I just remembered that I arrived in this country on March 16 - and I can't believe this was four decades ago. I've been in the United States twice as long as when I lived in the Philippines. Such a long time!
I came to this country with two suitcases, the sum total of what I thought would be essential in my life as a student at UCLA. What did I bring? I had some suits and nice dresses that my mother had sewn for me. Did I wear those to my classes at UCLA? How out-of-place I must have looked! And shoes - I know I must have brought a number of high heels with me. And flannel nightgowns - I'm sure my mother had some made for me as well - the long-sleeved, long ones, for winter.
And what did I think? I recall the sense of adventure, that devil-may-care attitude as I went about experiencing life in America. I remember being homesick only when I was physically sick, and hankered for chicken-rice soup (pospas). I tried to cook this once, and it was a disaster, chicken undercooked, the whole thing a mess.
I recall the first brushes with racism, and always from older white women. Never the men, because the older men always had good things to say about the Philippines and Filipinos as they recalled World War II days; and the young men were always flirting.
I remember my first Easter in this country, which was spent at UCLA's International House. There was an afternoon meal served to the students by dutiful volunteers, all of whom felt sorry for us because we had no families in America. We students didn't care at all since we didn't know a thing about American holidays.
I remember being overwhelmed by UCLA since I was used to the small Catholic colleges. I couldn't get over the huge classes and the anonymity and the impersonal treatment of the professors.
I recall the kindness of so many people.
In balance this country has been very, very generous to me!
~~~~~
picture shows what I looked like when I first arrived America - ha! could be my daugher!
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