DIGGING IN THE DIRT

What was I thinking?

Sure, I have always maintained that I am a PromDi. During college, after dropping out, even when my work then was at the heart of the Quezon City’s lush and pompous business district, my being PromDi is what kept me firmly pinned down on the ground. Never mind that the usual urban prerequisites and crass lifestyle assimilated me into its folds, my PromDi beginnings never did leave my consciousness. After shifting into mobile graphics and UI, donning fairly presentable duds at the office, using high-powered computers, mingling with the so-called business types, deep down I’m still a PromDi.

So, what the heck was I thinking? Have I lost my mind?

Late January 2008, circumstances prodded me to abandon my job and decide to just live in the countryside. My wife is a pure Bicolana, living in Sipocot, Camarines Sur. About a couple of years before, they went to live there while I stayed in Makati where the job is. But all seemingly good things must end. Anyway, there were two versions. It’s either I resigned from job, or they fired me, depends on whom the story you heard from. So there I was, 39, a bit overweight from the day-in, day-out sitting  in front of the PC, with my default program being Photoshop, creating images, icons, web headers, UI’s, etc. Hell, just to break the monotony, I brew coffee for everybody, even did some write ups for content, of which the marketing and sales department should be doing. Four years of hotdog breakfasts from 7-Eleven, Pares, the occassional freebie food by my boss, yup, I thought I was just a bit flabby from the lack of anything heavy to do. Besides, what was I supposed to do after work? I time in before 7 am at the office and time out way after 7 or 8 pm, the excess hours mostly are not filed for overtime. My own twisted logic at being loyal and ‘taking one for the company’. Bloody well it did me. So I decided to leave and settle here  in Bicol.

What was I thinking?

At first, I thought  I could easily hack it. Come on, when I took the job at TOEI Animation I know my skills with illustration is what landed me that job. The Graphic/Concept Artist gig didn’t phase me, even without prior knowledge of what I was supposed to do. Observe, Learn and Adapt is what I always say. And I did. Or, at least, I made a darn good impression of knowing what I was doing. I maintained that with my own hunger to learn new stuff could get me through and did.

But what was I thinking?

Here in Sitio Talidong, Sipocot, Camarines Sur, about 150m above sea level, 2.5km from the center of town, and really the embodiment of what we now concieve as primitive, me and my wife and two daughters built our home. Cool refreshing water you fetch from the stream, about 700m from the house and steep as a cliff. Using a pas-anan, 6 or 8 gallons the usual load. But you have to take 3 trips down and back to fill the containers at the house. After about a week of sara-sakdo, my bones, joints and muscles are all screaming bloody murder.

Cooking you do with oring on a coal stove, or when feeling a bit frisky, sungo at the kamalig where we built a stove made from three small boulders. The kamalig is one of my ideas that seemed to work. The last on the stove should always be the pot for boiling water. Smoke gets in your eyes, you smell like tinapa for hours and then you have to do it again before nighfall.

What the heck was I thinking?

My own contribution to our livelihood is to earn a few bucks with my delusions of making it as a freelance graphic artist. Good thing my wife is ever thinking up ways to earn like making cassava cake. Here a days earning of Php150 to 200 is not bad, considering we lay at the table 60% of what we have grown. I’m a freeloader most of the time, with me still waiting for jobs to come my way but still hopeful of new viable gigs to come soon. Nevertheless, our own cassava cake is making waves, without food coloring and preservatives. Three times a week we prepare, cook and pack cassava cakes from dusk to way deep in the night and deliver them to friends the next day. Beats asking for help elsewhere.

What was I thinking?

It took 2 months before our electricity came through. The tv gets only 3 good channels and two with just the audio. My internet connectivity means I have to get down to Coloy-Coloy, still another steep walk down 1.5km, crossing a river before hitting the road. If it’s raining, and believe me, the rains here would put your fleet of sprinklers at The Fort to shame. Better make sure you get all at the grocery store or else you have to walk a ways just for a couple of cigarrettes. Even with public transportation available, the wait for a jeepney to pass should have taken you to town if you walked an hour before.

What in logic’s name was I thinking?

Everywhere is colored, tainted and stained in green. There’s always a posibility that a snake or a boa might find its way to your doorstep, animal poop everywhere, and mud could play nasty on your nerves.Washing the dishes at night is always a chore, and the kids have nowheren else to go to play because our nearest neighbor is 300m away.

So, what was I thinking?

Well, lots. This is the first time in years that I’ve really done things physically. My weight is down,flab’s gone, and sleeping for 8 hours or more did wonders for my constitution. I wake up and sleep with my wife and daughters, eat dinner and watch tv with them, unlike my own miserable life alone in the city. Never have I enjoyed cooking and eating food high in fiber, way less fat, and fresh. My eldest is going to a good school, ny youngest will be there soon and I do think we are presently just experiencing some . . .  inconvenience.

I love it here. Everything else is just inconvenience. The frugal simple life appeals to me. And here is where we make our stand in life.