Suddenly Stateside was a book my sister Myrza gave me as a farewell gift with the message "I hope you find this funny, and hope it helps you cope and blaze trails out there."  I've read bits and pieces of it since I arrived and had sat down to read it for the first time while The Wifey (no, i'm not the Daddy!) was cooking.

The collection of essays regales stories of the author's life as a Filipino in The Land of Milk and Honey. One particular essay, Fecal Attraction, struck close to home as it detailed the perils of toilets in Manila.

Oh god, I'm thinking now, this isn't even half of what you can expect from toilets in the provinces.  I had spent a considerable amount of time travelling to the provinces for adventures, often in Victory buses which stopped at the filthiest rest stops, which ranged from latrines dug from the ground to empty concrete rooms with nothing but a timba (pail) and a tabo (dipper). On the wall of one of these cubicles at Dau was scrolled "Bawal tumae sa tabo. Bawal tumae sa timba. Bawal tumae sa sahig (No shitting on the dipper. No shitting in the pail. No shitting on the floor)," which only implied that all of these unfortunate incidents happen quite frequently.

But still, through my training with the stench of week-old urine and maggot-infested toilets, this was home. The poverty that surrounded me, and the difficulties associated with the life of a struggling yuppie compares to nothing, even now that i'm in the Land of Plenty.  Perhaps, as others would say, I only felt good back home because I was an heir to a small corporation, and educated in the best schools.  But then when i think about it now, I catch myself missing the chaos of Manila sometimes, when I'm taking my daily walk around Brooklyn or in Prospect Park.

What I miss especially are my long commutes from my office in Makati City to my classes in UP, to home in Sikatuna Village in Quezon City. I used to opt for one to two-hour bus rides over the speedier 15-minute train rides because it gave me much-needed nap time to reenergize for my classes, and also because I found bus rides entertaining, especially the most inconvenient ones when I had to raise my legs up because I wouldn't fit into the seats designed for the average 5-foot Filipino.  At rush hour, one would have to stand through the whole trip, often with irritable commuters travelling 3 hours just to get home. Add some mid-year rain and the consequential floods, it's hell as Manila commuters know it.  I never complained. Being raised a commuter I always thought it built character.  The dirtier the seats were, the more the AC broke down trapping us into a box of heat and pungent sweat, the more gum was stuck under the seats, the better.

I liked reading  the graffitti on the seats, and the little Driver's Prayers hanging on jeepney rear view mirrors.  On one particular bus I once read, "Love always an especial feeling, if you open your heart to somebody in," and laughed all the way to work, saying it over and over and sending it as a text message to all my friends. One of them even replied, "you're lucky. i'm riding a cab called 'Three Brathers Taxi.'"

These little adecdotes, tales of inconvenience from back home will remain unparalleled as I traverse new paths over here where it's (supposed to be) "happenin'."  The hardships of a life lived in the Philippines, where everything is scarce and basic amenities are a luxury, like most everything in life, either kill you or make you stronger.  They either make you or break you, and if you're lucky you'll come out more resilient and resourceful than the next person.  If you're luckiest, you will discover that however primitive and hungry we are perceived by others, we have a culture like no other.  And it is one that is bourne out of suffering and hardwork, of patience and optimistm, and the grace to laugh at all predicaments, however tragic they may be.

This makes me wonder, however, when my so-called patriotism shall start to fade.  Of all the adjustments and layers of culture I am assimilating, somehow and in some way something will have to give sometime soon, right?  This saddens me, but then I'm hoping that all I've learned and absorbed back home, combined with all that I'm experiencing right now can only be good, as I start my stories on this new adventure.