I told you I'm not Chinese

Friday, the winter chill of autumn manifests and the leaves begin to fall. I have a love-hate relationship with autumn. The cold, cold air reminds me of loneliness. I do not wish to share this plight with other people. I am alone in this journey.

Ha, am I trying to revive my creative self? Not really. But last Friday was colder than the witch's tit, as David would say. It is time for long-sleeved shirts, coats and gloves.


While I was minding my own business a professor, of Indian ethnicity I know because I have browsed through his Web page, stopped and asked, "Where you from?" I, of course, was startled because I was not ready for such instance, especially when his English has a thick Indian accent. Without waiting for my answer, he asked me aloud, enough for the whole campus to hear, "Are you from China?"

Oh no, I said in my mind. Not again. Please Lord God have mercy. Last year I experienced the same incident when a lady thought I come from China. Few months later my classmate thought I'm from Mexico. Now, David said I am the "universal man".

"I'm from the Philippines!" I replied. I would have told him that our race have two Miss Universe title holders, developed the flourescent bulb, and designed the first lunar vehicle. No, I was humble enough. I didn't even reveal that I used to collect live centipedes in a bottle, my ethnic composition was performed before high school music teachers from around the country when I was in high school, a fellow for poetry in English, my poems were published in national magazines, and I have a column. No, I am humble.

"Oh," he said. "My very good friend is from the Philippines. I will let him know that there's another Filipino in the campus." I smiled. Okay, because I am hoping I could find another Filipino in school whom I can play luksong-tinik with, do the otso-otso and halukay ube dance craze, and share sinigang recipe. Now, I wonder if I can do those things in the near future.

Let's hope.

[more reflections on this when I have the urge]