Book Reviews


Migration, we are taught, has been the experience of the Filipino people for the longest time. In childhood, we were told of migration myths and stories. History tells us of people who had wrought their names for posterity while in transit in these islands. In Mindanao, where we are, the demographic mix tells of a relatively recent tide that carried settlers to these shores. Everyday anywhere in this archipelago, we live the reality of mixed blood flowing in our veins, testament to the entry of people from outside for more or less permanent residence within the Philippine territorial boundary, eventually becoming part of the community within only to probably go off to parts unknown in the future. The pot is melting and the mix keeps flowing.
Perhaps itchy feet characterize the Filipino. Perhaps our migration history has imbued in our collective unconscious the belief that out there somewhere the grass grows greener than here – wherever we are at the moment. The territorial integrity so meticulously guarded by modern states has not proven much of a hindrance in curbing the Filipino instinct for geographical mobility. It finds expression today in the phenomenon of the Overseas Filipino Worker (OFW).
Manansalan’s Global divas explores the migration experience and its impact on the Filipino gay men as they define their identity out there where our collective unconscious says the grass grows greener – in this case, the American dream, the colonial legacy that has been carried for generations. The book examines the different niches where Filipino gays have carved a living in America.
Manalansan draws from interviews of Filipino gay men throughout the United States, especially those residing in New York, Philadelphia, and Washington DC from 1990 to 1995. According to a learned reviewer, the book’s “construction through life narratives of almost 50 gay men makes it one of the effective contemporary ethnographic studies done outside the Philippines, tackling a mainstream yet sensitive topic as homosexuality in the modern and international context” (Avila 2006). However that rave review is supposed to be understood by academic researchers, there is no question that letting the bakla respondents tell their story the telenovela way had contributed much to the extent of disclosure that provided content for this book.
The interviews probe the experiences of these gay men growing up in native Philippines, to the trials and errors of immigration and adjustment, to love, sex, and affairs of liberated America. Race, religion, and respect make up most of the important focus questions where the conversations were anchored, with special emphasis on topics involving illegal immigration, drugs, and the pandemic Tita Aida or AIDS (Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome).
It would have been easy for Manalansan to describe the Filipino bakla identity and the cultural configurations of being gay in the Philippines. Had that been the case, however, this book would have ended immediately and predictably.
The main problem that Manansalan chooses to engage in this book is the contour of an evolving and remolding queer culture: How one that was shaped here is being made to fit where, for the moment, the grass is perceived to be greener. This contoured and hybrid culture is examined for contradictions and tensions, for the fault lines that would test its endurance and utility.
While the gay immigrants do not even make up a significant number compared to the whole gay population in the Philippines, it could well be argued that their sense of identity and the formation of it are worth noting, proving a fascination for the morphing of behavior and belief systems while in immersion in a foreign culture. Manansalan argues that the process is of interest because it is not about to stop. In a globalizing world, continuing migration sets up diffusion, enculturation, and assimilation that ultimately lead to a hybridization of identities. It can be inferred that through the mixture of the gay identity properties of all tribes and nationalities, we are slowly creating a universal gay village where the migrant Filipino bakla asserts his right to residency.

Senator Nene Pimentel. 2008. Federalizing the Philippines: A primer. Manila: Philippine Normal University Press. xviii. 494 pages.
by Albert E. Alejo, SJ, PhD
Like the proverbial cat that has nine lives, federalism is in the air again, perhaps stronger this time, because of the failure of the central government to dissociate itself from high level corruption, or perhaps weaker, and for the same reason that the settlers in Malacañang simply want to survive by whatever means, including adopting federalism as a reason for charter change. Senate Minority Leader Senator Aquilino “Nene” Pimentel, Jr. is aware of this argument...

Grace Nono, with Mendung Sabal, Henio Estakio, Baryus Gawid, Salvador Placido, Sarah Mandegan, Gadu Ugal, Florencia Havana, Sindao Banisil and Elena-Rivera-Mirano. 2008. The shared voice: Chanted and spoken narratives from the Philippines. Ed. Carolina Malay. Pasig City: Anvil Publishing and Fundacion Santiago. 248 pages.
by Albert E. Alejo, SJ, PhD
“My name is Grace Nono. I am a singer and a creator of songs.” That is how the author of this magical book introduces herself. That is also how she immediately connects her identity with the rest of the million “singing Filipinos” whose voices she celebrates in print. By voice Grace Nono means much more than a physiological function. “It is the summation of spiritual and sociocultural experience, of vision, and of creative imagination.” In the first few chapters...