This morning, I was at the doctor's getting a three hour glucose test. On the third blood sampling, I happened to be in the same room with a Filipino guy. He looked like Manong Dado, one of my old neighbors in Argao. And this guy had the accent.
Manong Ilokano: What happened to you?
Me: Nothing. It's just routine blood testing for pregnant women.
Manong Ilokano: Oh, you're pregnant. How many months?
Me: Six.
At this point, I closed my eyes as the doctor drew blood. I heard Manong Ilokano say something like "......I used to do that in the Philippines."
Me: You're from the Philippines? Me too!
Manong Ilokano: Where are you from?
Me: Cebu, po! Bisaya.
Manong Ilokano: I don't know about you, but I am PERST CLASS PILIPINO.
Me: Whatever, Manong. Ingat po kayo.
No one was about to get away with insulting what kind of Filipino I am. Not after I just had three needles in my arms in the past two hours. I had to leave.
And just so Manong Ilokano knows: I don't think Cebuanos would let him think that he's a class above us. After giving it some thought, I think I should close this entry with: Manong Ilokano is entitled to his wrong opinion.
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