Calling upon these fading images in my head, I exhume the memory of a question an uncle of mine had asked me. Now I don't recall the whole conversation, I was probably no more than five years old at the time, but it happens to be the crux of this Journey.

This tall, burly, "Bunyanesque" of a man, or so it seemed staring up from a couple of feet off the ground, comes up to me and lifts me up into the stratosphere. I assume he figures, "Aw cute little kid. Let me throw him up in the air a couple times and ask him a bunch of cute little questions so that everyone in the room can see just how cute he really is...."

Now why we as adults come to such profound assumptions about, and when in the vicinity, of children alludes me. Oh alright, I confess. I toss the cute little tikes around the room too. But, and speaking for all of the guys out there, I make sure that there are a couple of girls around, to assure for myself the extra bonus points. Although, at the age of five, I do recall the sensation of vomit rising from the depths of my belly. The attention made me ill. Then again, sudden jerks and changes in altitude can do the same thing to a kid who just ate.

Anyway, in completion of the pukefest, I mean interrogation, he finally asks, "Are you a filipino?"

"No. I'm Jeromel.":)

Ok, so I was a poster child for "Yes. I am Naive." And yes, it was a cute answer to a cute question. It got all the laughs and aw's. What do you want? I was five years old. But, at twenty-four, it makes perfect sense.

I am a first generation filipino-american. My parents came from the Philippines to the United States and gave me a gift. Other than making that twinkle in their eye a reality (thanks mom and dad for that wonderful night), they gave me a suit of two cultures to grow into and make alterations for. Two cultures, beautiful as separate entities, but when combined it is like opening your eyes and seeing beauty for the first time. This is where we begin...