remembrance and home

this year has been a year of confusion and trying to sort out mixed feelings of emotion and trying to... i guess understand myself better.
so my post, a copy of a note in my journal (it's rather long, but bear with me):

I feel like my heart is shattered into a million pieces and sprinkled all over the world... and the more I mourn my loss, the more blatantly I realize that in ways I never realized, the Philippines represents home for me. It's true that there are parts of being there, like being a "foreigner" that make it not home, but everything about the culture lights me up!

I want puto and pancit, and even dried fish. I want sweet spaghetti and hotdogs with colorful twisted marshmallows on sticks. I want sticky rice and lumpia, and an abundance of adobo... and lychee. And those just the tastes! I want to hear street merchants in the neighborhoods yelling "baLUT!" or whatever else they decide to sell... "saPAtos"... "moNAY!"... "kanKON!"... oh, and to hear the little magnolia ice cream carts... with their little jingles that could get so annoying, but were so familiar. ...or the sounds of a bustling city, or frogs in a flooded field croaking in such a chorus that they sounded like a bunch of cows! ... Mixed with the sounds of bugs chirping in trees at dusk... and budakees... and carabaos (dumwags)... what a blissful evening. And what of the jeepneys... especially those "cool" ones with their "special" horn sounds? They sound like the voice boxes of talking barbies and GI joes... and toy animals. I never realized I missed it all so much, but I guess that 15 years (arguably 18 with 3 year long sabbaticals dispersed throughout), really does allow a place to steal a large chunk of one's heart.

The last few days have helped me realize just that. I'm doing a project in 3D design about "home being on the airplane" and I'll stick with that even though the Philippines, I'm realizing, is so much a part of me, because I'm also American in some ways, adn thus can never truly fit in either place. Home to me has to be a place where I'm not a misfit, and neither the U.S. nor the Philippines as "home" accomplishes that.
*sigh*

I really want right now to go to my "suki" sari-sari store, on Bishop street in Brookside and buy a 500mL (or 250....) coke "in a plastic", just for old time's sake. The ladies there would ask me about my Ate Nini... who I would say went away to seminary and could be a pastora but now is teaching elementary or high school someplace... and maybe I would mention Ate Lourdes... who was our katulong most recently... and maybe they would have a good green mango harvest again and would share some like they did once, the sap from the stems leaking onto the mangoes and making my hands sticky... sticky and hot, from the humid tropical air. I would then walk home avoiding stray dogs and strange men and sip my coke in a plastic, feeling the straw collapse between my lips. home. or at least a part of home. I would then unlock the gate to my house and walk into the front cemented yard, my ecstatic dog Telly -- (half Filipino mutt, half black lab) -- greeting me an exciting wagging of both tail and body, with tongue outstretched and panting... looking at me with excitement. Then she'd hear a cat and her ears would twitch, and she'd be driven mad with excitement, running around the small confines of the yard until the cat was out of sight.

...

maybe the grass would be greener where I am if I stopped looking at the other side of the fence and ignoring my own patch.
maybe if i actually let the grass grow and nourished it rather than killing it off, the grass would be greener where I am.

The grass is always greener on the other side because there is the refusal to make a differnce in how one's own grass is perceived. If it's brown and dying, then maybe you just need to water it! Chances are, no matter where I go, if I don't tend the grass of the situation, it will become dead and ugly... and I'll want to go elsewhere... but then that grass will die too. It's not about the situation, it's about what you make of that situation.

broken pieces

when will you come
gather up the broken pieces
take some glue
patch them up again?

when will you come
sew my torn heart
patch it up with loving care
make me whole again?

i'm tired of the broken jagged pieces my heart has become. i think i find satisfaction in what is today, but then i again remember of what once was. i know that most of my posts seem to be about that same thing, and when will i get it? but there is a deep sadness in me, as if someone died. it's not just about leaving what was for so long my home, and it's not just about going to a new school in a new place, or about leaving my friends that were so close my heart... and it's not even about my parents leaving me soon... and my sister going off to grad school and no longer being as close by... it's kind of all of that put together. i was hugging a friend today and then i began to think about my friend steph... she gave me a hug every morning before school... and i miss that... and i miss her. then i started thinking about who i would room with next year, and i had no name come to mind... and i started thinking about my friends again and wishing they were near... and i thought about how i don't really have a group of friends i'm totally comfortable with who i do everything with... and i just couldn't handle it any more.

today in history...

I went bowling with my mom today! A fun pre-birthday thing to do... especially since I had to go bowling for my bowling class... there are a certain number of outside of class games we have to play... and we get coupons to cover the cost! It has been so nice having parents nearby this year. That won't be my next couple years, when I have to suddenly grow up and figure everything out myself. On Tuesdays I only have one class, in the late afternoon, so my mom usually will drive down here and take me driving. I'm working on getting proficient enough with my permit that I can pass a driving test and get my license before my parents go back. I'm also hoping to work at a camp this summer, so hopefully that will work out too. They're supposed to let me know sometime this month, but that could be a couple weeks still.
Anyway, just thought I'd check in with more of a... fun post, as opposed to the ramblings of my mind that I so often tend to post.
Yet, this must be all. I have an art history midterm in... about 16 hours, a little less... and I desperately need to study for it.