Out in the Provinces

As I may have mentioned before, my in-laws live in the provinces in Central Luzon. Meaning that they live out in the country, surrounded by rice fields. While they are only 10 minutes away from a major city, it feels like you are totally out in the sticks. Some people would have a problem with this, but I happen to like it a lot. I normally use my visits there to reconnect with people I really like and to relax completely.
The speed of life is a lot slower, the stress levels are different. A different vibe completely.

There are some things that I really love about where they live and some that I find bizarre.

Getting Blessed: Filipino’s have this custom where upon meeting someone or seeing friends or relatives, if you are younger than someone you take their right hand and touch it to your forehead. Sort of a sign of respect. When I do it to an older person, people really dig it, like I’m making an effort to fit in. On the first day of this last visit, I was sitting on the terrace hanging out and all of the kids came up to get blessed, grabbing my hand and touching it to their foreheads. After about 10 minutes of this, I felt like Don Corelone. They also do it right after Mass lets out, for some strange reason. It’s a sign of respect to the elders, and people tend to get a kick out of it when I get blessed from them.

Fast Food: In the case of where my wife’s family lives, it comes to you, sometimes right to your door. The normal system of delivery is on the back of a bicycle, where the various hawkers will ride past your house shouting out what they are selling. You simply stop them and purchase what you want. All of it is cheap, and all of it is good. My personal favorite is the pan de sal lady. For those of you who don’t know what it is, pan de sal’s are bread, similar to dinner rolls, a little chewy on the outside, usually still warm. They are my breakfast of choice along with a cup of coffee, and a dozen of the things can be bought for less than a buck. They’re amazing. Steamed corn-on-the-cob is also a favorite, served nice and hot. Later in the day, the ice cream guys roll by, selling soft serve off the back of a bike. And of course, there is the balut guy. Balut is a fermented duck egg with the partially formed duck embryo inside, a Filipino delicacy that everyone in my wife’s family tries to get me to eat and I refuse to get near. The smell alone grosses me out.

Visiting, Country Style: Since everyone in my wife’s village knows everyone or is somehow related to each other, we generally go visiting. Walk to someone’s house, sit and bullshit for a while, catch up on the latest rumors and gossip, move on. Usually the visitor will get offered soft drinks or something to munch on. My wife has an aunt who loves to feed me mochi and other tasty goodies. Even though I don’t speak the language, it’s still fun. I get treated well and rarely feel like an outsider, even though I’m the only white boy within several miles of the place. I’m accepted, usually referred to as Daddy Troy.

Family: When it comes to family relationships, Americans and Filipino’s have a completely different outlook on things. In most American families, most of us aren’t that close to our first cousins, and many of us don’t even know who are second cousins are. Not so in a Filipino family. They know their entire family, including second cousins, on a first name basis. They also know their children and pretty much everything about them. Since most Filipino’s out in the provinces have huge families, it would seem to me that keeping up with all of this information would be really difficult, but they pull it off. When my wife starts chatting about this family member or that one, I usually just nod and pretend to know who the hell she is talking about. Most of the time, unless it happens to be a brother or sister or someone that I have actually met more than once, I have no clue who she is referring to. Or, the wife will throw up clues if I have the deer-in-the-headlights look on my face. “Remember Auntie Mae, the one who made you the fried noodles?” That’s usually when recognition kicks in.

Videoke: Most Filipinos I know are insane about videoke and karaoke. For special occasions, you can actually rent a machine and have it delivered to your house. On this last trip, Assholus Maximus’s (one of my brother-in-laws that I loathe) had a birthday and rented a machine. It got set up in the back of his house, and all of his friends sat around singing and drinking Red Horse (which I refer to as Caballo Diablo (Devil Horse) Beer. Since I have a hard time being around him and some of his asshole friends, I chose not to participate. Since Arnel Pineda became the front man for the band Journey, you can always expect to hear the same two or three Journey songs sung repeatedly and badly. That is one reason I feel that the new president of the Philippines’s first act in office should be to ban the sale and use of videoke machines.

Like I said, it’s a hell of a lot of fun to go there, in spite of some of the bullshit that usually happens with my in-laws.