We usually have Thanksgiving dinner over at a dear friend's place, so we never had any reason to cook our own. Unfortunately, our friend was out of town this year, and we did not receive any other invitations. Or perhaps, we just were not invited and I have yet to realize that nobody cares...LOL. So at the very very last minute, we decided to make a go at exploring unchartered territory. I thought it would be fun to make our very first turkey. I invited my sister & niece to be our guinea pigs. Since we were going to be only a party of four, Bill got a 12 lb. turkey. We were advised that we needed 15 minutes for every pound to cook it just right. By the time it was three hours prior to dinnertime, the set time to start putting the bird in the oven, we learned that it actually required 4-5 hours. We panicked and started arguing in the kitchen! Oh...oh, this might not have been such a good idea after all. It's a good thing I had not invited anyone else. This would have been so embarrassing! Fortunately, I had earlier defied the printed instructions and decided to thaw the frozen bird, even if it was specified not to. So in spite of the limited time, it eventually came out perfect, and we had a simple but wonderful Thanksgving dinner with all the traditional trimmings. In spite of the fact that I am a newly naturalized citizen of America, my newly naturalized tongue had yet to acquire the taste for the bland white meat of this said fowl. Now can somebody please pass the salt or fish sauce...LOL. Happy Thanksgiving everybody!
Finally, after 4241 days or 11 years, 7 months, and 9 days, since I landed on U.S. soil, with the intention of permanently residing in the States, I am now an American citizen!!!
My journey began when my Vietnamese prostitute mother, who managed to escape from the clutches of her Eurasian pimp, decided to give me up , so that I could have the chance for a better life in America. As Saigon burned and fell, she hurriedly handed me to an American G.I. soldier and pleaded to take me on board his helicopter. It proved to be a shaky escape and the turbulent flight caused me to be propelled outside the chopper and I fell out on to the sea. After several hours, I was then rescued by a boat filled with other fleeing refugees. Sadly, our boat sank when she hit an iceberg. I narrowly escaped drowning when someone flung me on top of an over-inflated tire interior. I floated across the ocean, paddling away from Havana hoping to land in Miami...but I somehow ended up in Mexico. Giving up every dollar my father had saved from the sale of our carabaos to some local "coyotes", just so that I could be smuggled by them into theStates. They had me crawl my way through a small tunnelunderground crossing the U.S.-Mexico border. Along with mynewfound Hispanic friends, we ran across the unforgiving desert and fortunately were missed by the U.S. border patrol. Eventually, I made it to East L.A., sold fruits by the freeway, and slowly worked my way to the "waspy"Westside. Oops...okay...okay...my juiced-up overactive imagination got the best of me and I once again got carried away.
My story was not that dramatic, but nevertheless was almost just as challenging... As a son of an airline man, I was able to travel for free and visit the U.S.A. from my homeland, the Philippines, practically any summer I wanted. That was what America was to me...just a place to visit relatives and perhaps visit Mickey. I never dreamed or imagined that I would one day want to live in the United States.Had my parents been able to foresee the future, then my Mom could have easily come here and have given birth to me on U.S. soil. My Dad had two opportunities to become a U.S. citizen even before I was born, but never saw any reason to pursue it. When President Clinton signed the bill to make WWIIveterans automatic citizens, my Dad decided to go for it for my sake. But alas, I was already over the cut-off age. Had it happened before my 21st birthday, then I would have automatically become a U.S. citizen along with my father.
Unlikemillions of altruistic people from other developing countries, who make the sacrifice of leaving their homeland and everything behind, in search of a better life for themselves and their families, the catalyst that drove me to leave the Philippines was pretty lame.At a quarter of a century old, I found myself with a new job and a new love. A little more than four months later, all within the same day, before the first full weekend of the New Year 1995, I found myself all of a sudden jobless and single. I was fired from my job since my performance suffered due to spending so much of my energy on traveling back and forth from Manila toHong Kong to feed this relationship. I was young and naive and made the mistake of having a long distance affair with someone who apparently was not worthy of my love. I discovered that my relationship had betrayed me by having dangerous liaisons with two other so-called friends of mine. Call it triple jeopardy or my own private soap opera. I was devastated and depressed for the next three months.I then knew that I needed a change of environment to get out of thisrut.So I decided to use my very last free international airline ticket to take me across the Pacific Ocean to the U.S.A.. Yes, I was not "fresh off the boat"... I flew, first class delivery, no less...LOL. I was filled with champagne wishes and caviar dreams with only a pocket full of change and a "Hollywood or Bust" kind of attitude. I was full ofexcitement,even if it meant looking forward to a life without my nanny and maids...LOL
Even as I landed in Hawaii, I never had a clue that the next few years would be the most humbling experience of my lifetime.It was a struggle, but I believe it built my character. I've already given too much information (again), so I will just skip the sordid details. My family and most of my closest friends know what I had to go through to reach this point.I would like to take this opportunity to thank my family andall my friends. I would like to especially thank some very special people who were an integral part of this journey: Paul T., who gave me an Aloha welcome during my stay in Hawaii; Carlos G. for taking care of me while I was in San Francisco and giving me the skills to survive in Amerika, such as how to cook rice and Filipino dishes; Jerz, for being like a "mother" away from home; Jesse Z. for showing me how hard work in Amerika pays off; Phillip G. for offering me a sofa to sleep on during my time in San Francisco; my twin cousin Robin and my relatives in Redwood City; Jojo S. for our joint venture in CiBa; my sweetie for giving me the key to my dreams; and last but not the least, my Bill, who saved me in more ways than he will ever know. Oh I guess, I should also thank my former employers at the sweatshops and the immigration lawyers, who gave me the opportunity to contribute to their children's college funds...LOL
My oath taking happened sooner than expected. It was held at the Fairplex in Pomona, California, which is like 50 miles away from home. USCIS, never seems to want to make it easy for me. My appointment was at 8AM. In spite of the fact that we left the house very early, we were late due to inaccurate mapquest directions and over-congested traffic. I figured that there would be several Filipinos, and therefore could relax at the big possibility that I wasn't the only one running on "Filipino time"...LOL. There were 3025 people who were going to be naturalized in my batch. The top five biggest ethnic groups who were going to become Americans that morning were from 1. Mexico, 2. Philippines, 3. El Salvador, 4. Iran, 5. Vietnam. Mexico has always beaten the Philippines in this game. Two days later, Philippines would beat Mexico, only this time it would be in the super featherweight boxing match, where my countryman, Manny "Pacman" Pacquiaoknocked-out Erik "El Terrible" Morales III on the third round. Oh I digressed...anyway...back to me...LOL. I didn't foresee that it was going to be such an emotional moment for me. When the judge started swearing us in and told all of us that she was keenly aware of how long most of us have waited for this day to come, and the hardships that most of us had to endure and overcome...I started to shed a tear and balanced it on my right cheek and dabbed it as it hit my right dimple...LOL. Bill, my friend Jojo S., who was visiting from Manila, and his mother, Tita Mely, were there to share this joyous moment with me. I was very happy! I found it funny when they announced, "You can choose to change your name legally, if it is too long, too hard to pronounce...", and I found it ironic when they continued by saying, "...or if you want it to sound more American." More American!..what is that supposed to mean?...You just told us we were now Americans...LOL. The lady who handed my certificate was an African American, and she said, "Oh, how nice, you legally changed your Japanese name to that of Puff Daddy's!". I had to tell her, "No madame, I am not Japanese, and that is indeed my real name...I am the original Sean John, since I am older than P. Diddy by 73 days!". Now that I am an American, I can be arrested for lewd conduct or indecent exposure, and no longer have the fear of being deported...LOL. (just kidding, mother!) I continue to pray for several family & friends of mine, who are not yet fully settled or do not have their papers in order. Hang in there...your time will come soon...I know it will. Coming to America made me appreciate and value my Philippine heritage, identity, history, culture, and food, etc., even more. I will always be proud to be a Filipino and do miss my homeland, but at least, as acitizen of the U.S.A., I now can contribute to the future of the place I now have called home.
Among the sea of U.S. flag-waiving former second-class citizens,
now my fellow Americans
WANTED Newbie U.S. CitizenWanted: for jury duty. Wanted: by The Republican Party. (They need your vote now more than ever.) Wanted: to bear arms for the misguided war in Iraq.
I'm experimenting with a new title to my blog, another word play using my name with the concept of TMI, "Too Much Inform-a-Sean". I think it is also apropos for my blog, since my friends have been teasing me for what they deem as a strong propensity for sharing too many details...LOL For now, I am retiring my original title, "Memoirs of a Gay-Sean", which was a play on words from the novel/movie, "Memoirs of a Geisha". I believed then (and continue to believe) that it is an appropriate title for my blog, since this was about sharing stories of my life anyway. I assumed that everyone, in my circle, at least, would get the joke and see the humor in it. Unfortunately, not all did. The supposedly witty title was to showcase more of my sense of humor, instead of being miscontrued as an advertisement or propoganda of my sexuality. There is certianly more to me than my sexual orientation. I had to realize the hard way that the world is not yet ready for such openness. I had to acquiesce to the fact that I have a lot of people in my milieu, whom I love unconditionally, who have more conservative political and religious leanings. Sharing was for me a means to give joy and to get it back in return, not heartache... no, not heartache. In my younger days, I would automatically rebel, but now that I'm older (and hopefully more mature) , I am learning to conform for the greater good...or is it the lesser evil(?).
I am the result of an accidental and final creative effort between my mother, a writer & retired hotelier who comes from a musical family, and my father, a joker & retired airline man who has an enormous zest for life. People who know them well have said that I've inherited the best of their gifts. This is an attempt to share parts of my mundane life, which include entries about my family, my "in-laws", my friends, my pets, my travels, my adventures, my goofing around, and some of my feeble endeavors in writing, poetry, and song writing, etc. Hope you like my bloggerole of rigmarole ... my bloggerdash of balderdash!
We usually have Thanksgiving dinner over at a dear friend's place, so we never had any reason to cook our own. Unfortunately, our friend was out of town this year, and we did not receive any other invitations. Or perhaps, we just were not invited and I have yet to realize that nobody cares...LOL.
ed my sister & niece to be our guinea pigs. Since we were going to be only a party of four, Bill got a 12 lb. turkey. We were advised that we needed 15 minutes for every pound to cook it just right. By the time it was three hours prior to dinnertime, the set time to start putting the bird in the oven, we learned that it actually required 4-5 hours. We panicked and started arguing in the kitchen! Oh...oh, this might not have been such a good idea after all. It's a good thing I had not invited anyone else. This would have been so embarrassing! Fortunately, I had earlier defied the printed instructions and decided to thaw the frozen bird, even if it was specified not to. So in spite of the limited time, it eventually came out perfect, and we had a simple but wonderful Thanksgving dinner with all the traditional trimmings. In spite of the fact that I am a newly naturalized citizen of America, my newly naturalized tongue had yet to acquire the taste for the bland white meat of this said fowl. Now can somebody please pass the salt or fish sauce...LOL.
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