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My Turnby Maileen Hamto |
 |
From The Asian Reporter, V17, #47 (November 20, 2007), page 6.
Giving thanks
I remember the first Thanksgiving in our new country years ago. We had only been in the U.S. for eight months, and Filipino friends of my parents invited us over to celebrate Thanksgiving at their home. The traditional Thanksgiving dinner was perfect, and was a good introduction to how well-assimilated immigrant families celebrate American holidays.
Subsequent Thanksgivings gave us the chance to break with Turkey Day traditions. We never completely developed the taste for turkey, so we did our own thing. Lechon and pancit. Crawfish cooked Cajun-style, served with corn on the cob. Leche flan, not pumpkin pie.
Not that we didn’t like turkey. We discovered that turkey tastes best when it is deep-fried in peanut oil and eaten with rice.
That’s the great thing about being in America. People are free to do what they please. We’re free to mix and match traditions, infuse American holidays with our own cultural flavors.
Shopping spree?
There’s another Thanksgiving tradition that took a little while to sink in. What’s with people waking up early the day after Thanksgiving to rush to the malls? To buy Christmas gifts, of course! It was mind-boggling to learn that people take a whole month racking up debt and spending money they don’t have on stocking stuffers.
Everywhere you turn, the message is: Buy! Spend money! It will make you happy! Plastic toys and video games will make up for lost time with your kids!
The focus on consumerism during the holidays is a stark contrast from holiday celebrations back home. For better or worse, I was raised in a culture that is very Catholic. Even though I grew up in an evangelical Christian church, Catholic traditions loomed large, with church bells ringing to awaken everyone to celebrate novena by attending simbang gabi (dawn mass). The holiday season is a more solemn, more religious occasion.
About family
Some learnings from Thanksgivings past were a bit too alien at first. American friends often talked of being stressed about going home to see their families for the holiday.
"Oh, you don’t see your family that often?" I asked.
"No, we live far away for a reason," the friend said.
Interesting, I thought, seeing your family only once a year and being stressed about it. More interesting and intriguing is the idea that people can choose to live away from family: your blood relatives, your clan. It was strange to meet so many people who were closer to their college friends than even their own siblings.
In America’s highly individualistic society, looking out for No. 1 is a tempting prerogative, but in reality, it could be a very lonely place.
Spending half my life in the States (and all of my adult life) forced me to reconcile my newfound freedoms in my new country with the weight of tradition from the old. I was hardly a wild child, but like any other young adult, I had my moments of rebellion. It wasn’t easy, balancing the pull of a new culture with deeply ingrained lessons from my own.
"It’s my life," I told my father once in a heated argument about a choice I was threatening to make.
"No, that’s not entirely true. Whatever you do, we will somehow be affected by your decision. You will always be our daughter, and we cannot let you suffer. So, choose well." My father’s stern words.
It was a hard lesson to learn, but I soon realized that the façade of individualism is hardly an effective survival tactic. Especially for immigrant families that come from collectivist traditions, staying close to family is important. Any big life decision almost always involves considering how it will affect the family dynamic.
Being thoughtful and considerate about how decisions impact the people in our life is wise. The laws of the universe place our individual orbits in close proximity to others. No man is an island.
When I sit down with family and friends this Thanksgiving, I will be thankful for our entanglements that make life always interesting, a bit messy, and never boring.