What is Left of Home?

“We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors. We borrow it from our children.”

When I think of home, I think of my childhood. It is not a particular place but a certain moment in time, one filled with innocence and expectations, laughter and daydreams echoing across the yellow cornfields as I ran barefooted under the blazing heat of the summer sun towards the peak of Mt Matutum which loomed over the horizon.

That idyllic home of my early years only exists in my memories now. Just after my eight birthday my family was forced out of our comfortable way of life by the influx of squatters taking over the surrounding areas of what used to be agricultural farmlands which were soon turned into sprawling cheap housing developments. My carefree world of open expanse was replaced by the suffocating concrete jungle which became home to hundreds of families like us, coexisting in the dark and grim suburban nightmare of rows of boxlike houses that were separated only by a thin wall between them and very narrow streets. It was considered modernisation then: we were introduced to electricity and public transport that our previous rural existence would have not heard of.

It was modernisation that drove me away from the city I grew up in, mostly because of the lure of the bright lights and big bucks from the country’s financial capital. Yet there had always been a desire to come back, to return to the much simpler way of life compared to the fast paced monotony of the big cities that when I made a brief visit home two years ago, I was expecting to see everything as I have left it. 

But the world is constantly changing and so has my hometown. During the recent years, the city’s economy has shifted from one that is largely sustained by a big fishing industry to one that is retail-driven brought about by large investments from greedy multinational giants who have set up shops in massive shopping malls that have taken over what used to be a rural landscape. This development was welcomed by the local government and the population rather imprudently without consideration for its long-term effects, including the death of local businesses, foreseeable issues with obesity, rubbish disposal problems and  the shortage of electrical power that would grip the city for hours, causing a frequent blackout. Daily Facebook status complaints on the electrical power cuts flood my wall but no one seems to be asking why it is happening, maybe they should.

And yet I wouldn't have asked any questions if I have stayed. My culture insists that we must always try to look at the bright side of things. Living in Europe has made me realise that this almost blind acceptance of fate is the very reason why there is no lasting and meaningful change in a nation that only looks out for number one (or for number one's relatives). In this part of the world, paying high levels of taxes is an accepted way of creating a more equal society where every individual's basic needs are met and problems from the local communities to the general population are rightfully addressed. It takes a shared sense of social responsibility to create a fair and humane society.  

I am not against progress but there is a certain progress that was not considered in the city’s recent economic boom, one that is sustainable and inclusive which would provide for all and not just for the moneyed few. Instead the government has acted in a clichéd ‘short-term gain, long-term pain’ manner. In keeping up with American model of modernisation, my hometown and indeed the rest of the country has lost its identity and most certainly its natural resources. I am scared to think of what the future generations would be  left with.

When I think of my hometown, I am no longer gripped with longing but with sadness. When asked if I still have dreams of settling back, I say no. This is not because I have suddenly become an arrogant immigrant who refuses to look back to my roots but because, aside from my family who were left behind, there is little that is left of the life I have once cherished and would have wanted my own children to have a glimpse of.

Our Christmas Tree is Up

When I announced that we will be doing our tree during the weekend, my friend Andreea shared that in Romania, their Christmas tree does not get decorated until the eve of December 24 which kickstarts their yuletide celebration. As children, they were made to believe that if the tree does not get ready by midnight, Santa Claus will not have anywhere to put his presents. 

This fascinating piece of information has led me to look at the colourful history of this important Christmas tradition and discovered its pagan roots from early modern Germany which has survived their conversion to Christianity. With the endorsement of European royal families in the 19th Century, this expression of German culture amongst emigrants overseas has been adopted all over the world. 

This tradition is also being practiced in my homeland and the most beautiful Christmas trees I have ever seen remains to be those of my childhood’s, before our family could afford the big plastic evergreens we have adopted later on. We don't have a lot of pine trees in my country but with a wealth of local materials and my mother’s creativity, we have always had a Christmas tree. My favourite amongst them was a large piece of dried twig from the forest at the back of our house. It was placed on a tub held up by giant stones and decorated with soap bubbles amidst all the laughter as we pretended that snowflakes were falling on its branches.

So whilst feeling nostalgic about the Christmases of my youth, John and I embarked on the joyful tradition of putting up our tree during the weekend. It stared off with the most important task of choosing the tree, a Nordman Fir we buy from the Tree Amigos, an independent retailer who grows affordable and sustainably farmed trees. Of course the plastic tree is the greener and cheaper option as they can be put up every year but there is something almost magical about a real tree inside the house and it’s an experience that I look forward to every year.

The choosing of the tree itself requires a lot of careful consideration. It has to be the right height and must have just enough thickness to fit in the home. We were confronted with two difficult choices this year, one that is grand and would reach the ceiling of our lounge and another that is small and cosy. In another year perhaps when we have become a grown family we would have taken home the taller one but we settled for the smaller tree which we decorated rather tastefully if I’m allowed to say so.

So yes our tree is up, ready for us to snuggle under the blankets in front of the warm fire as we brace ourselves for yet another cold December.

SoS (Save our Shops)

Before the Great American invention that is Starbucks came to the scene and killed off the genuine coffee culture, independent tea and coffee shops thrived in this part of the world. There were few who survived the harsh realities of globalisation but those who did have managed to keep their loyal customer base largely through their own merits and despite not having the means to extensive advertising campaigns ran by their corporate competitors.

One of those enduring local institutions is the award-winning Northern Tea Merchants in Chesterfield, along the A619 through the heart of the Peak District. Its main business is the selling of speciality teas (of which black, earl grey and camomile are the only ones I could yet distinguish) and coffee beans from all over the world. But anyone can easily be tempted to sit down and experience the delights of drinking freshly ground coffee from a cafetiere savouring the aroma of the beans as they are left to brew. There are of course patrons who also frequent the shop for their regular serving of afternoon tea composed of authentic tea leaves and homemade sandwiches or cakes.

Coffee and tea houses have been traditionally built for the meeting of friends and for refreshment breaks after a long walk or a shopping spree.  Every British high street is littered with them although alarmingly in the recent years, the local independent shops have been viciously forced out of the city centres by big corporate chains who are serving half the quality but who manage to get away with it thanks to brand-obsessed loyal supporters.

This is quite a shame, especially as recent facts revealed that the biggest of these brands, Starbucks, has managed to dodge tax payments in European countries due to elaborate tax avoidance schemes that as part of a global corporate structure it can easily exercise. Despite its massive earnings in the UK alone of £3B since 1998, it has only ever paid £8.6M of income tax. In 2011, despite reporting $40M profit to its shareholders, it paid no taxes to the UK government by reporting a $60M loss for that year. Clever accountants, you might say, and stupid tax man for that matter. But as a tax-paying citizen of any country where these corporate giants operate, we should all be alarmed about this blatant robbery right under our very noses.

But all is not bleak afterall.  A village in Dorset has successfully won their campaign against allowing another corporate brand, Costa, to infiltrate their neighbourhood that thrives on independent local businesses. Of course one can say that villages are more powerful in this country, they can easily get things done because there are fewer votes required to constitute a majority. But I’m still a believer of ‘every little counts’. Any voice no matter how small can still make a difference, any pound spent on a local shop that pays taxes can fuel the very economy that gives us jobs and is paying for our health services amongst others. This is called social responsibility and this is probably what David Cameron meant with his visions of The Big Society. 

Links: 
http://www.northern-tea.com/
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-19967397
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/finance/newsbysector/retailandconsumer/9633951/Small-Devon-town-wins-fight-against-multinational-Costa.html

Saving the World

Charity should not be mistaken as a single grand act of kindness or a moment of heroism that brings with it a ‘feel good’ factor and a pat in the back for a job well done.

In the light of the recent flooding in Manila, I admired the heroic acts of my compatriots, many of them are my friends, who initiated donation campaigns and relief operations for the thousands of people who were uprooted from their homes. It’s nice to know that in a time when the country seems to have been overtaken by the American culture it so openly embraces, Bayanihan, the spirit of communal unity to achieve a particular objective, is still alive.

But the big question that no one seems to be asking is that after all the relief operations finish, some of the houses are rebuilt and the typhoon season temporarily ends, “What’s next?”

Contrary to the Catholic Church’s belief that the devastations caused by typhoons in the Philippines are signs of God’s wrath over the Reproductive Health Bill, it is in fact, a natural phenomena where patterns haven't significantly changed since meteorological observation started more than 200 years ago. The ferocity and frequency of weather events across the globe are increasing, a man made inevitability thanks to carbon dioxide and its heat retaining properties. Disturbingly, the summer arctic ocean is predicted to be completely ice free by 2030. Indeed just half a degree increase in sea surface temperature can help a storm gather significantly more wind strength and rainfall amounts.The increasing temperature and melting ice caps also pose another threat to countries throughout the globe, but particularly ones with large areas of coastline and an abundance of islands, making the Philippines even more susceptible than most. Sea levels have been rising by 2mm a year and the latest middle estimates predicated a 100cm increase by 2100. It was shocking to see the evidence first hand on our trip to Boracay last year when dead tree stumps could be found on the sea shore.    

Our tropical country, because of its location, is in an area where typhoons build up but it was only in the recent years where we have started to experience the wrath of them. The reasons are two pronged but couldn’t be more obvious: growing carbon emissions contributing to global warming but also the way we have fundamentally changed our landscape. A concrete landscape cannot absorb nearly as much water and neither can soil that has been stripped of its forests. Dense vegetation helps to put moisture back into the atmosphere as well as help bind the soil together which prevents sedimentary run off and ultimately landslides too. They also help absorb carbon dioxide and put oxygen back into the atmosphere. 

Then add the nations's population growth that shows no sign of slowing down; booming housing market that does not consider sustainable development alongside; industry operations lacking energy efficient saving measures; high-carbon emission cars; and cities that don’t have proper waste management implementation. It is a recipe for disaster.

“I’ve always respected those who try to change the world for the better rather than just complain about it.” — Michael Bloomberg (Autobiography, 1997)

No, I am not all talk. I actually walk the walk. I am lucky enough to live in a country where ‘Saving the Planet’ and ‘Making a Difference’ is more than a single act of goodwill but a lifestyle in itself.

We own a car with a 1.0L engine and CO₂ emission of less than 100g/km which means that we don’t have to spend a lot to fill the tank and we pay the lowest rate of Vehicle Excise Duty and. But despite that we use the public transport, a tram service run by electricity, then walk 20 minutes to get to work every day. It’s a healthier option and it cuts down the carbon emissions released in the air.

At home in Britain, we practice reduce, reuse and recycle. We reduce the amount of household wastes by bringing our own carrier bags when we go food shopping therefore not accumulating plastic bags that are usually a major source of litter. We use creativity to reuse items purchased for one reason into something else. We segregate plastics, glass, paper and bottle to be recycled. We also carefully select the chemicals in the cleaning products that we use, making sure that they are environmentally friendly and would not contribute to water pollution.

This kind of lifestyle is not cheap. On top of our personal taxes, we also pay council tax to the local authorities. We don't even earn as much money as most of our friends overseas (perhaps even some of those who live in the Philippines). But I’m sure people who reap the benefits of a cleaner environment and a better quality of life would agree with me that it is a price worth paying for. For someone who used be against socialism, Europe has taught me that there is better way than the right wing American way which is only geared towards personal, rather than community aspirations.    

Then again, I live in an already developed world. How would the country of my birth, where a quarter of its population live in poverty, be bothered about saving the planet when it can’t even feed its offspring?

I used to think the same: save humanity first then save the world. The human race requires an immediate need for food, water and homes to survive. But the world’s natural resources are finite whereas the world population will only grow in numbers. We need to find a way to meet man’s needs through renewable resources and make it our responsibility to be educated about how our actions affect the future of mankind.

As a Filipino living abroad, I couldn’t do anything more to alleviate the plight of my countrymen but I can show them that there is a better way to do things. In doing so, I can be the change that I wish to see in the world.

At the end of the day, there wouldn’t be anyone who would give me a pat in the back for a job well done but I sleep better at night knowing that because of the little things I do everyday, I would leave the world a better place.