Ang aking lahi, lahi!

Where in this world can you see a karaoke being treated as a saint! Only here in the Philippines, right?

The first thing you see when you enter a Filipino house is a karaoke dressed in floral outfit, for instance, like it’s being prepared for a procession (religious images in their regal outfits are paraded in the streets). I say it’s the first thing you notice as it is usually placed side by side the tv set, which normally what meets your eyes the moment you set foot in a Filipino house, or in a raised platform specially made for it (just like a Filipino fridge, although shorter by size it becomes 2 or 3 feet taller because we are too lazy to bend down to get something from it). Well, the fridge, again is another story. What’s inside this appliance is also very Filipino. Not with the vegies we have here but the yearlong supply of cold water in various bottles of various shapes and brands that fill up most of its space (to compensate for the lack of stocks).

I was actually inspired to write this blog following my tour inside Casa Manila.

Amanda Griffin (you heard it right!) toured me last Saturday in this famous 20-plus year old Spanish-style home built during the Marcos regime (you bet, it was one of Imelda’s projects, this one was for the American visitors). I really had no idea about this tourist attraction, which is inside the Intramuros, until Amanda showed it to me, well to the viewers of The Explorer.

The house, according to the tour guide Carlos, a gay Fil-Am (?), although built not during the Spanish colonialism, really looked like a century –old Spanish casa, with antique furnitures, fixtures etc, which showed vast history of my lahi (race), which is a mixture of so many other races: Chinese, as shown in how our windows are like (the sliding ones); American, chandeliers; Belgian where we borrowed our grand piano which none of the family members can play (according to Carlos and I agree with him); British, the four-poster beds (just like the beds of the royal); among many others. The only thing that is Filipino in this house are the inhabitants. But during the Spanish time there were Filipinos who looked and claimed they were Insular, a Spanish born in the Philippines, but the moment they opened their mouth…(We still have them now: those who dress like Americans, dye their hair like Reese Witherspoon-illegally blonde, peel their skin off to whiteness, and a lot more
idiosyncrasies).

Well, I got all that from Carlos, the very amusing and informative guide. He said so many things that made me laugh not only because he said them animatedly but because I knew they were true. Nope, we don’t have a grand piano and a karaoke at home.

See, how different my race is. What I’ve here is just a bit of the whole. So many things, stories, abilities, cultures, etc. that are so Filipino. Who says my race has no identity?!! My lahi is so lahi (unique)!