There’s a better life for you out there

My stomach lurches at the thought of Melbourne.

Last August, I spent 20 fantastic days in Australia. Before I went there, I thought I’d never recover from chronic burnout, but of course, I was wrong. Jason Silva was right: “Beauty can heal.”

My sister and brother-in-law did a good job touring me and Papa around the city, bringing us to places they thought we’d like and ‘need’ to see. Their apartment was right amid the central business district, so almost all the good spots in Melbourne were walking distance or could be reached by tram.

Each day, we trod the long streets towards somewhere nice—libraries, museums, parks. I noticed it had a lot of things that my mother country doesn’t have—free transportation, free water, and clean and cold air. I didn’t even have to spend anything just to change my work environment: their gorgeous libraries are free, and I could rest my eyes on a lovely painting after doing paperwork.

In 20 days, I felt like I already knew Melbourne by heart, but there were still a lot of places left for me to see. What’s more is I couldn’t get enough of those I had already seen. For souvenirs, I didn’t buy anything for myself—I just brought home a brochure from the Towns Hall and a free copy of the Philippine Times which I got from the Philippine Consulate Office.

I liked my disposition when I was in Australia. There, I learned that it’s possible to live a better life—that I could take care of myself and remotely earn at the same time (since I was a visiting tourist). And days after my return to the Philippines, I could still see paintings whenever I closed my eyes. I did my best to preserve its memory and guarded it in my heart like a fragile child. I also started to refuse tasks that would burn me out, allotted more time for rest and leisure, and spent less money as I could.

But it didn’t last long.

I live in a third-world country after all. And inasmuch as I want to adopt the life I lived there while I am here, I can’t help reality from sinking in.

Here, you cannot get good things gratis. The polluted air is free. You pay for gallons of drinking water and the faucet water that occasionally coughs out brown dirt at the first stream. If you live far in the North or South, you need to take about three modes of transportation to get to the center of Metro Manila. And if you want to take one comfortable and fast ride, you have to pay for more than half a thousand pesos.

If I want to survive and thrive here, I need to earn much more. I have to work hard—and ‘work hard’ means pushing my limits. I have to accept that I’ll most likely burn myself out again. I should’ve thought of Australia as merely a gas station from the get-go.

The reality is that harsh. Some places can only be our temporary sanctuaries. Others are our constant battlefields. But if I’d be given the chance, I’ll bend over backwards to study and work where I could relish and build a better life—one that I could bring back with me in the Philippines if I really need to eventually stay here. Because I only have one life.

Photo taken by  Weyne Yew