Last week I was watching House M.D. and laughed at the scene where House arrives at the apartment, looking at the newly designed interior. He tells Wilson the style is not his, saying dryly, "Don't let anyone define you." He then turns, sees something covered with a sheet, peers inside and finds a Hammond organ. He looks at Wilson with something like awe and gets lost playing it. Oh but he'll be the first one to say he's not defined by anyone. Typical House!
Again, this is a testament to my awesome childhood when it was filled with games and books and learning. Favorite Dr. Seuss book: Are You My Mother? Favorite board game: Scrabble (sorry, Monopoly) Favorite interactive game: Operation Favorite Sesame Street character: Grover Favorite girly game: paper dolls Favorite boy game: I dunno... running around until you're sweaty? Favorite fairy tale: The Little Mermaid (the original version where she beceomes seafoam in the end. Maybe this is why I like sad stories and songs) Favorite Disney story: The Jungle Book, Lady and the Tramp (with the famous spaghetti kiss), and Bedknobs and Broomsticks Favorite young adult story: Little Women/ Little Men Favorite TV show: Bionic Woman Favorite Japanese cartoon: Voltes V Favorite thing to do when it's cold: have a bonfire with my cousins Favorite thing to do when it's raining: eat champorado (chocolate rice) and read a book Favorite thing to do in the summer: hike and have a picnic Favorite video game: Pong and Galaxian Favorite Game and Watch game: Octopus Favorite Crayola color: cornflower blue Favorite pop-up book: The Gingerbread Man
The city where I was born is a famous resort destination in the Philippines. It was built by Americans whose names are memorialized everywhere: Burnham Park, Kennon Road, Camp John Hay, Melvin Jones Grandstand, Governor Pack Road. The city of Baguio was meant as a rest and recreation (or R & R) area for American military personnel, but because of its year-long mild weather, it became a place everyone could enjoy, hence its designation as the Summer Capital of the Philippines.
I remember when I first came to Seattle, a mother with two kids in tow, not young or old by anyone's standards. I didn't know what to expect but I had that surreal feeling of "coming home". It could have been because my children and I were finally going to be reunited with my husband after many years. In my heart, additionally, I knew it was because Seattle was just like Baguio in many ways. Weather-wise the two could be described as cool, if not rainy. In temperament, they are absolute twins: green urban areas with a stubborn suburban feel, where "downtown" is never "uptown", filled with places and delicious memories from childhood. And the people? You couldn't find a larger concentration of the nicest, wisest, most loving ones on earth, as they are there and here. Maybe that's why as immigrants my family and I did not have any culture shock at all, but seamlessly and immediately blended into life just as our new-found friends welcomed us as their own.
Everyone knows it's hard to describe home. And really, home is not something bound by geographical territories or tied to certain people and races and points in time. It's not just a place of residence or abode, just as a house encloses physically, basically, necessarily.
Like a well-worn cliche, home is where the heart is. I miss my hometown terribly, but I am content knowing that although my heart yearns, and longs, to go back, I don't need to go because I never really left. Baguio may be a million miles away, but to me Baguio is here in Seattle, endlessly cherished and nurtured by my dreams.
The city where I was born is a famous resort destination in the Philippines. It was built by Americans whose names are memorialized everywhere: Burnham Park, Kennon Road, Camp John Hay, Melvin Jones Grandstand, Governor Pack Road. The city of Baguio was meant as a rest and recreation (or R & R) area for American military personnel, but because of its year-long mild weather, it became a place everyone could enjoy, hence its designation as the Summer Capital of the Philippines. 
I remember when I first came to Seattle, a mother with two kids in tow, not young or old by anyone's standards. I didn't know what to expect but I had that surreal feeling of "coming home". It could have been because my children and I were finally going to be reunited with my husband after many years. In my heart, additionally, I knew it was because Seattle was just like Baguio in many ways. Weather-wise the two could be described as cool, if not rainy. In temperament, they are absolute twins: green urban areas with a stubborn suburban feel, where "downtown" is never "uptown", filled with places and delicious memories from childhood. And the people? You couldn't find a larger concentration of the nicest, wisest, most loving ones on earth, as they are there and here. Maybe that's why as immigrants my family and I did not have any culture shock at all, but seamlessly and immediately blended into life just as our new-found friends welcomed us as their own.
