Coming (Back) To America

I am an accidental American.

Born in Buffalo, NY to newlyweds, I had little to do with my much sought-after citizenship and passport. What happened was this - I was a honeymoon baby who came sooner than planned. My parents were married in December and headed for the US in the June that followed because my Spanish-Filipino father was to do his MBA at the State University of NY, Buffalo campus. The plan made sense, Papa would complete his degree than Mama would follow. But life has a funny way of working, and soon after a bitter upstate New York winter in a basement apartment, my parents decided it was time to head back to the Philippines. This is where I grew up.

Growing up in the Philippines was wonderful! Like most countries in Asia, the Philippines was invaded by China and Japan early in its history. However, the Spanish and Americans also invaded the Philippines in recent history, making it uniquely Westernized. Filipino culture is therefore a most diverse culture. As a result of this diversity, I was raised with an European-Asian awareness. I spoke Spanish to my Nana, English to my Mama and Filipino to my 'yaya' (nanny). I was schooled by German nuns in a progressive school focused on the holistic development of a woman. Being American-born and then raised in the Philippines has also put me uniquely in tune with America. The Philippine educational system is patterned after the American system, the pop culture is very American and in fact I grew up with Sesame Street and Dr. Seuss as key influences. But America was a place I knew only as a tourist, from a distance.

The idea of coming to America persisted through different points in my life. I had thought about coming for college, but I was sixteen and convent-schooled so my parents worried it would be too much. I thought about it again after college, but I immediately found a job I enjoyed in the Philippines so I decided to stay. Again, I revisited the idea in my last twenties. I even went on a few job interviews while on my yearly New York trip. But my company gave me an Asia Pacific posting, moved me to Singapore then Bangkok and gave me a job that covered the region from Japan through India. How could I possibly leave that?

Finally in March of 2007 , after thirty-six years of being an American overseas, it was time to come to America. Or should I say come back? I...

• Quit my job
• Moved out of a very comfortable and roomy flat
• Left a pretty successful Asia Pacific career
• Sold most of my belongings
• Put my art, carpets, favorite pieces of Asian furniture and my grandmother's China in storage; and
  
• Headed for JFK with only the clothes and shoes I could carry with me on the plane and the books that would fit in a box that the post office would accept.

My birthplace is a country I do not know, I have come back to get to know America.