Journey Up North
I recently sent out an email to a friend with this story. Part 1 of my Journey Up North.
Hmm.. where do I start? Well, matagal na rin talaga gusto ni papa na dalhin kami abroad. Ever since we were little there were plans to bring us to the States, Canada or Australia in order to study. Siyempre maganda ang buhay sa Pilipinas if u're financially stable, and fortunately, we were. Pero gusto talaga ni papa na mag-aral kami abroad. The advantages are pretty obvious, I mean there will always be this perception that a foreign education is superior to local education, which of course, isn't always true. What gave my pop the idea to bring us to Canada was the mom of one of my classmates in Southridge who came from Canada. Hearing utopian stories about this place got my dad going, so we applied and fortunately we were accepted. Anyways, after my freshman year and kuya's last in PSHS about 7 or 8 years ago, we went here to Canada and lived at an apartment in Mississauga which is a city suburb just outside of Toronto. To say the truth, I was reluctant to go. I knew the purpose of our leaving the Philippines and I did think it was important, pero siyempre, being a teener who had just formed strong bonds with my classmates in 1st year, I knew I would be missing out on other important things. Nontheless, I tried hiding my displeasure, albeit unsucessfully. When we arrived here it was actually summer sa Pinas, so there was still school here. I remember my first day at school. I was entering Grade 9 which is equivalent to 1st year high sa Pinas. When I walked into the school, I was wearing a green sweater while everyone else was wearing a blue vest which kinda annoyed me. The first thing that hit me was that everyone was so damn big! I was like, am I in the right place?? What are all these genetically engineered people doing here!? Well, I was led to the classroom and like any first day in school I was the curious sighting of the day. As I was being introduced to the class, I had that sick feeling one usually feels in those ackward situations, and it wasn't helping that the clothes I was wearing were exaclty opposite in color to those being worn by my new classmates. I think the first person that talked to me was this black girl named Ramona. She asked me where I was from and asked me about my school in the Philippines. I don't really remember what I exactly said but I was surprised when her reply to one of my answers was : "Are you serious!!??" Sa loob loob ko, "Serious!? Siyempre seryoso ako, ano akala mo niloloko lang kita!?" That was the moment I realized that I was in a different part of the world, and that what people would say could seem awfully weird to me, but perfectly normal to them. I promptly took note of this, but I fell into the trap again. A few moments later I asked where the "comfort room" was but people didn't understand me. I was like "Ang bopol naman ng mga 'to. Comfort room lang hindi alam. Teka muna..." Then it hit me again! So I began blurting out synonyms for "comfort room" that I hoped would clear things up. "Umm.. ok... let me rephrase that. Do you know where the restroom is?" "No? Then how 'bout the bathroom?" "No? Umm, the lavatory?" "Ok ok, the washroom!!?!?!?!" ..... OH! THE WASHROOM! WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY THAT SOONER??? .. Sigh. And that was the end of that episode. Fortunately, I was introduced to some Filipinos on that day. They were nice people but I still wasn't used to that distinct Canadian attitude or expression, so I didn't really warm up to them easily. After lunch, I had a class in science. The teacher asked me to try answering a test which they did a few days back in order to gauge my general science knowledge. I passed despite not knowing certain topics and my teacher was pleasantly surprised and impressed. In all honesty, a grade schooler could have done that test. All it required was a little common sense. Finally, the last class came and I was ready to go home. One of my classmates in that class was a Filipino who acted tough like he was from the ghetto. I'm sure you know what i'm talking about. Seeing the opportunity to take advantage of the new little guy in school, he asked me for something, I think it was a pen or some money I can't really remember. I refused because I didn't have what he was asking for and he started giving me hints that he would give me some serious whooping, or at least that's how he came across to me. See the ironic thing about this was that this guy was a Filipino. Not a bacon yet, nakakatagalog pa nga at talagang ugaling Pilipino. So I was a bit flabbergasted at the chilly treatment i was getting. At the time I was stressed, pissed and ready to beat someone up, so I said "Ok, you want to fight. Come on, let's go. [swear word] [swear word] [bleep] [bleep] ..." You get the picture. To my amazement he backed off and left the classroom. That was another lesson I learned, that in Canada, a lot of people are talk. Puro sindak, pero pag binalikan mo, biglang bumabait. I had other similar episodes like that against othe people of color (ie. black dudes) but that'll be for next time. And so, that was my first day at school here in Canada, the beginning an ongoing, uncertain yet exciting journey.
Hmm.. where do I start? Well, matagal na rin talaga gusto ni papa na dalhin kami abroad. Ever since we were little there were plans to bring us to the States, Canada or Australia in order to study. Siyempre maganda ang buhay sa Pilipinas if u're financially stable, and fortunately, we were. Pero gusto talaga ni papa na mag-aral kami abroad. The advantages are pretty obvious, I mean there will always be this perception that a foreign education is superior to local education, which of course, isn't always true. What gave my pop the idea to bring us to Canada was the mom of one of my classmates in Southridge who came from Canada. Hearing utopian stories about this place got my dad going, so we applied and fortunately we were accepted. Anyways, after my freshman year and kuya's last in PSHS about 7 or 8 years ago, we went here to Canada and lived at an apartment in Mississauga which is a city suburb just outside of Toronto. To say the truth, I was reluctant to go. I knew the purpose of our leaving the Philippines and I did think it was important, pero siyempre, being a teener who had just formed strong bonds with my classmates in 1st year, I knew I would be missing out on other important things. Nontheless, I tried hiding my displeasure, albeit unsucessfully. When we arrived here it was actually summer sa Pinas, so there was still school here. I remember my first day at school. I was entering Grade 9 which is equivalent to 1st year high sa Pinas. When I walked into the school, I was wearing a green sweater while everyone else was wearing a blue vest which kinda annoyed me. The first thing that hit me was that everyone was so damn big! I was like, am I in the right place?? What are all these genetically engineered people doing here!? Well, I was led to the classroom and like any first day in school I was the curious sighting of the day. As I was being introduced to the class, I had that sick feeling one usually feels in those ackward situations, and it wasn't helping that the clothes I was wearing were exaclty opposite in color to those being worn by my new classmates. I think the first person that talked to me was this black girl named Ramona. She asked me where I was from and asked me about my school in the Philippines. I don't really remember what I exactly said but I was surprised when her reply to one of my answers was : "Are you serious!!??" Sa loob loob ko, "Serious!? Siyempre seryoso ako, ano akala mo niloloko lang kita!?" That was the moment I realized that I was in a different part of the world, and that what people would say could seem awfully weird to me, but perfectly normal to them. I promptly took note of this, but I fell into the trap again. A few moments later I asked where the "comfort room" was but people didn't understand me. I was like "Ang bopol naman ng mga 'to. Comfort room lang hindi alam. Teka muna..." Then it hit me again! So I began blurting out synonyms for "comfort room" that I hoped would clear things up. "Umm.. ok... let me rephrase that. Do you know where the restroom is?" "No? Then how 'bout the bathroom?" "No? Umm, the lavatory?" "Ok ok, the washroom!!?!?!?!" ..... OH! THE WASHROOM! WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY THAT SOONER??? .. Sigh. And that was the end of that episode. Fortunately, I was introduced to some Filipinos on that day. They were nice people but I still wasn't used to that distinct Canadian attitude or expression, so I didn't really warm up to them easily. After lunch, I had a class in science. The teacher asked me to try answering a test which they did a few days back in order to gauge my general science knowledge. I passed despite not knowing certain topics and my teacher was pleasantly surprised and impressed. In all honesty, a grade schooler could have done that test. All it required was a little common sense. Finally, the last class came and I was ready to go home. One of my classmates in that class was a Filipino who acted tough like he was from the ghetto. I'm sure you know what i'm talking about. Seeing the opportunity to take advantage of the new little guy in school, he asked me for something, I think it was a pen or some money I can't really remember. I refused because I didn't have what he was asking for and he started giving me hints that he would give me some serious whooping, or at least that's how he came across to me. See the ironic thing about this was that this guy was a Filipino. Not a bacon yet, nakakatagalog pa nga at talagang ugaling Pilipino. So I was a bit flabbergasted at the chilly treatment i was getting. At the time I was stressed, pissed and ready to beat someone up, so I said "Ok, you want to fight. Come on, let's go. [swear word] [swear word] [bleep] [bleep] ..." You get the picture. To my amazement he backed off and left the classroom. That was another lesson I learned, that in Canada, a lot of people are talk. Puro sindak, pero pag binalikan mo, biglang bumabait. I had other similar episodes like that against othe people of color (ie. black dudes) but that'll be for next time. And so, that was my first day at school here in Canada, the beginning an ongoing, uncertain yet exciting journey.
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