My Dad’s Journey

To some people, this story will probably sound familiar. A professional like a doctor or lawyer migrates to North America from a country that is considered “third world” and because their education and experience are not recognized locally, they end up taking a job as a taxi driver, or some other job that is unrelated to their field. The same is true for my dad. When we migrated to North America, his education and experience as an engineer were not recognized locally so he ended up working odd jobs. His very first job here was as a lotto ticket salesperson. He subsequently worked as a book salesman, pizza delivery person, and in a hotel as a food server, then later, as a kitchen steward/dishwasher. Despite not being able to use his education and experience as an engineer, I don’t think he was bitter or resentmentful about working these jobs. They’re honest work. Besides, when you’re an immigrant, the last thing you want is to be accused of stealing the “good” jobs from the locals. Working odd jobs has also shifted my dad’s perspective about these more modest occupations. The prestige may be absent in them and the level of pay made supporting a family more challenging, but as we’ve seen during the pandemic, some of these “lowly” jobs are the same ones that ended up being considered “essential.” Someone has to work them no matter what, and they deserve just as much respect as the careers that have become more traditionally known as prestigious.

I think part of what made my dad’s work more bearable is the hope that his sacrifice would one day secure a good future for me and my sister. In movies, this is where you would normally find the kid at odds with the parent about what career path to follow. The kid would want to be an artist or musician but the parent would argue for a more “stable” career. Well, as much as I would have loved to be an artist or writer, I did not have the heart to defy my parents to follow my passion. I saw how hard my dad and mom worked and the sacrifices they’ve made. I decided to take the less risky path and worked hard towards a stable, if ordinary, career to make sure their efforts were not in vain. I felt that I had to make a sacrifice of my own. It’s more of a compromise, really, as I still got to work on art and writing in my spare time.

It is rare for a pizza delivery person, food server, or dishwasher, to be the subject of any story, but when it comes to my dad, I am taking this opportunity to do just that. My dad was born in the Philippines in the 1940’s. He graduated from university with a bachelors in engineering, and for a time, he worked at a very successful engineering firm. However, due to government corruption, the firm was forced into bankruptcy and my dad lost his job shortly after he married my mother, and after my sister and I were born. He was forced to work abroad to support us and was away for extended periods of time. My mom ended up raising me and my sister mostly by herself, but she had some help from my grandmother. When my dad came back from one of his long abscenses, he noticed how he had become a stranger to his wife and children so the next time he took another project abroad, he ended up taking us with him. We hopped from one country to another, until we eventually ended up in North America.

My dad has led a very interesting life. He grew up during a time when kids were allowed to roam free in their neighbourhoods. The way he talks about his childhood, it often sounds a lot like the adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. As remarkable as his childhood was, it’s really only a fraction of the interesting stories that comprise his life. In a few of his tales, I’ve come to find out how close I was to never coming into existence, as he’s had a few brushes with death. As a young boy, he was stung by a large jellyfish while swimming in the sea, and he nearly drowned. He still has the scars from this incident. As a student in university, he was robbed at knifepoint by a bunch of thugs on his way home late one night. He was lucky that they let him live. Then, as an adult, he had a prophetic dream about a life-threatening event that actually came true. He dreamt that he was riding a bus that stalled on a railroad crossing and the passengers all had to jump out of the windows to avoid getting bulldozed by the train. The very next day, it all played out just as he dreamt it.

But his dreams were not all as dramatic. I remember staying up late one night with my parents watching a travel show about Las Vegas. Seeing all the glitz and glamour of the city made him talk of his dream of taking us all there one day. Vegas might not seem like a big deal anymore now, but back in the eighties, to us living in a country that was not doing so well economically, the excesses showcased in that program was beyond anything we thought was possible.

As fate would have it, my dad’s dream of going to North America was almost realized early on in his life, even before he met my mom. He was offered a job in the US but decided to turn it down because he wasn’t ready to leave his family and friends behind to be so far from home where he didn’t know anyone. I’m not sure if he regrets this decision as his life probably would have turned out much differently had he taken that opportunity. But then, he wouldn’t have met my mom, and both my sister and I wouldn’t have come to be. Besides, he still ended up in North America anyways. It just happened later on in life and under different circumstances. He finally did see Las Vegas for the first time a few years ago when I took him and my mom on a trip there. While he had mixed feelings about it, he still found it overwhelming.

I know that for my dad, it’s been a long journey. I think for the most part, his hard work and sarifice did pay off. He achieved his goal of giving me and my family a happy and comfortable life. He’s retired now and has developed a passion for cooking. He enjoys helping my mom care for their granddaughter. I hope to one day compile more of his stories and to write in greater detail about his life’s journey. For now, this short essay will have to do.