Raising Bean: Growing Up A Proper Pinoy in America.(Brief Article)

N.F. Mendoza is Nadine Mendoza-Province, a Los Angeles-based freelance writer.

The blue in the sky and the blue of the sea--different shades, of course--look too pristine to be real.

"This is where Mama Terry and Papa Nory come from," my husband Jim says to our 22-month-old son Jamison Coneelly Mendoza Province. He's talking about the baby's maternal grandparents, my parents. The baby has a nickname--isn't a palayaw or, in our Visayan, an angka, essential for a Pinoy, even a baby Pinoy? His is Bean (familial) or Keane (friends, acquaintances).

Father and son are sitting in the back seat of our Ford Explorer. Jim's holding up a recent cover of Mabuhay magazine for the baby to see. It's a gorgeous, if typical, pastiche of a Philippine beach.

"Ooh," Keane says. "Airplane."

"That's right," I say from the driver's seat, glancing at the baby-view mirror so I can see Keane's delighted face. "That's what we'll take when we go visit the Philippines. Then you can meet your Lola Ev, …