Language Barriers I had Before Even Immigrating

A common experience expressed by migrants to another country is the struggle with communication, both verbal and nonverbal, both in the professional and informal settings. Nuances of a language, intonation and context can take a lifetime to learn, so having to deal with a brand new vocabulary in a new environment is a huge undertaking.

It’s like riding a car on a slightly foggy and rainy day. Being in the car you get a sense of location and movement which feels reassuring, but it is a bit challenging to look too far ahead because what you see from all directions is just slightly obscured. And then, there needs to be the ongoing constant effort to at least maintain the limited sense of clarity by turning on the windshield wipers constantly and de-fogging the windows of the car. All, this, but mentally, and with words and interpretation of these words.

And then, there’s the disconnection, of acknowledging extra voices and interactions around as background noise. Sure, there is meaning that would have been interesting, but just really inaccessible. So you try to just let it flow around you.

The interesting this is, I’ve had these feeling even before migrating to the other side of the world. And it all began in the village where I grew up in the Philippines.

The only languages I know are Tagalog/Filipino, and English from school. Here’s the rub, the common language used in day-to-day life in the village is Ilocano, and the native language of the indigenous peoples in the area is Ibaloi. So, I would know some key vocabulary in these languages, such as the name of the indigenous special ritual is “canao”, and I know the swear words and expressions in Ilocano such as “anya met tennen”. But I was never proficient enough to hold a conversation in either language. I’m not sure whether my parents and the nannies we had made an attempt in the first place, I would have been too young to remember.

And then, I ended up living with my grandmother for a significant portion of my childhood years. Tagalog would have been her third language, so she is good but not a complete natural. When she gets upset and starts to scold me, she would speak in Pangasinense, which is not great, because it means I actually don’t know what she is upset about. Nagging in itself is not a horrible thing that parents or elders do, but understanding why would have been helpful. Whenever she has important conversations with my aunts and uncles, or gossiping with the neighbours, I am able to pick important words here and there to know what the topic is, but not what the details are. It feels like being a wallpaper but just a bit more aware than one.

I attended a pipe ceremony a few months ago here in Edmonton. After the formal ceremony was over and all the guests were gathered around having food, I ended up sitting beside the Indigenous elder who facilitated the ceremony earlier. We chatted about where we came from, and he shared really fascinating stories about Filipinos coming to North America even before the Europeans came. We ended up talking about languages, where I sheepishly admitted that I only know the national language in my country of origin. He said he can relate to the feeling of embarrassment, as it is similar to an Indigenous person in Canada knowing only English and none of the other native languages.

So, here in Canada, when I am in a court room of a lawyer’s Bar Admission ceremony and everyone is happily speaking in Nigerian dialect, that disconnect is nothing new. When I was in a Indian wedding and the entire ceremony was in Hindu, I relied on reading the body language and location of everyone else around me. When I’m in a group of people who are born-and-raised in this city, speaking in English, but making references to events that happened before I immigrated here, I know the limitations of what I can grasp and comprehend.

And that is because of the early, unexpected training. It’s not necessarily a bad thing. You look forward to the moment when they finally remember that you can’t understand, and then they engage you in the conversation. Also, it helps me empathize with my spouse when he is around my own relatives during gatherings with most, if not, all Filipinos. Maybe this does make me dream of having that universal translator gadget that they have in Star Treck. Google Translate has a long way to go.

Story Time: My Mother and the Sharply Folded Paper Airplane

The creative streak in my nuclear family came from my mother. She was a fan of decorating the home, reconfiguring the layout and the furniture to maximize the small two-bedroom apartment that houses a family of six, the parents, the yaya (nanny) and the three kids. It is evident from her elegant handwriting and her signature, and how she is in charge of helping us kids with art related school projects.

She told us the story of how she initially went to university to pursue a Bachelor of Commerce degree and switched halfway through to take Architecture. She can write and draw with both her left and right hands, which was a blessing since my brother, the youngest child, ended up being left-handed.

My father worked as a supervisor for the Safety Department of the mining company, in the village where we used to live. As a result of his job, and perhaps, his love of recycling, he would bring home stacks of paper from the office that we end up using as scrap paper. Most days, he would use these scrap paper to help us with our 5 o’clock study habit. He would take our notebooks where we had a new lesson for the day, craft a simple one-page “exam” to help us test our knowledge, and hand it over for us to answer after we do our homework and read these notebooks. Every time there is a major exam in school, he would compile all these daily exams and it comes a longer practice exam for us to work on. A pretty smart system if you think about it.

As any parent would attest, kids love to doodle and do other fun artistic activities, just to explore and let their imagination run wild. Thanks to the endless supply of paper from our father, finding materials for this purpose is never an issue.

I have a very specific memory of my attempts to fold paper airplanes and make them fly. With the awkward way I fold them though, they would either unravel or would not even leave the dining table after I try to launch them. My four year old self got discouraged. Then my mother reached out, grabbed a fresh sheet of scrap paper, and showed me step by step how to fold a paper airplane. She mentioned how making the edges of the paper meet but not overlap is important, that pressing firmly from end to end will help the fold stay in place. Her airplane was this thing of beauty, of precision and elegance.

She shared another trick to see whether you made a good airplane. The tip of the plane has to be pointy, and she demonstrated this by poking my nose with her airplane. It was sharp and also ticklish, and made me burst into laughter. She forgot about making it fly, as she proceeded to chase me around our dining area, trying to poke me again with the tip of this precisely assembled paper airplane.

The laughter and the teasing usually came from my father, as all our relatives, neighbours and family friends would attest. He is definitely the comedian in every setting, having a joke ready for everyone he meets. This makes this encounter with my mother something worth cherishing, a break from her “persona” as the stoic, workaholic, dedicated and strict one.

Letter to My Departed Parents and Sister on My Wedding Day

By: Giselle General

Terms and Definitions: Mama is how I refer to my mother, Papa is how I refer to my father and Ate (ah-teh) is how I refer to my older sister.

Dear Mama, Papa and Ate,

Guess what? I just got married!

It’s safe to say that a part of me wished that you all were there. Frankly though, since it has been twenty years since you three passed away, I have a bit of trouble imagining how that feels like. Would I like the feeling of being “walked down the aisle”? The wedding was in a public park, so there was no ‘walking down the aisle’ involved. All the attendees, the nine people, just gathered around. Would I have liked having a sister to brainstorm the wedding details with? Ate, you had a boyish personality when we were kids, but Mama did an amazing job planning our outfits as kids, during Sunday mass or special occasions. I wonder what the two of you would have commented about my choice of a wedding dress. In some ways, I know very well I’m too independent for my own good. So, sorting out many details in solitude, while delegating or brainstorming with him, feels natural to me. No wedding consultants, no bridesmaids, no entourage, none of that.

Throughout the planning and ceremony, we did try to incorporate our family’s story and memories. Instead of a ‘scripture reading’ about marriage, I wrote a page-long speech retelling the love story that made our family, and a moment of silence to acknowledge your meaning in our lives to this day. I also spent part of the morning of the wedding day replicating a photo I saw in Mama and Papa‘s wedding photo album. It’s a photo of the wedding outfits laid down on the bed. The only thing is, sharp patterns of our bedsheet made the wedding attires not stand out as I had intended. I took the photo anyways, since it would be a nice keepsake either way. It’s clear I am not an expert photographer, haha!

I wonder how you would feel about the fact that it was I, the woman, who proposed to Corey. He took it well, and he even said that he was relieved that I was the one who proposed first. He said that his would be slightly less…eloquent. That made me laugh since it’s true. Between the two of us, I am the creative one, the writer.

Another kicker is this, I’m not taking his last name! Now more than ever, I really appreciate how things work in the Philippines, where kids get their mother’s maiden name as their middle name, and their father’s last name as the family name. So that’s me: Giselle Quezon General, where in all of my identification documents I get to keep a piece of both parents. Thank goodness, my lovely husband is pretty understanding and respectful about this. So, for the rest of my married life, I have a wedding ring to wear, will declare in my forms that I’m married, and will still be referred as Miss Giselle Quezon General.

A group of four people photographed together, mother, father, groom, and bride

The wedding planning was a bit abrupt, but it felt it was the right move. The wedding took place just within two months after we got engaged. I feel a bit choked up about my mother in law’s medical situation; we found out about the diagnosis this spring. Having a serious illness that can be brutal and unpredictable really sucks. This is why Corey requested that instead of having the wedding on our 10th dating anniversary in 2020, he wanted to have a ceremony ASAP. The only set of parents we have is his, and I’m more than happy to do everything in my power to ensure their active presence and participation in this special day.

If you were wondering why the other relatives were not on this ceremony, I took the inspiration from our very own family, having an initial small ceremony and then a bigger one later on. I remembered when I had to get a copy of the marriage certificates for my immigration paperwork, I needed to remember which wedding date to put on the forms. Civil wedding was in March and church wedding was in June of the same year. So I’d like to celebrate with a bigger event with everyone else when Corey and I hit our 10 year anniversary as a couple in 2020. For someone who is not yet 30 years old, a 10-year anniversary of a relationship is huge! I hope that the extended family will be inclined to come and celebrate next year, and share their wisdom about their own married lives.

Greg ended up being my ring-bearer, and he did an excellent job. I figured, all those times when he did the same task as a little boy will ensure he’ll pull this off with no issues. He did share a few stories from his perspective as a child, being bored with having to be stiff and quiet the entire time during the hour-long wedding ceremony. He said, a trick is to play a bit with the fancy beads on the pillow to kill the time. I laughed quite a bit upon hearing this. And I promised him, the ceremony would be so much shorter.

A few things I take as an exciting challenge are any opportunities that let my artistry shine, saving money, and recycling. My dress was lovely, comfortable, second hand and a great price! Everyone was willing to transport us around, so we didn’t need to rent a limo, we can get hammered with drinks and not worry about driving. Our officiant is the pastor from our neighbourhood, who was gracious enough to accommodate our short-notice date, but to offer a very eloquent, beautiful ceremony that is also non-religious. A good friend of his offered to take professional-grade photographs as a wedding gift. The location was something I crafted, an outdoor mural from a few years back, and I managed to replicate a hand-painted smaller version onto our cake topper. I made my veil and with the same fabric, I made a pocket square for his suit. The restaurant offered lots of choice in the food and we didn’t have to worry about the expense of having a ‘set menu’ and upsetting anyone who has different food preferences. I’m pretty darn proud with how the wedding turned out because of all of these.

My mother-in-law, and everyone else, had a lovely time at our small, intimate, relaxed wedding ceremony. For me, the best part, is that the she still remembered the next day, and a few days after that. I genuinely cannot plan a wedding for 200, 100 or even 50 people on such short notice, both in terms of time, energy and money. Will other people be understanding and compassionate? During your time, did people get upset that they weren’t invited to your wedding? Based on the photos it seemed like you had a roughly 200-people guest list. I heard of other brides having the same dilemma, stressing so much over the guest list. Because ours is so short notice, once we decided “Immediate Family Only Plus Their Spouses” for this one, it gave us a huge sense of clarity.

Mama and Papa, a part of me wants to believe that this incident was a blessing, a positive sign. You see, Greg had brought over to Canada the jewelry box that was used for your wedding in 1989, and inside, is the ‘golden wedding cord’ that is used in Filipino Catholic weddings. Yours is special because your names and the wedding date is engraved on the golden heart that holds the cord together into an infinity loop. We were planning to use this to hold our rings during the ceremony. About three weeks before the wedding, my roommate and I discovered that not only is it a fancy box, it’s a music box! A music box that still works after 30 years! The melody is lovely and both my roommate and I burst into tears when we first heard it. I took a video of the music and asked around what song it was. Turns out it is “Memories” by Barbara Streisand, or from the musical CATS. Our officiant, and my older co-workers confirmed the song. Now, I want to learn how to sing the whole thing, since it’s now very special for many reasons. We’re keeping the music box of course, in case Greg want to use it for other reasons in the future.

I hope that I get to find my own special and fitting definition of being committed to someone for the long term, being each other’s motivations, upholding our right and responsibility to care for ourselves, and nurturing a positive life together. Wherever you may be, I hope that these words and sentiments would reach you somehow.

With all my heart,

Giselle

Story Time: A Memory of My Sister’s Favourite Boy Band Song

Story time again! Sharing stories like this like this one about my father and I as a child staying up late feels right, and I would like to continue doing so. Today’s story features my sister.

My sister, Genevieve was fairly young, and so was I, when she passed away with our parents. I remember her as very outdoorsy kid, very social and friendly with everybody. While she was seen as a tomboy who like sports and rough games with boys, her best friends are girls and she enjoys playing ‘girly games’ with me and her best friends. Because she is older, I have to call her “Ate” pronounced as “ah-teh” before her name, out of respect. I can say the title and then her name or nickname, so something like Ate Genevieve or Ate Babes or simply Ate. Depending on what’s going on, while I cannot eliminate that word when I’m addressing her, my tone of voice clearly expresses how I feel about her at the time, whether it’s curiosity, amusement, excitement, or annoyance. We bicker like mad, which drove our parents crazy.

Boy bands were the rage in the late 90’s and early 2000’s, and the hype is international. How can you tell? If a small mining village in a country in Asia has kids and teens raving about boy bands from the USA, that’s how.

There is this song named “I Swear” by Boys 2 Men that she really liked. Given that this was the era before internet was accessible, and cable TV is a costly thing that not all homes have, the opportunity to listen to your favourite song or artist is a rare treat. This is because you get to hear it only when it gets played on the radio, on the TV during a music video or a recording of a concert, or if you are lucky, your friend might have a cassette from the band and a player in their home.

I included the lyrics of the song below:

I swear
By the moon and the stars in the skies
And I swear
Like the shadow that’s by your side


I see the questions in your eyes
I know what’s weighing on your mind
You can be sure I know my part
‘Cus I stand beside you through the years
You’ll only cry those happy tears
And though I make mistakes
I’ll never break your heart

[Chorus:]
And I swear
By the moon and the stars in the skies
I’ll be there
I swear like the shadow that’s by your side
I’ll be there
For better or worse, ’till death do us part
I’ll love you with every beat of my heart
And I swear


I’ll give you every thing I can
I’ll build your dreams with these two hands
We’ll hang some memories on the walls
And when, and when just the two of us are there
You won’t have to ask if I still care
‘Cus as the time turns the page, my love won’t age at all

And I swear
I swear by the moon and the stars in the skies
I’ll be there
I swear like the shadow that’s by your side
I’ll be there
For better or worse, ’till death do us part
I’ll love you with every beat of my heart
And I swear

And I swear
I swear by the moon and the stars in the skies
I’ll be there
I swear like the shadow that’s by your side
I’ll be there
For better or worse, ’till death do us part
I’ll love you with every beat of my heart
And I swea
r

I was about seven when I first heard the song. I thought it was a nice tune. My sister’s enthusiasm was quite infectious that I was encouraged to at least learn the chorus of the song so I can sing it along with her. Not gonna lie, I cannot remember how her voice sounds like, same with my parents. But given our father has a decent singing voice, and that we have enough relatives from both sides of the family that has interest or talent in music, I would think that she at least can carry a tune.

I wonder what made her (and presumably her friends) and me like the song. Was it because it was what’s trending at the time, with the cool romantic lyrics in English? Was it because of how good the sound with the multiple singers vocalizing? Was it because it appeals to the Philippine culture in major ways, particularly with the eloquent and expressive romantic lyrics?

I personally have never forgotten the chorus of the song, and it pops up in my memory sometimes, like the scene in the Pixar Movie “Inside Out” when the child Riley remembers the song from the bubble gum commercial. It’s one of the very few, and by that it is very few memories I have of her. And it’s likely why I hope it stays in my memory banks in a premium spot for a while.


Love Language Reflections: On Listening Without Judgment

Sometimes, we hesitate talking to the ones whose advice, support, and approval we value the most: our love ones. Whether that is our significant other, family members, or treasured friends, we are most afraid to be vulnerable to these wonderful people in our lives, because we are also afraid of judgment. A disapproving look or reaction from them would hurt so much more than one from a stranger.

The skill of listening without judgment is a very difficult one, and for our loved ones whose well-being we are very invested on, it sounds like not showing outward reactions is counter-intuitive.

I remember when my brother was dating someone who, looking back now, is not a great fit. The fallout of the breakup was pretty rough on him, he had to scale back the classes he was taking that semester. It took all of me to not tell him how he is “stupid” for staying or how “bitchy” she is for behaving like that. Making him feel like a failure is not going to help with recovering at his own pace and moving on. I told him more that once that in my first relationship in Canada I experienced through the exact same thing, the breakup was too much for me mentally, I dropped one class during the semester of winter 2009 and made up for it through an online course in the spring. By connecting what he went through with a similar experience I had, I aimed to not show harsh judgment for what happened. I hoped I achieved the goal at that time.

Just recently, I told my spouse about a dilemma I have at work. As someone who works in the nonprofit sector helping vulnerable people, gut-wrenching stories about people’s suffering is something I hear about all the time. As I shared to him my dilemma, I was very relieved that he did not mock me for my ‘over the top’ idea on how to possibly the client. He acknowledged how emotionally invested I have become for clients sometimes, emphasized the value of setting some separation between work and personal life, and suggested alternate ways to channel my frustration about the flaws of society.

A tactic to curb this almost-impulsive tendency to judge what we hear is to ask more questions. When our love ones vent about their situation, by asking them to rehash certain details, it can help them let off steam. It becomes evident that a reaction or advice from the listener is not even necessary.

Another thing I have learned, speaking of the idea that advice is not what they are seeking, is to actually listen to cues that prompt you to give feedback. Something like “what do you think” or “what should I do” or “any suggestions or thoughts?” And if this does not come up at all, perhaps they just want to vent. I think that people in general are more hesitant to say “I don’t need advice, just a listening ear and maybe a hug.”. Many times, this is actually the default. So I’m working on paying attention to this detail moving forward.

For my spouse, when I want to run something through him, I actually start by saying “baby love, I’d like your thoughts about something“. So, when I start my talk by jumping to the story, or even making complaining mumbling noises, he knows that all I need is a hug, a moment of sympathy, and a listening ear.

In many conversations, in many relationships we have, we take turns doing the role of the giver and the receiver, the supporter and the seeker for help. This form of love language is vital for all these valuable people in our lives, and also for ourselves.

How Romance and Community Service Intertwine

By: Giselle General

My significant other is born-and-raised in this city we call home. He hasn’t experienced living anywhere else, not counting the times he had to go out of town for work, his travels, or when he came with me to visit and tour the Philippines. Staying in those places are temporary and that was very clear, and at the end of that short timeframe, it will lead to going home again to Edmonton.

While in my case, I grew up in a small mining village in the Philippines, and even continued to live there after my parents and sister passed away. It was unexpected circumstances that prompted me to move to the nearby city to finish high school, and then I was told I’m moving to another part of the world. When I came to Canada, I thought that I will be able to build relationships and set roots in St. Catharines, Ontario, when an abrupt move to Edmonton changed things again.

We had conversations about our future. and it is established that we will be in Edmonton for the rest of our lives. This is not something I wasn’t “over the moon” about exactly, but I’m not actively opposed to it either. It is a good city to live in, with decent opportunities and ways to have an enjoyable life, and I get the benefit of being with people who have lived here for much longer than me. I know that for some couples, location and mobility are key factors in their relationship, and I’m more than happy to be swayed by his desire to build roots here, or in his case, keep and grow the ones he already had.

I guess it is good to do things from a place of love. Because I associate my spouse as being part of this city, I feel more inclined to actively love and care for this place as well.

I told him, if we are going to live here forever, might as well do something to make improvements or keep the good things as they are. In my younger years, getting involved in clubs is something I always enjoy. It is pretty rewarding to be part of a group, with a positive and productive goal, even if it sucks up part of one’s spare time. Turns out, finding ways to do community service here is very easy, given that there are lots of choices. In fact, it can be too easy to get overwhelmed!

That is what inspired me to volunteer for the community league. It is pretty neat that there is a formal organization, that has a structure, funding mechanisms and established processes, for people whose affiliation is just one thing: that they live near each other and want to do good things for their neighbours. It has been three years since I started volunteering, and my spouse and I have a specific tasks that we diligently fulfill.

That is what motivated me to find my happy medium of getting involved in my cultural community, and with the city at large. He knew that writing and journalism is an interest of mine, and he cheered me on when I started writing columns for a provincial cultural newspaper for the Filipino community. He has even helped me with topics or phrasing, when the annoying ‘Writer’s Block’ hits me at unexpected times.

Being conscious of how your significant other navigates your city can encourage you to speak out in ways you haven’t anticipated before. For example, my spouse was very concerned about the changes in the transit system because of how it will affect me, as someone who does not drive. While a typical person who drives might not care as much, he was inspired to answer the online surveys, come with me to the in-person engagement sessions, and half-jokingly asks me whether we should sell the house so I get the same frequent bus access that I currently have.

The River Valley System of Edmonton is a huge part of our relationship. A few of our first dates consisted of walking through these beautiful natural trails. A longer hike is an annual tradition for us. Naturally, when we discovered that there is a formal organization that focuses on preservation of the River Valley, I considered participating. Oh, if only I have more hours in the day! Or maybe, there will be an opportunity or schedule when this will work better in the future. For now, when we are wanting a more casual date, we’ll continue to use this network of trails and doing our best to be responsible users of this incredible natural resource. We are subscribed to the newsletter of this conservation society, and we try to keep up to date on relevant news and research.

I guess it is good to do things from a place of love. Because I associate my spouse as being part of this city, I feel more inclined to actively love and care for this place as well. I hope that more people feel the same way about where they are living right now.

Story Time: A Memory of My Father, With Chocolate, Milk, and Basketball

Given the recent victory of the Raptors not too long ago, which is a huge deal for basketball fans, me trying to not eat too many chocolate bars recently, and having trouble sleeping some nights, I thought of something that my father and I used to do when I was a kid. Late night basketball with chocolate bars.

It involves this particular brand of chocolate bar. Do they even sell these in Canada? I actually don’t think so. I can’t seem to remember the last time I saw one in a store. Typically in corner stores, grocery stores, vending machines, and pharmacies, I would see other ones like Resse’s Cups, Coffee Crisp and KitKat, but not this one. The next time I see one I’ll buy it right away.

Crunch chocolate bar. This blog is #notsponsored by the way, haha!

As a child, I’ve always been afraid of breaking the rules. I get really anxious when I am unable to do what I was supposed to do, especially if that rule is supposed to be a good thing. Say, for example, sleeping at night so that I am well-rested and ready for school the next day.

On more than one occasion, I would wake up in the middle of the night, between 11:30 PM and midnight, and I would try to get off the bed I share with my sister, and try to not step over our nanny who is sleeping on a mat at the bottom of our bed. I’d try to get to the living room of our small apartment and would usually see my father, lying on the couch, watching NBA. Based on the few paraphernalia we have a home, I vaguely remember him being a fan of the Chicago Bulls.

Anyways, younger me would anxiously approach him and in a very sad and scared voice, tell him that I couldn’t sleep. That I wanted very badly to fall back to sleep but just couldn’t. To my relief, he would not scold me for getting up. Instead, it became a special opportunity to spend some time together, just him and me, the middle child.

We would even have a snack together. And somehow, almost every time I’d get up this late, there is a Crunch chocolate bar in the fridge. We do sell it in our small sari-sari (convenience) store that is a 15 minute walk away from our house. He would grab it from the fridge, nice and cold and crisp, break it in a few pieces before opening the packaging, and he would hand me a small piece while he eats one until we finish it up. We’d do this in companionable silence, while watching the basketball teams trying to shoot one more time, trying one more dunk.

Sometimes I get another treat. In the Philippines, powdered milk is more common than fresh milk, as it is cheaper and it lasts longer. You can keep a tin or a box on your kitchen counter for weeks or months with no issues. There are brands of milk that is recommended for school children, toddlers, and of course, infant formula. At around this time, my little brother is a toddler, and there is a can of powdered milk my parents bought especially for him. The funny thing is, he hated that milk so much. He pretty much preferred the cup of coffee with powdered creamer that my mother drinks. As soon as he saw our mother with a cup, he’s just go and grab it. My parents freaked out at the sudden motion, since a child getting scalded by hot coffee is not a fun scenario.

Anyways, regarding powered milk, I love it so much! Powered milk of any kind, I’m all for it. Since we both know that the milk will go to waste because my brother doesn’t drink it, my father would make me a glass. The typical formula to make it warm enough for kids and ensuring the powder get dissolved: you pour 1/4 cup of boiling water in a cup, pour the powdered milk, usually two tablespoons, a teaspoon of sugar, stir what’s in the cup so far, add room temperature water until the cup is 3/4 full, and stir again.

Around closer to midnight, my father would encourage me then to try to go back to bed. And it usually works. The next moment, I’d be hearing the voice of either of our parents, waking up both my sister and me at 6 AM to get ready for school. Some of the time, when their calls are not enough, our father would yank the blankets off, resulting to me and my sister whining a little bit before getting up.

I think that many of us have memories of seemingly small interactions with the adults in our lives. It’s interesting to find the more adult language to describe the scenery, dialogue, and the feelings that our childhood selves have. I wonder if because the fact that my mother, father, and sister passed away many years ago, that these memories are still here, perhaps a subconscious way to hold on a part of them in my life. Writing out this story is a really good experience for me, so I might do more of it in the future.

Habits Osmosis – Couples Absorb Each Other’s Behaviours

By: Giselle General

Eight years in a relationship which consisted of five years of cohabitating, and three months of intense travel beforehand is a good chunk of time to learn about your significant other. At least that is what I would argue in my case. It’s safe to say that because of our drastically different upbringing and life experiences before we started dating, that there are some differences in our personalities and habits.

We do share a lot of common values, the ones that matter most to both of us, otherwise we would not still be together. Both parties are very diligent with communicating well, expressing our love can care for each other, and working together to maintain our home and relationship. There are some aspects of our relationship that are less contentious compared to other couples. Religion and race are not sticking points between us which is a huge relief. In contrast, we are born-and-raised in different environments, with him growing up in Edmonton, Canada with a middle-class family where the father worked and the mother stayed at home. On the other hand, I grew up in a small mining village in Benguet, Philippines, being orphaned at the age of eight are raised ‘by the village’, then immigrated to Canada as a teenager and adjusted to life here.

There are certainly traits, that in the beginning of the relationship, was clearly evident on one person only. It’s normal to describe the other as the “clumsy one” or the “chatty one”, and it can be with any other traits as well. That being said, direct and indirect influences can make an impact in one’s habits and behaviours.

His Creativity – Painting Miniatures and Trying Artistic Ideas

For our first year anniversary I crafted a shadow box with sticker lettering, printed photos of us, and colourful strips of paper with very adorably cheezy romantic statements. It wasn’t until when I moved in with him that he said he loved my arts and crafts work and would like me to do more.

For several years since then, most of the artistic projects are done by me alone. There were a few times when he would provide input whenever I feel stuck in a rut, but the hands on work is completed by me most of the time. In fact, he had a kit of unpainted miniatures and supplies he left untouched for a while, until I started painting some of these models.

But things have changed over the recent months and years. He has pursued his own ways of being creative. Speaking of those unpainted miniatures, he painted almost a hundred of them over six months, while watching Star Trek episodes on the TV. Our dining room table has a direct line of sight to the living room, so with all the art supplies splayed out on the table, he would be half-listening to the TV while choosing the paint colors for a magician’s robe, or the skin colour of the imps, or how much additional red spotches of paint he wanted to add on a zombie.

And then lately, he joined a running group that encouraged him to decorate his own shirt. He bought a plain cotton shirt, and used the fabric paints I have to decorate it, including a funny pun that apparently half of his group understood.

My Organization Skills with Personal Finance

He told me when we first started dating, that us getting together is what prompted him to purchase his first home. And when he purchased his first home, he purchased a budgeting software called MoneyDance and he’s used it ever since.

My first attempt at using this software didn’t go very well, I was a bit too impatient and overwhelmed with the features and the reality of those numbers staring at me. But last year, I finally took the leap and gave it another go. After a few months, my bank eliminated the online budgeting feature on their website, so the switch to using our own software was pretty timely.

Now, since we use the same software, we are more in-tune with our language when it comes to organizing our money. While I’m not as particular with tinkering with the charts and graphs feature, I appreciate the reliable way to organize my financial information. Now that it has been a year and a half since I started using the software, I have the ability to compare what happened at the exact same date a year ago. This has become a really useful tool for making plans, and setting healthy boundaries without feeling guilty.

For better or for worse, we have been considering ourselves as a unit, and taking on each other’s traits is an inevitable part of that. There are more positive traits that I do hope I gain from him, both through a combination of modeling (just by seeing someone do it on a regular basis) and finding my own version of implementing it.