Philippines Books

Today was one of those days.  Perfect.  There is a lot that can be fixed about this country, a lot that drives many of us foreigners up the wall, although if it is locally constructed that wall just might collapse on you. But there is so much to appreciate, to cherish and enjoy. Today was one of those days.  We went for a picnic.  Only a small picnic, just six adults and four kids.  Hardly worth cooking the rice by Filipino picnic standards. But we went all the same.

Everybody piled into the Red Terror and Papa Jusing and Vangie followed behind on the Lifan 100cc Super Tourer, minus the side car as the pigs are still too small to take to market.  The women had packed a mighty picnic lunch and lots of drinks and ice and with pots rattling in the boot we were off. Not too far from home we turned off the main road and went along the dirt, barangay road to the sea.  The chosen spot was beautiful!  A lovely bay with a coral beach and clear, azure blue water.  We parked the car next to some fishing bancas, under the shade of a jackfruit tree and got out the stuff.  

High tide meant that the water deepened nice and close to the beach. Most of the coast along northern Cebu is mudflat reaching out a long way before the reef drops off into deeper water. It can make finding a decent swimming hole a bit of a lottery.  When you do find one, there is often a“resort” clogging the shore and charging money for a “cottage”.  Cottages are nothing more than a table and bench with a roof over it.  Mama Alice didn’t want to spend the money on something we really didn’t need, so we were “roughing” it.

The girls had gone into Daanbantayan earlier and bought pork, chicken, fish and pancit noodles.  The local jeepneys were on strike so they had to grab a “Habal-Habal” motorcycle taxi to get home.  The rice and pork and pancit were cooked before we left and Papa Jusing handled the BBQ for the chicken
and fish.  I went for a swim with my two daughters. After we enjoyed the water, it was time to eat, so everybody just hooked in with their fingers and enjoyed the sumptious repast.  I sipped a few bourbon and cokes while the others drank soft drinks or beer as the want took them. The kids played on the waters edge and collected more shells than they would be able to carry home in a month of Sundays. Life was good.

It’s the simple things in life like a family picnic by the sea that makes living here so worthwhile.  I never have to worry about some psycho abducting one of my kids and abusing them, it just doesn’t happen here.  At school they may have to learn the National Anthem and salute the flag, but nobody
frisks them for firearms or checks their bags for drugs. We lit a fire on the sea shore and nobody came along to tell us to put it out or to move on.  We minded our business and everyone else minded theirs. Driving back to the city we passed no radar traps, no speed cameras, no highway cops.  Nobody to tell me how to drive, how to live, how to enjoy my life.  Common sense rules.  If someone oversteps the mark, it gets dealt with sooner or later, usually permanently.  Few step over the mark, we all know what is right and what isn’t, nobody has to play Big Brother.

Back home we are legislated into a false sense of security.  We think we are safer because there are rules, regulations, ordinances, standards.  But are we really that much better off?  Workplace safety is definitely better back home, but most regulations just save the stupid from their own stupidity. When there is no social security safety net you tend to look after yourself a little more.  

Where I came from if there was any risk, we screamed until the government legislated against it.  Then we relaxed and felt safer, knowing there are laws and rules to protect us; mostly from ourselves.  We lost touch with the reality that life is an inherently risky undertaking, even in this modern age. The Filipino’s haven’t lost that sense of reality.  They live with it every day, they just choose not to let it get them down.  How they keep on smiling, day after day with little of what we would consider hope for the future, is an inspiration to me.  Life here is at a slower pace.  It is a pace where you can take the time to smell the coffee, the roses, the buwad, the garbage, but also take the time to enjoy your life, and your family.  OK, it might not be paradise, nowhere is.  But since happiness is a choice, I choose to think it is, indeed, a paradise. At least for me and my own.