From Hong Kong, with Love
By: Shun Hing College
Tags: Balikbayan Box, Home, Shun Hing College, Covid Diaries, Ofw

Nicolo Paolo Ludovice

Balikbayan (repatriation) box. Source: Philippines Report

“I don’t think I will be able to come home for Christmas.”

Long silence.

“Because, you know, COVID.”

Another long silence.

***

As with many international students, I spend my holidays back home. My return to the Philippines is always an obstacle course. A two-hour flight, a distinct tropical humidity, long immigration queues, long lines for the airport taxi, then another three-hours on the road — two, if you are lucky. Then home.

The things that I have to do are like clockwork. Drop my bags. Bring out the egg tarts and immediately place them in the refrigerator. Hug the dog. Hug mom. Yell at my brother and announce that I have pasalubong (gifts). Unpack more gifts and set aside those reserved for friends.

Order Jollibee: one-piece chicken with spaghetti, large Coke, large fries, and two peach mango pies. Breast part. Not available? Thigh part, please.

Take a shower. Inspect my room. Check if my books are still there, open the cabinets and let the rancid air escape.

Exchange stories with mom. Comment on physical changes (“You look bigger!” “Oh, you are one to talk!”). Talk about my work (even though she just spaces out and pretends to be interested). Gossip more. Then admire her Christmas decoration.

More laughter. Jollibee arrives. Forget about diet. I am home.

***

“I have bought plane tickets last June. If things improve…Just to be safe.”

“Was it expensive?”

“Just a little bit. I bought the one that I can rebook for free.”

“You should not have bought the tickets then.”

***

My mom, an accountant by training, has known the value of money. She taught me two things about purchases. First, always compare prices. Second, do not purchase more than you need.

I did the math. I figured that if I purchased the tickets now, it would be cheaper than having to buy it around November. Even with the uncertainty of flights, at least I still had a ticket. And with a rebooking option, I could reuse it if things did not turn out great.

For mom, paying for a rebooking option was a waste. The situation, she says, calls for a better judgment on the part of the consumer, not of the company. If they think that things are not going to turn out favourably, then they should hold off on making a purchase.

I can hear her words ring through my ears every time: “You are responsible for the purchases that you make.”

We are not rich, but we have enough to live decently. Only enough.

Growing up, I did not enjoy the same privileges as some other children. We managed to eat three square meals a day, but anything in excess meant a dent on the monthly budget. During my undergraduate days, I received a daily allowance of HK$8. When professors assigned readings, or I had to contribute to buying project materials, I had to eat less or walk home.

I was taught to save from a young age. Going out and having fun cost money, so it was a waste. Spending on movie tickets was a waste. Drinking expensive coffee was a waste.

I might not have had a lot of friends, but at least I did not have to waste.

Rebooking is a waste.

***

“I just sent a balikbayan box (repatriation box) instead.”

“Anak (Son), you did not have to.”

“But I wanted to.”

***

Every Sunday, Central and Admiralty are filled with domestic helpers on their day off. I am amused when I see them eat together, practice some dance routine, or fill the air with their laughter. But I am exceptionally fascinated when I see them clutch corrugated boxes beneath their arms.

When I had enough items to maximize my box space, I assembled mine. Food products that cannot be bought in Manila were the priority: honey citron tea, spices and condiments, mooncakes from the mid-Autumn Festival, Shaoxing cooking wine and some lap cheong (always pork, never the duck liver). Chocolates too, for they are cheap if you know where to find them. A pair of sneakers and some pairs of slippers. Liquid soap, shampoo, lotion. Chinese medicine like Guan Loong Oil and Tiger Balm, as well as Pei Pa Koa. And of course, 3-ply disposable masks — indispensable in these times of COVID.

Everything needs to be packed to perfection. Gifts have labels for intended recipients, especially chocolates, which I suspect are the sources of family dispute. Make sure nothing moves. Seal the shampoo nozzles with tape to avoid spillage. Bubble wrap the glass bottles; use old clothes if necessary. Place them in the centre to avoid impact. Every space must be filled — empty space is wasted space. Packing a balikbayan box is an art.

Every balikbayan box is filled with love. They often take months to prepare. Most domestic helpers send up to 80% of their income back home. The rest is meant for personal use, but instead of spending on themselves, they buy more clothes, shoes, chocolates, and toys for their families. Often, they include handwritten letters, hoping that these boxes reach their destinations safely.

Every balikbayan box is also filled with a mild sense of regret. We hope that every item we send makes up for the distance and lost time. We ardently wish that we were the ones coming back home, instead of these boxes. Preparing a balikbayan package is to endure sacrifice. It is a personal expression of love. And there is no waste when it comes to love.

***

“I love you, Ma. I really wish I can be there. Hope to see you soon.”

“I love you too, anak. Ingat ka (Take care).”

End call.

Long silence.