tanned and discriminated

riding a bike for almost an hour under the scorching summer kofu sun every single day is all what paris hilton should do to get the perfect tan. of course, she has to ride in a skimpy bikini to avoid the unsightly tan lines. that would be some sight, the traffic jam she would cause, Not the tan lines. i have done exactly this since summer started this year, RIDING my bike for an hour, and decently dressed. so now, i am at least three shades darker than my natural golden brown skin,and can be described as toasted. no matter how american my accent is, I can never be mistaken for anything else other than a national of a third world country.

i was riding my bike back home one night last week after work when i was stopped by a police car. when they asked me what i was doing riding my bike late at night, i faked a sheepish grin and replied in english, "i'm sorry i can't speak japanese." the highly testosteroned policewoman, far fiercer than the male policeman, continued to speak to me in japanes while i continued to smile and spoke to her in wnglish. she asked for my alien registration card which luckily, i brought with me that day. she asked me questions about my civil status, about my address, about my bike, about my work, about how to write my boss's name, about why i have three names (she was referring to my first name, my middle name and my last name), about why i rode my bike so late and other countless stupid questions which made hilton's antics more intellectually thought out. the fact that she was constantly frowning at me didn't help me to warm up to her. i honestly think that anyone could ever warm up to her. i pity her male partner. after about 20 minutes of japanese-english Q and A, the male policeman apologized for his lack of english to communicate with me, bid me goodnight and then they drove off leaving me baffled, indignant, nervous and relieved!

RACIST! when i asked them if there was any problem why they stopped me, the woman jsut said that they stop late night riders. she said it so casually and with so much "fake" written all over her face even when at least 3 riders rode past us when she interrogated me. if she had just told me that they stopped me because i was brown skinned and she was just being a pig, i would have soothed her and told her that she didnt look THAT bad. aaaaaarrrrgggghhh. if i had been white i am certain that she would really try her darnest to talk to me in english, splattering her sentences with apologies! heck if i had been white, she wouldn't have had stopped me at all.

i know there are many illegal filipinos, thais or indonesians workers in japan but, if the police force wants to crack down on bad bicycle riding people, they should do it across the board and not pick on brown skinned, or toasted skinned people for that matter, ONLY. when i told my boss about it, he jokingly said that he would not hire a filipina anymore as it might cause him trouble trying to save the filipino from the police. i didn't find it funny! this is exactly how prejudice is bred!! it starts out with stopping brown skinned bike riders then the next thing you know, employers all over would have skin tone preferences. how can such a country who boasts of very highly modern technology can still have such a medieval mind frame!!?? really!

if the government wants to catch the bad foreigners in this country, i think they should be looking into the statistics of japanese women who have shed a thousand tears because of a broken heart from their bastard of a white men boyfriends.

loving myself for much more

When the Aussie bloke and I ended and when he easily took up someone else (someone I considered a friend nonetheless), my self worth plummeted faster and much much lower than the US economy. I couldn't help but ask myself over and over again how she was better than I was, or what it was that she had which i didn't have, or why he chose her over me. It was maddening. Of course, I still had enough sensibility in me to know that the issue wasn't how she does her hair nor how I laugh; that the issue wasn't because I fart in front of him nor because she was feminine. The issue, I knew was not because she was better than I was because I still had pride in me to think that I was and still am quite a catch, the issue was HIS sense of judgement; it just so happened that he prefers peaches over mangoes. But, I needed to feel that I am still worth it to someone. I needed to truly believe in my value as a person and that I need not change things in me just to fit into men's desire. A week long trip was what I needed to go back to myself, and see that I will be alright.

I went to Hokkaido last week for Obon. Obon is a week long Japan holiday for the Japanese to remember their dead. For the English teachers though, it just means a week long holiday away from the repetitive "good mornings" and "how are you todays?". Hokkaido is the northernmost island of Japan and is notorious for its harsh -30C winter. In summer though, people go to hokkaido to cool off and enjoy its beautiful landscapes and wildlife. I went there to rediscover myself and boy, the place didn't dissappoint me.

I would never forget the happiness I was intensely suffused with while I cycled on the hills of Biei or took photos of flowers in Nakafurano or hiked in Shirogane. I was filled with a profound sense of union with nature that, although I am not a prayerful person, I whispered a prayer for all the people I love and those whom I find difficult to love. The huge expanse of gently rolling green hills with the mountain range in the distance made me so much grateful for the life that I have.

It was amazing as well to see the Obonodori festival dance in Sapporo; when people of different age, different backgrounds and with different sense of rhythm could just join in the dance and stamp their feet and clap their hands to the beat of the drums and to the encouragement of the singers! Otaru, a town an hour away, offered a calming walk along its canal even with the million tourists milling about. The entire trip was anything but short from rejuvenating and fun!

What really made the entire trip fun was the people I have met, talked with and travelled with. I met an American girl who has the exceptional ability to out-talk me and still have plenty of things to say about almost everything, the Domino's pizza shop people who drove me to my youth hostel when I asked for directions, a Korean girl who was so sweet and engaging, an Australian couple who were the most sensible strangers I have ever talked to, an Ojiji who gave me a box of cake as reparation for the biases that Japanese people have against Filipinos, another Ojiji who gave me a bottle of ice coffee, a Korean Aussie whom I gossiped with, and the coolest Japanese I have ever met and whom I am meeting with next week! Though alone, the camaraderie of solitary travellers always kept me company.

How to get there:

The cheapest way to go to Hokkaido is to go there by ferry either from Ibaraki or somewhere in Akita or Aomori or Niigata. I took the Sunfower ferry from Oarai to Tomakomai and it saved me a lot of money even during peak season. The trip took about 19 hours but the ferry has a sento, a restaurant, a pachinko place, vending machines, massage chairs and a theater to keep the passengers occupied. Of course if these things still aren't amusing enough, one can always put on the captain's jacket and cap for photos! Making a reservation for the ferry is easy as well as they have English speaking operators although during peak season, it is advisable to make one's reservation as early as two months before the date of departure.

Flying to Hokkaido might be faster but it is the most expensive way which could easily cost as much as 30000 yen from Sapporo to Tokyo, one way. There are several airlines which fly from the main island (from Tokyo or Osaka) to Hokkaido such as JAL , ANA, AirDo , and Skymark . Also there are several airports in Hokkaido so one can choose the airport conveniently close to the destination. Among the airlines serving the honshu-hokkaido route, Skymark is the cheapest one.

Training it to Hokkaido is another option although not at all the most convenient. First because one has to make several changes and the train doesn't have much entertainment to offer for its 10 hours long trip. The scenery along which the train runs is quite beautiful I heard but when one is seating on an aisle seat and is sandwiched between two snoring passengers, then it can get a bit vexing. However for train schedules visit grace-hyperdia for the cost and schedule of the JR trains running between Honshu and Hokkaido.

Where to stay:

The most expensive place to stay are hotels and ryokans. The cheapest and the best place to stay for backpackers are Youth Hostels. At Youth Hostels, one can meet alot of people from different parts of the world and just talk to them and gain new friends. I know I did. I stayed at Ino's Place in Sapporo and at Furano Youth Hostel in Nakafurano. Prices at youth hostels, unlike in other accomodation options, doesn't fluctuate with every season. The downside though is one has to share rooms with other people which means there is a chance that one might get awakened by somebody else's snoring or alarm going off or just by someone else's stink. I know I did! haha!

What to do:

Go nuts! There are plenty of things to do in Hokkaido all year round. May it be skiing in winter, or hiking in summer or flower viewing in spring or momiji viewing in autumn, this island won't run out of activities for its tourist. If none still interest you, you can always stay at the youth hostel and just read a book while sipping hot tea!

So, how much did I spend on that 7 days trip? A LOT but then again, for me to be able to feel loved by myself, to be truly happy from within, a month worth of salary isn't much. After all, one deserved to be loved as much, and if one can't give it to one's self, then no one can ever can.

(for more photos of my trip click on any of the photos)

Telling It As It Is. A Reply to The Wary Diplomat’s Blog Entry.

I was supposed to be studying for the National Medical Aptitude Test but while I was looking for my study material in my very disorganized hard drive, (I find it very disappointing that a thing which could automatically reboot, shutdown, or correct itself CAN NOT automically organize itself!) I found several articles which I had written and which never made it to the public view...so I am posting them here.

This article was written in response to my friend's blog entry about me. Unfortunately, she had erased her blog and had a new one, which doesn't feature yours truly.



悲欢离合. Joys and sorrows; partings and reunions. This is what traveling ultimately teaches a person.

Plane rides always give me a feeling of metaphysical suspension between the place left behind and the place of destination. It takes two hours from Tagbilaran to Manila; two hours; a good time to adjust from the slow and lazy life of Tagbilaran to the fast paced, time conscious life of Manila; from carinderias to MacDonalds, from Garden Café to Starbucks. When I was still in University, I already had this feeling that Tagbilaran wasn’t quite home anymore but I can’t quite call Manila that either. I had this premonition that I would constantly be hovering over the gray area between A and B. This feeling became more intense when I lagged behind my batch mates by one year after I decided to take a semester off from school and to take a minor in International Business. Different new faces from one class to another came and went and the old ones, well, reality had a way of distancing people to blur. So you see Wary Diplomat, I already had the premonition back then, this angst that I would always be swinging.

It came to a shock to my family when I told them that I was leaving for China . After all, none of them knew that I was really serious about going although, they heard me mentioned it over dinner once or twice before. Only my mother and my younger brother were at home when I left. Two hours after, I was already at the port boarding the last ferry to Cebu. I didn’t wait, I couldn’t. In hindsight, I think I was more like avoiding having to say a long goodbye with my family. I was never good with goodbyes, even until now, I’d rather leave in silence. 12 hours later in China, I saw the family pictures my younger brother so thoughtfully tucked into my backpack at the last minute. Wary diplomat, I didn’t gather enough courage to leave, I simply didn’t have time to check if I had enough of it which I didn’t. I had the feeling again I once had during plane rides. I spent a long time that night trying to sleep, staring at the ceiling cracks, shivering from February winter cold.

I studied at an exclusive school for girls and went to the best university in the country. I could sense that people treated me differently because of this, even admired me. However, it is an entirely different world abroad. No one knows what THE Ateneo was; or Holy Spirit was; or who the Corres were; HECK they didn’t even know that the Philippines was on the map!! In China, I was a tabula rasa to the people, they didn’t know anything about me and if ever I had worth, I had to prove it to them. I experienced discrimination, something absolutely new to me. When I was used to given preferential treatment because of my background, I had to give way to someone else because I didn’t have blue eyes or that my nose wasn’t long. I was given a lower salary not because it was at par to my competence but because it was the price they deemed right to my skin color. I was cheated off my contract, made to do manual labor; carrying heavy buckets of food, cleaning toilets, laundering children’s clothes when I had 3 house helps at home just so I didn’t have to do anything! The first impulse was to call home, get my Congressman Uncle to wage war against the city of Jiangmen unless they honor my contract, or worse, ask my mom to pick me up and bring me home! But, I didn’t do any of those ridiculously childish thoughts. Instead I tried to be diplomatic and mature about it and talked to my superior but when it still didn’t work, I screwed them up at their own game. I signed another contract just so I could get my bonus and then left the school without notice. In one year and five months, I realized that to be too trusting is not always good; to be kind is not always the right thing to do. I came to learn that no one can really be there for you; that one is ultimately alone, and so one has to be strong enough to stand up for one’s self.

Karma. The law of equal and opposite reaction. Yin and yang. Tears in Jiangmen, happiness in Beijing. Bliss came in the form of a walking hairball (hihihi). And after a month or so of seeing each other at work for only ten minutes, once a week; I successfully managed to make a lover out of a stranger. I learned to allow myself to fall. I rode at the back of his bicycle around WuDaoKou laughing myself silly. I willingly gave my hand to be held in public places. It was liberating not to care about who might see me, or what other people might think (“Ang landi landi, sa harap ng maraming tao, nagpapahawak ng kamay!”), or what they would say to my family, or what my family would do!! I honestly think that if I were still in Tagbilaran, I would never get to know the tingling five o’clock feeling of knowing that his bicycle was outside waiting for me. I know I would never have come to know the excitement of seeing someone I had just said goodbye to on the phone. I would never get to experience that want for everything to be perfect to please another. I would never get to know why people sometimes have that silly smile without any reason at all. Wary diplomat, this is what it has done to me; it liberated me from the senseless shackles of what I’ve been taught to do and not to do and to make for myself my own mould. Of course it came to pass that I cried but as cliché as it might sound, I would never have it any other way.

time

i am not okay. weeks after the phone call i still turn my neck whenever a yellow car passes by, hoping that it was his, coming to pick me up; my heart still skips a beat whenever i hear a car revved, i still sleep on my side as if he is beside me hugging me to sleep. i still use his coffee cups, i still drink with his glasses, take photos with his camera, listen to his music. people tell me i should throw away these things so that forgetting would come easier. i can't. he was a part of me. he made me happy until it ended. throwing away the things he gave me seems to me that the sadness weighs more than the happiness i had with him. so i hang on to the remnants of pain and bliss.

people tell me too that time heal all wounds, that one day i will not dream of him anymore, that i will stop analyzing how it could had been better. this i truly believe in but how long will i stay this way?i believe that i have to wallow in my sadness so that i can wash it away clean. just when that washing will come, i still don't know. time, may time be merciful on me and come sooner. may it lick my wounds close, but may it leave me with my scars that i may not forget.