Cesareo Manansala has lived in the United States for more than two decades.

The 21-year-old is Filipino, not Irish, but either way, he won't be chugging pint after sludgy pint of Guinness at the bars today like some other Penn Staters. In Pennsylvania, Manansala (senior-journalism) isn't allowed in.

Manansala doesn't have a driver's license or state ID, nor is he on active military duty. But he has an employment authorization card, issued by U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services from the Filipino consulate. It's a photo ID, and it lists his date of birth, like a driver's license. But state law says he can't use it to purchase alcohol or get into bars.

"It's not a fake, but they say they need something more real," he said. "Apparently it's not good enough."

Molly McGowan, a Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board (PLCB) spokeswoman, said Pennsylvania looks for specific criteria when making laws for bar entry.

"There are so many different types of IDs," she said. "You need to have something official from a government agency to ensure it's valid."

Aside from driver's licenses, state IDs and military IDs, there's another form that bars will allow: passports.

Most managers of State College bars said that if students don't have at least one of the four forms of ID, they'll be turned away.

Most Penn State international students are in luck; they can use their passports to get into bars.

But Manansala, who has lived in the states longer than most freshmen have been alive, hasn't needed his passport for years.

It no longer features a stamp it needs to be considered current under the law.

Although he obtained his U.S. citizenship late last year, he has had difficulty providing documentation to receive a state ID.

"It's a really complicated mess," Manansala said. "To make a long story short, I was supposed to get it taken care of, and then 9/11 happened."

For a week before they begin their studies at Penn State, most international students are given an orientation where such issues are discussed.

Hannah Tan (sophomore-English) is from Singapore, and went through the program.

"Advisers told us that we needed a passport to get in, and that you have to be 21 to drink ,or sometimes you can get in if you're 18, but you can't drink," Tan said. "They really reiterated the need for a passport."

Brian Estep, assistant manager of The Gingerbread Man, 130 Hiester St., suggested that Manansala's problem was fairly unique.

"Most international students have a passport," Estep said. "If they don't have a passport, they're not really international students."

But after 20 years in the United States, Manansala is an international student in name only.

Manansala's thick Brooklyn accent is proof enough that he is well acclimated to America, but without a valid passport, he's used to being turned away from the same bars other Brooklynites have no trouble entering.

Manansala gave credit to the bouncers in State College for being reasonable about their treatment of students like him.

"They don't give you any bad-ass talk about it or anything," Manansala said. "They just say, 'Sorry, we can't accept this.' "

There are exceptions to every rule, and occasionally Manansala says he finds an understanding bouncer who's willing to bend the law a little bit. But, more often than not, Manansala doesn't get to enjoy the main fringe benefit of being 21.

"It's pretty frustrating, especially since a lot of times you'll be out with friends and you'll try to get in somewhere, and you can't," he said. "But [the bouncers] are just doing their job."