It’s no secret that every year, millions of Filipinos dubbed “mga bagong bayani” leave the country and their families to find the so-called greener pastures overseas. December is even celebrated as the “Month of Overseas Filipinos” through Proclamation No. 276.
For one man, greener pastures came with blood-red stains and a butchering knife.
Three years ago, Rico Corciega was a contractual government worker at the Negros Oriental Provincial Hospital who barely got by. Today, the 36-year old works in an abattoir, and lives comfortably with his family as permanent residents in Manitoba, Canada.
In a high-end pizza chain by the Dumaguete boulevard, Rico sits among old friends Dr. Santiago Tiongson, Joyce Solomon, and Maripol Tecson — “mentors” he calls them — and talks about life in Canada.
He goes on to describe how Manitoba is mostly rivers and lakes, forests and prairies (flat plains), with canola and potatoes as the main produce.“Bugnaw lang siya. Siyay kinabugnawan sa tibuok Canada,” he notes. He says in extreme conditions, the temperature can drop as low as negative 30 degrees Celsius, with a windchill of 40.
Winnipeg, its capital, has the coldest winter weather of any major Canadian city.
In the last 50 years, Manitoba has become a “displaced” Philippine island, housing over 60,000 immigrants from the Philippines, according to the latest census from the Canadian government. It even has its annual Filipino Street Festival that happens in August.
The already-established Filipino community there, according to Rico, has helped his wife Lhing and their two teens, aged 19 and 16, adjust quickly when they followed him after two years.
After the required one year continuous full-time job experience, Rico immediately petitioned for his family, and applied for permanent residency. The Canadian government promptly provided. Lhing and kids have been living with him for a year now. The siblings are enrolled in 11th and 12th grade. Miko, the eldest, has just begun working for Rico’s employer.
“Gatrabaho siya sa stockoff… sa shipping,” Rico says.
In 2015, the job-hunting online platform Kalibrr cited Canada as the 3rd best country for OFWs to work in, next to Singapore and New Zealand.
As a butcher, Rico is assigned to the “specialty room”.
He says most of his co-workers are Filipinos, eight of them from Dumaguete.
They dice the blade shoulder part of the pig, he explains, the part that is marbled with fat and has a lot of connective tissues — which is best for braising, stewing, or barbecuing.
For eight hours every day, Rico and 12 others dice up to 16,000 kilograms per day. This massive amount of specialty cuts, along with other frozen meat products, is then exported to Japan, China, USA, Mexico, and the Philippines.
Their tough labor, of course, earns them significantly more than if they stayed to work in the Philippines. “…Siguro mga 10 times more,” Rico estimates with a glint in his eyes.
Finding work in Canada, according to Rico, is not as difficult as other places, especially because there’s a demand for butchers and other service-oriented jobs.
Generally, he says, one needs the assessment and National Certification (NC I and NC II) of his competencies from the Technical Education & Skills Development Authority, where he enrolled in while working in his government job.
It’s also helpful that one has some actual work experience with local meat vendors; and an agency to help process the application.
His words of advice to those who want to find work outside the country: “Focus. Prayer.”
Rico guarantees: “Naa man mga Pilipino mutabang nimo, mo-assist nimo. Magtabanganay raman mi didto.”
He says that what helped him most, especially when work took a toll on his body, were the prayers of his friends from afar. One of his mentors beside him raises a SanMig Lite, and chimes in, “And Alaxan!” Laughter invades the table.
Aside from packets of pain relievers sent by concerned pals from the Philippines, Rico relaxes with his workmates in Manitoba in many other ways: “…inom, videoke, traditional Pinoy hilot, ug pedicure… kay sideline man na sa mga asawa didto.”
More than anything, Rico says he relieves his stress by mountain biking on Sundays around Neepawa (a town in Manitoba) with other Filipinos.
As a dedicated member here of the Dumaguete Adventure Runners & Runners (DARS) , Rico has always led an active lifestyle.
Now thousands of miles away, he said he misses his Thursday night runs and the long slow distance runs on weekends.
During the winter, he sweats it out with his fitness equipment at home. When the weather in Manitoba gets warmer come July, he says he plans to organize a runners club there “puhon”.
When asked about what he misses most in Dumaguete, he enumerates without hesitation: “Bulad, danggit, nokos, Tempra, Biogesic, Alaxan…”
Apparently, the land of plenty has a fatal flaw: it’s land-locked, and seafood costs a fortune.
At the end of the day, Rico is certain: “Balik gihapon mi diri [Dumaguete], ‘day. Lami gyud diri. Lami gyud atong lugar. Walay makalupig diri.”
It was inevitable, though: he was leaving the City of Gentle people again, to return to the prosperous but unforgivingly-cold Manitoba.
Rico says nothing much has changed about him. One of his mentors makes a joke; he laughs generously.
Actually, one thing is different now: The bill is on him this time. (Queenie Guibao/SU Masscom intern)