Asian American women and retirement

Am I saving enough for my retirement? No. Should I be worried? Yes. This Saturday's edition of Bonnie Erbe's PBS show, To The Contrary , had an interesting slant on retirement: the fact that saving for retirement can be especially challenging for Asian-American women. Since we're all familiar with the cultural stereotype of Asians being hardworking, frugal and good at saving, I was surprised to hear that a significant number of Asian American women (28%) rely soley on Social Security for retirement income.

Bonnie Erbe's panel included Former Assistant Secretary on Aging Dr. Jeanette Takamura and Global Summit of Women President Irene Natividad (who is Filipino American), and they spent some time discussing why retirement savings can be an issue for Asian Americans. First of all, we have long lifespans (Asian American women's lifespan is about 86 years, 5 years longer than for white females, and almost 10 years longer than for African Americans). Second, we're women, and women generally earn 70 cents to the dollar as compared to men's salaries in similar jobs. And third -- which I found most interesting -- many Asian American women find themselves in the position of becoming caregivers for their own parents (even as they care for their children), and average caregiver could actually lose as much as $25,000 in Social Security benefits!

It's sad that the wonderful tradition of caring for the elderly can have such an impact on our own financial future. Sending parents to retirement homes is just not part of the Filipino culture. When I was young, my grandmother lived with us for some time after her husband, my grandfather, passed away. Now she lives in Manila with her youngest daughter and several grandchildren. Not that she can't afford to live on her own -- in fact my aunt lives in her house, not the other way around -- but she doesn't want to be apart from her family.

I'm not hesitant about generalizing that Filipinos -- in the Philippines, in the US and all over the world -- are quite comfortable living as an extended, multigenerational family. But for the financially strapped Filipino Americans who watched this show, I wonder how the realities of saving for retirement are going to affect their willingness to take in an elderly parent. Especially since you can never tell if that same tradition will remain when we reach retirement age and our own children have to decide whether to take us in and care for us.

Geez. I'd better start putting more money away for my golden years. Or maybe buy a house in Manila and retire there.


Bonggamom tries to write nice things about her kids on Finding Bonggamom in the hopes that they will love and care for her when they are grown up and she's just a poor, old widow. She also writes at Bonggamom Finds, Silicon Valley Moms, and Silicon Valley Savvy Source.

What's for dessert?

I'm in charge of dessert for next week's Thanksgiving dinner. I love baking, plus I can prepare everything beforehand and relax on the day itself, so I was quite happy to draw the sweets straw. But what to serve? Ice cream for the kids, fresh fruit for the health-conscious.....and pumpkin pie?

Bleh. I'm not a fan of pumpkin pie. Don't get me wrong -- I love pumpkin. It makes great jack-o-lanterns and fall decorations. It's sturdy and long-lasting. I even like it as a food. It's oh-so-nutritious, full of vitamin C and A and fiber. I love roasted pumpkin seeds, pumpkin soup, pumpkin bread. But as a dessert?

I'm still amazed that people would make a dessert out of plain old kalabasa. Because I didn't grow up with it, it just seems plain weird, like the sayote that used to substitute for apples in the Manila McDonalds' apple pie. Actually, I like sayote pie (it tastes just like apple pie, and for all I know, McDo still uses it). Maybe it's that custardy spiciness that I don't like, the eggy, creamy texture. Whatever -- you get the picture.

If it were up to me, I'd nix the pumpkin and bake an apple pie. No one in my family likes it (although 3Po and Jammy would probably eat it -- they'll eat anything). Neither my sister nor her kids like it; her husband is indifferent (and he's on a diet anyway). But what about her husband's sister? She's Filipino, but her husband is American as apple pie -- meaning he likes his pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving. Should I make a pumpkin pie knowing full well he's going to be the only one to eat it, or should I ditch tradition and make what I want?

Who remembers Daimos?

Two weeks ago we returned from a month-long trip to England. For a whole month, we were so completely immersed in the English culture that my kids sprouted English accents (Mummy, could I have some biscuits please?) and became fans of long-running English cartoons such as Postman Pat and Andy Pandy.

Alfie, of course, could not be more delighted. Having landed squarely into middle age he has gone all nostalgic, reminiscing about the good old days and reliving all his childhood TV shows. He has introduced the kids to his boyhood favorite, the Thunderbirds, and they took to it so quickly that we've already bought the Best of Thunderbirds DVD . All this has stirred up some nostalgia of my own. Memories of the cartoons I watched as a kid in the 70's have been swirling around in my mind, and all of a sudden I miss them.

I miss the Flintstones. I miss Penelope Pitstop. I miss I miss Sigmund the Sea Monster, Flipper, the Land of the Lost. But most of all, I miss the Japanese anime shows. Remember those? If you grew up in the Philippines in the 70's of course you do. Everyone I knew was hooked on one type of Japanese anime show or another. All the girls tried to draw the heroines and all the boys wanted the robot toys for Christmas.

For girls, there was Candy Candy and RonRon the Flower Girl. For boys, there was Daimos, Voltes V (read "five"), Mazinger Z (read "zee"), Grendizer and Mekanda Robot. Actually, even the robot series appealed to girls because of the the soap opera stories woven throughout the plotline (Remember the Voltes V Armstrong boys' search for their missing father? who turned out to be one of the enemy Bozanians? Who can forget Daimos' touching Romeo-and-Juliet love story and the way they kept screaming to the heavens: RICHARD!!! ........ ERIKAAAAA!!). My hands-on favorites were Daimos and Voltes V. They had interesting plotlines, the best transforming robots, handsome heroes and strong female characters (note to Mazinger Z: if you're going to attract the feminist audience, then please give the female robot Aphrodite A some weaponry other than those boob missiles).

We were absolutely outraged when Ferdinand Marcos pulled all the robot cartoons off the air, citing exposure to violence as the reason (I guess he didn't want any dissidents getting ideas....). Luckily my uncle had the foresight to videotape a good number of epidodes (and the money to buy a Sony Betamax), so I spent a good part of the 80's comfortably ensconced in an airconditioned room with my cousins, watching tape after tape of Daimos and Voltes V. That's why I will be able to hum the Voltes V theme song as long as I live.... Da dumdum da-dummm..... DUM--DUM...

And of course, the unforgettable phrases:

Let's... Volt... In!!!!

Laser... Sword!!

Vooooollll...tesss... Five-Ah!!

But I grew up and moved on, and didn't give it a thought until this summer, when it all came back. I'll admit, when I saw my kids enjoying Thunderbirds, I got a bit jealous. Why should they be watching poorly-filmed, freaky-eyed puppets when they could watch the beautiful classic anime sketches of Voltes V? Voltes versus Thunderbirds? Ha! The Armstrong Family beats the Tracy family anytime. Thunderbirds 1 thru 5 are no match for the Voltes Cruiser, Bomber, Panzer, Frigate and Lander -- plus they volt in.

But there's one way that Thunderbirds beats Voltes -- they've got DVD's available on Amazon. And now that Alfie has gotten his Thunderbird fix, I want mine too. Tracking down a copy of Voltes V or Daimos or any 70's anime show aired in the Philippines has been much harder than I thought. For one thing, many shows like Voltes V and Daimos were dubbed into English especially for the Philippine market; I was shocked to discover that all those "American"-sounding voices were actually Filipino voice-overs (so sue me -- I was only seven!). So English copies would be extremely rare, if they exist at all. Due to a series of lawsuits over copyrights, it is unlikely that Candy Candy will ever be released in English again. And a Google search for "Ron Ron the Flower Angel" returns no relevant results whatsoever.

I guess I'll have to make a trip to Manila and go deep into the bowels of Divisoria or Quiapo and search for a poor-quality, overpriced VCD of my favorite childhood TV shows. And I'll be delirious with happiness when I find it. In the meantime, thank God for YouTube....

** Cross-posted on Bonggamom's personal blog, Finding Bonggamom.

Bringing Folk Dance to the Young Uns

In my recent work with the Fil-Am group at my alma mater, I got acquainted with a really talented young guy, just a few years younger than me, who choreographed the "Kini-Kini" and the "Asik" for the show last Saturday. In speaking with him, he told me that while he was in college down in Florida, he became a member of his school's Fil-Am club and performed in their own culture show. After graduation, he joined a professional Filipino folk dance troupe down there where he perfected his craft as a dancer and a choreographer, learning not just the more famous dances but some pretty obscure ones as well, dances I'd never even heard of. And then he moved to Virginia where he became heavily involved in helping local colleges choreograph for their various and sundry shows.

Been talking to him this week about possibly starting up some kind of annual boot camp or workshop for area Fil-Am high school and college students, a weekend thing where he could not only teach different, more obscure dances, but refine form and technique for some of the more popular dances. I can't tell you all how excited I am about this. Anyone who reads this blog knows of my deep love for the art of dance, and Filipino folk dancing holds a special place in my heart because it's the first type of dancing I learned.

All the big schools in my area (GW, American, George Mason, Georgetown) have their own Fil-Am group and they all put together an annual culture show of some kind. I can't wait to get more involved, not just for my own enjoyment but also so that my kids can see how much fun I'm having, which would (hopefully) make them want to join in. Already, I told my 6-year old son that when he goes to college, he has to join the Fil-Am group so he could do some of the dances too. His response? A dismayed, "Do I have to, mommy?" To which I replied, "Yes." Like he has a choice in the matter? Hey, I didn't have a choice, why should he, right? It's for his own good and that's that. I already know my 4-year old daughter won't have a problem joining in. She's already eager to learn how to dance the Tinikling.

For your enjoyment, I bring you esteemed dancer and choreographer Don Verde's "Kini-Kini," as presented this past Saturday at GW. This beautiful and regal dance was part of the Muslim Suite. Enjoy.

You Know You're Filipino if.....

You know you're Filipino if....

You're related to everyone

Your middle name is your mother's maiden name

You like sweet spaghetti

Your second piece of luggage is a balikbayan box

Goldilocks is more than a fairy-tale character to you

By now, practically every Filipino has received some version of this via email: a list of funny (and not-so-funny), endearing (but sometimes derogatory) list of quirks that uniquely identify the Filipino culture. One of the best presents I received this Christmas was this list in printed form: a book called "You know you're Filipino if...: A Pinoy Primer", compiled from the internet and edited by Neni Sta. Romana-Cruz. Anyone who is Filipino (or is married to one) should read it; I nearly peed in my pants laughing.

Leave it to Filipinos to distill all the absurdities of the Filipino culture and present it in a funny way (as the very last item in the book says, Filipinos like to laugh at themselves and others). In fact, the more items you check off, the prouder you feel. The end of the book has a "scoring" system so you can tally how many items apply to you and see how Filipino it makes you. I scored 84 out of a total 203 items; according to the book, this puts me in the "Malayo ka pa!" (You've got a long way to go) category. Sounds pathetic, I know, but in my defense, if I had been living in Manila, I could have added points for things like:

- living with my parents

- having a "Lazy Susan" (the turntable that goes round and round) on the dining table

- having a "clean kitchen" and a "dirty kitchen" (in Palo Alto, we can only afford the space for 1 kitchen, and it's never completely clean)

- any of the items pertaining to the way Filipinos drive (I'm a law-abiding minivan mom in the US, but whenever I go to Manila, my driving habits terrorize my husband)

That would have given me a score of 102, which would make me "Amoy na Amoy Ka, Pinoy!" (You smell, Pinoy!) Not that I eat bagoong (I'm actually allergic to it), but basically, I walk like a Pinoy, talk like a Pinoy, smell like a Pinoy... I must be Pinoy. Phew!

Anyway, go read the book, have a laugh, and see how you stack up -- or, as in my husband's case, see how your loved ones stack up!

Now that Northern California's highway 101 is becoming as "ma-trapik" as Edsa during rush hour, Bonggamom wishes she could give in to the urge to ignore red stoplights and create new traffic lanes whenever she pleases; since she can't, she blogs away her frustration at Finding Bonggamom.

Dance Dance Revolution

I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that dancing is a huge, GINORMOUS part of Filipino culture. Kids in the Philippines start dancing as soon as they can walk. We dance at school, in neighborhood Christmas shows, heck, we even use dance as prisoner therapy. I myself started participating in werdance numbers as early as Kindergarten, when I performed with a select group of equally hammish kids to "Kung Fu Fighting," complete with a karate uniform as costumes. Good times.

Dancing and performing were such large parts of my childhood that they became as natural as breathing. Kids in the Philippines sing and dance all the way to adulthood that as grown-ups, practically no one balks when they are tapped to perform at office parties. And every child, and I mean every child, learns to dance at least one of the traditional Filipino folk dances. I have yet to meet a little boy who grew up in the Philippines who hasn't danced the maglalatik at least once in his life.

So imagine my shock when my family immigrated to the U.S. and I enrolled in the nearby all-girls Catholic school to find that not every person, not even a majority of the students, heck, not even a significant minority, found dancing to be a natural joy. I still remember the first talent show I attended where I thought it extremely weird that only one group chose to do a choreographed dance number as their talent.

Things got significantly better in college when I found fellow compatriots who not only enjoyed to dance as much as I did, but who were genuinely interested in learning and dancing traditional Filipino dances. I went to the George Washington University where I performed the tinikling and the singkil on a regular basis for different university and citywide functions. What fun! And what sense of pride and accomplishment we all got from performing and introducing our traditional dance to a larger audience. I'm proud to see that my fellow PCS members continue to perform culture shows, and have even expanded their performance repertoire.

I continue to dance now that I'm out of college (mostly hip hop and jazz), but I'm saddened that I don't belong to any organization that performs traditional Filipino dances. I miss dancing the tinikling! And the pandanggo sa ilaw! And of course the very flashy, very wonderful and very tricky singkil! But worse, I want my kids to learn the dances and there is no one for them to dance with, to learn from. I can teach them of course, but it's so much more fun to learn with their peers and perform for an audience. For kids in particular, public performance teaches them discipline (from practices), enhances their confidence, brings pride in their heritage and rewards them with instant gratification from audience appreciation. Plus wearing those costumes are fun.

Here in the U.S., I believe one of the easiest ways to initiate Fil-Am kids to Filipino culture is to get them to join a Filipino dance troupe. It's an effortless way to introduce them to other like-minded kids, gives them exercise, and introdcues them to the benefits of dance as I mentioned above. And if they are introduced to it at a young enough age, they won't fight you on it or think that it's weird or resist you because their friends aren't doing it.

A quick search on YouTube netted me the following clip from the Filipino student association at Stanford. I like what they've done to the tinikling! Very creative indeed. The wave of the future. Now, if I can only find a nearby dance troupe or a traditional Filipino dance class for my 4-year old and 6-year old. My boy in particular would look so cute with all those coconut husks strapped to his chest.

Modern Tinikling at Stanford University:


Maglalatik by the Bayanihan Dance Company

The Village vs. Us

Maraming salamat (many thanks) to Sugarmama and the rest of the awesome FM site contributors for having me over and allowing me to share a snippet of my life with everyone! To say that I have been looking the blogosphere over for a place to hang my tsinelas (slippers) is a massive understatement! Finally! I get to read about, as well as share, the many aspects of parenting as a Filipino woman. I hope that, from this and my future posts, you will get a lot of entertainment. And as always, like I do in life, please take everything I post with a grain of salt (or rice, or patis, etc.)! Mabuhay!

The village (aka: my parents and the various aunties and uncles who live around them). That’s pretty much the reason for our move back to my parents’ house earlier this summer. Hubby and I agreed that it would be good for us, and the kids, to make good use of help from our ‘village’. A decision which has impacted every thread of our very existence, even more than we had possibly hoped to have been prepared for. We moved in with my parents. Gah!

Now, it’s really not that bad (no, really it ‘is’!!!). The ‘living-with-my-folks’ part has been fine. Hubby and I both do our best to be productive while maintaining a balance of quality time with the kids, couple-time, and time to ourselves to re-energize. It’s the ‘adjustment’ that’s been quite, um, interesting.

You see, being a first-generation filipina, my parents and I have always been at odds when it comes to doing certain things. And, as with everything else, the way they raised me back in the day is completely different from the way Hubby and I raise our own kids in this child-centric day and age. Following me here?

What we used to contend with only during times of Lola’s (grandma’s) visits, now seem to be an everyday battle. Case in point: I’m a firm believer and avid promoter of breakfast first thing in the morning. It just makes sense to me – all night without food and your body’s bound to be screaming, “Feed me already!” as soon as you get up, no? And I mean ‘food’, not a snack to tide you over. So, despite how groggy I may be I drag myself into the kitchen to prepare (short of a full course meal) something that incorporates a little bit from each of the daily food groups. Sure, my older one will demand Lucky Charms, or cookies, or even ice cream which, scarily enough, Lola will happily run and get. But I merely laugh it off, saying “Uh-huh, that’s nice dear. Now eat your waffles, eggs and banana along with your orange juice!”. Pretty typical, yes? But sometimes trying to beat a preschooler (who wakes up at five in the morning) to the kitchen just isn’t feasible. And so, guess what Lola comes up with? A single. humongous. serving. of pandesal – the bread of all champions! Because it’s so enriched with overbleached white flour and other yummy (nonexistent) nutrients! Okay, sure-sure, that’s fine. I can deal with that on occasion. But e-very. Friggin’. Morning? Seriously. And, here’s the thing: five minutes later my kids are even more ravenous! Can you say, “Another pandesal, please!”?

Saving money and paying off debt was the biggest incentive in making our move out here. Two full-time jobs + no rent = bills payed/$$ saved/and a house in about a year. It’s a no-brainer, right? Well, so is daycare when it comes to the grandfolks. As with the generations before them the younger adults went off to work while nanay and tatay (mom and dad) stayed behind to look after the kids. I know my own grandparents did it for my mom, and so it’s only natural she does it for us. Call it the quintessential circle-of-life, so to speak. Well, imagine the shock and horror when we announced to my parents that our kids would be attending preschool/daycare. “Isn’t that just glorified babysitting?” my dad asked. But what he was really saying is, “You’re such a fool! You’re wasting your money on something your mother could do!! Such foolishness!” What I should’ve done was point out how tiring it is to watch kids by yourself on a daily basis. And how, you’ve gotta have more than the tv set to TFC (The Filipino Channel) in order to keep them entertained. And I should also have reminded him that Mom doesn’t like taking the kids to the park because “it’s better to stay at home and be safe” than to run around burning up some natural energy. Meanwhile, the kids get no sunlight and are completely anemic by the time I see them. Kidding here, sort of. Dare I have explained the social benefits my little ones receive from being exposed to other munchkins their size at this early and crucial time in their life? (Not to mention playing with more than the remote control, AND having more to snack on than pandesal). Nah, didn’t even go there.

It’s apparent that ‘the village’ hasn’t been too happy with us. I hear the ‘tsk-tsks’ behind our backs and the shaking of their revered heads as we push more milk than juice into their daily routines. They’ve taken it rather personally that their ‘advice’ hasn’t been set in stone within the pages of our parenting handbook. It’s also apparent that they think we’re complete quacks when it comes to this parenting thing, and offer up tons of “See, I told you so…” whenever anything goes awry.

But, from my humble (first generation) point of view, it’s also ‘a parent’ who has to decide what’s best for their own child based on their own, albeit still-learning-as-I-go, experience. These kiddos don’t come with a manual – otherwise we’d all be parenting them in the same cookie cutter way all the time, yes? Regardless of age and/or culture who’s to say that one person’s way of raising a child works for the next, um, villager?