Homework for adventurers

This is part of a series called Stories Over Coffee, where I write about my memories of growing up in Bahrain and Qatar in order to preserve them. To understand why I do so, please read this anchor post. SY 2002-2003, old PSB campus Parents have a lot of fears when it comes to sending…

The things we leave behind

This is part of a series called Stories Over Coffee, where I write about my memories of growing up in Bahrain and Qatar in order to preserve them. To understand why I do so, please read this anchor post. Leaving a country is not a solitary affair, at least not according to the Filipino diaspora…

Big girls don’t cry

in the laundry room at the end of the hall: Salihiya, Manama, Bahrain (June 2004) This is part of a series called Stories Over Coffee, where I write about my memories of growing up in Bahrain and Qatar in order to preserve them. When I was in third grade, my mom was taken to the…

Half-familiar, wholly other

on childhood kindness, ignorance, and otherness This is part of a series called Stories Over Coffee, where I write about my memories of growing up in Bahrain and Qatar in order to preserve them. When I was in elementary, I had a classmate named May. She was called a "hati"-- a term for half-Filipinos who…

Photos, floods, and stories over coffee

on losing artifacts and history Ever since I could remember, we always moved from one place to another: from the Philippines to Bahrain, then Bahrain to the Philippines then to Qatar; from one flat to another; from one job or role to another. Half of our belongings do not make it out of boxes and…

Beyond words

on friendships made immortal by memory This is part of a series called Stories Over Coffee, where I write about my memories of growing up in Bahrain and Qatar in order to preserve them. When we were in Bahrain, my mother had a best friend named Joy. She was Korean, and she wanted to learn…

Mapping memories

musings on personal geography During this quarantine, I cannot count how many articles, tweets, or posts I've read lamenting the loss of "personal places"--seemingly normal nooks and spaces that hold no meaning until someone brands it as theirs. There are some that have closed their doors, some inaccessible due to lockdown restrictions, and some lost…