The Visiting Relative

It was all reminiscent of the excitement we felt when I was a kid back home in Manila and my aunt, the Balikbayan, would visit back home and open her boxes and suitcases full of goodies. We would sniff out the air for that “Stateside” smell. It was almost comical that now I am sniffing the air for traces of Manila scent: the distinct smell of new clothes, food wrapped in plastic bags, Safeguard soap (the kind made in the Philippines) clinging to clothing, and even that usually offending odor of sun-dried fish daing or tuyo.

She was only staying for three days and we crammed all the activities we can muster to show her the best of Chicago. The blessing of her visit was that we were seeing our life through different eyes. After seven years of building a home and family life, we had settled into a routine. There is a saying here in America that will never be worn out as a cliché, Time is money and money is time. We work and work, and sometimes still never content. Here was our cousin who knew what we sometimes forget, that everything is a blessing: the water that runs in our dependable plumbing system; the vehicles we deemed as necessity but is a luxury in the Philippines; the moving traffic; the stuff we can buy at Wal-Mart; genuine sale prices; the clean air we breathe. And so much more. Our lifestyle here is blessed and sadly for most Filipinos, more than what can be hoped for if we are living back in the Philippines. Unless, of course, your last name is Zobel, or Ayala, or Lhuillier, or…..but it is not.

We bade our cousin farewell as scheduled. It was quick and abrupt as we can no longer linger as Filipinos fondly do in airport terminals. And when she left, we felt a kind of longing that we often try to quell at its onset. We would like to ignore this ache that can only be remedied by walking those dusty roads, and baking in that sun, and breathing that, yes, less than aromatic air in Manila.

Go To Page: 1 2