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Packages of love: Unwrapping the balikbayan box

In brown corrugated boxes that are filled to the brim, an unwritten promise is the bow on top: a seal of love and a yearning for home.

Gift-giving is among the universal expressions of gratitude and appreciation, but in the Philippines, such practice can stretch across the seas and continents. The uniqueness of Filipino gift-giving is in the care delivered by the balikbayan box, a cultural phenomenon materialized in brown cardboard packages, filled and sent beyond borders.

The balikbayan box is a popular symbol of Filipino expatriation. When translated, balikbayan means “to return to the homeland.” These large corrugated boxes, stuffed to the brim with goods from overseas, serve as pasalubong or souvenirs. For those who cannot return home, these boxes become a temporary stand-in for their presence. This tradition boomed in the United States during the 80s, eventually becoming common practice for both Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) and immigrants alike. 

According to Department of Sociology and Behavioral Sciences professor Dr. Bubbles Asor, the practice is not exclusive to Filipinos. However, one cannot discount how it has transformed how Filipino families stay connected despite the distance, forging an entire industry and turning into an enduring symbol of the Filipino balikbayan culture. 

Pack to the Philippines 

The process of sending a pasalubong package is not a mere transactional dropoff and transport; its thoughtful curation is a labor of love. Paulo Ravago, a United Arab Emirates-based marketing consultant, sends a box to his mother quarterly. “It is my way of showing love to my mother. I will always provide what she needs and wants,” he shares.  

Asor describes the process as “a way of long-distance intimacy,” as those overseas, despite not being physically present, often take the time to learn about the necessities and desires of their people back home. As a result, balikbayan boxes are typically filled with practical items, such as food, appliances, and clothes, instead of souvenirs like tourist magnets and keychains. “Unlike traveling, this is not just [a] little token, this is part of [their] everyday life,” the sociologist explains. These items are collected over a period of time, before being packed tightly, leaving no nook or cranny unfilled.

Jezza Torralba, a frequent receiver of balikbayan boxes, weighs in that there is no specific time of the year her family receives a package. Yet, more often than not, she ascribes the box as a way of being given an early Christmas present. “When my mother visits the Philippines, she sends a box ahead of her homecoming,” she explains in Filipino. Regardless of whether she comes home for the holidays or not, a balikbayan box always accompanies her return or fills her absence. 

This tradition keeps the spirit of gift-giving alive all year long, with more than a million boxes delivered to the Philippines every year. Recipients often receive these goods in varying frequencies, as Dr. Asor comments, “there are boxes for extended kins [and] there are boxes for the nuclear family.” The inclusion of extended family members in this practice is a testament to the strong family-orientedness among Filipinos.

Loaded bestowals 

However, these overpacked containers are loaded with a Trojan Horse of emotional baggage that may shape household dynamics, especially with the utang na loob ideal that Filipinos uphold. Asor lists down the ways families feel the need to give back, which can range from preparing nostalgic delicacies to going on luxurious local vacations. 

Still, the reciprocity of gift-giving fosters the love between family members. This is true for Torralba, who shares that she often treats her migrant mother to dining and entertainment when she comes home to the Philippines. On a visit to the US, Torralba filled her suitcase with Filipino snacks that had become “imported” for her mother. “I brought her ‘yung mga favorite chips niya‘yung mga local chips natin,” Torralba emphasizes. It is not about equivalency, but rather knowing what her mother would appreciate.

(I brought her favorite chips…our local chips.)

Even recipients take an active role in this process. Torralba also details that her mother participates in the selection of gifts for her grandchildren by hopping on a phone call as they pick the right colors and sizes. “Or minsan, actually, ako na rin yung nagorder [online]. Ipapadeliver ko sa kan’ya doon.” 

(Or sometimes, it’s actually me who orders online. I have them delivered to her.) 

Emotional package

In the cultural exchange of balikbayan boxes, a defining quality is the emotional weight it holds between the bestower and recipient. As Ravago shares, he finds it as a way of giving back to his mother for the years she spent raising him. Meanwhile, Torralba considers it a physical demonstration of remembrance and knowing.

Clearly, the box is more than its materiality; it is a representation of sacrifice. Stemming from the strong ideals of family-orientedness and religion, as well as the perpetuation of ideals by the media, Asor discusses that such sacrifice is a byproduct of wanting to show love. “I want my [family] back home to eat what I eat,” she describes, painting a picture under the mindset of an OFW. It has become routine for senders to accumulate then pack, slowly building a box worthy of sending.

However, the tradition can also carry unspoken expectations. Asor asserts that some families may feel pressured to send a balikbayan box to their loved ones. For others, this is not the case as generosity triumphs over obligation. Ravago explains, “I don’t feel any pressure or familial obligation because I do this out of love and [my mother] has been very grateful for it.” On a similar note, Torralba believes that their family dynamics would not change if her mother stopped sending a box; she even jested in Filipino, “Those gifts are just a bonus to us.”

While the act of sending parcels is not necessarily a Filipino tradition, the balikbayan box stands out from its counterparts as both a cultural symbol and a carrier of care for Filipinos. More than a means of cultural exchange, it is a promise of remembrance and the hopes of someday coming home to the motherland.


This article was published in The LaSallian‘s March 2025 issue. To read more, visit bit.ly/TLSMarch2025.

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