What if I stayed in the Philippines? An Introspective Take on what Life Could’ve Been

1st Entry to Curiosity.

This category will be dedicated to questions I have that don’t and/or won’t necessarily have concrete answers.

Whenever I’m curious about something, I tend to do as much research as I can until I’m fully satisfied with the results OR think about every scenario possible until I feel that I’ve imagined it as realistically as I possibly could.

I will begin with one of the more serious, deeper, and really personal pieces I will publish.

 

What if I stayed in the Philippines?

This year will mark the 10th year that I’ve been in the United States, having visited the Philippines a grand total of 0 times ever since.

With that in mind, I thought that there is no more fitting topic than to wonder… what if I stayed in the Philippines? How different would my life be? Who would I be?

An introspective take backed by facts and logic, filled with just the right of emotions, here’s what I speculate my life would’ve been like if I stayed…

 

On April 10, 2010, we left our house in 35 San Lorenzo Street just before the clock struck 12pm, getting picked up by my mom’s friends—all of whom have yet to see us again—to take us to Ninoy Aquino International Airport in time for our 7pm flight to LAX. In the moment, I didn’t fully understand what it meant. I was just excited because it was going to be my first time stepping foot inside a plane. I was just excited because I was going to visit a different country for the first time in my life. I was just excited because I will finally get the opportunity to try and speak some of the English that I learned in school because my family refused to speak it at home. Most of all, I was just excited to see my dad, who I haven’t seen in a year. Unbeknownst to me at the time, “on time” for my mom meant being 6 hours early. My excitement was put on hold. We killed time in the lounge by taking pictures… Here’s a couple taken at the airport:

 

Alongside my mom, brother, and sister, the first step we took towards our journey for a new life in America was also the last step we took to leave life as we knew it in the Philippines.

 

BUT… if April 10, 2010 was just another day, then…

 

We would’ve celebrated my uncle’s birthday with all of our family from my mom’s side. Maybe we would’ve gone to the mall. Maybe we would’ve shared a feast. I just know for a fact it would’ve been fun.

 

I would’ve spent that summer (summer in the Philippines is from March to May) playing in summer basketball leagues in both my neighborhood and in San Juan, where my grandma lived.

 

I would’ve finished my elementary education in the Catholic school that I’ve been enrolled in since I started 1st grade. I would’ve kept my “duty” as an altar boy to finish elementary, occasionally waking up at 4am to serve in the 5am mass. During this school year, I probably would’ve gotten closer to the same friends I’ve had since I was in 2nd grade.

 

After 6th grade, I would’ve moved on to high school as 7th and 8th grade didn’t exist yet at the time in the Philippines. I have no idea which high school I would’ve gone to or what I would’ve experienced. This is something that I couldn’t speculate no matter how hard I tried. I doubt it’ll be anywhere near to my actual high school experience.

 

During high school, however, I speculate that maybe I would’ve branched out from my current friend group and made more friends. Or maybe I would’ve stayed with the same friend group and used that time as an opportunity to establish deeper roots for our pre-existing friendship. Maybe I would’ve done both. I’d like to think that I would’ve figured out what I want to study in college during these four years as well, like I actually did. During the crucial years of my adolescence, I’m not so sure how everything would’ve unfolded.

 

Although it’s tough to think about trivial things that could’ve happened during those years in the Philippines—like what I would’ve experienced in high school—I can confidently say that I know what significant events would have occurred.

 

I probably would’ve grew closer to some of my cousins from both sides of the family, but definitely my mom’s more than my dad’s. It would’ve been fun to mature alongside my cousin as he matures himself from a child to the teenager that he is now. I also would’ve cherished witnessing and being there for my baby cousin, who I haven’t had the opportunity to meet, as he grows through the different stages of childhood.

 

From ages 11-20, I know I would’ve spent as much time as I could with my grandmother. As a kid, I slept over her house on weekends where she would make me iced Ovaltine drinks before I sleep. She made me like Ovaltine over Milo (the drink in our house) because somehow, she made it better than my mom did (I think it’s because, one, she would put hot water first to melt the cocoa powder then she’d put milk instead of water, and two, she put a lot of sugar in it and as a kid, sugar tasted like the best ingredient ever). She would sew me clothes to wear. She would watch me while I play outside. She would buy me what I want to eat. Most importantly, for Christmas and my birthday, she would give me 500 pesos while my brother would get 100, my sister 50, and my cousin 20. She was my favorite because I was her favorite. She made me feel so special because she spoiled me. And I appreciated it.

 

Since I haven’t been back since, the opportunity for me to spend time with her and get to know her as I’m growing up has passed. Everything that I want to do will now just be a dream that I wish I could live. By this time now, I could’ve been returning the favor and spoiling her as much as I can because I know she would’ve kept spoiling me growing up as much as she could. I’m somewhat jealous of my cousin because he got to spend more time with her. I wish I could’ve seen her one last time. So many wishes that I know would’ve become milestones had April 10, 2010 just became another date.

 

On the other hand, having the opportunity to grow up with my grandma would’ve meant growing up without my father in the picture. The nucleus of my family would’ve been reduced to four members. This would’ve been tough. Growing up, I idolized my dad. I used to get nervous watching him play basketball as a kid, especially during the final minutes of close games. He was always calm however, as if things were always under his control. Looking back, it seemingly was. For all of the years I watched him play, I only remember him losing once. As a result, now, I don’t really get nervous about anything. I felt so proud to know that he wore #3 because of me. He also used to tell me all the time that “if there’s a will, there’s a way and if not, there’s always excuses”. It’s now something that I live with. I played basketball because I wanted to be just like him. If we stayed, I only would’ve gotten to know him through texts, phone calls, an occasional video chat, maybe, and materialistic things, like shoes and money.

 

As a result of this, I would’ve been much closer to my mother as she would’ve been the only one there during the most crucial time of my growing phase. With my dad no longer in the picture, I probably would’ve fully dedicated myself to becoming just like him,  continuing to focus solely on basketball to try and make him proud from afar. With just impressing my father via basketball in my mind, I don’t know how well-rounded I would’ve been as a human being. That goal would have consumed me as an adolescent and I probably would have prioritized his approval over anything else. It would’ve been unhealthy. I’m glad that didn’t happen.

 

The following are speculations that I’d like to think wouldn’t have happened but can’t help but acknowledge—especially with this quote in mind: “Stated in the words of a famous criminologist, “When men first come into contact with crime, they abhor it. If they remain in contact with crime for a time, they become accustomed to it, and endure it. If they remain in contact with it long enough, they finally embrace it, and become influenced by it”.

 

• Maybe I would’ve been a dad very early. Since some of my cousins entered fatherhood very early in their lives. I don’t think it’s a far-fetched idea that I can have a baby of my own right now, especially if I surrounded myself with them. It’s crazy to think, given where I’m at now both physically and mentally, but it wouldn’t be as crazy if I stayed.
• Maybe my dad would’ve made himself a second life. A decade is a long time. I know people who’ve done much more with much less. Having some half-siblings that I wouldn’t know about is something that I think could’ve happened.
• Maybe I wouldn’t be striving so much to get as much as I want out of life. Growing up, the only role model I looked up to was my dad, and that was just mainly because of basketball. The only book I was told to read was the Bible. With a not-so-good environment in the Philippines, maybe I would’ve been content with just a simple life. My eyes wouldn’t have been opened to everything else that’s out there.
• Maybe I would’ve been reliant and dependent on my family—for money, for advice, for approval, for acceptance—for everything. With the collectivistic culture of the Philippines, everything that I would’ve been interested in has to have some connection that will be for the greater good of the family and will somehow benefit everybody.

 

So many thoughts shared, with as much, if not more, that I decided to keep to myself.

 

Without a doubt, if I stayed in the Philippines, I wouldn’t be who I am now.

 

Being in America guided me to gain emotional autonomy. Throughout the course of the past 10 years, I realized that I no longer want to be just like my dad. I want to be better. I can be better. Instead of basketball serving as the measuring stick of my identity, it became the birthplace of some of my closest friendships. 

 

Being in America opened me to the endless possibilities that are available for me to experience in my lifetime. This country convinced me that I have the power to manifest my own destiny. There are a lot of things that I’m doing now that I know is only possible because I put myself in positions where they can be.

 

Being in America enabled me to become independent and empowered me to educate and enrich myself the way I see fit, without ever considering how others will react. I’ve been “self-sufficient” since I was 17 years old, something that I doubt would’ve happened if I stayed in the Philippines. Approaching 21 years of age, I know I wouldn’t be anywhere near where I am now— professionally, mentally, and emotionally—had I stayed.

 

Being in America has taught me plenty and I’m excited to learn the plentiful rest I know it has left to offer.

I’ve met great, inspiring, and influential people here. I can’t wait to meet many more.

 

Leaving the Philippines for the United States opened up bountiful opportunities that’s given me plenty of varying life experiences, all of which has done wonders for me.

 

The things I’ve experienced from leaving thus far has outweighed all of the things I could’ve experienced by staying.

 

My only regret is missing out on the opportunity to get to know my grandmother.

Unfortunately, life comes with the good and the not so good, no exceptions granted.

 

I’m thankful for my parents for deciding to leave, for taking the risk, and for letting me be me.

I’m thankful for all of the people I’ve met that’s helped shape my life one way or another.

Most of all, I’m thankful for all of the opportunities available to me.

 

We left on April 10, 2010. We arrived on April 10, 2010. We left and arrived on the same date but we left and arrived at two very different lives.

 

It feels good knowing that who I am is much better than who I could’ve been.

 

Nonetheless, I can’t wait to go back and visit… I think it’s time.