Pasalubong is a dreaded word for me. It means heavier, bulkier luggage. It connotes obligation that, when missed, begins a vicious cycle that involves, at different points, sulking and even more pasalubong. It may be that I'm young that way, ignorant and insensitive to this time-honored tradition. Or maybe it's because I've never been the gift-giver. I'm just happy to see people who I hope are happy to see me. No need for a token exchange of, er, tokens.

Still, hard-nosed as I try to be, I usually end up as a perpetuator of the cycle, a bearer of pasalubong. Usually shopped at the last minute, like tonight, as I passed by Ralph's to get cartons of cigs for a friend and cousin. I can't blame them, even I can't believe how much cheaper it is here.

Anyway. I think pasalubong is very telling of the Filipino psyche. It goes back to the 70's/80's when we could only get a taste of America from the PX store. We needed others to bring home the good stuff. And the others, who forsook friends, family and country for greener pastures, had to have something to show for all that. Pride, loss of face, guilt play into the whole thing, contributing to the whole soap opera that is our society.

Also, it's the 21st century. When my mom wanted to pack the freakin' bidet my uncle wanted, I told her we can ship things nowadays. Or these things could be ordered online. I was told that that was easier said than done. What the old folks can't fathom is that while it's still easier to say than do, the doing isn't as difficult as it used to. (As a side note, is there actually anything that's easier to do than say?)

Sigh. Anyway, my luggage is stuffed. I'm actually editing now. In goes the gourmet tuyo, out goes a couple of my t-shirts. The cycle continues. I just want to see you all, and I hope you want to see me too.