Homeless Filipinos in New York

Homeless Filipinos in New York
Filipino Reporter, Edmund Silvestre, Posted: Apr 28, 2008

Filipinos are often stereotyped as among the most successful immigrants in the United States. So it came as a bit of a shock when at least two homeless Filipinos were discovered in the streets of Manhattan, who are forced to sleep in subzero level either beneath cardboard boxes on the sidewalk or on board moving subway trains.

Howie Severino, one of the Philippines' foremost TV documentarists, was in New York City in February to do a story on rats in the Big Apple to welcome the Chinese Year of the Rat.

While interviewing a homeless Puerto Rican on rat behavior in the Chinatown area, the man mentioned to Severino about a fellow homeless – a Filipino – who happens to be his "neighbor" at night on the sidewalk of Mulberry Street.



"He is the first Filipino homeless I've ever seen" was how the Puerto Rican homeless described Teddy Sison, a Philippine-born U.S. Army veteran of the Vietnam War.

"Magandang gabi po (Good evening)," Severino called out. The box moved, then an unmistakably Filipino mestizo head popped out.

"Ah, Pilipino pala!" Sison blurted out, happily surprised. 



Severino and his cameraman, Egay Navarro, invited Sison into their hotel room to spend the night and talk about his life on the streets, where he owns his time and he has no boss to report to everyday.

Sison said he eats regularly in the church that provides meals for those who are down on their luck. He earns a living by collecting cans in the trash. And his constant companion: a bottle of brandy that keeps him warm.

"There's really not much of a difference whether you live in a penthouse, in a castle or in a box, you know," Sison, sporting a disheveled beard, said. "It's just where you are that makes a difference."



Born in Manila and grew up in Leyte, Sison said his father – whom he identified as Rudolf Froitzhein – was an American ex-serviceman at the former Subic Naval Base, who abandoned him and his Filipino mother when he was still an infant.

"Can you help me find my father?" Sison asked Severino. The two Googled Sison's father on the Internet, but to no avail.

Severino's report did not include how Sison ended up penniless in New York, but the Vietnam vet turned emotional when he told Severino he wanted to go back to the Philippines.

Asked by Severino why, Sison paused, then remarked, "Doon ako galing (That's where I came from)."


A couple of days later, the two met again, with Sison all cleaned up and shaven. He told Severino he'll try to find a job to earn money so he can go back to the Philippines for good.

Another homeless
Severino also met in the streets of New York Filipino painter Felix Quris "Lex" Cachapero, a widower.



Known in Manila's artist colony as the "Angel Painter," having held seven solo exhibits of angel paintings from 1994 to 1999, he brought the exhibit "Angels in the Ozone" to the Philippine Center in New York in March 1999.



The following year, Cachapero returned to the Big Apple and decided to stay for good.

 But without legal documents in the U.S., Cachapero said he couldn't land a decent job, and couldn't even get into a homeless shelter.

"They ask for my Social Security number, tax account number, passport, alien citizenship number...wala ako lahat nu'n (I don’t have all that)," he told Severino.



Like Sison, Cachapero gets his free meal from the church.
During daytime, he struggles to sell paintings on the sidewalk of Prince Street in the dead of winter, with much of his arts supplies or materials coming from the garbage of art galleries.

Although passersby heap praises on Cachapaero's artwork, there are days when he can't even sell one.

Blue Gallardo, a friend and fellow Filipino painter who works as a caretaker at La Mama Theater in the East Village, said Cachapero is a "survivor," who knows how the survive the harsh life on the streets.

"I salute him for that," Gallardo said. "I was thinking if I were in his shoes, can I also survive?"



But unlike Sison who sleeps in cardboard boxes, Cachapero spends the night at a place that Severino said he least expected – on a subway train that goes back and forth to Coney Island in Brooklyn.

His favorite is the F train, which he calls "my hotel."


As if spending the night alone and cold on a subway train with strangers is not enough, Cachapero told Severino he has to sleep sitting upright.

"You cannot lie down because the police will ask you to leave," he said. "But I'm always alert because there are also hassles. One time somebody hit my head with something while I was asleep."

Cachapero said while sleeping on the train, he always dreams about the Philippines, where he gets to talk to friends he left behind. 

"The train brings me to the Philippines every night," he said. "Kahit man lang sa panaginip, nakikita ko ang Pilipinas (At least I could see the Philippines in my dreams)."