I remember a television commercial sometime in the late 80’s in which a man was sitting on the front steps of the Lincoln Memorial building, supposedly in a somber mood, when he suddenly sees his wife and daughter running down the steps towards him. He looked around and found himself transported in front of the Manila Post Office, the façade of which, quite resembling that of the Lincoln Memorial building. After a brief moment of hugs and smiles with his family, he realized that everything was just in his imagination.
The commercial evoked feelings of loneliness and longingness (if there’s such a word) in presenting the emotional state of Filipinos who are abroad and are away from their families. That PLDT commercial was so memorable that I can still play it in my head after all of these years, even though I could not relate then, being only in my teens and far from such a situation.
Fast forward to the present and I am amazed to realize how much truthful and probable such a scene could be because… it’s now happening to me.
I’m a new immigrant in Canada and the circumstances of why I decided to leave the Philippines for good is another story altogether.
This is not the first time I left the country. I’ve experienced being away from my family for a couple or several months at a time. I’ve lived for several months in Tokyo, gone backpacking for a couple of months in the States, and have been to Canada for a visit for several weeks.
I was confident that when I get here to Canada to stay for good, I would never feel the pangs of homesickness. I mean sure, I’d miss my mom, my brothers, my dog (!), my cousins, aunts, uncles, sisters-in-law, nieces, nephews, and everyone back home but not to the point of I’m-so-sad-I’d-cry-every-night-and-think-of-going-home kind of homesickness. After all, with the advent of technology, everyone back home is just a text, e-mail, Skype call, phone call, and webcam away. With Skype especially (I am, by the way, not getting paid for advertisement. Though I wouldn’t mind…), just taking the time zone difference into account, I can call my mom for as trivial a reason as “did I leave a piece of sock behind because I’m missing half a pair in my luggage.”
So having been here for a couple of weeks, I was still, quite frankly, enjoying myself and excited with the infinite possibilities in starting over in a foreign land.
Little did I know that the feeling of longingness (again, if there is such a word) creeps up on you when you least expect it and for a moment, douses you with the cold reality that you sorely miss your life back home.
It started when I decided to go out and explore the streets of Winnipeg a couple of days ago. I was excited at the prospect of familiarizing myself with the ins and outs of the city where I was going to be living in for the next couple of years of my life. As I was idle at home, having reached my daily quota of sending out application letters and resumes to different companies, which, by the way, I never thought could be quite tiring, and frustrating too, I decided to break the monotony of my first week and watch a movie at the nearest theater. After researching the bus schedule, bus routes, and movie screening times, I went out and saw a movie on my own.
After the credits have rolled, with nothing in mind but remnants of the story of the movie I just saw, I went out of that dark theater unconsciously expecting I’d come out to the lobby of Glorietta cinemas. A place I know all too well, because it is where I would usually watch movies with family and friends. So coming out of the theater, and that sudden realization that I was not in Makati, and I was not with my mom or cousins or friends, and I am instead a thousand miles away on my own, was enough to make me stand still, let out a short sigh and pause for a couple of seconds.
Another instance was with my Uncle’s cute pomeranian, Trixie. While I was on the computer, Trixie approached me and lied down by the feet of my chair while keeping his gaze intently on me. Those beady little eyes were half-begging and half-commanding me to take my foot off my sandals and gently scratch her tummy with it. So I did and I can tell she was happy for it as she tried her best to lick my toes. I withdrew my foot from her belly after a couple of minutes and, with my focus on the computer’s screen, I felt her two tiny front paws perch on my lap. I suddenly remembered and missed how my beagle, Miggy would always do that when he demanded attention. I half-imagined those two tiny paws as large as my Miggy’s and scratched Trixie’s head half-imagining it was his.
Early this afternoon, we were cooking barbeque with my cousin, his girlfriend, my uncle and aunt, when, for a brief moment I imagined my brother Jeigh, in his tacky-looking apron, fanning the grill with an improvised fan from an old cardboard box and my mom looking over, asking him if it’s nearly done so she can prepare the dining table.
Three barbeque sticks, a grilled sausage, and a heaping serving of rice later, I am here in front of my computer writing about these unconscious, unexpected moments of reminiscence. I realize that no matter how much I confidently proclaim to everyone that I am not feeling homesick, it is I who actually needed convincing.
Sure, although everyone is just a text, e-mail, Skype call (I really should be paid for this), phone call or webcam away, at the end of the day, what I really miss is the company of friends, the soft paws of my dog, and the warm comforting physical presence of my mom and the rest of the family.
As of right now, I can admit that to myself and admittance is always the first step to moving on.
