There's no place like home

I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting when we visited the US last month, though the idea of a barren, post-apocalyptic wasteland littered with the remains of investment bankers did cross my mind at some point. So, when my mother and I arrived to the sight of a decidedly fertile, un-apocalyptic terrain littered with the usual scene of hurried commuters and informal social conventions, I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or surprised. Not that I wanted to be greeted with the unavailability of food, lodging, and greenery after an 18-hour flight on a fully-booked plane (heaven forbid). It was merely curiosity: Since my last visit two years ago, how different were things now in the midst of possibly the worst economic disaster in US history? (Aggrandized swine flu cases aside, of course)

Before I disclose to you the fruit of my extensive sleuthing — I’d like to say that these views are simply the independent ramblings of a writer in need of a spiffy article topic, and are purely limited to experiences with various people in the country’s eastern coast. And on that note, welcome to the USA.

Buy, Bye Bye

Obviously, the financial elevator plummeting to the ground has predictably tightened the purse strings of many an American citizen. In comparison to Barneys, Saks 5th Ave., and the like — outlet stores and thrift shops are veritable war zones, complete with bargain scrimmages and the exciting prospect of being trampled to death by people from all walks of life. Ultimately though, it’s not like these discount and wholesale stores are doing monumentally better than their higher-end counterparts. The fact of the matter is, everyone’s just simply buying less. Which is why it’s pretty nifty to be a tourist during these times — especially if you’re of smaller build, chinky-eyed, and itching with cash to burn. For one thing, your status as annoying-Asian-browser-in-the-corner gets bumped up to Asian-angel-sent-from-above; with the recession-smiting light of your potential purchasing power casting a warm, fuzzy haze over the hearts of dismissive salesclerks.

Maybe that’s why those Barneys’ people didn’t seem to care when I consumed copious amounts of sticky chocolate balls (as my mom half-heartedly tried on $700 pair of shoes) while relaxing on their immaculately white leather couch. Y’know… despite us not buying anything (hello?) and the no-eating-drinking-or-smoking vibe the establishment was practically oozing off.

All You (Should) Need Is Love

Frivolous spending aside, another thing I’ve noticed since my last visit comes in terms of family. The economic crisis has been able to unite families under a banner of survival and cooperation, while at the same time divorcing them on a scale so tragic as well. I’m one of the luckier ones; though my relatives definitely feel the pressure of the collapsed market on their shoulders, it hasn’t stopped them from opening their homes and treating my mom and I like constantly famished royal babies. Needless to say, though their refrigerators were down to a 10 th of what it had two years ago (among other things), there was no complaining, no ill-will. In other words, “let us worry about the saving — you guys enjoy your summer vacation.” There are things money can’t buy — and a loving, tight-knit family is at the top of that list.

Sadly, there are those who can’t seem to see beyond their misfortunes, and have transformed into self-absorbed, irritable buffoons whose daily workout consists of accusing fingers and withering glares. Blame it on a pay-cut, a lay-off, an unpayable housing debt, or a lost business venture — some really have it worst than most. Hence the reason most of these households thrive in blame and animosity, instead of in tenderlovin’ care. To share one example, I was second witness (the first was the cashier lady) to a frigid moment between mother and daughter during one slow day at Target. To make an otherwise long story short, they had an extensive argument over who would pay the bill — resulting in one furious daughter (who literally threw her credit card onto the cashier table) and one furiously blushing mother. The last thing I heard the daughter say was “My God mom!” before leaving her mother to pick up the bags and hobble quietly after.

You can only imagine what it’s like behind closed doors.

Leaving On Jet Plane

It’s common knowledge that the US has been the go-to place of hapless immigrants since time immemorial; sharing her shores to these weary souls and giving them a glimpse of glowing opportunity. In return, a variety of these people have made good of their presence via contributions to the arts, sciences, food, technologies, etc. of American society. Sure, the rest of us back home got all weepy and dysphoric seeing these fine citizens go — but hey, as long as they were making a name for themselves and the motherland, right? Incidentally, however, this whole economic riot has gotten an assortment of immigrants thinking: Is it time to go back home?

I predict that we may be greeted with reverse “brain-drain” and scattered relocations in a few months or so, as evident by the menopausal mood swings of our very aggravating weather. My mother has friends (and friends of friends of friends) who are eager to get back to Manila and to the pirated DVD’s, crazy-ass driving, ambiguous politicians, and polluted skyline of home — with or without their green card. As for the rest of the middle to upper-class Filipinos who have yet to decide, word on the street is they’re giving it serious consideration.

Will this bring about a significant change in our own economy? Only time (and better economists than me) can tell. One thing’s for sure though — there’s no place like home.