“I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.”

This is the first night back...home.

Or what I now call home.

Oddly, it does feel like home. It carries what many my claim to be the key characteristics of a ‘home’; safe and satisfying.
Although the sounds, smells and sights are so unfamiliar to me, taking my evening walk back down our quant little street was comforting. It reminded me of when I was little and I would pull up to my house after a long trip to my cottage, and, as much as I was sad to be “back to reality”, I was happy to be home. To think, at that time my comfort stemmed from the familiarity of my home. Not only the raw materials. Yes, I do think that played a part, but it was really just a physical representation of what it symbolized to me emotionally. Rather, it was the priceless intangibles that evoked the warm feeling in my tummy; my family, Love. That feeling that some people spend their entire lives trying to revive.
Now, in Iloilo, the town I call home, that same feeling is derived from something different. Of course it is, given that the familiar love I once grasped so tightly is now half way across the world. I think this feeling may come from the appreciation of being one of the lucky ones in this awe-inspiring world we all inhabit. One of the people to have a place to call ‘home’. Somewhere to rest my head and calm my thoughts. To prepare my dinner after a long day of work.
Mind you, maybe I’m being presumptuous here. Home is something that is so incredibly personal to each and every one of us. Some of us have homes that require two mortgages and a 72 hour work week. Yet, these people may never truly revive that sought after childhood feeling. The warmth, the familiarity of love that your home represents. Others, others may not even have four walls to call their own. And here in the Philippines, this rings very true for over 40 percent of the population. Yet, although they may have little to no faith in their government or their social institutions, what they have truly experienced is the love of family and friends. And maybe that’s all it takes to evoke that lovely fuzzy feeling. I guess, depending on who you are, that realization could be a great thing, or a huge disappointment. Especially if you have worked your entire life to have walls to call your own. Many, beautiful walls.

I have so much to say about all of the things I have experienced since my last post.

We spent this past weekend in Borocay. It is likely the most acute Filipino representation of how un-fettered capitalist oriented growth can manifest itself within an ecologically delicate, rural, agrarian based island. Only 10 years ago, the island was still relatively owned and operated by the locals. There was no electricity and only a few small hotels. The waste and water system was sustainable and locally managed, and the beaches were still naturally clean.
Today, it is trodden with obscenely large, fancy resorts, mostly owned by some German or American company. The waste issue has become completely unmanageable by local people, yet of course they are the ones who are bearing the costs. The corals have all (and I mean ALL) died due to the heavy amounts of gas and chemicals spewing into the shore.
Now, this is the worst part. The locals own none of this. This form of development has not seemed to help them at all, financially or socially. Many are left with little to no land, a poor fishing environment and highly seasonal—and thus unreliable—incomes.

Many are making their money off of tourism. Whether it be operating island hopping/snorkelling/scuba diving activities or working at the foreign owned restaurants, resorts or retail outlets.

We travelled there during the off-season, so it was not as busy as it would be from November to May. Therefore, many of the locals are making little to no money at this time. Subsequently, they are can only vigorously market their services to however care’s to show up, be they Chinese, Korean, Australian or Canadian. None of the capital is theirs. In light of all this ‘development’, they actually own less.
Of course, the trip itself was awesome. We went island hopping, caving, snorkelling and kayaking (As I was spending all the money to perform such activities, I couldn’t help but think “support the locals!”). We soaked in the rays while sipping Mango Margaritas. It is the tropical destination that all of us Westerners, tormented by the realities of living in a temperate climate, pay the big bucks to explore.
Nevertheless, it makes the thought of such a trip much more difficult when all of the locals describe Borocay as the “what not to do” of Filipino planning and development. Then, they immediately ask “so have you been there yet?”
As I reply “no” (This is before I went of course), they lift their eyebrow in confusion and say “why not!?!?!?! that's where all the foreigners are, you must go!”