Rants, Raves & Restless Thoughts

I’m coming home I’ve done my time…so goes the lyrics of a sentimental old song, I smile as I hum to its tune, for I empathize with the vocalist’s words and feel the longing, anticipation and uncertainty he expresses. Like the singer, I too am on my way home after over a year and a couple of months of detainment (at my job) here in Qatar. Alas, I will get to be in the loving company of my family and friends once again! (Yahoooooiieee!) I find it difficult to contain my excitement  as I look forward to the days I will be spending back home (even if it’s still a few months away) and simultaneously try hard to block out the thoughts which remind me that my freedom will be short-termed and short-lived.

As I fantasize about the things I’ll be doing and the people I’ll be seeing, I look back to the year that was and observe that a migrant workers’ lifestyle is somewhat comparable with that of inmates (or at least that’s how I feel). Since we too are incarcerated, not by jail cells but by the thousand miles of ocean that separates us from our homeland and by our contracts which keep us from going home. We are similar to jailbirds crying for liberation, though we desire not just to be free but to be home, close to the ones we love.  Resembling convicts, we cross out the number of days that have passed ‘til we reach the eagerly anticipated moment of freedom, either the end of our contract or on the day we go for our vacation leave. Fortunately unlike prisoners, we are well-compensated for our services, we have the liberty to go wherever we wish (as long as it’s in Qatar), and we have our annual reprieve in the form of a vacation leave (plus there is no tattoo riddled thug asking us to bend over to pick up the soap). Thank God for small blessings!

I push aside my sentimental observations and revert to daydreaming, visualizing myself doing things I neglected to do and visiting people I had taken for granted. I notice that there are a lot of things I miss, others quite trivial and some extremely noteworthy, I can’t imagine how I could fit doing it all in a span of two months. It sometimes seem that we are part of a cosmic joke, pining for the things we would’ve liked to do only when we don’t have the opportunity to carry them out, longing to set out to places we never even visited when it was just a stone’s throw away, yearning for the persons we care about most only when we can’t be with them and then being given the opportunity to make up for all these, in such a short time span. It feels tragically amusing to be in such a quandary.

In retrospect, I assess why I have arrived at such a dilemma. It dawns on me, I was either too preoccupied in pursuit of my endeavors or was just too caught up in self indignation then, to notice I was neglecting countless persons and overlooked several chances to do the things which I now miss. I have come to realize that we have to occasionally take a step back and view our lives in a different perspective in order to completely appreciate its true splendor; otherwise we remain stuck in the unending cycle of taking for granted seemingly inconsequential things. I feel fortunate it didn’t have to take a catastrophic event for me to arrive at such an insight and look forward to setting things straight come vacation time.

However my excitement comes with a tad of ambivalence, after hearing the tales of my compatriots who have returned from their trip home. After recounting cheerful stories of reunion and recreation, some have said that much is expected (financially) from pinoy foreign workers. Some have shared that they had to spend a great deal to impress their whole clan, lest be labeled a scrooge whilst others ruefully stated that their friends disappeared as soon as the free drinks ran out. Even some well compensated friends relate that going home is quite expensive and often they return cash strapped. This bodes ill for first timers like me who have yet to amass a lot of cash for a big fat savings account.

I Break free from the clutches of worry and set aside my unfounded fears, confident that my company weighs much more than its weight in gold (at least to my family and genuine friends) and contemplate more on how to squeeze the things I want to accomplish in the short duration of my vacation. No matter how I see it, two months cannot compensate for a year long absence. All the special occasions I missed can never be taken back and celebrated all at one time, it just won’t feel right. Time waits for no one, thus the best option for me, would be to wisely make the most of the allotted time I have and be grateful I’ve been given such a splendid opportunity.

Sensing that my ruminations are frequently derailing my wishful thoughts, I pick up from where I left off and picture myself being soaked in sand-free rain. I can almost smell the rain and feel the raindrops on my face, while I hear my angels cheering and giggling.

My boss drops in, daydreaming time is over.

I continue humming the tune in my head and wonder if there will be ribbons when I arrive home.**

** to the wiseguys: not to be taken literally..too sappy..hehehe

Wake up, Eat, Work for 10 hours, Eat, Watch
TV or DVD, Tinker with the laptop, Sleep.  Repeat 6 days a week. On the night of the
sixth day, either do the laundry and some menial chores or go out to drink with
some friends if there’s booze available or engage in warfare and conquer evil
forces through network games with some buddies. On the seventh day, sleep,
sleep, sleep and eat, that is if it’s declared as a non-working Friday,
otherwise resume regular daily routine. Come salary time send money home, shop
for supplies, and eat at a fancy place then go back to regular programming. Repeat
for three hundred sixty five days or until parole (read: scheduled vacation
leave). This has been my daily / monthly pattern for the past year. Gratefully,
I have survived and adapted to this new lifestyle which is so unlike the life I
used to live, barely earning enough but happy with the company of loved ones.

Though it has been a painfully boring routine
at times, it is undeniable that it has been financially rewarding. However, it
sometimes feels that the sacrifice isn’t worth it, especially when the longing
for the company of your nearest and dearest sets in. For a person who believes
that the best things in life can not be compensated by money, it is an ironic
dilemma, to be earning well but yearning for the company of the people he
treasures most,  all the time. The ends they say will justify the means,
but does it really?

During drinking sessions with friends, we
occasionally talk about the drone-like existence we endure just to earn well,
observations about the Philippines; the advantages of our culture and our flaws
as a people which impede our nations’ progress aside from the regular topics of
the best buy laptops, the next cool gadget, vacation plans, the necessitated practice
of celibacy, sex, cup sizes, fantasies, fetishes, women, sports and what to do
next weekend to avoid boredom. On several semi-somber/sober occasions we
discussed if working back home would still be an option, what would be the
ultimate result and other by-products of working away from the family and how
long will we be in servitude of foreign masters toiling far away from the
homeland?

We have collectively agreed that we would
probably survive if we chose to seek employment back home, then again that
would mean going back to the circus, doing the financial juggling act and being
the underpaid multi-tasking workhorse. If we can get employed as an executive in
a prestigious multi-national company, our fortunes might change. However I
think it would be easier to prove that unicorns and vampires exist, rather than
be fortunate enough to be hired by a blue-chip company with the vast
competition that abound. With these thoughts in mind, we come to the conclusion
that working in the Philippines
under the current economic situation would be the final option.

On the other hand this would mean many more
years of staying employed overseas, an option I personally find unpleasant and
unacceptable. I abhor the thought of missing more milestones in my children’s
life. It has always been my dream to be an active participant in their lives,
as they find their way through the path of their life.  To be able to share with them their joys and
pains, to impart some of the wonderful and harsh lessons I’ve learned, to be
their buddy and adviser, to see my daughter transform into a woman and my sons
become men. These are the moments in a person’s life that cannot be compensated
by any amount of money.

A veteran OFW tells me, that missing out on
a child’s transformation is part and parcel of a migrant worker’s way of life,
lest he can bring his family to the host country where he works. Unfortunately,
this is an option limited only to a handful of OFW’s, for not all companies
/  employers support such endeavors.

Another buddy narrates the tale of a
migrant worker who has spent most of his life employed overseas to support his
family and see his children through school. He comes home only once a year, as
an OFW usually does. Finally, retiring from his job after the youngest child
has completed his studies. He hopes to finally spend some quality time with his
family, following years of being far away. As luck would have it the tables are
turned, it is his turn to be to be left behind. This time by his children, some
who already have families of their own and flew the coop while the others have
sought employment abroad to seek their own fortune.

As I listen to his heartrending story, I remember
a friend who had an OFW father. His dad provided for them well, gave them the
best gifts and sent them to first-rate schools when he was younger. To make the
story short after his studies his dad came home and that was the time their
disagreements began. The praises he previously showered upon his father for
sending him the best gifts had been replaced by resentment and complaints. They
didn’t notice it, but it was quite obvious, they were strangers. In my friends’
eyes, his father has been a good provider / giver of gifts but not a really dad
and probably in his father’s eyes, he was just another mouth to feed and sent
to school, a responsibility to be honored and not really a son.

Hearing such tragic tales makes me wonder
if this is the end that will justify the means. In an ironic sense, I guess it
does, but ultimately it won’t be worth the sacrifice. One has carried out his
duty as a good provider but at the cost of being an absentee parent resulting
in a shallow relationship. It is too steep a price to pay just to fulfill an
obligation. Time lost can never be regained, other means can be found to
meet a need. As I see it at the end of our borrowed time, our family won’t
be reminiscing how much we had given them in our absence but how loved we made
them feel while we were in their presence.

I utter a prayer and hope my fate will be
different from the stories I heard. But until the day I change my destiny,
stuck to the usual routine I shall be.

Wake up. Eat. Work for 10 hours. Sleep……..

* OFW=Overseas Filipino Worker

Not so long ago I was buried in the pits, consumed by substance abuse, blinded by pride, fueled by anger and thoughts of retribution. I heeded no one’s advice and listened only to those I felt had the moral ascendancy to address me. I caused an insurmountable amount of pain to the persons I held most dear but at that time, I didn’t care. I used to think I had everything under control, I calculated the risks and weighed the factors of my deeds, I was confident I would be able to bear whatever the consequences of my actions would be. I couldn’t have been more mistaken in my entire life.

I had to lose the company of the people I treasure most, just to realize how much of a fool I had been. I had let the rage inside me take control of my senses, unknowingly priming myself for a massive meltdown. It is truly ironic that regret comes only after the deed has been done. I realized I miscalculated and used the wrong formulas in my risk assessment, or in more simple terms, I fucked up big-time! For some time, I wallowed in sorrow and depression, spending many a night shedding tears of regret and shame, calling for heavenly guidance and forgiveness. Even in the company of friends, I felt alone. In solitude, I contemplated on my foolishness and wish I could take it all back. I paid a steep price just to prove my point and it wasn’t worth it

Fortunately, through the support of my family, assistance from some friends and divine intervention, I have emerged from the most tumultuous time of my life wounded but hopeful and optimistic. I am still alive and have every chance to make things right. I’ve been blessed with another opportunity to straighten my life. I now have a stable well-paying job and a new circle of friends, albeit I am quite far away from home. Still, I can not help but be grateful for this wonderful opportunity, for not everyone is given the same chance. Thus it delights me so, to see that a handful of my former comrades are on the same track as I, making amends and starting afresh.

As I turn over a new leaf, I try hard not to let the stigma of my past weigh me down nor forget all the lessons I’ve learned. The pain I bear each day I’m away from the ones I love, serve as a constant reminder of the things I had to learn the hard way. I had taken the crooked path to learn my most important lessons and though the journey was tough and the fare too costly, the lessons have opened my heart and mind to things other people are barely aware of or usually just take for granted.

I still have a long way to go setting things straight with the persons I offended and maligned, hopefully I can still piece together everything I’ve broken. I am optimistic for I’m quite sure that as long as I stay focused and keep distractions at bay (and with divine guidance /assistance), achieving my goals won’t be far away. ☺☺☺