Becoming an American without Losing My Roots, Part 2

I had to renounce my Filipino citizenship when I took my oath as a US citizen. It was a heartbreaking technicality.   

Although having lived here for almost 20 years, I must admit I have changed. My dancing turned from disco and ballroom to country and rock, my singing from pop to country, and my clothes from blouses and skirts to tank tops and shorts. My kitchen is shifting from cooking pancit and lumpia to grilling steaks and baking pies. My everyday conversation has become American English, not Tag-lish. 

Still, my sixty years of Filipino upbringing are a solid foundation. I felt lost when I was thrust into a largely white community of RVers, meeting only a handful of African-American, Hispanic, and Asian-American couples in eight years. Even in Viewpoint’s thousands of households, there are only three Filipinos.

When I am with kababayans, I readily shift to Tagalog because that is how I think. That’s why I can confuse genders. Tagalog words, except for those that connote respect like kuya for older brother and ate, older sister, are the same. Son or daughter is anak; wife or husband, asawa; brother or sister, kapatid. Speaking in Tagalog will always be easier for me.

I miss authentic Filipino food, too. A sandwich is not a complete meal because there’s no rice. Pan de sal (bread) is only for snacks or breakfast. The Philippine mango is still my favorite fruit. And I will never erase the fact that my skin is brown, and my nose is small. Nor do I want to change any of these.

When I meet Filipinos worldwide who are sacrificing not being with their families to eke out dollars to send home, I identify with the homesickness. And I take pride in Filipino triumphs and feel compassion for Filipino difficulties.  Those will always be my automatic impulses.

But there is a deep kinship between the Philippines and America. We share the Pacific Ocean and with it, the treacherous Pacific Ring of Fire. Spain colonized the American Southwest and the Philippines at the same time. Filipino nurses, teachers, and seamen are part of US hospitals, schools, and ships. And July 4 is doubly meaningful for, on that day in 1946, the US gave us our independence, 170 years after she got her own.

There are also big differences. The Philippines is a tropical archipelago of 7,641 islands while the US is more of a vast contiguous temperate landmass. Plants and wildlife are different. The wide vistas of the Great Plains, the desert landscape of the Southwest, and the glaciers of Alaska are so different from what I knew as a child.

At first, I despaired for my homeland when I saw that American systems are much more developed. But no more. The Philippines is only 78 years old; the US is already 248. And it was America who laid the foundation for Philippine highways, schools, and public administration. There is reason, time, and room to grow!

I will not be able to recapture the life I left in the Philippines. Other people are not as clannish as those with Spanish heritage like us. Sometimes friendships we build here move far away to different states or countries. The good news is that America is moving away from being a melting pot. Pockets of people can preserve their traditions and cultures, except when you marry into another culture like I did.

When I learned that the Philippines is one of the few countries where the US allows dual citizenship, I heaved a sigh of relief. But the nearest Philippine Consulate was in Los Angeles so it took me two years to get the chance to do it. On Oct. 13, 2013, I re-pledged my loyalty to my native land and became a Filipino-American.  

I did not get boiled into a thick soup melting in the pot. Instead, I got included in a colorful chunky stew, contributing to the taste, but retaining enough of my shape, color, and flavor. In this privileged perch, I see my developing homeland from the perspective of my developed home base. I have an enviable dual mission: helping the Philippines as an American and contributing to America as a Filipino.

Do You Want to Know the Secret to My Traveler's Soul?

Why do I travel so much? The secret comes from “somewhere in my youth and childhood.” It was something that deep because this passion is unstoppable. It was not magic. It was not chicken soup. But it has something to do with chicken.

How Much I Travel

We are currently in Honolulu, Hawaii. At 75, I am still on the go although no longer as constantly. When we started traveling, we were gone all twelve months of the year. We were full-time RVing across North America, as chronicled in my book, Carolina: Cruising to an American Dream. When we settled in Phoenix, it went down to just 60%. We left the desert in winter when it was cold and in summer when it was hot. Nowadays, it has settled at 40%.  

This is still a lot of traveling. What pushed me? There was a time when my job had me going to various countries to gain knowledge about how they pioneered IT applications so I could apply them in the Philippines. Much earlier, global companies I joined sent me to various countries for training. I was thrilled to get such awesome trips for free but that is not what pushed me.

It could not have been just that because when I retired and found my travel/lifetime partner, something powerful was unleashed. When I was no longer confined to trips defined by jobs, my exploration of the world became unhinged. I began to go all over the world…literally!

My Mother’s Influence

To answer the question, I had to go farther back in time. It must have been how I saw my mother who also journeyed across the globe. She was sent everywhere, starting from winning the Philippine government’s scholarship to the US to study how the deaf receive education and how they are taught to speak so she could apply it to the Philippines.

During her year in the US, she wrote us letters about how her studies were proceeding. One of the most life-altering moments of my life. She sent us a letter enclosed dry gold, yellow, orange, and red maple leaves that had fallen from trees during autumn. I was so fascinated I thought, “I wonder if she can send us snow!”

Yes, my mother had this outsized influence on my life. More than work and her travels, she fed me tons of chicken wings. She believed, like many in the Philippines during her time, that this would give me the “wings” with which to “fly” the world. I remember eating all kinds of chicken wing dishes: adobo, nilaga, tinola, afritada, steak, curry, inasal, arroz caldo, and, of course, fried. I grew to love anything made from chicken wings.

My Own Discovery

The Philippines was also greatly influenced by the Chinese, aside from the Spanish and Americans who colonized us. They also settled in my home country in droves. The first-ever Chinatown in the world is in a district called Divisoria in Binondo, Manila. At its dim sum places, I discovered Phoenix Claws (is it any wonder then that I ended up in Phoenix?).

This Chinese delicacy of chicken feet became my all-time favorite over the more popular siopao, chow mien, egg rolls, etc. It’s difficult to make (and source) so I order it every time I am at a dim sum place. Before you cringe, you have to give it a try. It’s a gelatinous, sugar and soy sauce-infused and spice-enhanced dish.

Chicken wings gave me the “means” to fly. Chicken feet gave me a reason to “roam” the lands. But now they are no longer high on my list of “Foods to Eat” as part of my largely plant-based Longevity Diet. It’s no wonder I am traveling less.

Through Our Hugely Important Eyes

"Almost nothing need be said when you have eyes,” Tarjei Vesaas, The Boat in the Evening

Except in little posts like this with a few images. As travelers and bloggers, we know how hugely important our eyes are. They give us both the details and the grandeur of each landmark we visit. Then they help us put the thrills and excitement into a few words and images. So I had always hoped that I would enjoy the benefits of good eyesight until the day I die. Last year, however, I turned 70. And soon after, age-related problems started to catch up with me.

Last July, while I was on a five-week road trip. during mass in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, I noticed that, when I closed my left eye, the priest seemed so far away. It was scary. When I tried to read the words of the gospel songs projected on the screen, the letters were all distorted. That was scarier. I called my eye doctor in Phoenix, Arizona and told the clinic that, if I had to, even if I still had two weeks left on my road trip, I would go back. The nurse practitioner said that the doctor was not available until two weeks anyway. But she warned that if I see flashes of light, I should go to an emergency room right away. That was scariest.

When we got back to Phoenix, the doctor immediately referred me to a retinal specialist. His diagnosis: a full-thickness (Stage III) macular hole in my right eye. (The macula is the part of the retina responsible for detailed central vision). He ordered a vitrectomy and membrane peel. It is a delicate surgery that involves the suctioning of the vitreous fluid from the eye, repairing the hole with tiny instrumentation, and placing a gas bubble to allow the hole to close and heal and the fluid to refill the eye. There was only one catch. The four-month recovery period includes the first to second week must be done face-down. This is key to keeping the hole closed but anyone who knows me would say that is an impossible task for this Queen of Impatience. But that was the hand I was dealt. 

Vitrectomy Support Equipment

It is good that a company now rents out a Vitrectomy Support Equipment for $189 a week. It is a chair that allows face-down positioning to be bearable, even somewhat comfortable, seated or when taken apart, lying down. However, the surgery, which should have been done immediately the week after the retinal specialist saw me,  would have prevented me from flying (or even driving anywhere with an elevation greater than 4.000 feet, for three to four months because the atmospheric pressure may reopen the hole. Because I had to be in San Francisco Aug. 30-Sept.2, the surgery was

face-down recovery

to Sept. 4, the day after I come back,

The special chair arrived the day before we left so that I could have more time to set it up and get accustomed to it. My husband had it ready for me in no time. It even came with a system of reflecting mirrors so that I can watch TV face-down. That accessory let me enjoy the US Open from Round 1 to the Finals which my favorite Nadal won.

On the morning of Sept. 4, I was wheeled into the pre-operating room. My BP shot up to 160/85. It was a good thing that, when the anesthesia was delivered to my IV port, I fell into the twilight zone immediately. When I woke up, my husband was at my side, getting all the post-operation instructions and absolutely ready to take me home. We were ecstatic to find out that my face-down recovery was needed for only five days instead of ten.

Then the unimaginable happened. I survived the first day of face-down recovery on my chair and slept on my left side with my nose down. It required lots of discipline. But on the second to the fifth days, things became increasingly unbearable. My back started to hurt more and more. I could not sleep without the help of Xanax which my family doctor allowed me to take, together with Tylenol for the pain. 

Vitrectomy support equipment

My Facebook posts gathered hundreds of prayer warriors but it was my husband who was my angel. He gave me my round-the-clock medications and eye-drops. He kept me supplied with Redbox movies, his signature grilled cheese sandwiches,  fresh yellow flowers, and Ben & Jerry’s chocolate therapy ice cream (I finished five pints). Another angel-friend prepared additional dishes for me even if her house was very far from ours.

In short, I was well taken care of. But the boredom nearly killed me because I could not read well. After six weeks, when no further improvement in vision was expected, my optometrist took measurements for new glasses. I had read that patients usually improve to 20/40 but sometimes end up with 20/50 (20/20 is best). My bad luck is that I got stuck at 20/60. The hole repair unluckily left more scarring than expected. I now read with 12-14 font text against the brightest display.  And the distortion could not be eliminated.

But I am happy I did not lose my right eye's central vision. Statistics show that if you develop ailments in one, the other eye would follow, too. Our diet is now focused on eye health. I had eliminated eggs after my husband's cardiovascular problems, but I brought them back because they are great for our eyes. He also suffers from macular degeneration. And I have doubled our intake of fruits and vegetables, reducing meats at the same time. They are rich in lutein and zeaxanthin, antioxidants needed by the macula. Also important are foods like walnuts, wild-caught fish, and other foods that are rich in Omega-3 fatty acids. 

Our eyes are hugely important, especially for travel-bloggers like us. I had intended to release my second book before the end of this year but now I think I will only be able to do it next year, a full five years from the time I published my first. This compilation of not only obvious but also inner journeys is being completed while I am under this difficult adjustment period. It's hard to put into paper my thoughts. It's even harder to process the raw images from my camera. But the difficulty also makes me more highly introspective. So I promise to make it extra special with these new eyes.

As Marcel Proust once said: "The real voyage of discovery lies not in seeking new landscapes but in seeing with new eyes."

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Being Home. Getting Renewed..

We arrived from Mexico on April 3 and we leave again in two weeks for a six-state road trip. That means about three months of staying at home. What does an active traveler, even in her seventies, do?  Give in to boredom and gain pounds? 

with Bill at the fitness center

We are based in a resort lifestyle community.  Viewpoint has everything you need for an active 55+ lifestyle. I go to the fitness center every day. The pool and hot tub are always inviting. And Bill loves to invite me for a little pleasant hike around the park in the evening. There are special activities, too: movies every Tuesday, Texas Hold’em, Wednesdays, Dine-outs, Fridays and Saturdays, a birthday party here and wedding reception there. There are the very engaging activities of cooking our favorite dishes, tending to my plants, and shopping for the home. Plus the opportunity to have time with valued friends.

The surrounding cities of Phoenix, Scottsdale, Tempe, Chandler, and Gilbert all have markets, festivals, theater, opera, movies, and other activities galore. We don’t rush to go to all that this destination has to offer because we know they will always be there. So I am still more relatively still than when I am traveling. This gives me enough time for blogging and social media with lots of rest time in between.

our humble home base in Viewpoint

cooking at home

Staying home allows me to get renewed for the hectic and exciting travel days ahead. In fact, if I don’t have this respite, I don’t think I will be able to bounce around for six weeks straight on our forthcoming road trip. The time between travels has no ups and downs. There is stability in your environment. You get to follow an established routine. It's a comfort zone. It's simply home.

There must be something restorative in sleeping in your own bed, watching your own TV, or eating food that you have cooked. It gives you the downtime to get refreshed. Your travel juices are focused on planning future trips. You have time to collect facts about remaining bucket list items, time to choose among competing alternatives, and time to find the best deals.

evening at the pool

The same downtime gives you space to wonder about your wanderings. You find the inspiration to write articles with deeper perspectives. You write about inner journeys, lessons learned, insights gained, transformations achieved besides the destinations reached and activities experienced. Just like today, I write here about travel pauses.

A Fitbit Charge 3 is my constant companion, resting nicely on my wrist. It constantly tells me how well I slept and how much I moved every day. During our three months in Mexico, I slept an average of six hours, walked 7-9,000 steps, went to the fitness center, and ate three meals heartily every day at three of the nine all-inclusive restaurants. It is no wonder I gained three pounds and a little “baby bump.”

I’ve been home for almost three months now (except for a brief two-week road trip in May). I sleep the same hours and visit the fitness center each day, too. However, since I do not have to walk from building to building to get to the restaurants and activities, my daily steps are just 4-6,000. But then I also do not eat a lot (I don’t want to cook more!) So, I have lost the pounds I gained in Mexico although a piece of the “baby bump” remains. In a sense, it is even healthier during this downtime!

at Ikea, shopping for the home

A well-thought, well-spent downtime between trips and adventures is heaven-sent. Being home will get you renewed. I am glad we have it six months a year, three in spring and three in fall. As I wrote about in a previous post, that's the best time to be in the desert anyway

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It's Time We Travel More Slowly, Conveniently, Comfortably: Cruising Past 70

2018 was when we celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary. It was also when I said goodbye to my sexy sixties and hello to my sizzling seventies. The last year we had such monumental milestones was 2008 when I turned sixty and Bill and I were married. Time does fly and places recede to the distance.

Now, it's time to say goodbye whether it is to a time gone by or to places we’ve been. But it is also exciting to anticipate the next, whether it's a fresh new period or a brand new place. We always feel this at fever pitch when the end of the year magically transforms into a new one on the evening of December 31.  

We had prepared for this shifting of gears earlier in the year (see here). We completed getting settled in our new home at Viewpoint in July. After that, we resumed our bristling pace and traveled for 13 weeks to 19 destinations. Thankfully, 2019 will only be travel for 18 weeks and only to ten places.

During 13 of those weeks, from Dec. 29, 2018 to April 1, 2019, Mazatlan, Mexico will be our vacation home. We are using the El Cid Vacations Club timeshare we upgraded to at the beginning of 2018. Our four-week stay was upped to all-inclusive twelve-week stay per year in any of their seven hotels in Mazatlan, Cancun, or Cozumel.

three of  El Cid's four resorts in Mazatlan, Mexico

This year, we chose Mazatlan’s El Cid El Moro Beach Hotel. It will be no cooking nor housekeeping at our 26th-floor unit. The hotel has a beachfront. Ten restaurants available for meals. It is steps away from the Zona Dorada (shopping zone) and the El Cid Country Club with tennis, golf, pickleball, spa, and fitness center facilities. It is also just a short drive to downtown Mazatlan with its Catedral, Mercado, Teatro, etc.

When people ask me why we are doing this, I say, “It’s too cold in Phoenix during winter.” We hear it was even in the Fahrenheit 30s in the last few days! But the truth is Bill truly loves to retire in Mexico. This is our compromise. And an all-inclusive three-month timeshare is so much more practical than maintaining a second house. Besides, the room is comfortable and spacious enough, about 900 sq. ft in all with two baths.

our spacious and comfortable room, including the view

Then, to escape the summer heat in Phoenix, we will do a five-week road trip. First stop will be another family reunion, hopefully, in Park City, Utah. This time, however, instead of my family, we hope to gather around Bill’s. After the reunion, we go to Calgary to visit my daughter in Calgary. Then we cross Alberta to British Columbia and stop a few days at Kelowna, BC to say hello to Viewpoint friends.

To keep our tradition of celebrating somewhere special for our anniversary, we have booked a timeshare in Vancouver from where we will tour Victoria, too. Then we go to Seattle to see old friends and check out our rental properties. The last week will be spent in San Francisco with my eldest daughter and her family. Another easy journey.

The shift has also been reflected in my blog which I have rebranded as Carolina: Cruising Past 70. I have been writing travel essays about our decade of travels. The best-loved will be compiled as a sequel to my first book, Carolina: Cruising to an American dream. It will be entitled “Carolina: Cruising Past 70. Lessons Learned, Insights Gained.” I think it will be a vast improvement from my first, not only in my writing but also in my photography.

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We say goodbye to the memories of a time gone by and the places we’ve been in 2018. But we also welcome our new cruising lifestyle, our vacation home in Mexico, the revisits of well-loved people and places, and a new book to make 2019 another banner year! It is indeed time to travel more slowly, more conveniently, and more comfortably, in keeping with our age. It’s time for cruising past 70.

Turning 70: What Growing Old Means to Me

in Sedona, August 2018

When I turned forty, I thought, "Oh no, soon I will be old." Now that I am turning 70, I say, "Oh no, I am NOW OLD!" It is a good thing family and friends will be with me in Indio, California at a Club Wyndham Resort to "celebrate" with me this week. In addition, I found out that the average lifespan of a female in the Philippines is 72; in America, it is 84. Since I have left my stressful life in the Philippines and migrated to the US, I may have added twelve years to my life, just like that! 

back in Manila, August 2017

But it also means that somewhere about ten years before the average lifespan, your body begins to break down. Mine started to do so at age 62, in the middle of our RVing. First, I had a two-year case of hives after the stress of Bill’s heart attack. Then, I began to have strong bouts of acid reflux and other digestive problems. I changed my eating habits, put back rice and seafood into my diet, control my portions, and exercise daily. With this change, I hope there are twenty years left in me, at least.

The main thing that changed, however, is the mellowing and the balancing of my life. It used to be that I had huge goals that I strived for. Imagine studying until you finish your Ph.D., giving birth to pioneers in information technology in the country, contributing to industry and country goals, and bringing up three children singlehandedly all at the same time.

in Seattle launch, June 2015

But now, I have simpler goals on top of everyday life: see the world and take pictures of and write about our travels. The most stressful thing I do is when I combine those hobbies with publishing and promoting a book. Playing scrabble and poker and singing karaoke and dancing in parties relieve me of stresses. I love cooking and nurturing plants, too. It is a good thing that my husband does not mind housekeeping. But my husband disagrees. He says my goals may not be as big as before but they have now become bigger than when we first met. Oh well, life cannot be boring anyway.

The relationships I keep have become simpler, too. There is my beloved husband. He and I take care of each other. Then there are our children who have all grown and do not need much from us anymore. Then there are our grandchildren who give us so much joy. Finally, there are our friends, some neighbors, some who visit us, and some whom we visit. Of course, we have people with whom we still keep in touch.

In general, therefore, I may be becoming weaker and less healthy but these are accompanied by less striving and more peace. In my book, Carolina: Cruising to an American Dream, I write about how my contact card has changed from the corporate Carol as Carolina Esguerra Carreon, President/CEO, to the more colorful Carol, Carolina Esguerra Colborn, Wanderer, Writer, Wife.

in Ensenada, Mexico, August 018

Life has come full circle. It is now as basic as when we were children. How do we then travel past 70? There are times in the past when I have flown thirty-six hours instead of eighteen, chosen cheaper lodging even if it's far from the city center, and eaten street or fast food to save travel dollars. I submit that now we will probably travel less, but more slowly, and definitely, more comfortably, even if not more stylishly.

What I write about has also changed. As much as our travels have steadily become less, from twelve to eight, to probably four months a year in the next few years, I will probably write more about lessons we have learned, insights we have gained, and AHA moments we have relished. After all, getting old also means becoming wiser, having experienced much and understanding more. As we have accumulated the years, it is good that we have collected neither debt nor enemies, and not yet many wrinkles!  

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