I had what you might call a simple, very Filipino childhood.

Growing up, the internet was non-existent so playing piko & patintero, and going on picnics at Parks & Wildlife was probably the equivalent of social media. Apples, grapes, and oranges were considered “special” treats because tropical fruits like lanzones, makopa (wax apple), and duhat (black palm) were the inexpensive accessible options – in fact, they grew in our backyard. Meals at home regularly consisted of  kare-kare, mechado, bringhe, and other Pinoy dishes lovingly prepared by my Kapampangan mom. Meanwhile my dad, a historian, would give my brother and me factual background lectures of just about any place (or anything) we encounter, and always emphasized the importance of preserving the Filipino heritage. 

These days, it seems that most of us are more familiar with what’s foreign rather than what’s ours – and I’m 100% guilty of this too. I listen to J-pop and watch K-dramas. I take selfies with cherry blossoms. Six years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to name native flowers like Salingbobog or Katmon, but I certainly would’ve recognized a rose or peony off the bat.

The internet made the world smaller. That’s a good thing, but somehow I feel that we are running the risk of losing our identity as Filipinos. If drawing from my memories of the old days can contribute even a small part in protecting and preserving our culture, then that would make my parents happy and so my work is done.

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