A Pinoy diaspora Christmas

It's three days before Christmas, but our home here in Manila is quiet. We don't even have a Christmas tree or a belen, although we do have some Christmas stockings up. There are no gifts in the living room, and no one's in a frenzied hurry to wrap Christmas gifts. Oh we know Christmas is this weekend already, but somehow we're just ... quiet about it. You see, tomorrow, half of the family will fly out from Manila to Japan to meet one-fourth of the family based there, and one-eighth of the family will fly out from the US, where they are based, to Japan for the same holiday reunion. Meanwhile, half of those based in Manila will be staying put in the city, but we still had to convince half of that half –one-fourth–to come over on Christmas Eve instead of just staying at their home like they were planning to do. As for the remaining one-eighth of the family, they'll stay in the US and connect with the rest of us–in Manila and Japan–via Facetime. It's not always like this though. Most of the time, my two siblings based abroad would come to Manila, leaving behind their own families, to spend Christmas here with my parents, my sister, me, and our own families. As they would say–and other Filipinos abroad no doubt would, too–iba pa rin ang Pasko sa Pilipinas.

But there would be years when it's the turn of the Manila side of the family to go have that reunion–always not complete–abroad. Come to think of it, in all the years since my two siblings went elsewhere to settle there about 30 years ago, we hardly had a Christmas when we were all together with all the children in one place, sharing a hearty Noche Buena over my mom's hot tsokolate and mechado, my sister's macaroni salad, and my dad's store-bought Chinese ham, queso de bola and hot pan de sal. Our Christmases have always been fragmented celebrations. But thanks to technology, the distance now seems narrower. Whereas before, we in Manila had to wait for the overseas call–placed through an operator–on Christmas Eve, now we can have Noche Buena with everyone via Internet. The webcam enables us to let our relatives abroad see each dish on the table as the laptop or smartphone is taken around the buffet spread. And through Skype or Facetime, we can have conversations for as long as we want. So in Manila one time, we beamed via Internet our pasta, lengua, onion soup, macaroni salad, and roast chicken. My kuya in Japan showed my sister-in-law's karaage, miso soup, salad with Japanese cucumbers, and oden. My ate in the US, on the other hand, told us about what they'll soon have on the table (the time difference between us and them means they have Noche Buena later): turkey or grilled steak and prawns with garden fresh salad. And as my brother in Japan would sip hot matcha, we would take our mom's hot tsokolate while my sister would drink coffee that afternoon when it is night time here. I'm sure our Christmas this year will be celebrated in much the same way by thousands of other Filipino families whose members are in the US, Canada, Europe, Hong Kong, Sydney, Dubai, and other places.  But though we won't be complete, the fact that we make an effort to reach out to our families abroad–whether by text, email, Facebook or Yahoo Messenger chat, Twitter, or old-fashioned phone call–is proof enough that we still hold fast to our family values no matter how fragmented we may be. Christmas is a time when families should be together to celebrate the birth of the One who welcomed us into His family. That belief in the concept of togetherness–whether real or virtual–-is part of what makes us Filipino. Back to our home–it's still quiet now, but on Christmas Eve, expect laptops to be turned on, Facebook accounts open, cameras ready, and happy faces waving at each other's images on the monitor while saying, "Merry Christmas! O anong handa niyo?" This is the Pinoy Christmas, 21st century style.