I don’t know exactly what it is but there is a certain magnetic pull that America exerts on many of us Filipinos. Ask any migrating kabayan and chances are, 9 out of 10, it’ll be to the USA. Once, I asked an acquaintance, so saan kayo magse-settle sa America? Ah, dun sa Vancouver, he answered. I didn’t have the heart to argue that Canada’s not a state of the US. If his geography got blurred, then so be it.

I do not judge nor begrudge others about their decision to settle wherever they please on this planet. I’m just wondering about our inherent fascination vis-à-vis the US as a prime destination of choice. Okay, there’s Canada, Australia, UK and New Zealand as well in varying degrees of importance but how often do you hear someone saying the family was going to migrate to France, or Norway, or Argentina for that matter. Not even Spain, our original colonizer. ¿Habla usted español?

Perhaps it’s our easy familiarity with things American, not least of which is the familiar accent drummed into our heads by countless Hollywood movies. I mean, how many of us anyway can clearly understand an English or Australian accent, let alone the thick Scottish brogue? Ah, and don’t forget rock and roll: be it Bill Haley and the Comets and Elvis of our parents’ generation, to our Beach Boys and Bruce Springsteen, to our kids’ Madonna and – what is it now? – Beyonce and all the current crop of rappers. In this case, familiarity breeds not contempt but comfort.

Which brings me to the nagging question: Are Filipinos really comfortable in the States?

Dan's 3-bedroom house with a nice Japanese garden he's landscaping

Recently meeting and living for a time with old friends and relatives in Colorado, Louisiana and California answers the question in a positive light.

Dan, who has made Colorado Springs his home along with his Malaysian wife and two young children, told me that it’s a good life he’s living. It’s far removed from his old place in Cainta and far better than being an OFW in Singapore and Kuala Lumpur where he paid his dues. Here, he’s got a good job as an architect with a property developer that pays well for him to afford a 20-year, $240K, 3-bedroom house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. He drives a brand-new Toyota RAV and plans to get another SUV for his wife (who’s a fulltime mom) in order that she could drive the kids to school. On weekends, he’s busy puttering around his wide garden because he says the labor is quite expensive so he might as well do it himself. Good exercise, too. I said he was right, as sweat poured down my forehead while we raked some of the mulch he was preparing for the grass to be delivered the next day.

Why Colorado? I asked. He used to live in Minneapolis. Well, three things he said: first, the standard of living is good (not too expensive); second, winter was so damned cold in Minnesota; third, the place was beautiful. I couldn’t agree more with the last. In the few days that we were there, we went to the mountains nearby and I felt it was as close to heaven as one could get. Sweeping vistas of soaring peaks, deep canyons and raging rivers. We went whitewater rafting complete with barbecue at day’s end and I couldn’t remember a better weekend outing than that. And that’s not to mention the other more breathtaking resorts like Silverado, Aspen and Vail (he runs into some Hollywood stars vacationing there).

Views to die for in Colorado Springs

So why don’t you come over here, he asked. You could get a job easily in this place with your resume and we could be neighbors. Imagine the fun we would have every weekend hiking and indulging in photography – a hobby we both enjoyed. I admit the place was a photo enthusiast’s paradise. I said I may be tempted!

We visited another friend, John, who was newly-settled (about 2 years now) in Shreveport, Louisiana where his wife works as a nurse. Contented? I queried, as we barbecued pork spareribs and drank ice-cold Miller Lite in his wide backyard. Yeeaaah, he said slowly. But I sort of noticed a slight tinge in his voice that made me wonder whether he missed his old job in Kuwait where he was a senior architect. In Shreveport, which is quite a small city near the Texas border, there aren’t many big design firms and he was currently working as a draftsman with an aluminum cladding company. So I guess he pined for the challenge that his present work didn’t offer.

However, his wife’s making good money and they were able to buy a nice, big house sited on a cul-de-sac in a quiet neighborhood that epitomized the perfect American setting. Brick walls and wooden shingles, a 3-car garage with an automatic door which my wife marveled at (Puwede rin ba yan sa bahay natin sa Cainta? Oo, sabi ko, pero kailangan bilhin natin yung katabing lote para dun tayo magtayo ng malaking garahe!) and a well-maintained front lawn with – surprise! – no fence or gate.

Who wouldn't want to live in a quiet communtiy like this? (Shreveport)

One morning, he pointed at another house in front of theirs and said the owner was selling it for a good bargain. I knew what was coming: So why don’t you think of moving here so we could be neighbors, he asked. You could easily get a job somehow, somewhere, he added. I scratched my head and told myself, well, it had to be in Dallas where I’d find a big interior design firm who would be willing to throw money at me just to join them! There was only one slight problem though: it was 3 hours and 280 miles away – could I survive the daily commute? Again, I said, I may be tempted.

As for Gladys’s cousin in Daly City, San Francisco, he lives in a 3-story house with a black, macho-looking, all-leather interior, 2-seater Mercedes SLK and a silver-grey BMW 7-Series in their garage. Quite a long way from Del Pilar, Sta Ana, Manila where he used to ride the tricycle! Now he’s into real estate and the kids have gone to the best schools in California. I didn’t get to meet him for they were vacationing in Manila and I was flying back to Kuwait.

Gladys and James stayed in his house all by themselves for over a week waiting for them to come back. The son was in Nirvana. He emailed me that every room had a humongous plasma screen with – get this, he said – original games (with a capital “O”) for the X-Box and PS2 that were available for his gaming pleasure. C’mon now, I said, don’t you appreciate anymore those bootleg Raon DVDs I got you in Manila?

Anyhow, I'm sure had I asked Cesar about his current lifestyle, he would have answered me that yes, indeed, he was living in comfort in the U.S.

There is a moral to all the above short glimpses of life there. Which is that if you work your butt off and embrace the American Dream, chances are good that you may just make it. I think that’s the tantalizing idea that makes most Pinoys hightail it to the Land of the Free.

The house in Daly City with an SLK in the garage

So how come I didn’t feel like packing my bags and getting on the next available United flight back to the U.S. of A for good? Feeling too old to start all over again? Or do I have too good a job here to throw it all away and swap it with the uncertainty of finding another one as good, if not better, in a strange land? Or is it because my two boys are past the age of making use of the often-heard phrase “It’s for the children’s future to give them better opportunities”?

Frankly, I don’t know. Perhaps it’s a combination of all the above reasons, plus more. Dont get me wrong: I liked it there in America – wide-open spaces, the freedom to drive wherever, the excellent public and private services, the numerous art museums and architectural sights .... hell, the list could go on and on.

But oddly, I felt like I didn’t belong. I would love to go and visit there again, no doubt. But to live there? No, I don’t think so. Because I feel a different, stronger magnetic pull – to go home to the Philippines once my working days here are over. Like, I wrote a cousin once (she’s another American success story – got 3 houses with one in Vegas) “I don't intend to migrate elsewhere - I will grow old, die and be buried back home in the old country”.

Different strokes for different folks, I guess.