Culture Shock

Over a year ago, I had to adjust from the clarity of American culture to what felt like the chaos of the Filipino culture.  It took only a matter of days for me to begin to feel comfortable with the difference.  Over the next several months, I learned the little nuances of the culture, like how it's not rude to say someone has gotten fat or thin, or how it's perfectly normal for a complete stranger to ask you were you are going and why.  I adjusted to the unusual-ness of people staring at me and believing me to be gorgeous for no reason beyond my pale skin and blue eyes.  I even learned how to explain (In hiligaynon) what a freckle is and how it won't come off no matter how long a little kid will scratch at it.  Amat-amat... I mean, little-by-little... I became Filipino, if not in appearance, in heart.

Now I have to do it again backwards.  Have you ever noticed how weird America is?  If you are inside of a building, it's cold, even if it's hot outside.  People keep their windows closed, you can't hear what's going on outside.  No one comes walking down the street selling balut and other local snacks.  And perhaps the most difficult, they all speak English.  I have to think really hard to make sure I don't use words like huya, gani, bawal, or sige.  I miss the Philippines. I miss rice. 

But don't get me wrong, America is amazing!  I get the blessed opportunity to adjust to the fact that hot water comes out of faucets.  You can flush toilet paper down the toilet.  And no one thinks you're weird if you want to eat cereal and milk for breakfast instead of rice. Oh- and stop lights!... they exist, AND they work. Isn't it beautiful.

Palangga ko and bansa ko, pero palangga ko man ang dating bansa ko. Gusto ko lang mag-ilonggo.