I remember this feeling. I found it in Granada as I walked to school along the Río Genil at the break of day, the sun emerging resplendent from behind the Sierra Nevada in an explosion of color. I found it in Panama, as I waited for a motorboat, testing my then-rudimentary Spanish out on a group of 8-year-old boys who, in return, impressed me with their mastery of American vernacular ("you got the money, mang?"). I found it on a beach in Monterey, surrounded by good friends and libations, making music and sending it out across the sea. And here in the Philippines, I'm again confronted with it, daily in fact--the overwhelming feeling that life is beautiful and ought to be lived, not squandered in a cubicle or stashed away in a safe place until we've acquired enough material to ensure ourselves that we'll be comfortable for the last few years before death.
It's an incredible feeling; it tickles the organs in your torso, causes your heart to race, and leaves you in disbelief at the sheer joy and perfection of the moment. It's similar to love maybe, except that its focus is not one person but the entire universe, so that it feels as though your insides might explode for want of being everywhere in this strange, beautiful world at once. Here in the Philippines, it seems I've been experiencing this feeling in abundance, on something of a summer-long heroin binge where the drug in question is life itself.
It hits me everytime I talk with someone who speaks only basic English and yet, somehow, through a motley combination of three distinct languages (sometimes four when Spanish is thrown in for good measure), we manage not only to understand each other, but to produce the most interesting, engaging conversations. I feel it also when it rains, really rains, in thunderous downpours unimaginable outside of the magical realism of the tropics. It comes when I cruise along the coast on a 125cc scooter, wind blowing in my hair, and realize I have absolutely nowhere to be.
But I recognize, as I must, that having nowhere to be is in many ways a luxury that simply isn't available to many. In fact, as I stay here I realize more and more that really I'm quite a spoiled brat. Of course, I doubt that many people would describe me as being bourgeois in the U.S. In fact, I've been able to travel the globe as much as I have precisely because I've lived simply at home--abstaining from unnecessary luxuries like eating out or having a car or cell phone, learning to sew instead of buying new clothes, and really refraining from buying new anything--and abroad, foregoing superfluous conveniences like air-conditioning, hot water, private rooms, etc.
Still, the deciding factor is really that I was lucky enough to be born in the richest country in the world, a place where someone working at Burger King makes more in a week than most people in the world make in a year. Indeed, I'm living this entire summer on less than a month's pay from my tutoring job where I worked 20 hours a week. Granted, I live a simple life here (at least by Western standards), often taking bucket showers, rarely going out to eat or drink, many times having electricity for only part of the day. But in fact, that's key: when you learn to take pleasure in the gorgeous simplicity of life, you can find those euphoric moments everywhere, you don't have to go gallivanting across the globe; I've had loads of them at home in California just enjoying the company of my friends.
This is also one of the most striking things for many people to see here in the Philippines, that despite the hardship of poverty, many people are quite content with their lives.
"Nageenjoy ka ba dito sa Pilipinas?" my uncles often ask me.
"Yes, of course. I love it here!"
"Oo nga!" they reply excitedly, "kasi simple lang ang buhay dito." (I agree! Because life here is just simple.)
It seems that what I enjoy about the Philippines is exactly what many who live here enjoy about it, illustrating that you don't necessarily need to leave your backyard to enjoy life. Still, its fucking fun if you do, and the fact that I'm able to live this simple life anywhere I want in the world is due to the unfair advantage of being American.
I've got plenty of reasons to feel guilty about enjoying my life so much, but I can't bring myself to do it. On one hand, it sounds conceited for me to imagine that the vast majority of people in this world don't have it as good as I have it, but on the other, it seems even more conceited to take it for granted and not be thankful for every moment of this amazing life. Outside of the U.S., most people don't do what I do because they simply can't either because of financial or political obstacles. Back home, it's a different story.
The most common response I get when I talk to people (those I know and those I don't) about what I've been up to in the last few years is also the most frustrating one: "Man, I wish I could do that." Well guess what motherfucker, you can. Anyone can. And tens of thousands of people do. It's simply a matter of priorities. I'm not saying that everyone should sell all their shit and take off to foreign countries, and I don't think that this lifestyle is necessarily better or worse than any other; it seems to suit me well, but there are downsides also. I'm just saying that if you don't sell all your shit and go abroad, it's not because it's out of your reach, it's just because you've decided (probably for very legitimate reasons) that other things in life are more important. I think it's critical that we make that distinction, because there's nothing inherently wrong with having a stable job and remaining in one place with a consistent circle of friends and family. I do think it's a problem, however, when people stay in a situation they might not be happy with simply because they think it's all they can do, not realizing how fucking immense, intriguing, and easily accessible the rest of the world is. And again, I'm talking mostly to those who live in the U.S., since people in the developing world unfortunately don't have the means and Europeans have the means but they're already pretty good at enjoying life.
Anyway, enough of that rant. It's just that sometimes I want to shout at the top of my lungs the beauty of the world I live in, but I think better of it, lest I draw awkward stares.
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