Last week President Aquino completed a whistle-stop tour of my home country, New Zealand.
After a month in the Philippines on a working internship for the STAR, I can attest that our countrymen and women know little of each other.
Most Filipinos’ knowledge of New Zealand seems limited to the fact that it has lots of cows, sheep, kiwifruit, and was where the Lord of the Rings movies were filmed.
Some think we are a state of our neighbor (and great sporting rival) Australia.
Still, that’s more than most New Zealanders know about the Philippines — which is basically nothing, other than confused stereotypes about call centers, pineapples, nurses and “happy ending” massages.
And, of course, that it’s where the Pac-Man comes from.
This is a shame, because after even the shortest time here, it’s become obvious that our countries have much in common.
There are obvious differences, chiefly that there are about 94 million of you, and only 4.4 million of us.
A close second: when I bite into a hard boiled egg at home, I’m safe in the knowledge there won’t be a feathery embryo lying in wait.
And in comparison to the bubbly and outgoing nature of Filipinos, most Kiwis are low-key to the point of being comatose.
I was struck by the difference while waiting for an early morning ferry to Corregidor, still half-asleep and grumpy at the world.
As the other Westerners sat in silence, a group from a local company laughed, gossiped and took a hundred photos as if they were old friends at a wedding.
(Most were sound asleep on the ferry back — showing the correct order of things).
I’m also reliably informed people partake in Karaoke sober here. This is both horrifying and a source of wonder.
Back home the microphones won’t turn on unless a person’s breath is laced with at least six beers and three shots of tequila.
New Zealand offices can feel sterile and slightly cold compared to the frequent bursts of eating, laughter and occasional sleeping of newsrooms here.
Then there is the news itself — my diary is full of clippings of corruption and crime articles that are run-of-the-mill here, but would be a screaming front-page back home.
Much of that difference can be put down to development and population.
Downtown Auckland — our largest city at 1.4 million — can feel like a ghost-town compared to the bustle of the most minor Manila side street.
No wonder the increasing number of Filipinos moving to New Zealand to work on dairy farms are warned they may find the experience lonely.
A pamphlet provided by NZ Immigration to potential workers explains they may go days without seeing even their closest neighbors.
But the fact that so many workers are thriving and are highly valued by New Zealand employers speaks to the underlining similarities between us.
Both New Zealanders and Filipinos put emphasis on being humble, and not taking yourself too seriously or sweating the small stuff.
Those values are displayed in a shared sense of humor that often revolves around taking the mickey — preferably out of yourself.
Recently I had it explained to me that a reporter had a close enough relationship with the President that they often text messaged each other.
The pressroom — and the joke’s target — lit up with laughter when someone interjected to say a nearby veteran reporter had the same relationship with Elpidio Quirino. And I felt right at home.
New Zealand’s Filipino population has almost doubled in the past five years, and will soon make up one percent of the country’s population.
Officials report that Filipinos who do make the move integrate remarkably well. My time here has made it obvious why.
Forget the differences — each day is a reminder of the Maori proverb: “He aha te mea nui o te ao? He tangata, he tangata, he tangata! (What is the most important thing in the world? It is people, it is people, it is people!)”