Random Overseas Filipino Workers at the Airport and on the Plane

I am back in the Philippines after the longest time (unfortunately not for good). I wanted to come visit during the festive season of Christmas and the New Year but work didn’t let me (or make that – I let my work not let me). In all honesty, I wasn’t planning on being here at this time. But it so happened that my new job assignment in Egypt required me to get the entry visa from my country of nationality. So I actually thank the typical diplomatic bureaucracy for this.

Days before my flight, I was eagerly looking forward to be back home and be with my siblings (and dogs) as well as friends, some of whom I haven’t seen for around twelve years. I was also excited with the fact that I would definitely be around OFWs again as soon as I step onto the airport en route to Manila. (Yup, I must say that I am a fan of our overseas Filipinos especially given that my Mom was one. Myself still included.)

At any airport outside the Philippines, one need not check the monitors which counters passengers to our country have to check in. One just has to find the queue where there are balikbayan boxes. I remember checking-in at LAX (Los Angeles International Airport) and waiting in line at the longest queue, not because there were too many passengers but because most of the passengers had one or two balikabayan boxes in tow.

And one need not check his or her boarding pass either to know which boarding gate. One just has to look around for a crowded gate with the most activity – lots of people talking, laughing, and texting; and lots more munching on Sky Flakes, Nagaraya, or Boy Bawang. It is a homogeneous crowd of Filipinos, too, as one would only find a handful of foreigners wanting to visit the Philippines.

It also doesn’t matter if the flight is delayed or not (or if there is a terribly long layover). One can easily start chatting with any overseas Filipino which usually starts with eye contact, a smile, and the question, “Saan ka uuwi sa atin? (Where is home?)” And, with their colorful stories of life, love, and work, time just flies until one realizes that it is time to board the plane. On the plane, no matter how many hours the flight is, one is most of the time regaled with similar stories from his or her OFW seatmate (or seatmates).

Whenever I travel, especially when I am waiting at the airport and am on the plane, I usually read a good book with me, listen to my favorite songs (thank God for iPod!), or open my laptop to start writing. But not when I am going to the Philippines. For me, it is never boring to converse with an OFW. Although I must admit that there were times when my body clock wanted me to sleep but out of courtesy had to keep on listening (at least pretend to…) and hoped that the other party would eventually feel sleepy too.

Given the constraints of time and money, I haven’t been able to visit the Philippines every year since I left the country in 1997. But for the couple of times I have been, I can still vividly remember the faces and stories of OFWs I have randomly talked to at the airport and on the plane. Of course each story is different, but each one shares the same themes – of never giving up and succeeding, of having and overcoming suffering, and of leaving his or her family and coming back again.

One time, I sat with a restaurant waitress who told me she was a victim of illegal recruitment neither once nor twice, but thrice. She had to borrow money left and right regardless of the interest rate and sell whatever she and her family had left in order to pay the placement fees. When I asked her why she didn’t learn the first time, she said the only way to recoup whatever investment she made was to work abroad. “Lalo kaming babaon sa utang kung hindi ako nag-abroad dahil wala naman kaming ipambabayad in the first place (We would have fallen deeper into debt had I not worked overseas to begin with),” was her reply.

There was another time when I spoke with a domestic helper who started earning the equivalent of P5,000 each month under a very strict and abusive Kuwaiti employer (e.g., she never had days-off and was working like a horse). She worked for him, his wife who was worse than him, and their four children who practically grew up with her. When she left, her salary was only P8,000. Now she has a new British employer who is paying her P35,000 per month plus paid return airfare to the Philippines twice a year. Asked why she didn’t leave her first employer sooner, she said she couldn’t find a better alternative and that she just remained hopeful that something better would happen later.

Of all my conversations with OFWs at the airport and on the plane, I have yet to meet one who is not at all eager and excited to come back home again. For most OFWs, they make sure that they get to visit our country at least once a year and they really set aside their mandated vacation days for this. This is a significant difference with my Western colleagues who make it a point to travel to other countries whenever they are on holiday. They don’t bother to visit “home” even for a sibling’s wedding. For the most part, they only go back to their countries if a family member is dead or seriously ill.

Should one fall asleep after an interestingly long chat with an OFW, one would almost always wake up when the plane has finally landed. There is that resonant sound of applause from OFWs not necessarily for the pilot who made a smooth landing, but mainly for themselves who are happy to be home again. The first time I flew out of the country and back to the Philippines, most of the passengers except me were applauding upon landing which I found really corny. But when our plane landed this time around, I was clapping my hands along with the rest of the OFWs. It is great to be back home – even if it is only for a short period of time.