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My mom insists that this place is unsafe, because I am not from here and I don't know the language. And so I've felt unsafe, unable to converse. When she was gone I had a brief conversation with two girls, and some tricycle drivers, and I felt more alive, more social, more connected. With her and because of her words, I feel small, afraid. I am unable to grow because she doesn't want me to, she wants to keep me as a child - even though I am 32 years old. And when I push back and tell her that, she says it is out of love.
In my family, love and sacrifice are the same thing. Makes sense for a people who really really love Jesus. My uncle was telling me the story of when my Lola died, and he made it clear in a very passive-aggressive wasy that he was the one who promised to take care of her and stay behind, that he was the one who loved their mother the most because of that - a sibling rivalry between him and my mom.
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Stranger in the homeland
I arrived in the Philippines a week and a half ago. My mother and I immediately got to arguing - I didn't like the Airbnb she found - it was a studio with white fluorescent lighting and not really cozy - which she claims she got just for me, and I told her I wished she got my input. While I'm here, I know I have to help her with her affairs and help her get around but I still want it to feel like a vacation. And not have to hear her snoring. We moved Airbnbs. I told her I would pay the difference.
So far, we've stayed only in Manila. Compared to other Southeast Asian countries I've been to, it feels very American, lots and lots of malls, food chains, cars. And has lots of the parts of NY I don't love - tons of noise and air pollution, traffic, and people. There is not really a concept of personal space here. Cars and motorbikes give you an inch, people pack into the lightrail train like sardines, even at the shops the vendors will grab your arm to get your attention.
I feel like people can tell I'm an American, and I'm the only one I've seen here in 7+ days. I feel eyes on me, people trying to get me to buy things or use their cab. I can't blend into the sea of people like I do in NY, and because of that I've been hesitant to bring out my camera, only sneaking in a few pictures here and there are rarely of the locals.
I romanticized this trip, thinking I would go back to my roots, eat lots of fruits, wake up to roosters and eat fresh pan de sal in the morning. Instead it's just lots of car honks, buildings, and the same meats and rice. Though it's been interesting seeing how the locals live here, I'm excited to explore beyond Manila.
I've also had to be very patient with my mom, helping her get around. She has trouble seeing and walking. In NY she doesn't use a cane, but here I guess she isn't as embarrassed. It's been difficult seeing her look so weak and old. We tried doing Youtube stretching exercises in the morning, and I've given her some massages, but she doesn't seem to want them anymore. The novelty of being here together and having this free time is fading away.
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