Growing up, Lolo and Lola’s house was like my second home. I spent lazy summer days there trying to sleep in the scorching hot den with the sweet relief of the fan when it happened to oscillate by. I played basketball in the cemented garden with multitudes of Lola’s plants lining the area. Lolo played his bandurria and I took reading and writing lessons with Lola, sounding out “ah, eh, ee, oh, ooh” to memorize the vowels. That quaint little house near the foot of the Burbank hills was, in essence, my childhood. During this time, I felt definitively Filipino. I lived off of sinigang and I eternally smelled like cooking oil and patis. And though I did not notice then, my parents told me that I had a pretty heavy accent. My culture filled my everyday life and I felt secure; however, as life began to get busier, I started to bleed red instead of grease from Lola’s lumpia.
I saw my grandparents less every week and I lost my accent. Tagalog became difficult to understand and the feeling of “being Filipino” slowly lost its touch. Fortunately, my upbringing was not all lost to me. I continued to enjoy the occasional visits to my grandparents' house and Lola and Lolo’s teachings backed my schooling. All of it was still there, yet it felt like trying to see through a frosted window. However, in the summer of 2023, the warm rays of the homeland shined brightly through this fog.
For a month, I traveled up and down the Philippines visiting family and experiencing what was only described to me in stories. My family and I visited Zamboanga, where my mom was from, Cebu, El Nido, and Manila. I ate amazing food and saw famous monuments. To say it was just a great trip would be an understatement. It gave me perspective on where I came from and why my relatives always preach about how they miss home. This trip reminded me of what it was like to be Filipino again. When I returned to the US, I found myself missing the Philippines like I had lived there my whole life. Though, as I walked the streets of my hometown in sunny old California, I realized just how privileged I am to enjoy my life.
I wasn’t a struggling child who lived in a shanty, nor was I required to swim in polluted waters to secure dinner for myself. It turns out that the most important thing that I gained from my trip to the Philippines was motivation. Seeing the trash-ridden alleyways and the plumes of garbage fires, I felt a call to action. I wanted to find ways to help improve the lives of those wonderful people and bring back the beauty in the country that I had come to adore.
Harnessing this motivation, and combining it with my passion for STEM, I aim to make my impact through Environmental/Mechanical Engineering. With my passion, I want to improve air quality in underdeveloped countries, like the Philippines, and find new ways to cleanse our oceans.
The vibrant culture of the Philippines is what makes it one of the most amazing countries in the world. Not only this, but the people who uphold it are among the kindest and most compassionate people I have ever met. Therefore, it is only right that I do my part. Not just as a person, but as a Filipino. A Filipino with a dream to keep the air smelling of good food and the oceans clear as a glass mirror.