i vaguely remembered reading incredulously this email three years ago. this before i finally decided to immigrate to the states.
last week, i received this email again, or some syntactically challenged permutation of it. true to form, a friend back in manila who gets livid quite easily over these alleged slights against our pristine and immaculate national character, sent this email to me, high priority.
he was also the one who broached me the heartbreaking news decades ago that our camp goddess then, the fashion challenged mariah carey, spewed some anti-filipino venom herself.
the email, long authenticated to be a hoax, was purportedly from a quaint figure in the raucous american radio talk show scene, art bell. in the so called letter, mr. bell, who, i believe is married to a pinay, allegedly wrote, among others, that in the past few decades, filipinos have begun to infest the united states like some sort of disease.... nothing respectable has ever been created by the filipino people.... in their minds, they somehow believe they are asian.... nothing in filipino culture can be seen as asian.
with nothing but love on my mind, i quickly forwarded this email, complete with sarcastic asides, to a co-worker--a freshly sworn in (barely a year) naturalized american citizen-who has stopped showing up in gatherings exclusively attended by kababayans. too stifling, so the faggot said.
a quick reply got to my mailbox. an invitation, a sunday brunch. for what?, i emailed back. a gathering for (sic) minds that thinks (sic) alike, his email said. plus, he's buying. so, what to lose?
the empire's neo-citizen was very agreeable with me during brunch and very solicitous to his boyfriend, a reticent, white guy with a fast receding hairline.
the table talk centered obviously around the letter. this even after i made the disclaimer that the email was long revealed to be a hoax. it was just too good a meal time conversation fodder to forego.
of course, i never think of myself as asian, the former pinoy said. they can have all that to themselves, he added as he leaned against his white boyfriend, his brown skin assuming a darker tone not unlike that of the dominican waiter.
of course not, said his boyfriend. you see why i love this guy? the bukidnon born and bred american citizen giggled as he rubbed his right hand against the hairy forearm of his boyfriend.
why would i? said the american citizen, the japanese, the koreans, the chinese, hell, they can't even speak a decent sentence of english. he sought the eyes of his boyfriend after saying this.
but you're different, dear. you are american already. as soon as the boyfriend said this, a beatific smile was plastered across the american citizen's face. nothing could erase this from his face even after he saw the check.
after brunch, the couple extended their graciousness by inviting me to go with them to watch the latest vin diesel movie. i told them i have to catch this carolina ditsi documentary at lincoln center.
carolina, who? the citizen asked. a pinay feature documentary filmmaker, i said. you're in america now and you still insist in watching these elementary (sic) pinoy melodramas? pwede ba? this was the only time he spoke filipino during our midday soiree.
i told him this was not a commercial film but a documentary, mostly in bisaya, about 3 school age kids incarcerated with other adult criminals. worse, he snapped back.
after thanking them, i went to the nearest m5 bus stop while they hailed the first cab downtown.
in the bus stop, a silver haired lady with a tatty four legged walker kept staring at me. i averted my gaze from her. but when the bus came, i was forced to help her climb up the rather steep stairwell.
as soon as she was settled in a seat across me, she thanked me quite profusely. then she asked me if i was japanese. i shook my head. korean? she persisted. i said no.
i'm filipino, i told her. she looked puzzled. where is that? I smiled and said i'm asian. sweetly, she smiled and thanked me again.