I don't really go out with white men. I think they're big, lumbering, and hairy, much like Bigfoot. I don't like hairy men. They scare me. In my limited experience in dating Caucasians, I just don't really feel the vibe, since I am under the impression that they are very condescending toward our culture and people.
So I wasn't really expecting much last Saturday when I had dinner with Thomas, the German. He is 20, an intern for the Konrad Adenauer Foundation. We met during the State of the Nation Address ceremonies.
I was pleasantly surprised when we found out that we had a lot in common. He loves the beach and traveling. He just came from an exchange-student program in Bali, Indonesia (wise, that boy), and showed me his pictures during his stay there. He grew himself a full, shaggy mountain man beard (eww!), and had a laugh over his experiences.
We had dinner at a restaurant in Greenbelt, where we exchanged stories and information about our cultures. It wasn't really that I was attracted to him, more like we felt very at ease with each other.
Throughout the dinner, he talked about his life as a POOR GERMAN STUDENT (think Hideki from Chobits). So when time came to pick up the tab, I voluntarily picked up my wallet to foot my share of the bill. Normally, I wouldn't do this since Filipino women are taught that you should never pick up the tab during dates. However, I wanted to be sensitive to European customs, since he has only been in the Philippines for a week. How would he know about Filipino customs?
He said that he wanted to go somewhere quiet, so we went to my favorite hang-out place in Quezon City, Seventy-7 bar. We talked for a bit more, and he did the whole finger-tracing-palm routine (apparently, this very corny and awkwardly romantic practice trancends culture and races among college boys). It was just then when my phone rang. It was my sister, asking what I was wearing and how the date was going. Of couse, we were speaking in Filipino. I told her that I was in the Mango jumpsuit she picked out for me, and, somewhat sheepishly, admitted that we went dutch during the date. This provoked an outraged "Ano ba yan!" from my sister. I explained to her that this was European custom, and I just wanted to make the dude feel comfortable.
A few minutes after the call, the phone rings. Oh my, my sister told my overprotective aunt, who lives in Las Vegas, about my date! Just then I wanted to kill my pregnant sister. Okay, the big guns are calling. I needed to be calm and get this over quickly.
This is a translated approximation of our conversation.
"Is it true you went dutch?"
"Well, yes. I just wanted to be polite and follow their customs."
"He's in the Philippines!" she exclaimed. "
He should be following
our customs!"
"But how would he know about our customs? He's barely been here for a week?"
"Well, educate him."
"Tita, he's a poor German student. Like, he receives money from his parents. He doesn't work yet. I just didn't want to impose."
"And why, of all places, would you go to some secluded place in Quezon City? Why go so far?"
"This is not a secluded place! It's right along E Rodriguez! It is not a strange far-away place! Besides, this is my favorite restaurant. I celebrated my 22nd birthday here!"
"Fine. Is he with you."
"He's right beside me."
"All right, we'll talk later."
I had a bad feeling about this.
To Thomas' credit, he did admit that he felt embarassed because while I worked for my money, he still relied from dole-outs from his parents and the German government. Ahh, welfare.
-----
The very next day, my aunt unleashed the furies.
"Why would you allow yourself to go on a date and go dutch! Do you know what that shows? It shows that he doesn't respect you! He has no idea what you're worth!"
"Nooo it does not! I was just following customs! I just didn't want to impose."
"He's the one in the Philippines, he should adjust to our customs."
"Tita, just because we went dutch doesn't mean that he doesn't respect me; I've gone out with Filipino men who paid for everything who turned out to be complete assholes."
"If he really was a decent person, you wouldn't have gone as far as Quezon City!"
In a withering tone, I replied, "Tita! I tell you right now: you won't find any decent men in the world."
"I don't think so. I don't think so."
Exasperated, I snap back, "besides, he's white. We don't really know how he thinks! If he pays for everything, he might expect things from me!"
"No, that's not true. What about Steve? I don't think he expected things from you."
Steve was her former boss, a Bill Clinton look-alike twice my age who treated me to P 11,000 dinners and gave me my Canon EOS SLR camera in a bid to curry my favor. My family was seriously pushing me to marry him, but I said no because it was gross and I felt that he was not trustworthy. I was vindicated a few years later.
"Really Tita? Really? Do you really think Steve expected
nothing from me?"
"Oh well, really, next time, if you know the dude has no money, just take him to a cheap place"
"Look, the only reason I took him there because it was quiet. He wanted quiet. You don't find quiet in Makati."
"There has to be other quiet and cheap places in Makati."
"Tita, believe me, all the cheap and quiet places in Makati are beer halls. Otherwise, the quiet places in Makati hawk P 150 beers. That's the cheapest beverage on the list. And you know I don't drink alcohol."
This battle was completely pointless and ended in a draw.
I found comfort with my friends and my mother, who totally saw my point. My mother even gave me a piece of advice. "That's why I never dated Americans when I was single. Once, an American guy courting me brought a box of chocolates to our house. I thought they were for me, but it turned out that it was for him."
Nikki AlfarTobie AbadGabby LeeAndre Mischa Cleofe