It’s uncanny, the way we Filipinos have the innate ability to blend in: adapt a culture, copy an accent, adjust to a climate, and if necessary, reinvent ourselves.
A couple of days after we arrived in Auckland,
my husband and two kids started school and had little or no problem making friends and fitting in. A few days later, hubby and I both got hired for part time jobs and were to start work immediately (same job, different shifts). Among the many blessing we received, reinforcing our resolve to migrate to the land of the long white cloud.Walking almost a kilometer to the train station each weekday is a good form of exercise and can be considered a leisure stroll. Same goes for the half kilometer walk from Britomart to the building where the office is located. That is, except when I have to literally run and catch the train on days that household chores took longer than I expected them to get done. Or when the rain suddenly pours down. But like most Kiwis, Asians, Islanders, and others who’ve made NZ their home, who walk to and fro anywhere in the city, I brave the rain sans an umbrella and oftentimes without a hood, too.
I told my husband that one of my conditions to our move to NZ would be that my sense of style would not be compromised. But even as we were packing our clothes and accessories, I had to give up, give away, and leave behind heavy clogs, 3-inch wedges, kitten heels that I knew wouldn’t be able to wear, walking the streets of Auckland. I bid goodbye, too, to beloved handbags and purses of pink, orange, red, green, and blue hues. And there’s that half of my collection of fashion accessories that I had to let go of, as well.
I stuck to my fashion conviction, defying the winter wind with nary a cover for my head, simply because none of my beanies and berets matched my dark brown winter coat. Suffering sinusitis and colds as a consequence. And yet, I find myself after five weeks, bidding and winning a pair of trainers at an online auction, because I’ve decided to ape the Kiwis who wear comfortable footwear whilst traveling to and fro work, with their actual preferred shoes in tow. Practicality has won me over.
Working in a call centre, I’ve acquired a semi-British, semi-Kiwi accent. When talking to my British boss and when seated beside British co-workers, I pick their accent up unintentionally. When speaking to Kiwis on the phone, I automatically pick their accent up. When speaking to Asians or other nationalities, I automatically switch back to my natural, American English accent. Ah, but nothing beats speaking in Filipino or Cebuano to fellow Pinoys. I forget I’m in another country altogether.
Speaking of fellow Filipinos, I am amazed at how everyone almost automatically warms up to one another, and the instantaneous desire to assist the one in need. A week after we arrived, hubby and I immediately joined our uni alumni in an evening get-together. The following day, with other Cebuanos to help organise Sinulog in NZ. And when the KBNZ invite came a few weeks later, we didn’t hesitate to sign up and take part in the organisation’s planned activities, too. As for our new friends, they immediately offer to help us keep our jobs and possibly get better ones.
We are, after all, all migrants and try as we might to be like Kiwis, we will always be Pinoys and will forever share a bond with one another.
