Sunstar Essay: Homecoming, sort of

Saturday, September 3, 2011

HAVEN'T you ever wondered what Filipino immigrants in the US think about their old home, like Cebu, when they come and go for short quick visits, looking back a bit, then out front, hurrying on, and away?

A friend who married an American after college and took up theater, then found a job at the UN office in New York, was quiet in one of her early quick visits in the old home. We were moving along Jones Ave., then on to Mango Ave. A liberated Filipina and sure of herself, Susan Rodriguez Fagan looked at the places we passed by. Then she groaned and asked in what seemed like a holler, “Where are the trees!”

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Some weeks ago, another friend, also a New Yorker, came for a visit after quite a long time. Filipino playwright in New York, Linda Faigao Hall’s first comment was with a smile, “Why, we do stand in line, now!”

And that made me feel good, looking at the line in banks and other service businesses. By just this comment, she talked without saying so of patience in Filipinos.

“But the driving,” she laughed, “is helter-skelter!” Especially in Manila, she said. Keeping a kinder view of Cebu, she said that in Manila, vehicles aren’t driven, they dance. But only few accidents happen, not like in New York.

Not that the drivers in the ‘60s (and I was one of them!) were more careful. There were less vehicles in the streets. In fact, when Linda left for the US, there were no taxicabs in Cebu City then.

In driving, the Filipino is “non-linear,” Linda said with a laugh, referring to the reckless driver. The yellow line in the middle of the street is “decoration” to the jeepney and the cab driver. The next time she came, the cab Linda took “may buslot sa floor!”

She laughed again.

As for the pedestrians, they can get careless, and the risk is greater because there are no decent sidewalks in many places.

Besides, a pedestrian could shrug her shoulders and say, referring to the driver, “Nakakita bitaw na siya nako.”

Linda, daughter of teacher, poet, journalist Cornelio Faigao, was always laughing during our talk, the way a Filipino lives on the note of laughter. She didn’t say she was missing old Cebu but was she welcoming new Cebu?

It makes my day, she said, referring to the Filipino sense of humor. Take the ATM. She was told that it’s all about water dispensers in public places. And the meaning of ATM is Automatic Tubig Machine, was she surprised when told so?

As for peace and safety for visitors, “Wa ko mahadlok dinhi,” she said.

And Cebu is cleaner than the last time she saw it in one of the quick visits. Her recall of old Cebu is of people “nga dali malipay,” who easily break into laughter. It has stayed the same, Linda said.

But seriously now, will she come home to stay? After the death of husband Terence, there are just her and son Justin, does it feel like Cebu is home?

How would other Cebuanos feel in her shoes during that point in their life when old home beckons?

Linda is wondering what she could do to be of some use in the old home, like contribute skill in the community’s theater development. She’s a playwright with 20 plays written and published, most of them produced in both East and West Coasts. In Cebu she could help train new groups, like she’s been doing in New York. So, is she coming home?

The theaters where Linda’s plays have been produced include many in New York, also in Washington D.C., and in San Francisco. At present, she loves what she’s doing—teaching English and running the Writing Center at Mercy College in NY. But there’s something missing, I could sense it while talking to her.

She thinks Cebu is “over-developed.” And Cebu lacks zoning, she said. The old house of the family has now for neighbors some noisy, buzzing restos.

But she could always live in a quiet place. Is she coming home?

(ecuizon@gmail.com)