Magdaragat, page 29
In his voice, I read that he believed his grandchildren had never played with traditional toys. What he did not know was that I had just been given one by a friend. It made me feel close to him. A new quest began to attain more copies of the book to give to the rest of the family.
It has taken quite a bit longer to get to this than I would have liked, as I’ve started a new job. Delightfully, I now work at the Ottawa Haunted Walk. This, of course, aligns with my Death Witch sensibilities. Being paid to wear the cloak and tell ghost stories is a dream I’ve always had. Now, I’m the Official Lorekeeper. This title has extended from being the Family Historian to being a Professional Storyteller. I find myself flourishing. My crafts will haunt the gift shop until a guest invites them into their home. I ran a booth in a market, peddling charms and collages of my own design.
I could feel myself remembering this summer fondly in the future. Connected to time in ways previously unimaginable, broadening my horizons. To be truthful, my heart is usually heavy with self-loathing. These past few months have lifted some of that burden from my soul. I’ve begun to internalize the idea that the knowledge I possess is a Gift. Not everyone has the stomach, patience, or resources to build such a robust spiritual vocabulary, especially about Death.
Kaleidoscope 2022 was so eventful I could write an entire book about the experience. This was a spiritual gathering in a wonderful place called Raven’s Knoll and in fact was my first time attending. A journalist had come to my little stall in the woods, and I had returned after some shenanigans that are a detour too long for these pages. He had requested a pendulum with skulls and other death imagery. I laughed and said he had come to the right place; of all the shops, he wandered into the domain of a Deathling.
Our conversation swiftly turned into an interview. He asked me about what it meant to be a Death Positive person. I answered, “My goal is to help the community when a living person is taking the journey to become an ancestor.” We spoke about many things, and I was more than happy to explain. He was curious about me — not only for real life but also for some creative writing he wished to do.
I began recounting stories of the week and my life — he took out his phone and began to record. I confided that my father had at first been confused and disgusted with my desire to be a Death Counsellor. By the end of my experiences with Papa Ven’s funeral, he pulled me aside and told me he had asked about the funeral home’s hiring process in an implied approval. This included me counselling a recently diagnosed cancer patient, explaining how space and time works, and my views on the universe.
The last words he recorded were, “Death is not the end. It is a transition.”
Live and die well, friends.
Alma Salazar Retuta, MD
My journey as a doctor in Canada
My husband and I were originally doctors of veterinary medicine. This was post-2000s. We got married, settled in Baguio City in Northern Philippines, had five kids. My husband put up a farm and a clinic and pet shop. I went back to school at age thirty-five to become a doctor of medicine.
After passing the boards, I started neurology residency training at Saint Luke’s Medical Center in Metro Manila, but being away from my family took its toll, and I did not finish my residency. I then went into internal medicine at Saint Louis University in Baguio and completed my residency.
We had a good life plan. I would have a clinic. My husband and I would continue our pet shop and veterinary clinic and farm. Our kids would go into vet med, medicine, or engineering, and we would all live happily ever after. That was our fairy-tale dream. Not in a million years did I ever plan or even imagine going abroad. I didn’t want to raise my kids abroad as I was afraid that they would lose the Filipino values that we took so much pain to instill in them.
Then one day, I was on post-call (from overnight duty) during residency training, and an attending physician reprimanded me for something that was not my fault. I felt very embarrassed, upset, and aggrieved. At that vulnerable moment, my sister-in-law, who is also my best friend, asked if I wanted to go to Canada with her family. I said yes, and here we are!
We came to Calgary in June 2011. We wore multiple layers to save luggage space. We wore winter jackets, snow pants, scarves, bonnets, and gloves, in June! Then we noticed that most people were wearing shorts and tank tops, and as we got out of the airport, we found out that it was summer in Canada.
On this fateful day, I met my first friend in Canada and inadvertently found my first job. She was a Filipino-Canadian woman who was offering credit cards to passengers at the airport. I asked her if her company had any job openings and was hired on the spot, along with my eldest daughter. On our first day of Canadian work experience, we earned fifteen dollars an hour with an additional fifty cents for every credit card application we were able to get. I worked there for about four months, then moved on to work as an at-home call centre agent for TELUS for almost five years.
Since I worked from home, I had time to work a second job as a clinic aide and study for the many exams I needed to take to be licensed and recognized as a doctor here. I worked at least fourteen hours every day, seven days a week.
In the meantime, my husband worked as a window cleaner, then as a warehouse associate and forklift operator, then as an Internet and TV technician. He even had a short stint as a security officer. Now he works as a community support worker for adults with disabilities.
To practise medicine in Canada, one must pass at least four very expensive exams, take a language test (IELTS) and another qualifying exam every year, then undergo residency training for two to five years. To get accepted into residency training, one would have to get matched to a training program.
There are two pathways to a residency: one for Canadian graduates and one for international medical graduates (IMG). However, for every ten to twenty slots for Canadian graduates, there is only one or even none for IMGs. And for every one slot for IMGs, there are about 2500 to 3000 applicants, all of whom are specialists in their own right in the countries where they come from.
To complicate matters, many Canadian-born citizens who could not get into medical schools in Canada go abroad — Australia, England, or Jamaica, for example — to study medicine there. When they come back, they compete with the other IMGs as they are also considered international medical graduates. They are favoured over those of us who have come as immigrants because of the loyalty they show by coming back to serve their country. Thus, for a fifty-plus-year-old woman, this competition was proving to be not in my favour. For some reason, even if I thought I did very well in my exams and interviews, attended masses in ten churches, prayed to all the saints, and asked for “signs,” I did not get matched.
After four years, I stopped applying for residency and concentrated on just being a good clinical assistant, which has been my job for six years now. I am basically a decently paid, supervised physician in three hospitals in Calgary. I function in the same way as a doctor, admitting patients to the hospital, managing them in the units, going on twenty-four-hour and sixteen-hour calls, making prescriptions, discharging patients, doing the necessary paperwork, interacting with patients and their families, collaborating with other doctors and the multidisciplinary team, and occasionally performing minor procedures like a bone marrow biopsy or paracentesis. It is a very demanding and difficult job but a really fulfilling one with less responsibility than a fully licensed physician. I am indeed fortunate for being able to practise my profession in Canada.
Our first ten years here just whizzed by so swiftly. Through those years, I helped support four nephews and nieces, who also now have good, independent lives. My kids have almost all graduated from universities and found careers. My husband has found his retirement job, which is not too physically demanding and which he enjoys very much.
When describing the life that we left behind, I remember mostly the good things: that the temperature in Baguio is about sixteen degrees all year round except during Christmas when it falls to five to eight degrees; it is the cleanest and greenest city in the Philippines; food is cheap and really great; people are friendly; patients loved me. Life was peachy. When people hear this, they ask, “Then why did you come here?” to which I give the cliché answer: “For the kids.”
When our children and I talk about it, I tell them, well, we thought it was the best decision at the time. But really, there must have been reasons other than the kids that pushed us to make that ultimate decision to leave everything behind and take a risk somewhere else. Then I realize that we tend to forget the crimes, that one of my kids’ classmate’s father was kidnapped in broad daylight in the middle of a public place, the “padulas” that we were forced to give to the BIR lady despite our business’s immaculate books and documents, the heavy hours-long traffic, the many issues that we only remember whenever we went to visit.
Since we left the Philippines, many things have changed. Many Christmases have been missed. Many loved ones have passed. It could be sad, and sometimes lonely, and we always yearn for “home.” But I had a realization the first time we went for a vacation. As we got back here and entered Vancouver airport, I suddenly relaxed, released all tension, and thought, “Thank God, we’re finally home.” That was the first time I realized that this — Canada — is home.
Lorina Mapa
First Winter
Long Description, Page 275
Long Description, Page 276
Long Description, Page 277
Monica Batac
Sisters in Practice: A Readers Theatre Script
Performed on November 7, 2022, at Nakai Theatre’s twenty-four-hour challenge cabaret / share-back in Lefty’s Well, Whitehorse Yukon.
I, Monica, introduce the performance as a creative experiment with research interviews with Filipina practitioners in the Yukon, then we begin with these words from Filipina-American writer Barbara Jane Reyes:
Monica. “This soothsaying, this hollering me
This lyric-making me, now a dazzling we —
Ira. “We howl, we witness, we testify
We stand firm, and you cannot break us
Gwyneth. “We are raw nerves, and we are fire. We rise
And in writing, we restore our lives.”
Characters
Narrator
Monica — Social work researcher
Ira — Bachelor of Social Work student
Gwyneth — Social service practitioner
Narrator. Tonight, we centre kwentuhan, Filipino-specific ways of storytelling, conversations between Monica, Ira, and Gwyneth: intentional relationships nurtured across space and over time. Tonight, we weave their stories together.
Repeating a line from Barbara Jane Reyes, “this lyric-making me, now a dazzling we” — may we learn more about their journeys: on how they, how we, how Filipinos come to call the Yukon our home.
Narrator. Scene 1: Introducing ourselves.
Monica. I call them my sisters in practice: we are Filipinas in Canada working in the social services sector, with shared commitments to work and support fellow Filipinos, our kababayan, wherever we may be.
Gwyneth. I’m Gwyneth Williams, full name Gwyneth Iola Villoria Williams. I was born and I grew up in the United States in Washington, DC. My father’s from Wales and my mother is from the Philippines. From my mother’s side, we originate from Nueva Ecija, and the predominant Indigenous groups there are the Aeta. After studying in the UK, I worked abroad in many places, including Sri Lanka, the Philippines, and the U.S. I then moved to Canada with my partner.
Ira. I’m Ira. I’ve basically lived here all my life. I was born in the Philippines and migrated to the Yukon in 2006 with my parents and have lived here ever since. And certainly, while I’ve had my temptations of leaving and going off to the bigger cities, it’s really a special place to live.
Monica. “The Yukon is a special place to live,” she tells me. And Gwyneth, no longer seduced by some of the world’s biggest cities, chose to visit here, then chose to stay.
I am intrigued. Most of my life, I’ve stayed within a one-hour radius of Toronto. And so, with these budding friendships and a research travel grant in tow, I board two planes to land here in early February. To visit them in person.
Narrator. Scene 2: What brought us here?
Ira. For my family, it’s similar to a lot of immigrant stories: that search for a better life.
Monica. A common refrain: if you want a better life, you come to Canada.
Gwyneth. But in Toronto, we couldn’t find meaningful work. We knew we had a couple of friends who had moved out to the Yukon, so we decided in April 2016 to drive out there. We were originally thinking we’d spend just the summer visiting —
Narrator. Six years later, they’re still here.
Ira. I’ve really dug deep into understanding my immigration story and what makes me me.
Gwyneth. I’ve done some study and self-learning too.
Ira. I reflect back on my life, coming here when the Filipino population was little to none. Seeing the community grow and blossom, recalling the challenges that I faced, my parents faced, coming to rural Northern Canada …
Narrator. Please, continue …
Ira. I really admire how our Filipino community here has remained resilient. If you think about it, I mean, you’re moving from a country where it’s very collectivist and you’re around people all the time.
Narrator. Plus, it’s really hot in the Philippines —
Ira. And then coming to a place like the Yukon, where it’s winter eight-plus months of the year —
Narrator. So cold.
Monica. So VERY cold.
Ira. Where there’s a new language, new culture, new society, new customs.
Gwyneth. Filipinos are the most resilient humans — I mean, I know I’m biased [laughs]. But there’s a humungous population of Filipinos here in the Yukon. Such a harsh cold environment and yet they thrive.
Narrator. My God, it’s incredible.
Gwyneth. It’s incredible! I had no idea. I was just going out to the Yukon to check it out. It’s the Wild West here. Especially Dawson City, Tr'ondëk Hwëch'in territory. You really feel it, it’s one of the most famous places for the gold rush, and you still feel that really …
Narrator. [Sing-song]
Gwyneth. Freedom.
Narrator. [Ends sing-song]
Gwyneth. Like, you can do anything! You have to know how to connect with people to thrive and grow. And that’s what Filipinos know how to do.
All. That’s what we know how to do.
Narrator. Scene 3: Filipinos in the Yukon.
Ira. I would describe the community as very colourful and vibrant. We now have a Filipino restaurant and store, people are really trying to stand their ground and establish themselves here. Similar to what’s happening across Canada, employment-wise, many are in the fast-food industry, housekeeping, the medical field as well.
I’m not going to say it’s very rare to see Filipinos in leadership positions, I think that’s changing. I’m sure you’ve heard, our first-ever Filipino MLA was recently elected …
Narrator. Yvonne Clarke.
Ira. And we have a Filipina city councillor …
Narrator. Jocelyn Curteanu.
MONICA. I meet them in my first few days here.
IRA. I think people are trying to make those strides. But it’s very common that for the first five-plus years, Filipinos are remaining in the jobs they originally come here for, they get a little bit more comfortable, and then they might work up into a higher position.
The Filipino community: it’s small but growing, and I’m excited to see what’s to come.
MONICA. Witnessing the changes with my own eyes …
NARRATOR. It’s incredible.
GWYNETH. My first experience in the Yukon with the Filipino community was in this tiny place of Dawson City. And I met incredible Filipinos. I first met Filipinas working at the daycare. Incredible loving humans, my God. And then through my youth work with Tr'ondëk Hwëch'in, through the youth centre, I got to know all the youth, the Filipino youth of Dawson City, and got to know their stories, too: how they made it out here and how they’re liking it.
And then when I moved to Whitehorse, oh my gosh, I had no idea.
NARRATOR. Totoo, I had no idea too!
GWYNETH. It’s a thriving community. Every winter, all the Filipino houses in Whitehorse, folks do them up for a Christmas lights competition. You can do a little toodle around, and you know it’s a Filipino house because it’s got the incredible lantern, what’s it called again? I forgot …
NARRATOR, IRA, MONICA: Parol?
GWYNETH. Parol, yes, parol. And then, they have this epic party that everyone wants in on. All my Indigenous friends were like, what’s this party, this Filipino Christmas party? And I was like, oh, you come with me, we’ll check it out.
And there’s karaoke! Oh! That was another thing about Dawson City. The first time: there was an uncle, there was a tito there who regularly would have karaoke nights, which is so fabulous, especially in the winter months when you need community, you need some fun. They just thrive.
