Bahamas Chronicles, pt. 2 - Filipinos in the Bahamas (well, besides me)
"Ya'll people fan out like nobody's business."
That's what P said as we waited for our order at Little Philippines Restaurant, in downtown Nassau, Bahamas.
The proprietor, Lorna, was like an auntie but I don't think she took me for a Filipino when I walked in. Maybe its because I was dressed a little different? Or because my friend was with me? Anyways, I pulled out my rough but still admirable-for-the-effort Tagalog to verify my card carrying-status.
If my po-smattered conversation didn't give it away, then surely my order would. No foreigner would walk into a Filipino restaurant... ok, well. No foreigner would walk into a Filipino restaurant period. But really, no foreigner would walk into a Filipino restaurant and put down the following order:
- Dinuguan
- Pinakbet
- Pork Adobo
- Kare-Kare
- Caldereta ng Kambing
Shortly after ordering, the Bahamanian waiter informs us "WE DYON'T HYAVE ANEH MORE DINU-GWAN." P says "I guess the shipment of pig's blood didn't come in today."
Furthermore, they don't have any Caldereta either, probably because there wasn't a goat that day.
What there was, was a lot of rice. Mounds and mounds of it. And karaoke. Mounds and mounds of it.
Group by group, Filipinos began to pile into Little Philippines. Lorna whispered to me, "They work on the cruise ship and today is their last day here. Last night, they were singing karaoke until 4am." Evidently, these Filipinos were just waking up, because as we were eating our lunch, they were feasting on Tapsilog and Sinangag.
Leave it to P and I, who like to think we're a little more informed and educated than the average joe, to have a conversation about ethnic people in the diaspora, globalization, the worldwide export of labour, brain drains and shriveling 3rd economies. While we eat our pork, which by the way, is slave food - check your history.
For me, it was surreal to be in a Filipino restaurant, eating Filipino food and singing Filipino karaoke songs with real-life Filipinos --- in the Bahamas, of all places. As amusing the idea was to me, I didn't bask in it long enough to forget that these Filipinos were Overseas Contract Workers, many of whom had left their families in order to work and provide money through remittance.
This small restaurant was their only connection to home.
One by one, they came in. And they all seemed to know each other as evidenced by the patented Filipino head-nod salutation. No head nod to me, though. I guess I didn't come across as Filipino to them either.
Didn't matter that we were heaping the bagoong on our food like it was going out of style.
By the time night fell, the Filipinos were all up in the club, partying with the best of them. Determined to at least be acknowledged, I said what's up to some of my brethren. A few of them were from my mom's province. One girl who was from Manila, told me that she had a cousin in Toronto and do I know her (I didn't),and that she'd always wanted to visit Canada, but could never afford it.
All this said while we both dropped stacks of green bills at the bar, not thinking where we came from and how we got here.
That's what P said as we waited for our order at Little Philippines Restaurant, in downtown Nassau, Bahamas.
The proprietor, Lorna, was like an auntie but I don't think she took me for a Filipino when I walked in. Maybe its because I was dressed a little different? Or because my friend was with me? Anyways, I pulled out my rough but still admirable-for-the-effort Tagalog to verify my card carrying-status.
If my po-smattered conversation didn't give it away, then surely my order would. No foreigner would walk into a Filipino restaurant... ok, well. No foreigner would walk into a Filipino restaurant period. But really, no foreigner would walk into a Filipino restaurant and put down the following order:
- Dinuguan
- Pinakbet
- Pork Adobo
- Kare-Kare
- Caldereta ng Kambing
Shortly after ordering, the Bahamanian waiter informs us "WE DYON'T HYAVE ANEH MORE DINU-GWAN." P says "I guess the shipment of pig's blood didn't come in today."
Furthermore, they don't have any Caldereta either, probably because there wasn't a goat that day.
What there was, was a lot of rice. Mounds and mounds of it. And karaoke. Mounds and mounds of it.
Group by group, Filipinos began to pile into Little Philippines. Lorna whispered to me, "They work on the cruise ship and today is their last day here. Last night, they were singing karaoke until 4am." Evidently, these Filipinos were just waking up, because as we were eating our lunch, they were feasting on Tapsilog and Sinangag.
Leave it to P and I, who like to think we're a little more informed and educated than the average joe, to have a conversation about ethnic people in the diaspora, globalization, the worldwide export of labour, brain drains and shriveling 3rd economies. While we eat our pork, which by the way, is slave food - check your history.
For me, it was surreal to be in a Filipino restaurant, eating Filipino food and singing Filipino karaoke songs with real-life Filipinos --- in the Bahamas, of all places. As amusing the idea was to me, I didn't bask in it long enough to forget that these Filipinos were Overseas Contract Workers, many of whom had left their families in order to work and provide money through remittance.
This small restaurant was their only connection to home.
One by one, they came in. And they all seemed to know each other as evidenced by the patented Filipino head-nod salutation. No head nod to me, though. I guess I didn't come across as Filipino to them either.
Didn't matter that we were heaping the bagoong on our food like it was going out of style.
By the time night fell, the Filipinos were all up in the club, partying with the best of them. Determined to at least be acknowledged, I said what's up to some of my brethren. A few of them were from my mom's province. One girl who was from Manila, told me that she had a cousin in Toronto and do I know her (I didn't),and that she'd always wanted to visit Canada, but could never afford it.
All this said while we both dropped stacks of green bills at the bar, not thinking where we came from and how we got here.