Immigration has been a sore issue these past couple of years. Which is bizarre because Australia is a nation built on different waves of migration. But believe it or not, the Philippines has a migration history as well. While many of us are deemed migrants in our new humble abode, it is interesting to remember the stories of our forebears who were migrants themselves in our motherland. Tales of promise, pain, and redemption. Sounds familiar?
Mine goes like this. My ancestor, Yu Sing Co, left China to find his fortunes in the Philippines. He arrived by boat in the early 20th century as American colonizers were settling in. He landed in Manila, but his final destination was Surigao. Just another typical migration saga. Leaving everything behind to make a better life in a new homeland. A “get-up-and-go” attitude that many Filipinos today can relate to.
Through hard work and canniness, my forebear was able to establish a thriving business. This then enabled him to own and develop vast parcels of land in Surigao. Wealth and the good life led to the creation of a big family. The 1920s were happy times for the Filipino, Alfonso Yusingco, Sr., and his kids. Mindanao was, indeed, a land of promise for him and many Chinese migrants.
Then came World War II. My ancestors lost everything. Eventually, the businesses went bankrupt. And Surigao did not escape the ravages of war. The family’s lands were razed to the ground. Wartime pushed many Filipinos to relocate wherever they could. The clan fled to Cebu and made it their new home. Peace time, however, dealt a big blow. After the rubble was cleared, the title to Yusingco lands near the pantalan now bore a new name.
The descendants of Alfonso, Sr. worked hard to regain ownership of the land. Clan elders were determined not to let his memory just fade into obscurity. After decades of toiling in the courts and the bureaucracy, title over lands, which were the fruits of Alfonso, Sr.’s migrant dream, once again bears his family name. A legacy reclaimed, but also a herald to a bright future ahead.
Surigao is a very different place now. A simple Google search will show how vibrant and exciting it is. It is a tourist spot in itself, but it is also a gateway to other remarkable locations in Northeast Mindanao. But it is still a growing community. Its people are eager to embrace the city’s full development potential. Its natural beauty marks Surigao as a “cannot-miss” locale in the country.
Nostalgia is a good thing. The peril is to be stuck in the past. To linger in its bitterness or rapture, whatever the case may be. Migrants always navigate the tension between what has passed and what lies ahead. The dream lives in that constant interplay of historical roots and the promising future. Again, does this sound eerily familiar?
Sadly, many Filipinos do tend to get lost in this Twilight Zone, buffering what has been done before against the next steps that must be taken to advance. It is not that we choose to be stuck in the past. But it is more about the future, unable to inspire or jolt us into action. Of course, to be bold and proactive is easier said than done, given the multitude of challenges that many Filipinos (especially those overseas) need to overcome in the present.
Luckily, bayanihan never leaves the Filipino psyche. It is embedded in our identity. It is precisely this culture that makes migration for many of us bearable. The Philippine Times is emblematic of this ethos. The paper is the nerve that links the community together. This bond may not always be strong. It may even be contentious at times. But bayanihan always makes us feel at home, wherever we may be in the world. This heritage is our strength. We perish as a community the moment we forget it to be so.
