SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA — Around 12 years ago, I joined the club of Filipino brides of foreign men.
It was a definite decision on my part because, well, you can’t really choose the person you fall in love with. I never saw myself as another Filipino bride to another foreign national. In my head, I was just marrying my perfect match.
However, I am constantly forced to look at things differently when I’m visiting the Philippines.
When my then-boyfriend first visited the country, it was very much apparent to me that I was looked at as “one of those” Filipinas — a “brownie” hooking up with a “whitey” for financial reasons.
It was also very obvious how other Filipino women saw him. While on a holiday in Bohol, three “tourist trappers” strolled around us for quite some time, flipping their long hairs and batting their eyelashes towards my man’s direction. They didn’t care that he was there with me — perhaps for them, it was a battle of whoever gets the guy wins. They were baiting him, just in case he decides to bite.
He gave me a quizzical look, and asked why the hell they were flipping their hair around. I explained it to him, and he shook his head, embarrassed by the blatant display of flirtation and boobage.
Later on that night, he asked me if the things he heard prior to his visit were indeed true. Were Filipino women really so desperate they’d flaunt themselves like that to get a foreign husband?
Yes, it’s true, was my honest answer. Practicality comes first. It ranks above love and desire, especially during desperate times. And when are we ever not in desperate times especially with today’s economy?
It is a sad reality. Marrying and getting whisked to another country is considered “lucky” because you get to escape poverty. It doesn’t matter if your husband cheats on you, beats you up, looks down on you — you’re encouraged to suck it up because you are “lucky”.
I have seen these marriages. The Filipino wives who get beaten up, and who need a translator to tell their stories to the authorities.
I’ve covered those stories here when I was still working in the broadcasting industry. These women hide in quiet desperation. They are certainly not “lucky” to be here.
On the flip side, although I have a good marriage, I was called “those words” too, when I first arrived in Australia — you know “mail to order bride”, “Filipina sex slave”, “child bride” and so on.
It was easy for me to brush it off because I was confident of my place and my relationship.
There are those who have a good life. They’re not necessarily all bad. I know of several Filipino women who are happily enjoying their interracial marriages, and living in different parts around the world.
It makes me very happy to know that although there is a bit of an age gap between some of these couples, their minds and hearts meet at the right point. And although, like me, they all get the same side remarks from other people, they also ignore these things, knowing that they married for the right reasons.
During one of my visits to the Philippines, Mama invited all our neighbours to our Christmas party — even the ones we weren’t that close with.
I didn’t wonder why. She wanted to show to the neighbours just how hot my husband is, and how intellectually-compatible we are. She wanted to show the “proof” that I didn’t just marry some old white dude just for the heck of “escaping” the country.
I still get those looks when I go to visit — at the airport, in the mall, doing the groceries. But it doesn’t bug me.
I know where we stand with each other, and how much we love our little mixed family. So they can stare all they want.
It makes me feel like a celebrity anyway.
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Author’s email: kmlevis@gmail.com
