Food for Thought

One of the earliest memories I have is walking up to the front of Nana's house, with the smell of home cooked ube halaya wafting through her screen door. Nana greets me at the door, spatula in hand, telling me to tikim or taste her fresh batch of ube made especially for me. Who would say no to that?!

Nana's house still stands in a barangay or barrio called Balut in the Philippines. For a small town, it has a name with a big reputation. "Balut" loosely translated means "wrapped" but its more commonly known translation refers to a popular street-food in the Philippines, which is a fertilized duck (or chicken) egg with a nearly-developed embryo inside, boiled and eaten in the shell. Yes, I used to eat balut. No, I don't eat it anymore.

Ube and balut are just two of the many Filipino staples that bring back memories. Now that I think about it, they're somewhat representative of the majority of Filipino cuisine: sweets and meats. With meats out of the picture for me as a vegetarian, I think I might hold sweets on a whole new level nowadays. I no longer have access to traditional, hand-mashed and hand-stirred ube but I can still find its processed cousin at Fil-Am franchise markets like Red Ribbon, Jollibee, etc. And just like how I have bitter sweet feelings about the intersection of childhood memories and realizing how many years old I gradually turn, I have bitter sweet feelings about the intersections of Filipino food and American culture.

There's a part of me that's excited about the blossoming modern takes on Filipino food (especially in the vegetarian arena) but I also can't help looking back in true old fart fashion to the "good ol' days" of real Filipino food, whatever that means. This is where I get into the grey area of what real Filipino food even is... which reminds me of the more general question, "What makes something authentically Filipino?" Filipino food is in itself an intersection of the many cultures within the Philippines; a yummy manifestation of the political clumping together of the many islands after colonization... my Nana herself was part Spanish, so does her ube halaya not count as Filipino food to begin with?

As I muse about the many aspects of Filipino food (remembering memories attached to old dishes and taking in the emerging new versions), my brain takes me not only on a ride through food memory lane but also on a surprise journey to wrack my brain about ancestry and authenticity. Definitely food for thought.

GSM's Dinner at Mom & Dad's

What's it like having Thanksgiving dinner at a Fil-Am household like my family's?

Tomorrow, Thanksgiving, is traditionally a day of cultural fusion at my parent's dinner table. Growing up, our holiday dinners were usually a mix of American and Filipino dishes. Sitting next to the ham, turkey, and mashed potatoes would also be lumpia and pancit. It's like the mix of food symbolizes our cultural influences.

At first, my parents were worried about my being vegetarian, concerned that I wasn't getting enough protein. It took a long time for them to get used to the idea. For one, meat is a prominent feature in many Filipino dishes. However, over the course of many years, and with the health benefits of vegetarianism being well recognized in mainstream health circles, my mom no longer serves ham and turkey, and substitutes the ground beef in lumpia for veggie protein. It still tastes good. And though our family's pancit no longer has meat, it has a lot more vegetables that add to the texture of the noodle dish. I'm touched at how my mom has finally accepted my way of eating, and has incorporated it into our holiday traditions. To give her a hand, I'll step it up on the sides and make vegan stuffing, yam casserole, and green beans. No one leaves the dinner table hungry or unsatisfied.

Now, if I can just get everyone to not talk politics, religion, or about make fun of my violin playing at the dinner table...

Happy Holidays!

Kain na tayo! Let's eat!

According to an August SF Chronicle article Filipino food "might just be the next Asian cuisine to hit prime time..." But for us three bebots, Filipino food was, is, and always will be an integral part of who we are and how we identify with other Filipinos. Got adobo? Of course! Bring on the lechon! Halo-halo with a heaping of ube? Yes, please.

In this highly anticipated blog, we'll each discuss what Filipino food means to us. As you noticed with our No Worries restaurant review, two of us are vegetarians. This next blog post will address the conflict and compromise of incorporating traditional cuisine into a vegetarian diet, touch on the cultural evolution of "traditional Filipino cuisine," and reminisce about our memories of popular Filipino staples including ube. Join us in discussion as we dig into this culinary delight!

To read the full SF Chronicle article on the bourgeoning popularity of Filipino cuisine in the Bay area and the US, click here.

Have you eaten? Our culinary adventure to No Worries Filipino Vegetarian Restaurant in Oakland

With No Worries Founder and Chef Jay-Ar Pugao

On October 1st, we paid a much anticipated visit to No Worries Filipino vegetarian restaurant in Oakland, CA.  It was grand opening day for No Worries, and for us, this was not going to be an ordinary lunch break.  We had been waiting for No Worries to open for months, as we were quite eager to experience our favorite dishes from childhood, vegetarian-style.  We were also excited at the prospect of a new lunch spot in downtown Oakland.  We had such a great experience (turned out that we were their first customers of the day), we wanted to share it with you.  Here's what we thought!

Beverly:
Since I walked passed it back on a sun-shiny afternoon in June, I've waited for No Worries to open its doors. I remember the first thought that came to mind when their sign caught my eye, "Filipino (yes!) vegetarian (whaaa?!) cuisine." I couldn't believe it. Now all I had to do was wait for their grand opening. June, July, August, and September passed by and I started to get worried, "will my Filipino vegetarian cuisine cravings ever be satisfied?" No worries though (pun intended), we were some of the very first customers when they finally opened in October - Filipino American History Month. Good timing eh ehh?

Upon entering the restaurant, you're greeted by art work from local Oakland artists on the wall, as well as multiple Philippine flags. R&B music plays on the speakers while young hosts see you to your seat. For less than $8, you can get a four-item lunch, with ulam/dish choices ranging from pancit, lumpia, and adobo, to ones less-known like tocho and giniling. Additional ulam choices are added for dinner.

After eating there multiple times since, my general impression of the food remains the same: I for sure will go back but the hardest folk they'll have to win over are Fil-Ams who are not vegetarian. It's a trip and a treat to eat the food I grew up with in the new, vegetarian form they offer and it couldn't have come at a better time since this year marked my return to a vegetarian diet.

Michelle:
Vegan Filipino food...blasphemous!  That’s what I thought when I found out that No Worries Filipino Vegan Cuisine was set to open up a block from where I worked. I tried to wrap my mind around the fact that someone dared to dream of a restaurant that served all of my favorite childhood dishes… sans meat. I am a Filipino cuisine purist, who every now and then, religiously pours over my cookbook bible that my friends from the PI sent me to relish in beefy meaty goodness. How on earth could anyone successfully pull of taking out the main ingredient of items like bistek (beef steak sautéed w onions) or giniling (ground beef with veggies – think lumpia insides)? The beef flavors the dish. The dish revolves around the beef! Like my hubby would say “que loco!”

Many of my co-workers, both vegetarian and meat lovers, Filipino and non-Filipino, all decided to make a day of going to No Worries grand opening at the beginning of last month. Many of us wanted to support an innovative idea and watch it flourish. We were also curious how someone could create vegetarian cuisine from a predominantly meat-loving culture. I have to say after eating a 4-item dish (yes I was feeling a bit piggy that day), I must give the owner, Chef Pugao, credit for his healthy and tasty renditions of my favorites, pancit (noodles), adobo, and mungo (mung bean soup). As vegetarian/vegan food, it’s not bad.

But, as Bev mentioned, it would take a lot to convert someone like me (one who grew up on traditional Filipino food) to fully accept the concept. And sadly, I am not completely convinced. True, Filipino food is high in cholesterol, fat, and sugar causing many Filipinos to have high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and diabetes; but I can’t shake the fact that instead of beef in my bistek, there was tofu made to look like steak strips all in the name of healthy eating. Don’t get me wrong. I am not completely cutting No Worries out of my life. I am just reluctant to accept it as a place of fine Filipino cuisine. I will definitely return. However, I will still defer to Goldilocks to get my traditional cuisine fix, or my trusty cookbook bible whenever the mood strikes.

GSM's lunch plate!

 Grace-Sonia:
 "Filipino vegetarian food...at last!" I thought to myself as my four item plate was placed in front of me.  Four items?!?  I skipped breakfast on purpose because I wanted to try as much as I could.  It was a tough decision, because there were so many choices on the lunch menu at such a reasonable price, but I settled for all my childhood favorites: adobo, lumpia, pancit, and afritada.  It was all good!  My favorite was the lumpia, but the afritada with rice was a close second.  Having this Filipino vegetarian lunch with my colleagues was a special experience.  Eating like this was a treat, and I had special people around to share this moment with me. 

I've since been back to No Worries a couple of times with other sets of friends.  I enjoy telling them the genesis of the idea for the restaurant.  It all began after No Worries' Founder and Chef Jay-Ar's mother survived a heart attack and was encouraged to eat a vegetarian diet by her doctor.  This inspired him to start experimenting with flavors, and using ingredients like tofu and wheat gluten to substitute for meat products in order to continue making the traditional food his mother liked.  In the Filipino culture, making/sharing/serving food is an expression of love.  Chef Jay-Ar's love for his mom is the reason why we're able to enjoy this new experiment in vegan/vegetarian Filipino cuisine.  Love is how many of us get introduced to Filipino food.  If you're lucky enough to be Filipino, chicken adobo and rice is probably among the first of the solid food you ate as a child.  If you're fortunate enough to have Filipino friends, chances are that someone made you a plate at your pal's mom's house after school or at a birthday party.  And thanks to No Worries, vegans and vegetarians who have never tried Filipino food will have the opportunity.  Sure, there isn't any meat in these dishes.  But if enjoying a meal at No Worries is not an authentic Filipino experience, I don't know what is. 

Scary Filipino Legends

Whether you observe All Saints' Day or the evening before best known as Halloween (All-Hallows-Even), we wanted to share a bonus post on some Filipino legends that gave, and still give, us the creeps!

Multo

The Tagalog term for a ghost is multo (derived from the Spanish word muerte, meaning dead). The multo is the soul of a dead person that has returned to finish an incomplete task, take revenge, or because of an improper burial or an unusually violent death or suicide. The ghost may be seeking a replacement so that it can live again.

Grace-Sonia's multo musings: The very thought of the multo being around would freak me and my brother out!!! A ghost-like creature with missing limbs (either no arms or legs) that would float around to come "get you" (whatever that meant!) in the middle of the night.

Aswang

The aswang has to be one of the most famous of the Filipino scary legends, described as a cross between a vampire, a witch, or a werewolf. Aswangs are shape shifters - human by day and an animal (dog, a pig, a bat, a cat, a snake, etc.) by night. In many regions, they're known as giant bloodthirsty dogs or flying creatures of the night. The thought of an aswang roaming around as a stray animal usually kept kids inside and even adults on their guard.

Michelle's aswang musings: My mom would tell me if I was bad, she'd throw me out to my grandpa's field and feed me to the aswang.

Tikbalang

Tikbalangs said to live in the mountains or forests of the Philippines, have the head and limbs of a horse, and the body of a human. Tikbalangs scare or get travelers lost, and to some, have the the ability to shape shift into a traveler's relative or close friend who asks them to follow it into the woods to make them even more lost. When mad (and a tikbalang get mad pretty easily), a tikbalang can stomp you to death. Travelers can protect themselves from the tikbalang by wearing their shirt inside out and asking the tikbalang out loud for a safety passage.

Bev's tikbalang musings: As a kid, I remember being out a little too late and it would start getting dark. Imagine having to walk by a huge tree, the ones with humungo roots where creepy things can jump out of, and flipping my shirt inside out and asking the tikbalang out loud to leave me alone because I was good and going home.

Duwende

A duwende is a small human-like creature, closely resembling a gnome, who live in forest-y areas. There are said to be two types of duwendes: duwende puti/"white" who bring good luck and duwende itim/"black" who like to play pranks on humans. Duwendes usually keep to themselves and only interact with humans when their homes are messed with. The best way to avoid pissing off a duwende is to say “tabi-tabi po” or "excuse me" aloud before going into their space.

Grace-Sonia's duwende musings: During camping trips, my mother told us it was important to apologize to the duwende before doing your thing out in the woods. I knew the duwende as little trolls who lived out in the forest. If you did not apologize, the duwende with their magical powers, can bring you bad luck. No one wants bad luck on a camping trip.

White Lady

The White Lady is a female ghost known to some as a long-haired woman in a white dress, with her face usually hidden. The most famous white lady story is the White Lady of Balete Drive, in Quezon City, Philippines. According to legend, she was raped and killed by Japanese soldiers during the Japanese occupation of the Philippines in World War II. While not purposefully hurtful, she's been known to cause fatal car accidents for those who see her walking along the road or in the back seat. Some also say that she has no face or a face covered in blood.

Michelle's white lady musings: My friends would always talk about her wandering around scaring kids.

Manananggal

The manananggal is described as a beautiful woman, capable of severing its upper torso in order to fly into the night with huge bat-like wings, while leaving its lower body standing where it left it. Using its extremely long tongue, the manananggal sucks the fetuses from a pregnant woman's belly. To kill a manananggal, one has to find the lower body and spread salt, garlic, or ashes on the open wound. That prevents the two halves from joining and transforming back to human form when daylight breaks.

Bev's manananggal musings: I remember sleepless nights spent watching out for manananggals. I got scared and thought that they might mistake our house for a pregnant woman's and hang from our roof, then snatch me up with their long tongue.

Dark skinned Filipina is not less than or equal to Light skinned Filipina

My embarrassing moment may not seem as funny or as retrospectively embarrassing as Bev's 2nd grade presentation or Gracie's hot VP encounter. It may seem a little racist, at least in my mind I thought it was. And it may seem like a damper to the mood set by my two bebot sisters. So to lighten the mood and stick with our youtube comedian jokes about Filipinos, I too will post something to make you laugh before you delve into my embarrassing and racist moment.

So Rex mentions at the beginning that if you're a dark skinned Filipino, you're going to have a hard life. Funny thing is... my mom had that same mentality. Amusing coming from a middle-aged woman whose village was right next to the ocean and who used to be browner than the coconuts that fell from the trees in her front yard.

When I was growing up, my mom would warn me to be careful of getting too dark. "You don't want to get so black that I can't see you outside at night." Or, "You're as black as dirt, which means you hang outside too much!"

Most children didn't care. Most of my non-Filipino friends were amazed at how I could brown so easily and not get sunburned. I just wanted to play outside and roll around in the dirt like any normal American kid.

One day my parents took me to a birthday party for a girl named Australia who was in middle school and was as pale as Sharon Cuneta, the hotest young starlette of the Philippines of the time (yes, I'm that old!). Of course, Australia's friends were also pale, and just disgusted by dark skinned Filipinos.

I remember that moment when I walked in, a shy 9-year-old, looking for a friendly kid to ask me to play. I walked up to a group of kids and smiled shyly only to hear one boy sneer at me.

"You look like a Cambodian!" he exclaimed. "You're so dark! Are you a FOB?"

This was 1) an insult to me, and 2) the first time I heard about the term F.O.B. (fresh of the boat). I started crying and ran to my mom, subsequently prompting us to leave the party early.

At the time I was so embarrassed. How dare that boy, who didn't even know me, call me Cambodian?! How dare he say I was fresh off the boat?! Do I look Cambodian? Just because I was brown doesn't mean I was beneath him. I complained to all of my Filipino friends asking for reassurance. I didn't REALLY look Cambodian did I? Granted I didn't have the flatnose that is associated with Filipinos, but I thought I looked like my cousins and other relatives back in the P.I. Didn't I?

Later in life it dawned on me that what I was thinking as a kid was a bit racist. What that boy said was racist as well. But it made me realize that a hierarchy mentality of migrants had formed. The Filipino wave of immigration began much earlier than the more recent wave of Cambodian migrants; which meant that Filipinos had time to have children, establish themselves in the communities they resided in, and contribute to the upbringing and Americanization of future generations of Fil-Ams. In our efforts to become more American, we too became more disdainful of color. Dark brown skin became affiliated with hard labor and poverty, whereas light skin became equated with success. As Rex mentions in his skit, who wants to marry a dark skinned girl?

Nowadays, I'm more embarrassed that I was ashamed to be called Cambodian and that I didn't say anything back to that boy. Funny thing is, my sisters always compare how dark they've gotten after a summer playing outdoor sports. They even have a competition with my mom (MY MOM) on who is the darkest. My mom doesn't mind that her skin has gotten dark from hours of watching my baby sis play softball, and she also doesn't mind that I married someone who is just as dark as I am.

We are currently working on our tans and constantly being mistaken for Hawaiians, Southern Chinese, Indonesians, and of course, Cambodians. But none of us really mind at all.

Oh, and I have plenty of Cambodian friends with whom I discuss this topic often and we compare racist perceptions of each other's cultures.

Remember that one time?!?

When it comes to embarrassing childhood experiences, it's difficult to differentiate those that were typically embarrassing versus ones that were due to me just being a Fil-Am kid. Looking back, I was quite an eccentric child, but my strangeness felt punctuated at times by my traditional Filipino family.

In my family, we were raised to keep our personal lives very private. So I think this is part of the reason why I've struggled with responding to this blog topic for so long. But I think my mom would chuckle at the two incidences I'm going to share with you...I hope.

In the region my mother hails from, it's traditional to wear black for an entire year after your parents pass away. A whole year...ALL BLACK. While this could usually pass for a fashion statement, it doesn't fly all the time.

I'll never forget the year that my grandfather passed away. I was 14 and my brother was 12. My grandfather died in the Philippines, which left my mom and my aunt here in the U.S. without much family support for their grief. My brother and I didn't know Grandpa very well. We couldn't wrap our minds around the death of a family member, and were not much comfort for my mother and her sister. When they got back from the funeral, they purchased an entirely new wardrobe of all black clothes from Macys. EVERYTHING was black. Shoes, socks, shirts, pants, skirts, everything. My brother and I were not subject to this tradition, so though we thought it was a little weird, it didn't bother us...until we all went to Mass on Easter Sunday.

While everyone in Church was dressed in bright spring attire, pastel pinks and yellows to celebrate the Risen Lord, my mom and aunt were in ALL BLACK. It was like they had not gotten the memo that it was no longer Good Friday, or were showing up for a funeral. As we lined up for Holy Communion, I noticed the strange looks and whispers in the pews. I felt SO embarrassed. How was I going to explain to the entire congregation that we indeed were pleased that Jesus rose from the dead, it's just this old school Filipino tradition my mom and aunt insisted on practicing?

When Mass ended, my brother and I telepathically agreed to stay for a little bit, and let our mom and aunt get a head start walking over to the car. After about twenty, far away paces, we followed at a distance behind them...very slowly.


I became a problem child in high school. If I didn't see the point in going to class, and if I didn't like being there for any reason, I just wouldn't show up. I took advantage of my school's open campus policy, and walked over to the coffee shop (even McDonalds sometimes) to read what I wanted to read and smoke the cigarettes I managed to purchase illegally. Sometimes, I would meet up with friends from neighboring high schools, but most of the time, I enjoyed being on my own. I worked the system to avoid getting suspended, and intercepted warning notices from my family's home mailbox.

I thought I had it all under control until I got called out of class one day. I had orders to go directly to the vice-principals office. This particular vice-principal was actually a good looking white guy as far as high school administrators went, so it didn't really seem like punishment being sent there. Among my female classmates, he was known as the "handsome" VP. On my way to his office, I constructed my plan. Tell him I was sorry, that I've been helping a friend from another school get birth control or something, and work out a deal where I could serve detention under his supervision.

When I arrived at his office, I had the shock of my life. Mr. Handsome Vice Principal was sitting at his desk just as I had expected...but my mom was seated in the chair across from him. I wanted to disappear. I knew I was busted, big time. It was one thing to be in trouble with school administration. It was another thing to have crossed my mom. She was going to kill me. Mr. Handsome motioned that I come in and take a seat next to my mother.

I pulled out a chair, but avoided eye contact with her.

"So you know why you're here?" the vice-principal said.

I remained silent.

"Well, I thought it best to call your mother in..."

All of a sudden, I felt a tight grasp on my right ear and hair being pulled. In Tagalog, she called me a very, very bad word and asked what was wrong with me and why I was embarrassing her. At that moment, with my mother ready to do or say only God knows what else, I caught a glimpse of Mr. Handsome Vice Principal, frozen from shock, probably wondering what my mom just said to me, and whether or not he should call child protective services.

Finally, my mom let go, the vice principal regained his composure, and I heard my sentence. Not suspension, this time. But a couple of Saturday detentions, and a promise to start showing up to all my classes. I felt bad that I had gotten my mom that angry, and had given her cause to raise a hand at me, her supposedly nearly grown up daughter. Especially in front of my school principal, an Americano.

Since Beverly shared a Russell Peters clip, I'm going to do the same. It's about Asian immigrant parents and corporal punishment. It's hilarious. Hope you enjoy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4oO7ZdfSFI

The Land Before Time, Highwater Shorts, & Taglish

As lighthearted as this topic sounds, it's taken me a while to respond. It might be because of the natural tendency to keep embarrassing moments private, or that there's too many it's hard to pick just one. It's probably a mix of both and a bunch of other things.

In the midst of hashing out memories and recollecting childhood oops-es, one Fil-Am related moment finally popped up. It was right after I trekked over from Olongapo to San Diego, dropping in right in the middle of second grade year and just missing the lessons on dinosaurs (which is probably why I refer to The Land Before Time a lot). On top of being the "new girl," I was the new girl who came from a different country, dressed differently, and most noticeable of all, talked differently. I remember having to step out of class to take ESL classes where I was first introduced to Pepperidge Farm's Goldfish crackers-the instructor's prize instead of gold star stickers. The embarrassing moment came when we were asked to do an oral presentation.

We were asked to create a commercial about a product we invented. We had to create a short script, put together a little jingle, and bring a visual of our product to present in front of the whole class. I called mine Rainbow Crunch cereal and I went all out. I had a little jingle to the rhythm of Barney's 'I Love You' song (I still remember the lyrics but I'll spare you) and I even dressed up in my highwater shorts with Disney character rip-off print. To tell you the truth, it wasn't embarrassing in the moment. Only now when I watch the whole thing on video tape (yes it was recorded) do I notice the sharp vowels and consonants rolling off my tongue. Don't get me wrong, it's not one of those traumatizing embarrassing moments, but it does make me wonder, "Why am I embarrassed of my accent?"

After a few movies and TV shows, it's clear that British accents are seen as witty, clever, and even hot. Other European accents have the same reception but why not Filipino accents? Or Indian and other Asian accents? The simple answer is because they sound different but I'm sure there's deeper reasons than just that, which I don't really want to get into just yet. Do you have any inklings?

The Filipino accent, taglish (mix of Tagalog and English), and other variations of Philippine dialects mixing in with its American English counterparts are comforting sounds when my ear picks them out in a crowd. There's a feeling of home when I randomly hear Fil-Ams speaking a language I share with them. This connection overcomes any embarrassment but I still wonder, why that hint of embarrassment pops up in the first place?

In that light, check out this short clip of Russell Peters and his interpretation of the Filipino accent.

Being a Fil-Am Kid- Embarassing Childhood Memories!

Although we're grateful for our Fil-Am upbringing, we find that many of our conversations revolve around sharing some of the awkward or embarrassing memories we've had growing up in a Filipino family.  This week, us bebots are going to set our usual poise aside, and share with you some of the stand-out recollections (that at times made us want to hide) of coming up as a Fil-Am kid.  We hope you'll laugh with us, and if you so dare, disclose some of your childhood memories too.

Transnational bebot-ism

So you’ve all probably been wondering, “where’s Michelle’s response to ‘why bebot?’” Sorry, I went on a trip and then got lazy, and well… I kept putting off posting, and then I started to hesitate writing.

Some of my hesitation on responding to this topic stems from the fact that I quite don’t know how to answer the topic question. Before the Black Eyed Peas put Stockton, California back on the map by shooting their music video “Bebot” there, I had no clue what the word meant. To be truthful, not many of my other friends who spoke Tagalog knew either. We were born here in the U.S. or came over when we were so young, that we hadn’t learned the slang used by our elder siblings, cousins, and other relatives.

A few weeks ago I called my mom and asked her if she knew what the word meant. I wanted to get a sense for how the word has evolved since she used it and how it is used now. Here’s how our conversation went:

Me: Ma, do you know what bebot means?

Mom: Hah? What’s bebot?

Me: You know, it’s sometimes what people call pretty girls… I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you!

Mom: Oh! Bebot… I think it has something to do with the ubet (Ilokano for butt).

Me: (Spluttering) What?! No mom, it’s not the butt. It means babe! You know, when a guy tries to hit on you by getting your attention by saying hey baby.

Mom: Oh, BEBOT! Yeah, it was never anything but a name to me. There were some girls in my village who were called bebot. It’s just a nickname. Why? What’s wrong with saying bebot?

Me: Nothing, nothing at all mom.

For my mother it served no negative meanings. I wanted to know what my friends in the Philippines thought of the word, so I asked them.

Friend 1: Here in the Philippines, I’d only use bebot for close friends and use it only as a joke. Other than that, I don’t ever want to be called bebot because it’s something that ghetto people here would call chicks… it’s a bit derogatory depending on who uses it.

Friend 2: It’s not really so nice because it doesn’t [connote] respect.

As Grace-Sonia pointed out, a word becomes transformed over time. But it also changes when used in different contexts. In the Philippines, some people may think it is a word disrespecting women. Yet here in the US, bebot doesn’t hold as much power in the negative sense.

So why use bebot? To me, this word is a metaphor for the transnational Filipina. Whatever the original meaning of bebot, it has become transformed and adapted to the culture that it was transplanted to. By cultural definition, I am Filipina. Yet, by US standards, I am every bit an American. My passport is blue, I pay taxes in California, and I vote every four years for president. Yet, this doesn’t make me any less of a Filipina as those who live in the Philippines.

This blog site will help the three of us understand the transformed meaning of Filipino-ness and how identity can be defined by our different experiences, both in the Philippines and here in the US, more particularly, in California.

Do you get where I’m trying to go with this? I sure hope so, because this is all I can say about it.

GSM: My Friend Bebot

This is slightly embarrassing to admit, but until recently, I did not know that "bebot" was a word in Tagalog.

"Bebot," for me, was the name of a fellow Filipina childhood friend. I really looked up to her. She was four years older than me. Somehow she got assigned the unofficial and sometimes unfortunate task of entertaining me and my younger brother at all our parents' parties and get-togethers. "Behhhbot!" I recall her mom calling out to her when we showed up at the door. She would come down the stairs, and lead me and my brother up to her room, where the other kids would be, playing and telling stories. Bebot kept all the kids together, despite our range of ages (my brother and I usually being the youngest) leading games like Simon Says, Red Light Green Light, or Musical Chairs.

It wasn't until the Black Eyed Peas song came out that I learned that "bebot" was a Tagalog word. If you enter the word on Wikipedia, an entry for the song's video comes up, and it explains that the word is "Filipino slang for 'pretty woman', 'hot chick', 'hottie', 'babe', 'baby'." Later, I learned that my friend Bebot's name wasn't really Bebot afterall. It was Emelita. "Bebot" was a term of endearment that her family used for her as the youngest child. (Secret: even though I'm in my thirties, my mom still calls me "Bey," short for "Baby").

I'm not sure which is more embarrassing. Revealing that my mom still calls me Baby, or admitting that I learned what "bebot" means on Wikipedia.

Like many second generation Fil-Ams, I grew up with two languages, Tagalog and English. I did not take classes in Tagalog, so my understanding of the language is limited to familial conversations and is purely contextual. So perhaps I can forgive myself of not knowing a Filipino slang word like "bebot."

However, in any language, words can evolve and change over time. Some words develop, taking on more complicated and nuanced meanings. Also, whether or not one chooses to use a particular term, may be affected by one's environment, education, and experience. And somehow, between the time I was five years old and now, "bebot" had gone from meaning "baby" to "hot chick."

In naming our blog "Musings of a Bebot," with the implication being that me and my colleagues are the "bebots," what does this all mean? In adopting the word "bebot," do we immutably cast ourselves in the diminutive category of "hottie?" Or rather, do we make the word our own, and stretch its definition?

Only time will tell. We're just in the beginnings of launching this blog. And on a personal note, there is still so much I would like to do with my life. It seems premature to define "me" just yet. Perhaps I should take a cue from my old friend Bebot, and simply start with trying to keep all us kids together and being there to lead the games.

derogatory? subversive? or both? hmmm

Why would three grown Fil-Am women entitle their written expressions a slang word that many translate as "baby?" With enough negative images of Filipinas out there, couldn't we instead call this experiment "Musings of a Strong Filipina American" or something along those lines? I mean come on right? Search "Filipina" on Google and what pops up? "Mail order bride" for one. So why add fuel to the fire and use bebot?

If you were to go all creeper status and look up old photos of me, you definitely wouldn't find one of me posing by a rice rocket fulfilling some dude's import model fantasy (an image that "bebot" may conjure up for some). And no, despite my annoyingly squeaky voice, I prefer pitbulls and other large, huggable dogs over toy breeds. But let me stop myself before I end up writing an academic essay about femininity and masculinity, and try to instead explore an aspect of bebot-ism.

When the song "Bebot" by the Black Eyed Peas first came out, community members had mixed reactions... "Yay! We're finally getting mainstream recognition!" "Great, another orientalized portrayal of Pinays." "Woohoo! Tagalog rap!" "Woop dee doo, Filipino stereotypes wrapped into one song."

Hearings were held, letters were written, pickets were picketed(?) and the end result? Grey area. Yep, back to square one of folks disagreeing and no one answer being determined. I see it ending up that way because of the nature and definition of "bebot" itself is in the grey area. It can be both derogatory and subversive, both a source of weakness and strength. Guess which interpretation this blog is taking.

In taking on the monolithic "bebot" and all the connotations attached to it, it is my hope that in some small way, this blog can reshape the image of not only Filipinas but Filipino Americans in general. That through our musings, Fil-Ams will not be seen just as good entertainers and great cooks but also professors, writers, intellectuals and more. (Pictured here are last year's 100 Most Influential Filipina Women in the US.)

And perhaps even more important: that through honest and open self-examination, us not-so-typical bebots out there, get to know ourselves a little better.

Hottie, babe, gorgeous, sexy… a bebot by any other name would still be just as beautiful

Magandang araw everyone! We hope that our first blog posts have enticed you to come back wanting more. It wasn’t difficult for the three of us to come up with an eye-catching (sometimes head scratching) title for our blog site: Musings of a Bebot.

Several of you are probably wondering, what IS a bebot? Aside from that Black Eyed Peas song appropriately titled, “Bebot, “ you’ve never heard of the word. Many of you probably googled the word and are now wondering, why bebot?

Part of our self-discovery begins with why we chose this title. In this second blog posting we’ll deconstruct and examine the who, what, and why of the term. We'll muse on how we chose this term and why it's become a feature in how we blog.

Why is GSM Here?!?

I have an on again/off again relationship with writing, so when the idea of starting a blog dedicated to Filipino American issues came up with my friends/co-workers Beverly and Michelle, I had mixed feelings towards the project. I am usually the first to endorse any creative or artistic pursuit, just as long as it doesn't have anything to do with me.

But then I thought about the great conversations I've had with Beverly, Michelle, and some of my other friends about our experiences growing up Filipino American, and how I usually come away from these casual talks not only feeling a sense of camaraderie, but also feeling like, in that moment, I got to know myself just a little bit better. However, these discussions aren't usually planned. They usually happen sporadically, on a lunch break or in transit on the way home.

Writing/blogging is a way to capture and discuss our thoughts and stories about a worthy topic...ourselves. And for purely selfish reasons, I would like to take some time (time I haven't in the past made for myself) to explore and reflect on my identity, culture, and community.

You see, I grew up in a predominantly white city and neighborhood, and for better or worse, that environment influenced me quite a bit. Like most teens, I made my attempts to conform and rebel at the same time. I had a few Filipino and Asian friends, but for the most part, I was in the land of the white folk. In high school, I did not want to be another "Asian nerd," so I gave up my quest for good grades and college (real smart, eh?). While I did not completely deny my Filipino identity, there weren't many incentives out there (at least none that I acknowledged at the time) for me to embrace it. Needless to say, I feel quite differently nowadays, as I've grown more mature, and have opened my eyes to the richness of my mother culture.

So I thank Beverly and Michelle for inviting me to be a part of this endeavor, and I would like to welcome you here too. Thanks for listening and joining the conversation. Perhaps we can get to know one an other (as well as ourselves) a little bit better.

Bakit Bev?

Bakit/why? Why blog about my Filipina-American experience? I think my response might come out a bit Catch 22-ish because in order for me to really answer why I'm blogging, I have to blog. Michelle, hit the spot though when she said, "What does that mean anyway?" What is this about being Fil-Am? That's what I'm here to muse about and just a heads up but I muse in abstract.

As a 1.5 generation immigrant, I've always felt in limbo. I know, "limbo" has a lot of connotations but the one I'm tinkering with here is the feeling of being in between: in between where, when, and who.

In between where? I was born in the Philippines and came over Stateside when I was seven. I've never really felt like I was a citizen or belonged to either chunks of land but my papers said different. Up until I was in my early 20s I was a citizen of the Philippines, then after some paperwork, *poof* I am now a citizen of the U.S. It was seamless on paper but the feeling of being in between two places stays with me.

In between when? Seven years old seems like such a long time ago. Yet at the same time it seems like only yesterday because I can still hear the jeepneys passing by and I can still smell the palengkes/public markets of the streets of Olongapo. The memories of my short time in the Philippines are sometimes more clear than my memories of growing up in California. Yes, after a certain age my memories of here are more concrete but I always wonder why those early years seem like a blur. I wonder why even though I've spent most of my adult life here, I refer to my childhood there so much more.

In between who? I've been blessed with a wonderful family and true friends. One would think I would stay put being so lucky but I find myself being a nomad. Is it because I'm eclectic (nice word for indecisive) and I tend to float around? Not too sure about it myself but no matter how close I am to a bunch of folks, I've always felt like the odd ball. Could just be a case of the "teens" though but I figure I would be over that by now right?

So why bring this whole limbo business up?

I blog here, about my Fil-Am experiences, and with these two badass Fil-Am women because it situates me and the limbo butterflies in my tummy ease up. This blog is a space where three Fil-Ams, with totally different backgrounds connect on some not-easily-explained level. It's not easily explained but it's there and if we can spread this funky (in a good way) connection, then why not?

Hope you'll keep coming back to connect with us.

Michelle's Musings on this blog site

This blog site began as an idea lolling around in my head for several years. How could I capture the Filipino-American experience? What does that mean anyway? Like many ideas it was rough and not fully formed, it was a jumbled mess of ambitious starts and disappointing dead ends. Often I would tinker with the thought of writing a short story, compiling an essay, or interviewing Filipinos with a distinctly American experience. Most of the time, I pushed that idea aside. Occasionally, when I would visit my grandma or attend a Filipino-styled party, the idea would peek its head out at me and beckon me to mold it into something more. As always, I’d brush it off.

Last year I went off on a trip to Taiwan to study and perfect my Chinese. Don’t ask why I did it, that’s a whole different story.

While in Taiwan, I ate, lived, and breathed Chinese/Taiwanese language and culture. There I established a small barkada (group of friends), the majority of them hailing from the Philippines. They reminded me of my childhood friends and opened up a part of me longing to relate to their lives. With their encouragement, I booked a $100 round trip ticket to the Philippines… my first time. I suppose you could call it a pilgrimage to my homeland. But, it wasn’t that at all. I had my sights set on eating as much Filipino food I could, while sunning on the pristine beaches of Palawan, occasionally snapping a picture or two of historic sights and ogling the locals.

And, like my nagging Filipino mother, the idea of writing about my Filipino-American life emerged once again. Right there. I think it was when I met my uncle for the very first time and felt ashamed that I couldn’t speak a single word of his dialect. Or was it when the concierge at the Palawan inn I stayed at tried to ask me about myself in Tagalog and I could only pretend I understood what she said. Perhaps it was when I made that first step on Philippine soil and felt like a traitor for waiting so long to make that trip. How awkward it was to be an American in the PI… and the locals all knew it by the way I dressed, moved, and stuttered.

That idea emerged full force refusing to go back to that cluttered mess in the back of my mind. Either I was going to find a way to creatively express the Filipino American experience – both good and bad – or it was going to nag at me until I went crazy. I thought, why not write about all these awkward experiences, both in the Philippines on that one trip and here in the US.

This blog site serves as an outlet for me to work out how I felt about those awkward moments. I spent the first half of my life miserably aware that the color of my skin and my socio-economic status didn’t match the skin tone and wealth of my friends and heroes. The second half of my life was spent successfully in oblivion to Filipino culture and tradition. My visit to my mom’s home and the country she spent her childhood solidified my desire to figure out what it means to be ethnically Filipino but culturally American.

I hope that these blog topics and posts will allow me to personally explore and become more open to the Filipino parts of myself and reconcile them with the American parts. I hate it that I pushed the boisterous heritage side away, while I embraced American individualistic ideals. I really missed out on what it meant to be part of that Filipino community, a community that didn’t even notice that I was absent.

So one day at work, I pitched my roughly formed idea to Grace-Sonia and Beverly. Instead of laughing, the more I discussed it with them, the more they became enthusiastic to become part of this experiment to shape and define that idea. We met a couple of times and this blog site became the final product.

The idea is still forming.

Let me know what you think.

Why We Blog

Hello out there! Thanks for dropping by and musing with us. We figure if two heads are better than one, then it must be exponentially better the more folks join us on this journey! So thank you and welcome! Scroll down to learn a little bit about us and feel free to leave a comment to tell us a little bit about yourself. We'd love to hear from you!

As we get our feet wet and try to get a better feel of how to go about this journey of self discovery (for lack of a better phrase), we'll be posting a new topic every two weeks. Each of us will post our individual, and most probably different yet somehow connected, responses to these topics as short blurbs, photos, videos, and whatever other media we fancy will help us share our stories with you. Excited yet? We are!

So why are we blogging about our Fil-Am experiences anyway?! The three of us have a common bond when it comes to Fil-Am culture but recall different experiences and reactions to similar situations. We’d like to explore these experiences and reactions together...