Forty years ago, in January 1983, I started my nursing career in America.
A month ago, I found an old note I wrote on my first night on New York soil. It was both a time of uncertainty and excitement for this new journey. It was exhilarating and yet tinged with homesickness. My first time away from home. I felt unprepared to be on my own, not knowing how to cook or do the laundry. Even though my family was not rich, we still managed to have a housemaid at home, mainly because my parents wanted me to concentrate on my studies.
I was young, adventurous, and full of dreams. Suddenly independent, suddenly an adult.
Back then, nurses were only paid about $18,000 a year. I felt rich.
New friends
There was a small group of Filipino nurses who came before
us in 1982. They were our mentors. Our group of 20 nurses was the first of many batches of recruits from the
Philippines who settled in Coler Memorial Hospital, a long-term care facility in
picturesque Roosevelt Island in New York. The influx of Filipino nurses was the
city hospitals’ answer to the nursing shortage that gripped the US in the 1980s.
Coming to America was a culture shock. New to the country
and new to the hospital system. The LPNs ruled the roost for a long time, so
our advent was met with cynicism and hostility. We were young, bright-eyed,
naïve, and ready to serve. Thankfully, the camaraderie among the Filipino
nurses made us strong and united, and we were able to charm our way into our
fellow staff members’ hearts. Somehow, the barriers came down and the LPNs and
the RNs worked well together. It may be because we worked our asses off, as
well as we were generous in sharing our food with everyone.
It was a whole new world for us. Most of us were in our twenties and we were ready to take on the world. But I was actually unprepared to be on my own in a foreign land. I was not domesticated at all; completely sheltered and spoiled. I never learned to cook, Thanks, Mom. I admit that my mom gave up on teaching me when I almost burned the house down when I tried to fry a fish or was it when I overboiled the egg?
We survived because we found humor in anything and
everything. Mostly we laughed at
ourselves and at our clumsy ways to acclimate ourselves to our new lives. For
our first month in New York, we were housed in a dorm near the hospital. We
spent our nights comparing notes of our misadventures with each other. Soon,
our funny stories were epic among our friends. These were funny moments that
could have been great for a stand-up routine. If there was a female nurse Jokoy,
it would have been one of us.
Accents/ Pronunciations
For any new immigrants to a new place, getting used to the
accent, slang, and colloquialism is always a challenge. I sometimes got
defensive in my mind when someone snickered at my mispronunciations. Isn’t it
that research showed that those who are bilingual actually are intelligent
people? So what if my tongue got twisted, at least my grammar was way better (modesty aside) than
some of the native speakers.
On our second day in New York, my friends and I wanted to venture out to Manhattan to see the famous Bloomingdale’s and ride the Roosevelt Island tram. I approached the security officer in the hospital to ask for directions. I asked for a “map”. His face showed his confusion, but he gallantly gave me a “mop” that he borrowed from a passing housekeeper.
Behind me, my friends were doubled up in laughter as they teased me, “long aaaa, use your long aaaa”. They were actually wrong because "map" has the soft 'a' sound like 'clap', and 'mop' has the soft 'o' sound like 'shop'.
The next day, I got my revenge. One of the doctors jumped in
fear when he heard my friend ask the clerk if she saw her “bag”. The doctor
thought my friend saw a “bug”, or as he called it, “Cucaracha!” Of course, I muttered
to my friend, “Short 'a', use your short 'a' ”, exaggerated gesture and all. Soft vs short, how confusing. My gosh, it wasn’t easy
to be “Americanized”.
One day, my head nurse sent me out to the Supply Room for some Q-tips. I was confident that I could figure it out because the bins were all labeled. For 15 minutes, I searched and could not find anything resembling a tip shaped like a "Q". I was almost in tears when the head nurse came into the room and grabbed the cotton applicators herself.
Cooking
After a month, our friends (Tess, Evelyn, Fe, and I) moved in together as roommates in a walk-up apartment in Steinway in Astoria, Queens. Hence, we were called the Steinway ladies. We shared cooking duties, but it was soon apparent that I did not have the talent to dice, slice, stir, and season the food to anything near palatable. My food experiments became fodder for jokes at our parties.
For some, cooking relaxes them. Just the thought of having to come up with an edible dish stressed me and ruined my day off. My "monggo with sardines" never passed muster. By mutual agreement, and to the relief of all sides, I was assigned
as the official dishwasher. Actually, it saved our friendship and my sanity.
In February 1983, we experienced our first snow. The first
snow crystals that came down from the skies were magical. I remembered sticking
out my tongue and thanking God for finally experiencing what I only saw in the movies.
I hugged a tree and did my first-ever “snow angel”.
The nice snow turned into a "Megalopolitan Blizzard"
that buried New York with 2 feet of snow. We should have been hibernating in
our cozy and warm apartment and enjoying our off days decorating our new place.
But we needed a dining set. So, after the storm passed, we trudged through snow
that came up to our thighs carrying the dinette and four chairs, about 2 blocks
away from home. We should have been mortified at the cars honking at us, but we comforted ourselves that nobody would recognize us with the scarves covering our faces. It was a strange sight, indeed.
One day, I hang my hand-washed white pants outside our window to dry. The next day, it was stiff as a board. Because all my uniforms were still in the dirty hamper, I had no choice but to blow dry my pants. So, I came to work with my legs stiff, but at least, warm and toasty.
At the Laundromat, as told by Fe
“The first time we went to the laundromat for the first
time, I panicked when I looked into the washer and could not find my clothes. I
told Evelyn that my clothes were probably done so I climbed and looked at the
back of the machine. I even asked the owner of the laundromat 'Where are my clothes?'.
It’s good he did not understand me. Then, the machine stopped spinning, and
like magic, my clothes were back.”
Bebs and her funny memories
Bebs was from another group called the Astoria Ladies. She
said, “The funniest and scary moment was when I went to the World Trade Center with Malou.
We wanted to send money home through the Philippine National Bank. Bagong salta
sa Amerika. It was lunchtime then. Just imagine we were with all the businessmen
either going to their office or whatever. The elevator was terrifyingly fast then
I saw the sign “Press to stop”. In my curiosity (rather, my stupidity), I
pressed the button. The elevator went to a sudden halt like there was an
earthquake. Somebody called on the elevator phone, “A girl in the elevator
pulled the emergency button”. My face turned red. What should have been only a
few minutes to our destination floor took maybe 20 minutes to have the
repairmen get the elevator back to normal operation. It was one of the most embarrassing
experiences I had as a newbie here in the USA."
“Remember in the hospital cafeteria, we were being watched
for using a spoon and fork to eat!!!?”
“When we went to use the public washing machine, I put too
much detergent that the bubbles overflowed out of the top.”
“We fell in line in TKTS to see a movie; we thought that’s where to get movie tickets”.
Hey, Bebs! Don't forget that you posed like the University of the Philippines Oblation statue.
East River flirting
During our first summer, my friends and I often hang out at the riverfront overlooking Manhattan. The skyline was magnificent, The towering buildings rising majestically against the blue skies. Sometimes, we waved at the bare-chested men on the boats as they sailed along the East River.
I can only use the excuse that we were young, daring, and adventurous because we also threw kisses at the sailors, thinking we would never see them up close and personal. Until one boat motored up near the bank. We all scampered away like rabbits as if our mamas were after us with their slippers.
West Point
One of my fondest memories is that of Evelyn and Fe (former Steinway and later Broadway roommates) running down from the pier at the West Point Academy as the ferry boat sailed away back to NYC. It was my fault for being so distracted in the art museum that I missed the bus that was supposed to take us to the pier. At the last moment, they noticed that I did not make it to the bus. Tess had gone ahead with the other group and was unaware of my drama.
So, Evelyn and
Fe got off the bus and ran back to the museum to retrieve me. I thanked them
profusely for not leaving me stranded on my lonesome, hahaha! We were relieved that at least Fe had her Amex card
so we were able to take the Amtrak train back to the city. It must have been me
who clapped and shouted the loudest "We're now in New York" when the train conductor announced we were in Penn
Station.
Christmas Tree, as told by Fe
"Evelyn and I went to Manhattan to see the Rockefeller
Christmas tree. We took lots of pictures of a massive tree adorned with beautiful
lights. It was when we got home that we realized that it was not THE
Rockefeller tree."
Looking back, the first few years as we adjusted to our new lives were challenging, to say the least. We survived because we embraced all our experiences with gusto and with a sense of humor. Those were the days when life was simpler but exciting with new possibilities.
In 1983, Karen Carpenter died of anorexia nervosa. Michael Jackson's Thriller went to no. 1 on the US 200 Billboard album. Lionel Richie's “You Are”, released in 1982, was the first song I heard on the radio. The MASH finale. The nursing shortage.
Forty years later, there is a nursing shortage again. I hope that those who will follow our steps will have as many laughs as we had.
It was 8509 miles and 20 hours of a turbulent plane ride, but I am here to stay.
My Firsts... as a Nurse in the U.S.
http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/search/label/firsts
No comments:
Post a Comment