The lovechild of a thorny relationship
As a young boy who was born in Metro Manila, I remembered going into China Town. Walking around and seeing people lighting incense. I thought it was cool and asked my mother what were they doing. Long story short, I learned that I was part Chinese but we never really practiced any of the Chinese traditions like lighting incense during Chinese new year. As I grew up, despite having nothing to support me being Chinese but my blood, I yearned to be one with the Chinese. I only learned some Mandarin when I was really young because it was part of the curriculum. I was happy to be learning how to count in Mandarin before, but I soon forgot how to speak the language altogether. Currently, I try not to associate myself with the Chinese because of all the issues arising. And I want to be known as a Filipino. As someone that wishes to be regarded to as a Filipino, I can’t argue with the fact that me being part Chinese does have some benefits, benefits that regular Filipinos won’t receive. As I was growing up, I would see the change in facial expressions and how the mainland Chinese would treat me once I told them I am part Chinese. They won’t be rude to me and whatnot. And in a group of Filipino, the Chinese would usually only converse with me for I am part Chinese. As much as I am grateful for the special treatment I get at times. I hate the discrimination happening to my own people. I hate that the Filipino has to accommodate our own land to these rude Chinese people. but nevertheless, here I am, a Chinoy just getting by and trying to stay away from all the issues of politics and nationality.
“ANG HINDI MAGMAHAL SA SARILING WIKA AY HIGIT SA HAYOP AT MALANSANG ISDA; KAYA ATING PAGYAMANING KUSA, GAYA NG INANG SA ATIN AY NAGPALA.”