A few years ago, a classmate from high school saw me in a mall shopping alone. The first words out of her mouth were, “Sinong Kasama mo? (Who are you with?).” In Filipino society, it is not uncommon to ask this question when you meet someone. When she found out I was on my own, my classmate expressed a mix of pity and concern. Unlike me, her husband was always close by. But having left the Philippines at the young age of 17 to study in the US, I’ve become a strong independent woman. I have travelled to the US, Australia, all over Asia, Argentina, and Spain all by myself. I never really minded the solitude. In fact, I enjoyed it.
But, you see, the Filipino child is never alone. In my book, Do’s and Don’ts in the Philippines, I write about the phenomenon. Filipino core values and identity centre around being with other people. For instance, means the ability to get along with others to avoid conflict. Individuals yield to the wishes of the majority, even if it contradicts one’s own wishes. There is also the value of , which refers to working for the common good of the community. It is also not unusual for Filipinos to have extended family live in their homes, like grandparents or unmarried siblings.
Filipino core values and identity centre around being with other people. For instance, Pakikisama means the ability to get along with others to avoid conflict.
Growing up with four siblings, I never experienced being alone in my life until I moved to the US for university. I distinctly remember the eerie silence of being alone in my dorm room for the very first time. It was very odd and scary, at first. But in time, I found solace in my own company, and with it - a sense of peace.
Living in the US, Australia, Singapore and Hong Kong, I was never asked who I was with. Flying solo seems perfectly acceptable in these countries.
In my month-long trip across Spain five years ago, I travelled from San Sebastian, to Bilbao, Barcelona, Seville, Granada, and Madrid; and made friends along the way. I talked to people in the train with my broken Spanish. I explored the palace of Alhambra by myself, then immediately hit it off with a couple from Argentina who barely spoke English. We spent the entire day communicating somehow, eating Tapas, and exploring the city of Granada by foot. I understood then that even when you set out on the most solitary journey sometimes, you are rarely alone.
Author Steven Aitchison said, “Being alone is a power that very few people can handle”. Last year, getting through Melbourne’s second lockdown was a different experience of aloneness for me.
Like many people, I was shaken by the intense sense of uncertainty. It was tough being confined indoors alone in a new city, enduring a climate colder and less sunny than what I was used to during an intense period of uncertainty. I was stripped of my comfort zone: traveling, exploring, talking and engaging with strangers.
In times of crisis, human connection - even for the most independent of us - feels crucial. I soon found myself seeking community with my Zen meditation sangha in Manila even if it was just through regular Zoom calls. Taking an online business course with 524 participants from around the world, I started to find togetherness in our constant zoom meetings.
If someone had asked me “Sinong Kasama mo? or ‘Who are you with?’ back then - I would’ve answered everyone. Anyone.
If someone had asked me “Sinong Kasama mo? or ‘Who are you with?’ back then - I would’ve answered everyone. Anyone.
By the time lockdown ended in Melbourne in November, I desperately craved physical togetherness. I met up and sought friends in real life. Zoom no longer cut it for me. I treasured doing the simplest things with other people like going for a drive or walking on the beach, as well as pot-luck dinners and picnics.
On the last day of summer, I joined a picnic in the Royal Botanic Gardens. There I was with six strangers, six women from six other countries, all who have lived in other countries before moving to Melbourne. We talked. We laughed. We broke bread. Once again, I was not alone.
Maida Pineda is a freelance writer. Follow her on Twitter , Facebook , Instagram
