Rants, Raves & Restless Thoughts

Dateline: September 5, 2006.

Three hundred sixty five days have passed since I started working abroad, but I can still recall vividly the day I first set foot in Qatar, as if it just happened yesterday. The grueling eight hour flight, the scorching heat and the olfactory attack from west Asian passengers marked my initiation to the world of the OFW. I never knew what to expect, it was my first time after all. Though I had long planned on working abroad, I never really envisioned how it would be since I always thought working in the Middle East would be my last resort. Never in my wildest dreams have I imagined that I’d one day end up here in Qatar.

I’ve fantasized of touring the United States and Europe but not in any place in the Middle East, least of all would I have thought of being employed here. My dad single-handedly supported our family without the need of working overseas, neither have I heard him entertain the idea of earning money abroad. He provided for our family well, sending us to the best schools and giving in to most of our whims and caprices. I found no reason why one has to be employed elsewhere just to earn well, that is, until I had a family of my own I needed to support.

Responsibility is an eye opener to reality, comparable to being awakened from a wonderful dream, you wish you can go back to sleep and continue your dream but you know that would be next to impossible. You are left with no choice but to get up from bed and face the real world. My awakening has lead me here in Qatar, cashing in on my last resort. Three growing children entail growing needs, needs which I barely met when I was still working back home. I can’t help but be in awe of my father’s accomplishments, making a name for himself and providing well for us, pulling it off without leaving our homeland.

As I think of ways how to thank my dad, I reflect on how he succeeded in his career and why can I not pursue the same path back home. An officemate provides a simple but accurate reply; the days of yore are different from our present situation. Back in their day, the peso was stronger, the economy and political state of affairs a tad more stable than it currently is, career-wise, competition was manageable and opportunities for development abound. Nowadays the peso is as unstable as the politicians wrestling for the seat of power, competition is cutthroat and developments are limited by the fluctuating economy. It’s disheartening to admit that his statement does hold true somehow, at least for most of us in the construction industry.

In one forum I actively participate in, a question was posted asking if OFW’s are deserters or heroes, deserters for serving other countries instead of their own or heroes for bringing in the much needed dollars that help sustain our economy. It drew diverse responses; some had stated OFW’s were deserters, unwilling to battle it through our economic woes and causing brain drain in effect; others reasoned OFW’s were heroes, not just for supplying dollars that help stabilize the economy but also for showing the world how smart, diligent and unselfish the Filipino people are.

After some introspection, I see myself as neither, I am but a man with a mission. I have a duty to provide well for my growing children, to be able to afford them even a fraction of what my father had bestowed me and my siblings. If in the pursuit of this course of action I become a deserter or a hero, then so be it. If I can earn at least half the amount of what I’m earning here back home, I would never choose to leave. Who in his right mind would desire to work in an unfamiliar environment, where your race is a minority, where customs and practices are entirely different than yours, where you are a million miles apart from the ones that you love? I wouldn’t but I have to.

Some people downplay how much of a sacrifice it is to work abroad. They are unaware of how difficult it is to go home after work daily, only to find your cold uncaring bed waiting for you in your room. No warm smiles, no eager hugs nor sweet laughter and I love you’s that relieve you from the stress of work. Your mind often wanders to where your heart longs to be, Home. In my point of view, homesickness is part of the compensation package we receive. However, I think no amount of money can compensate for this heavy feeling I bear as I trudge to the office day after day and force myself to work.

Homesickness is an OFW’s worst enemy. Idle time is major contributor to this feeling, the time usually allotted to family or friendly interactions every day is inexistent, creating a void that needs to be filled. Some say that the feeling of homesickness is temporary, once you get adjusted to your surroundings and make new friends, you would hardly notice it and soon it would disappear altogether. I believe this is but a sugar coated excuse or a lame form of denial. Homesickness never leaves any person who is away from home, at least not until he gets home, since going home would be the only cure for this malady. I have met some veteran OFW’s who have worked in the Middle East for the longest time, but still suffer from this inescapable disorder. Homesickness drives a handful of OFW’s to seek comfort in the arms of persons other than their legal partner, to compensate for the lack of physical and emotional reinforcement that they would otherwise receive had they stayed and labored at home. Due to their misery, they forget where their priorities lie and the reason why they came to work here in the first place. It takes a person with a strong will to survive the onslaught of temptation and depression; one needs to keep his eyes fixed on his goals, to avoid being derailed. This is the plight of a typical OFW, a predicament I now share, albeit reluctantly.

There have been times I’ve felt like a prisoner, a hostage of duty, incarcerated in a cage without bars, tortured by time and sentenced to suffer years of longing and deprivation, all for the sake of earning well. It is depressing to admit that currently I have no other choice but to remain imprisoned in this situation. I am bound by responsibility to pay forward to my children what my father afforded us, this by no means is an easy task, working here is my only option (for now).

I pause and evaluate if there are better alternatives i can explore back home. Mafi. None. Nada. Not until our economy bounces back and the construction industry rebuilds a stable foundation. Unfortunately for me and a million other OFW’s, that might take a life time. Thus until that time comes, I remain a captive of obligation, responding to the call of duty. A deserter, abandoning the routine of juggling finances monthly and escaping the clutches of financial instability. A hero, investing time, blood and tears to provide the best for his family.

This entry was posted on Friday, August 25th, 2006 at 10:35 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.