Musings from the socially awkward

It was with reluctance (and disapointment at how easy a push-over I was) that I accompanied my mum to a friend's daughter's party recently. As a guy containing Filipino blood, I can say I've been to my fair share of Filipino parties. They're always the same, and all this one did was further confirm what I already knew.

The Philippines is a curious country. Venture to the main centres - such as Manilla (the capital) and you'll find a bustling, throbbing city. Venture outside that however and you'll find something very different.

The affluent areas of the Philippines (relatively speaking) have become very Westernised. The malls are gargantuan, the roads are plentiful, and the smog is nauseating. The people are very different because of it. Any historical nuances the country has are thrown out the window, as everyone chases their seemingly universal goal of being the best New York knock-off on the planet. Sky scrapers, billboards and an urge to read about the hottest celebrity couple seem to be the perceived recipe. If you can't tell already, this isn't an area of the Philippines I'm too fond of. And I haven't even mentioned the slums and the homeless yet.

Out of these centres though lays something far more wholesome - often in the form of beautiful scenery and beautiful people. This is the real Philippines. Where the roads are mere paths, cruddely carved out of the landscape, and the people are as forward as they are friendly.

So when a Filipino party is held here, typically, it's interesting to watch the mingling of the different backgrounds. Being extremely socially awkward, I had plenty of time to follow proceedings at said party - though I did have a bit of a chat with a lovely old man named Peter, whom had also been dragged along by a member of the 'fairer' sex.

Despite all being friends with one another, when they're all poured into a stuffy old Bowling Club, you can see them all gravitate towards those from their area of Filipino 'homeland'. Those from the 'cultural West' are all trying to keep up with the teenagers and the 20-somethings by dressing up as if they're going to go hooking afterwards. Those from the 'Orientalist East' however are quite reserved - hopping from table to table occasionally but generally quietly keeping to themselves.

The most interesting moment of the night was when a Filipino dance group came forward to perform a traditional dance act for the birthday girl (I wont pretend to be an expert on such things, so I wont describe it in detail but rest assured it was impressive. There was fire and bamboo. It was good). What interested me was the way in which the 'host' of the party - a girl who was treating the role as if it was part of a job interview for E! - navigate through introducing the act, as well as seeing them off afterwards. It was painfully obvious that she didn't have a clue about who they were, what they were doing, and the cultural side of the country in general. After stabbing the metaphorical darkness for a few seconds, she resigned to the fact that she was inept. A well-placed bit of laughter later, and the E! reporter was back in business having resumed talks about frocks, food and fashion - with a level of unjustified self-importance that John Campbell would be proud of.

We're in a state of Western colonisation of across the globe. Not physically, but mentally. Western films, Western television and the Western attitude that tells us to hallow the rich and riddicule the poor is cutting a chasm down the middle of a number of countries - the Philippines being an example of the consequences.