First Published Sept. 11, 2005 at www.travelblog.org/bloggers/gypsygal
 
  Pokhara, Nepal —Most of the time I travel light, preferring to buy essentials like pocketbooks, t-shirts or toiletries in any country where I'm staying. Given the might of the Singapore dollar (1 SGD = 2.2 ringgit = 22 baht = 5,000 kips=41 Nepali rupees ), I can easily stretch my budget without having to suffer from a backache or shoulder ache. As much as possible, especially now that I'm living a nomadic lifestyle (I spend most of my time in transit-waiting in airports, in bus stations), I really try to make my backpack weigh less than 15 kgs.
 
  After all, the only things I really need aren't heavy. My yoga mat, bra and disposable panties, my compact Olympus digicam (which I can easily fit into my pocket), my sony mini dv cam, my trusty SLR Nikon manual camera; travel documents; pen and paper; directory and maps, first aid kit, pen and paper. And of course some hard currency plus plastic money.

But my heavy load has nothing to do with the bulkiness of my backpack or the weight of my luggage.
Rather, my baggage is my passport.
 
  I'm a Filipina – and with that I have to carry a load of prejudices and insults.
Because I'm a citizen of a developing country, and because a lot of my fellow citizens go everywhere just to escape poverty from home (never mind that they end up as maids, prostitutes or low paid workers), a Filipino traveller (unlike Aussies or Singaporeans who can just go anywhere) are viewed with suspicion.
How can I forget the time that I went to Toronto, around four years ago, to visit a Filipino friend? From Singapore enroute to Toronto (it was a 20 hour flight), we had a brief stopover in Detroit. Oh God, it didn't matter that my passport says I'm gainfully employed (in an American media company, no less) or that I have a valid tourist visa to Canada. As far as the immigration officials in the US are concerned ( I should have spit on their smug faces. Those arrogant bastards!), I'm a potential TNT because I'M FILIPINO.
 
"You're working in Dow Jones and you don't know that you need a transit visa for US?, " the immigration offcial chided me (Ohh, I won't forget that! And I wont forget the fact that we activists in Manila kicked out your damn US bases in Olongapo!!!). I was detained for a few hours in a small room together with other tourists who have no tourist visa (including a pretty Malaysian Chinese who works for the organizing committee of the Miss World pageant) , where I can't even pee without an officer escorting me to the bathroom.

  Last year, on my way to Perth (via KL), this pasty and overweight Australian woman officer scrutinized my passport, checking if my visa's genuine (touching it, making sure it sticks), badgering me with stupid questions like… "So, would you be working in Australia" (I'm like duh, no, I have a comfy life in Singapore, a good job in one of the world's biggest media companies and a fabulous flat in Steven's Close why would I give it all up to live in your stupid country?). I  handed her my laminated EP card. Just to assure her that I'm a well paid expat. The moronic woman, I cant believe this, ignored the card and didn't realize what a green Emloyment Pass card means! (interestingly, its in Perth airport that I was hassled less. The burly immigration official saw my EP, immediately understood what it meant and said, "Enjoy your holiday!" )
I always consoled myself that life as a Philippine passport holder isn't that bad. I know Indian and Chinese passport holders need a visa for any country that they will visit and that they even have a harder time securing visa. And all these talk about Al Qaeda, terrorism etcetera made life difficult for travelling citizens from Middle East and/or predominantly Islamic countries. I also told myself, that at least in Southeast Asia, I don't need a visa.

  Boy ! was I wrong. In the past few weeks, I saw myself entrering and exiting the checkpoints in Woodlands (in Singapore) and Johor Bahru in Malayasia. All the time, I can see immigration officials from both sides of the causeway viewed my passport suspiciously, asking for return tickets, their attention focused on my "cancelled EP" passport page. One immigration official in Johor Bahru actually had the temerity to tell me "I don't believe you're travelling" (implying of course, that I like some Filipinos I personally know, are going to Malaysia just to extend their social pass in Singapore. Hoping that this will give them enough time to look for a job in the city state). That really irritated me, but I answered calmly, and said I quit my job, I'm travelling and here's my ticket to Bangkok, also my ticket to Nepal and to Delhi (Ahhh uhm by the way, do you want to see my bank account? Do you know that I have enough funds to travel for two years? Do you know that not all Filipinos are poor and willing to accept shit jobs? Do you know that I'm proud of being Filipino, of being who I am, of what I've become?)
 
  Of course, after seeing all my tickets, he had no choice but to give me a visa-free one month social pass in Malaysia.
It's times like these that I wished I have the mentality of a typical, self-absorbed, shallow middle class young Filipino (some of my friends, unfortunately, are like that) . Filipinos who are educated (some of them even studied in the University of the Philippines, the premier state university, where part of the students' tuition was shouldered by taxpayers money), who live comfortable lives, with higher than average paychecks, but who do nothing but whine about corruption, poverty, govt ineffciency etcetera in the Philippines. Filipinos who will chuck their passports at a drop of the hat because "life is hard in Manila, there's pollution, our govt sucks, etcetera."
 
  The thing is, I'm not. I take my citizenship seriously, that I have a civic duty. Yes being a Filipino is an accident of birth. I didn't choose to be one, I was born a Filipino because I was born in the Philippines and my parents are Filipinos. And yes, in a more globalized environment, citizenship takes on a whole new meaning, one that transcends geographical boundaries, ethnic lines and political persuasions.
 
  But I can't just give up my passport and swear allegiance to a country just because I'm having a hard time travelling. Cmon, is that what citizenship is all about? You become a citizen of one country just for your own convenience? What is this, a shopping mall for passports? You buy, you consume, you dispose?