Hapa

In Tagalog, 'bahala na' is translated to mean 'happen what may.' It is a shrug of the shoulders, a call to accept uncertainty, and be confident in providence and yourself.

This is the attitude I am aiming for this week as I launch myself to the Philippines. Yes, there are more books to be read, more Tagalog to be practised, ,more maps to study, more Internet sites to find and print. I could do all this, again and again, in the interest of insuring that the trip will be meaningful and productive and anxiety-free.

Instead I want to adopt 'bahala na.'

After all, my goals are clear: to complete the circle Pio, and others in the family, began in the early 20th century in their wave of immigration; to search (but not necessarily find) relatives; to understand more about why and how this generation migrated through the US Navy, and how it impacted their families left behind; and to understand more about myself as a Hapa.

For ten years I have read about Batangas, the Phillipine-American war, Filipinos in the Navy, and Filipino-Americans. I have studied a little Tagalog, cooked a little adobo. In the past two years particularly I tried to know more Filipinos and hang out with them: Deling and Jason and Emily at the University of Michigan, Cora and Chris in Ann Arbor, Edwina and Allen and their crew in Norfolk, Ulpiano Santo in Chesapeake, Fe and the warm people at my local Filipino-American historical association in Southfield, Dean from Hawaii.

Within my family, I have interviewed a number of people about being Filipino-American, or being married to FilAms. This would be George Gomez, Nonny Adap, Ted and Jean Carino, Rita Riggs Steuer, Petra, Mike Salvador, Audrey Laeno.

Many hours late into the evening were spent on Ancestry.com, locating Filipinos in my family's life, the extended kin from the East Coast whose pictures and stories I have: Jose Sallez, R. Marcelino, Servando Castor, the Pacanzas, the Palmares, the Santos's, the Baraoidans.

To prepare for the trip, I have arranged my first four days in the country, and taken the necessary security and health precautions. I have several host families awaiting me. They are the ties that will secure me in my quest: The Marasigian-Obispos in Bauan, Pedro Baraoidan in Manila, and the Dimayugas in Lipa.

Now, with all that in hand, I want to simply go there, to follow my nose, as Ulpiano Santo described doing in his interview with me about life as a mess attendant in the early 30's.

Pio surely had to adopt bahala na. When he walked through the Cavite gate onto the Naval Station, he had no way of anticipating what it would be like, and what would happen to him. He had a few ideas, like me, and had spoken with others, like I have. And there were some longings and dreams, no doubt.

Some would come true, others not. I will guess that he wanted someday to see his birthplace and his family again, a dream that did not come to pass in his lifetime.

I hope my trip will satisfy him. At least, I will try to carry out that dream for him, and in doing so, learn more about the parts of me that I have left behind: being Hapa, and writing down my life.