is clear: being a “non-political” professional in the Philippines is a career killer and therefore emigration is an attractive option. The comment thus becomes the starting point for a chapter on politics and opportunity in post-war Philippines. This combination of reminiscences and historical research makes From Manila to Manitoba a valuable work that scholars will consult for decades to come.

Four more volumes in the series will be published but a definite timeline for their release has not yet been set. “I want to be sure I honour all of the informants properly,” said Bautista.

 

A second-generation Filipina-Canadian, Darlyne Bautista holds a BA (Honours) in History and International Development from the University of Winnipeg and an MA in Southeast Asian Studies from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. She is also a school trustee in the Winnipeg School Division, Ward 3 and a founding member of ANAK.

 

From Manila to Manitoba Volume 1 featuring Dr. Jose Belmonte is available for order through the anakbooks.ca web site or by writing to info@anak.ca This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it . All purchases through anakbooks.ca help to support ANAK programming.

Manitoba’s First Filipino Street Festival

http://www.cbc.ca/video/swf/UberPlayer.swf?state=sharevideo&clipId=2272514937&width=480&height=322

 

Source: CBC News. Manitoba’s First Filipino Street Festival. August 25, 2012.

 

On Saturday, August 25, Winnipeg played host to Manitoba’s first Filipino Street Festival. The celebration was organized by over 37 groups from the city and as far as Russell, Manitoba. Each organization represented a wide array of Philippine diversity – from regional organizations, business, the arts and culture. I was amazed to see the live music that comprised the lengthy parade around Garden City mall as well as the costumes, floats, and talent. I felt like it was either nearing fiesta time, holy week or Christmas at one of the local SM malls littered throughout the Philippines.

 

It was a big accomplishment for the community. And, as the above CBC piece attests, it is testament to Winnipeg’s large, established Filipino-Canadian presence. Setting aside the cliche comments about immigrant reactions to snow and the ‘I want to go home’ soundbites, there appears to be an urgency among our elders for the ‘second-hand’ generation of Filipino-Canadians to gain ‘first-hand’ experiences as ‘Filipinos’.

 



Winnipeg’s Angono community with their traditional parehadoras and higantes during the parade

Days before the festival, I was contacted by CBC Radio for my thoughts on the loss of identity and culture among our generation – a concern that was underlined by the organizers of the event. I agreed to be interviewed with hopes of sharing a new perspective of our evolving identity and culture here as Canadians – that perhaps the situation was hardly dire. What ensued within a snipet of the following morning show interview was one awkward conversation (click if you care to cringe with me).  There appears to be a definitive ‘black or white’ understanding of culture themed through the festival. However, I want to peel back the layers of perspectives. Let’s stop to really think.

Winnipeg’s Aklan Association and their colorful Ati-Atihan tradition in honour of Sto. Nino.

For recent immigrants, the urgent need to pass on a sense of ‘culture’ is the act of finding hands-on experiences in tradition. For example, for me, it means knowing I am from Angono; I am Tagalog; and I can march alongside the higantes come Fiesta time each November (which is what I have grown up doing all my life in Winnipeg). For those established Filipinos who have spent decades-upon-decades away from the Philippines, it means holding onto a memory of a certain past – of home. For the youth, it means defining what Filipino is as a Canadian. With all the different regional groups re-enacting their own collective memories of ‘home’ and establishing their legacies for the future, this parade was as Canadian as it gets. It was a show of our real diversity – showcased and organized by the very peoples of the Philippines that lived, breathed, and experienced the varying languages, regionalisms, landscapes, and traditions. (Take that Folklorama). It means being multicultural in multicultural Canada.

 

So, I’m not quite sure what the DJ was trying to get at during my interview. We are Filipinos and Canadians and we live and celebrate our lives in beautiful shades of grey. I’m certain each generation knows this. It just comes out in our one of many ways.





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.

Review – Beyond greener pastures: exploring contexts surrounding Filipino nurse migration in Canada through oral history

Charlene Ronquillo,a Geertje Boschma, Sabrina T Wonga, and Linda Quiney, “Beyond greener pastures: exploring contexts surrounding Filipino nurse migration in Canada through oral history” Nursing Inquiry 2011; 18(3): 262–27.


Scholarship on Filipino-Canadian history is overwhelmingly represented through the experiences of domestic workers (Live-In Caregivers), underemployed professionals and their children almost always through a Toronto-centric perspective. These authors are rarely ever of Filipino heritage, but quick to underline the economic motivators that urge Filipinos to choose a `better life` in Canada. Exploitation, victimization, deskilling and family separation are prominent themes that describe the Filipino experience in Canada. But, is there something more we’re not discussing? In `Beyond Greener Pastures`, a 2011 article from 3 BC scholars (one  is a Filipina-Canadian nurse), it appears there may be.

Through the oral histories of 9 Filipino nurses from BC and Alberta who migrated from 1974 to 2005, the article investigates non-economic factors that affected their decisions to migrate. Simply, ‘[it] argue[s] that the popularity of immigration for Filipino nurses is not driven solely by economic motives but is also fueled by cultural pressures, the desire for status and an internalized desire to migrate.’ (p.263). Implementing oral history methods, the authors describe how life histories expose the experiences of under-represented communities in Canada albeit through the researcher’s interpretation (and not that of the informant).

They arrive at their thesis by piecing together a range of mentioned motivations to migrate as ‘few interviewees were able to articulate specifically the motivations behind their desire to leave the country’ (p.266). Cultural norms such as ‘obedience and obligation to family’ they argue heavily outweigh ‘the sense of freedom and personal choice in determining career paths’. (p.266) The nursing profession provided informant’s families a sense of prestige, employment and opportunity in the Philippines. They are right to underline that an economic message still resonates in their life histories.

For myself, I feel that I have entered oral history research in the same manner the Filipino author has – in disbelief of the lack of Filipino-Canadian research. She notes that as the sole interviewer, she was able to create an instant connection with her informants. I concur with her goals to create this relationship in research. I am also thrilled that oral histories are being collected and shared among our community in the West. The greater number of stories told will help dispel simplified assumptions of Filipino-Canadian histories across Canada (ie. third-world dissidents, subservient). Instead, the diverse stories across Canada will be told, heard, and drawn into lessons (ie. workers, professionals, children, we are Canadian). The authors urge scholars to consider delving further into this realm of research. I, of course, wish to share in this message.

For students, who wish to reference this work, I would only caution against the article’s over-simplification of the nurse-migration experience from the Philippines. For the 9 informants, the range in time in migration (from 1974 to 2005) I find is too broad. Labour migration policies in the Philippines were hardly stagnant from the time of its inception in the mid 1970s. Its entrenchment into the ‘culture of migration’ (p.266) they mention has much to do with the efforts of several successive Philippine governments, international bodies, and recipient countries (like Canada and its provinces). The article mentions the celebration of nurses specifically as ‘national heroes’ for their efforts to remit funds and thereby replenish depleted coffers (p.267). The bagong bayani (new heroes) slogan actually began in the 1990s by President Fidel Ramos to celebrate all OFWs (Overseas Filipino Workers) for their contributions to the economy. Nevertheless, we see how nurses and OFWs shift in public perception from being mere migrant workers to new heroes in a matter of decades.

The implications of understanding the ease and incessant ‘need’ to go abroad marks the differing factors informants might have chose to leave. Why family urge their children to study nursing and go abroad, I am sure was not an inherent and timeless cultural motivator, but one that evolved as the Filipino diaspora grew, remittances replenished family bank accounts, and advertisements and nursing schools multiplied (private schools especially) to the point that such desires were inescapable. I feel the authors lumped the experiences of their informants together by omitting any details of the social and political climate found in the differing times of their departure. Perhaps, if this information were made available we would be able to interpret the agency of the informants for ourselves. The choice to obey and support family may be rooted in more than culture.

When we consider future Filipino-Canadian research, I say let’s delve deeper than economic factors and Filipino filial piety too.

See also: 
Charlene Esteban Ronquillo. Immigrant Filipino Nurses in Western Canada: An Exploration of Motivations and Migration experiences through oral history. Thesis for Masters of Science in Nursing. BScN, McGill University, 2007