'The Bicycle Diaries'

"Oh I love your color."

Most of us Filipinos would not appreciate such praise. No, not when you are in the Philippines. Especially when your skin is darker than brown.

Fact is, I have a hate-love relationship with my current skin color. But my American friends are drooling over my tan. However, it is just basically on the arms and legs. I am like a chameleon which has some genetic disease.

For the past three weeks David and I pedaled our bicycles and trekked biking trails around New York. I, in turn, turned into a chocolate piaya. How great is that? There's a sweet yam piaya, but a chocolate variety is a rare find. When I went back home to the Philippines on a brief visit I was amazed with the number of television commercials focused on whitening products - from creams to tablets. Filipinos do appreciate a person more when he or she has a lighter complexion. It is refereed to as the skin color of the rich and glamorous. Even my mother would do everything to achieve a lighter complexion.

Americans are opposite. They visit the tanning center to get that "delicious" tan they want. If they cannot achieve it through the tanning bed they would themselves sprayed with tanning paint. I don't know if you could taste the tanning paint when you kiss somebody who has applied it to their body. (There goes my tongue - it turned copper!)

"Oh, I love your skin's color." Yeah, now I know how uncomfortable it is being stared at. It was no wonder why people in Bacolod looked at me like I am a celebrity.

It is funny to think that Americans bask in the sun to get that tan. I would cringe whenever I hear Americans admire a friend whose skin seemed baked. "Oh, you have a lovely tan." The person would beam and say "Thank you" like a kid who was given a treat. I would have told him/her, "Oh, what a lovely skin cancer you have." My friends at home would not even believe that some students wear their bikinis at school during summer. "They allow that?" they would ask. They mean wearing bikinis on campus. For us who are educated under Catholic schools, even the girls' school uniform, skirts actually, should be cut below the knee.

So, after several biking bonanza I am now a certified (only God knows where I got that idea) cholo. David and I constantly go around Nazareth College because of the vast sidewalk area the campus has. However, it is hard to pedal up on a hill. Nevertheless we achieved our goal of building muscles on our buns. We dared to trace where Pittsford/Erie Canal trail leads, only to stop at a distance knowing that the road will lead us to Niagara Falls as the map indicated.

We also went around Seneca State Park. We enjoyed the lake breeze and the beautiful park. We even went as far as Sodus trying to find a nice bike trail to no avail.

The most wonderful part, apparantly to my end, was when we went to Mendon Pond's Park, not to bike (but it was the original plan), but to pick wild berries along the road.

On the other hand, when we finish our exercise we go home and ravage the food in the refrigerator. Or shop at the grocery store for some ice cream.

Well, at least we tried our best.