I’m driving uphill to Antipolo. It’s fascinating to see cyclists pedaling their way upward. There are areas where the incline is so steep that it seems almost impossible to move an inch on a bicycle. How do they do it? Sheer grit? Quad power? Beats me, but somehow they manage to propel themselves forward, or in this case, upward.
I like physical activity, but cycling is not my cup of tea. So I’m driving towards Antipolo now. I wonder where they sell freshly-slaughtered cow. Since I move to my new place I have never seen any meat seller who’s offering fresh beef. I guess there is always a tradeoff. Back in the mountains, there are several beef sellers whose table are filled with newly delivered flesh. They would say it had been slaughtered early in the morning.
I hope I could find fresh beef in Antipolo. So I’m driving around. No sign of fresh beef. Why not drop by the main market? So I drive there. Whoah the prices here are an arm and a leg. And there is no fresh beef. It’s expensive here. Even the avocados are twice as expensive as down there in Marikina. I’m tempted to buy avocados as I ran out of them already. But I think I still need to take my chance by driving further a little more.
After driving a little bit farther, I decide to just head back home. I’m about to be late for an appointment anyways if I don’t hit the road back home. While driving downhill, I notice that there is a goat meat shop. Goat meat? Well, let’s try goat meat this time. It’s pricey, but it’s novel to eat goat. It’s not a common option for protein, but I want to try it anyways.
But it’s not the goat meat that’s the highlight that day. I found out that the guys selling goat meat are from the same island as my hometown. They were all from Capiz. Then I realize that people in the capital of any country usually have inhabitants from other areas like the countryside. In this country, we are like a globe ourselves. Being composed of more than seven thousand islands, when people move from one island to another, it’s like going to another country.
Other countries may just have one landmass within which their citizens could just drive around or take the train. Here, when you go to Luzon (Where Manila is), especially if you come from the middle and Southern part of the country, either you take the boat or you board an aircraft. It’s like leaving your family behind for a foreign country. And true enough, those guys from Capiz are at home with one another.
How about those who live alone? Could they be suffering from loneliness away from their families? I can only guess. But this moving to another area, especially across the sea, must offer both advantages and disadvantages. One may be lonely or feel out of place, but the opportunity to experience new scenarios abounds. It must have taken a lot of courage to move out of one’s hometown and sail the seas, so to speak.
Either people are discontented of their lot in life in their hometown, or they envision an new place to live in, each one has her own reasons for traveling and moving to a new city. But whatever the reason is, I think moving out into another place can grow one as a person. Now that is not to say that if you don’t move out you are not going to grow at all. You may grow, but not to a degree that moving out could offer.
When moving to a new city, it will test your tenacity. You are going to push out of your comfort zone. New people, new language, new food, higher standard of living, and sometimes new culture. But the learnings and the experience could serve one in the long run. I guess we are all supposed to grow in all directions, physically, emotionally, geographically. As a wanderluster, that’s my paradigm. I may have a different brain wiring, but I believe some are able to identity with it.
Whatever your inclination is, whether staying in your hometown or moving out of it into a new residence, you can always try to challenge yourself so as to feel that life is worth living. For if we don’t challenge ourselves and stay the same, we become stagnant, like a rotting body of water that stinks as time goes by. On the other had, a running body of water, such as a tributary, offers a feeling of hope, something to look forward to.