It amuses me when I overhear people wonder “Where did time go?”
Ironically, that’s what I found myself asking as I thought back to this time three years ago when I left America to begin a new life here in the Philippines. How did the past three years speed by so swiftly?
The answer is simple. It disappeared the same way all other years did on my brief journey through time.
“You’re going WHERE? Why there?” That was the hostile, almost colonial reaction about my moving to the Philippines from America.
“But it’s a Third World country.”
“What does that mean to you?” I’d ask.
“Well, its not a good place to live.”
“How do you know that?” I’d ask, while shaking my head, realizing meaningful conversation was improbable.
They knew as much as I did about living in the Philippines. That meant they knew nothing.
All my life, I’ve been getting negative reactions when I throw on my backpack, and move to a new country. Reactions began a lifetime ago when I first left Ireland.
By leaving, I was questioning the wisdom of their staying. I was suggesting their way of life was insufficient. I was questioning the basis for their existence. That’s uncomfortable for them even on a subconscious level.
“Why should I not live in the Philippines?” I’d ask my American friends.
“Well, their health care system is poor. And it’s dangerous there.”
“Dangerous? And America isn’t?”
“What will you do when you become ill there?”
“I’ll die, hopefully quickly.”
A confused silence was usually accompanied by frowns, and vigorous shrugging of shoulders.
“What am I supposed to do?” I’d ask. “Sit around here wasting my life, waiting to become old and sick, then clap my hands joyfully because I can finally get good medical treatment?”
That was irrational and illogical. I refused to accept it. The clock on my life span is ticking faster each year. I’m not conscious of fearing death, although the possibility of eternal darkness does concern me.
I do, however, fear wasted time on this terrestrial plane. I want to, need to, make the most out of each day left to me. I’ve been traveling and living in different countries all my adult life. The Germans have an appropriate word for it, wanderlust. That need has always coursed through my veins. I’ve lived in countries on four continents and one subcontinent. They are Europe, (Ireland and Holland), North America (Canada and the United States), Central America (Costa Rica), South America (Brazil), and now Asia (The Philippines.)
I left Ireland at age 19 when I ran away to sea.
Will the Philippines be my final adventure? I hope so, but can’t be certain. I knew nobody in the Philippines. Well, I did know Vhie but wasn’t talking to her. I had no plans, nowhere to live. And I delighted in all of that.
It was going to be another uncharted adventure. I’d done it several items before. I’ve always been a gambler with life.
At age 24, I decided to leave Manhattan. It was October. Not a good time to be in harshly- cold Toronto while the party life in New Orleans would probably have killed me. I had a choice of heading north to Toronto, Canada, or south to New Orleans. I threw a coin along the sawdust-covered floor of a local bar, and asked my dear friend Edi to pick it up. If it was heads, I’d be going to New Orleans; if tails, Toronto.
“So where am I going?” “Toronto.” Five hours later, I was on a Greyhound bus heading north to freezing Toronto. Why would going to live in Asia concern me? “But Dad, that was long, long ago!” My eldest son Brian reminded me. “So?” I responded. Brian groaned knowing it was pointless to dissuade me.
What has happened over the past three precious years of my life living in the Philippines? Was it a good move? The simple answer is an unreserved YES.
I didn’t draw up a list of what I hoped to experience. That has never been part of my approach to change. ‘Let whatever fate has intended happen’ has always been my belief system. Had I drawn up a list, I doubt it would have equaled the actual outcome of living here.
It’s been a delightful experience. My only regret is embarrassment at my rude behavior in the early months, and admittedly on subsequent occasions when I became frustrated by the rampant inefficiency, by being told to wait “for a while” which could turn out to be a few minutes, a few hours, or never. Frustration at ATMs so often not being accessible; frustration at often-non-existent Wi-Fi access; frustration at being in a restaurant and being totally ignored by waitresses with backs turned who, oblivious to customers’ needs, are involved in animated conversations; frustration for asking in Robinsons or Hypermart where an item is located, only to be given a vague wave of the hand and the meaningless, classic “Over there” reference.
There are other legitimate frustrations such as the Immigration bureau which brings the concept of incompetence to a new level, but since nothing will ever change, what’s the point in me, or any other foreigner living here getting upset over it?
That’s simply the way it is, and always will be! I needed to accept the way it is, or leave. I had to stop whining, and ask myself why I was living here.
As Vhie reminded me, leaving is always an option. And it’s unlikely a national day of mourning will be announced because of my departure or that of any unhappy foreigner.
Once I overcame my frustrations and accepted the way life operates here, everything changed in a positive way.
That great life lesson, acceptance of what is, rather than what I might want, enriched me. It created calm where turmoil had previously reigned supreme.
When I woke this morning, I was gifted, as usual, with a glorious dawn, and a spectacular view of the mountainside, and the sea beyond, while Nature’s chorus provided musical accompaniment for the unfolding spectacle.
If I ever stop appreciating those precious moments, then shame on me.
So what about the future, my future, your future? I suggest the future is an illusion.
When you began reading the previous sentence, what was called your future now has become your past. It’s a fleeting measurement of time that’s relatively meaningless. All that is relevant is NOW, this precious moment, this present millisecond of time. Everything else is in the past.
So now I focus on grasping the utmost joy from every moment before it quickly disappears. None of us knows the moment we will die. And that’s probably good. I hope when the inevitable arrives, I’ll be thinking of love rather than anger.
Am I asking too much?
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