Coming 'home'

"So, where is home for you?"   

That is the question that I have, frequently, had to answer for almost a decade now. I admit I find it quite difficult to answer especially that I have lived under sixteen different roofs since I was fifteen years 'young'.  From a cramped to comfortable boarding houses when I was studying at the uni in the Philippines, to some small rental rooms and farm accommodations when I started to get employed in Luzon; and in Australia-- in some old country town residences, in a caravan, in a relatively modern room and a few apartment units.   

Having been granted with an Australian residency and eventually with an Australian citizenship didn't make answering the same question easy at all.  It has, honestly, made it a bit challenging to answer especially that (I have accepted this fact because I could never change it, I don’t mean to discriminate myself here that) my skin, eyes and hair colour is quite unique from the majority of the people living in this country where I work and live. Besides, I have this very strong accent and sadly, no matter how I tried, I still communicate using my broken spoken English.   

I have been living in Bendigo, Victoria, Australia for more than a year now.  This is a lovely regional city with elegant architecture and has been proud of it's history (Victorian gold rush, mid-1800's) to have been literally founded on precious gold!  It was recorded that the first dwellers of Bendigo moved to this place because of their desire to, obviously, find and accumulate treasure.   

For almost fourteen months of being a Bendigo resident, I have never been sure if this is where I actually live... still quite uncertain if this city is actually 'home' for me.  Yes, it feels great to be coming 'home' to my unit every weekend but I also feel 'at home' in those countless motels, hotels, serviced apartments and other accommodations where I would stay every time I'm off for a fieldwork on weekdays.  The drinks and the familiar musty and beery smell of the carpet at the small-town pubs, the meals at RSLs, those take-away lunches from the fast food while on the road and those refreshments onboard the aircrafts- all these make me feel ‘at home', too!   

I am yet to meet a few great friends in this community; it has never been easy to establish friendship especially that I have been always on-the-go. Don't get me wrong, though, because I love who and where I am now, and I definitely enjoy what I have been doing for a living.  Honestly, they're more than enough for me to confidently say that, somehow, I have found my treasure in this 'place'!   

So, where is home for me, then?   

For now, I'd say that that 'place' is this earth. The world is my oyster!  Yes, this is my 'home' because I live in this world.    



[Typed on my phone while on flight QF 679 Melbourne to Adelaide.  20.08.2016]

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Nightfall

The late evening sun was setting behind the vineyards of Rutherglen Estates when a red, 2015 Camry drove off the Mediterranean-inspired courtyard of Tuileries Restaurant.  Against the final glow of the western sky and the elegantly lit, maroon window awnings on the facade of the historic cellar door, he was left alone, standing on that vacant parking space.

IT WAS A DRY, 34-degree day in north east Victoria so Rogelio had decided to be in his most presentable army-green cargo shorts and white collared shirt adorned with a tiny, green crocodile insignia.  A couple of hours earlier he was excitedly getting dressed to catch up with a friend—who, for him, was very special.  He, unfortunately, didn’t get the chance to at least say ‘hi’ when he spotted her in Adelaide a week ago, but their job and fate had luckily brought them together in this picturesque wine village this week.

Amidst the uncomfortable summer evening temperature, Rogelio believed that tonight, luck was on his side.  He was hoping that this meeting would be the perfect moment for him to finally confess his feelings for her that, for so long, had been suppressed!

BUT AS THE streetlamps on Rutherglen’s Main St. came to life, the truth was gradually sinking into his brain—the stars in the universe weren’t aligned for him tonight… He found himself walking along the concrete footpath that was obviously leading to the town centre, yet for him he’s clearly heading towards an unknown direction.

His dear friend was leaving the country!  She’s moving overseas with a guy who recently got promoted in a multinational company he’s working for.  Rogelio’s heart had been bleeding since his friend told him at the restaurant about this decision—a big move that’s truly life changing not only for her, but for him, as well!  Earlier across the table, he’d managed to fake a smile and had sincerely wished her good luck as they bade farewell to each other before she eventually drove off the courtyard. 

By the hilly street, lined with well-maintained buildings of the Victorian Era, he wanted to scream his heart out!  Then a heavy, forest-green wooden door beside him swung open; a few tipsy tradesmen walked off.  He heard billiard balls hitting off the pool table, beer schooners clinking, and a hint of something like a tobacco smoke with a gluey aroma of spilt beer on the carpet wafted through the doorway.

Rogelio went in. 


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Turbulence

THE DIMLY LIT CABIN WAS shuddering thirty-eight thousand feet above sea level but he seemingly failed to notice it.  As the Melbourne-bound Airbus 320 banked to the left to head southeast, his mind was simultaneously drifting back to Mosely Square in Glenelg.  Like the jet engine, Rogelio was trying to control his emotions so he could move on but the drama last night was like an opposing aerodynamic force that, he knew, will surely keep the next few days from propelling.

The natural, mid-morning light was blinding, and its warmth was penetrating through the plexiglass but he couldn’t be bothered to shut the shade of the oval window next to him.  His face was perfectly illuminated thus highlighting his despair!

She’s not mine, she had never been mine, he thought while he was staring blankly outside the aircraft.  After seeing her with another guy that evening—holding hands, and walking together along Jetty Road until they gradually disappeared through the Norfolk pines and into the darkness, he’s certain that she could never ever be his lover.

He gently closed his eyes... took a deep breath, and shook his head. 

Suddenly, the cabin seemed to have quickly dropped in the air, falling from the sky.  The aircraft had managed to gracefully recover just as he opened his eyes.  Then somebody reached out from the aisle to hand him a piece of packed sandwich and an elegant, branded serviette.

He was not hungry.

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Continued here:  Nightfall