A Walk In the Woods

  Part I originally published March 29, 2014 I’ve been watching Dexter with my husband.  For those of you who are unfamiliar, Dexter is a clinical psychopath. I think this might be a loose interpretation since Dexter exhibits signs in his thoughts and actions that he not completely unemotional. In Dexter’s own words, he was “born in blood” when his mother was murdered in front of him when he was 3 years old. Dexter, like his foster father, identifies this moment as the day his darkness was born. Afterwards, Dexter was found in a pool of blood by a young policeman that would eventually be his foster father. At first Dexter was like any other boy but as time went on there were signs of Dexter’s new nature. Such signs might have been missed had his foster father not been a seasoned policeman. At first, his foster father thought his urges might be curbed if Dexter took the lives of animals. When it was evident that animals would not slake his urges, his father trained him to be st...

Originally published Nov 5, 2014  In their desperation, they turned to a man they didn’t fully understand – Alfred, The Dark Knight  I thought of this recently because I’ve been thinking about a couple of things with regard to immigration, the “why” and also the “how” of when the act of migration is actually completed. This past summer I made contact and re-connected with my cousin while working on my parent's change of status applications. I referred to her in a previous entry as my Gemini twin. Our families have not connected in a long time for reasons I will not address in this blog. I was trying to be casual about asking if she knew anyone in Lagonoy, a province in the Philippines where we use to vacation. Lagonoy is also the province where my mother was born and my cousin’s grandmother was born. They are sisters and my cousin and I are actually a generation apart although we are close in age. Lagonoy is rural and is approximately 267 miles away from Metro Manila. Lagonoy ...

Originally published May 25, 2017 Photo from The Undocumented Migration Project website I finished  The Land of Open Graves: Living and Dying on the Migrant Trail.   It was a gift from my friend Carolina, creator of  My (un)Documented Life blog .  It was written by Jason De Leόn, an anthropologist of Mexican descent, who spent 5 years in the field, in his journey to complete this project.  At its heart, his work depicts the violence faced by border crossers “as they attempt to enter the US without authorization by walking across the vast Sonoran desert of Arizona”. Its focus is on the Prevention through Deterrence (PTD) policy enacted in 1993. The author explained that when the North America Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) was passed in 1994, the U.S. promised economic prosperity for Mexico if it would open up its ports of entry for inexpensive goods. Shortly thereafter, Mexico was abundant with U.S. subsidized corn that put millions of Mexican farmers out of ...

  Originally published Dec 16, 2016 My only pic from the race once the food was out of the front pockets of my pack. The Rough Trail 50k was a necessary for me. My 25k experience 2 years ago left much to be desired. I had a cold and Trump had just won the 2016 election. My world was turned upside down, by choice, since my family and I had just moved to the Kentucky. I signed up to do races as a way to channel the stress of relocating across the country. I knew it would give me a chance to the know the area, driving to these events, and get to know the running community.    I survived the 25k. I was on my feet for more than 4 hours. As hard as this was, I knew I could run another marathon.  I was a little broken but I crossed the finish. I blogged about it and one of the women in the running group commented that it sounded like I did not have fun. She wasn’t wrong. The 25k course was fucking hard. The race itself was redeeming because despite my inner grouch, it was a...

Originally published Nov 20, 2016 The first week back from the Philippines as rough. I had a constant headache and my insides were in disorder. I went to bed with my son at 8 pm every night. My husband had to travel for work so I didn’t have help. I got a text that week from my neighbor across the street. She was in Italy with a class she was co-leading. She asked if I would come speak to the class. This all came about when we were having wine one night. We got into talking about our backgrounds. I surmised she had always been in contact in one way or another with undocumented immigrants. Me ending up as her neighbor was no exception. She showed me the book  she was reading  and I talked about  Lives in Limbo , reviewed  earlier in this blog . I don’t know how it even came up but I got brave with my wine. I told her I would be happy to talk to her class. The class was called “This Sea is Not My Home: Immigration, Migration and Social Justice in the Sicilian Context"....

Originally published Dec 12, 2017 Photo by Jaclyn I finished the  Jackson 50/50 50K  last weekend. I am hobbling around the house this morning. Yesterday I asked my son to help me get my pants from downstairs so he could help dress me (practice for my old age). On race day I got up 2 hours before the start just fine. I put on my own pants and walked around all by myself. I stayed at the Pyoca lodge with Rachel to avoid  delays getting to the race . Rachel and I headed to Indiana the night before. I love the road trip part of a race. I got to know Rachel through in our interaction online. Talking with her during the drive was amazing. Imagine what a Latina and Pinay might have in common and the ride was just like that.   It was about an hour from home. We got to the lodge at dark. The first thing we did was check into the race. Then we got our things from the car and headed to our cabin.  Our room had 4 bunk beds. The room was clean, simple and had its own b...

Originally published January 8, 2014 I finished a book this past holiday season entitled the  Edge of Terror  by  Dr. Scott Walker . This is the third book I have read this year on Philippine history. I was intrigued by the topic knowing my mother’s birth records were destroyed during the war. Also, in speaking with my grandmother before she died, I learned she was a war bride while the Japanese occupied the Philippines. She was married in secret on top of a mountain.  She told me in Tagalog (pronounced  tah- gah -lawg, t uh - ) it was a scary time. After having read this book, I understood more about “scary”. (book cover courtesy of Google Images) I have to preface this post by saying that I am a product of the New York State public school system. I was a fine student having taken the Global Studies Regents exam. During that time, I do not remember this topic being covered. There is so much to cover with regard to World War II that I might have missed it. ...

Originally published September 3, 2014  The reclamation of my Filipino identity has naturally led me to Jose Rizal and his works. I have completed his two novels, Noli Me Tangere (Touch Me Not) and El Filibusterismo. The words Noli Me Tangere (Touch Me Not) comes from the Latin version of words spoken, according to John 20:17 (King James Version), by Jesus to Mary Magdalene when she recognized him after his resurrection. He said “Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father.” Historians have also noted that the title is a reference to cancer of the eyelids as Jose Rizal was also an ophthalmologist. The novel opens with a letter of a patriot to his country. It is an awareness that something has gone wrong with the health of the nation. The patriot viewed it as a cancer and that in his writing, he would attempt to “lift the veil hiding your ills, and sacrifice everything to truth, even my own pride, since, as your son, I, too, suffer your defects and shortcomings.” The main c...

 Originally published July 4, 2017 Dr. Ledesma’s graphic novel was an easy read yet cut to the core of my pre American life. It was also timely. I recently removed “the undocumented American experience” from the title of my blog. The reason is that my work, running, family and writing selves were starting to merge in the online space. I changed the title so that this part of my life would be slightly obscured. After all these years,  I  am still afraid. This book is a reminder that our stories about having lived an undocumented life need to be told.   I identified with the author’s undocumented beginnings, being told that they were going on vacation and never leaving.

Originally published July 30, 2018 We flew up to Minneapolis Minnesota for  Grandma’s Marathon . From Minneapolis we drove 3 hours north to Duluth. My friend Marian recommended a bakery called  Tobies  for their caramel pecan rolls, something she had frequently as a child when driving from Minneapolis to Duluth. We arrived in MN around 3pm. By the time we got to Tobies, it was around dinner so we had dinner there. I had a Cajun seasoned chicken breast and a baked potato. JP had a flat meatball and spaghetti. AP had walleye and a baked potato. Afterwards AP and I had Caribou coffee and JP had a chocolate glazed donut. At this point I had abstained from alcohol and desserts, so even though it was my birthday I was still on my pre-race diet. JP saved me a bite of his donut, which was just the right amount.  We stayed at the  Best Western  on the Wisconsin side of the bay. Rooms for this race were impossible to find in February and March of this year. I was hap...

Originally published Sept 14, 2015  While you’ve been reading some of my posts about cats,   yoga ,   chocolate   and other randomness, I finally did finish this book. The reading of this work has been an enormous undertaking. It’s not the size of the work (although I might also be able to conquer a small island armed only with this book) but 400 years of a rape of an island, rape of a culture and rape of the Filipino psyche. I undertook this book in an effort to follow a rabbit down a hole. Primarily, it was a recommendation from Scott Walker, author of Edge of Terror, previously reviewed on this   blog . Second, I wanted to know why my mother’s birth certificate was   destroyed during World War II .    Lastly, I sought to know about the rule of the Spanish and the Americans as a means to understand the “why” of the migration of my family from the Philippines to America. What I got was a mixture of war, politics, economics and culture. It makes s...

Original published July 22, 2016   My writing pace is glacial. I told Dr. Gonzales I would review  this book  during Snowmageddon 2016 . Here I am mid-July with my book review.  My contact with Dr. Gonzales has been like Marius and Lestat in the previous post.  After much loss, Marius revealed their vampire origins. After much research, writing and finally getting my hands on this book, I now know why spent my 20s angry, confused and on the verge of alcoholism. I started this blog 2 years ago to explain it to myself. I am glad this book was released this past winter or I might not have started this journey.  Anecdotally, Dr. Gonzales has written having spent a lot of time among students with undocumented status. He did the work on the ground, formed relationships with these students and became a thought leader in the present day immigrant rights movement. Naturally, I  stalked  his work on FB,  YouTube  and  internet ...

  Originally published September 18, 2014