QUO VADIS?

Which country would be the

best to live in at the moment? The happenings in our country truly make us ponder on living in another place where we could have peace of mind. Peace. That is reaLly very hard to find nowadays. Opening the radio, we hear of killings inside and outside the homes of victims.Turning on the TV set, we see typhoon-ravaged homes and women and children evacuees still laughing, and half-smiling at their fate. Then we go out in the streets and we find families living in carts, an infant on the sidewalk sleeping soundly while lying on a piece of cardboard, covered with a piece of cloth and the mother, cooking with firewood by the side.

Thank God we could stilL listen to DZFE and hear different genres of music, ranging from hymns spiritual and religious, jazz, symphonies, operas and even ethnic music. So not much is really dire in our country if we just use our aural sense.

But frankly speaking which continent or country would be best to live in? I told my frienc, Vicky, I would like to go to Vietnam where I could learn how to speak French. Besides, it is only a few hours away from the Philippines so that I could still see my daughter, Dadai, and her son-in-law Than, my grandchildren, Lara, Eya and Kiko at anytime if I have the moolah. Nepal is also nice because it is atop the mountains where I could meditate day in and day out with the orange-clad Buddhist monks. What about Paris? Ah, Paris, lovely indeed but too scary nowadays because the terrorists there are everywhere in Europe. You do not really know if you could be sitting on the train with a suicide bomber. Terrorists are trained how to look innocent, dedma, in our lingo so that the authorities have a difficult time knowing them. I went there sometime in 1981 and drank a bottle of beer in front of the Bastille monument on July 14, their celebrated day. I felt headylooking at all the big buildings.

It seems as if in Europe, everything is big – the tall buildings, the huge streets that can accommodate 12 cars per and the plazas, my God, you cannot go around them in 25 minutes.

But you know, the Europeans, especially the English, love their country so much. One time I went to the Regent's Park with my friend Amina and when we got home at her flat, she showed John a bunch of roses. John asked her where she got them. And she said, “Oh we picked them at the Regent's Park.” (which was just a joke, really.) “Oh, no, that's the people's park,” John said. And for him the roses have to be seen and smelled by everyone. Picking is a no-no. Of course we had a hearty laugh at that. But deep inside, I realized what a socialist John was.

Then another time, a German went to London and invited me to join the Oberhausen Film Festival and show my films there. I said “I have not enough money to get there.” And he had said that the Festival organizers would reimburse me all my expenses including travel fares. I just had to write them. I did and reached Oberhausen. He was really very proud of the Oberhausen film Festival and his country.

Then I asked him, “How do you teach students about the role of Hitler in your history?” I forget the details of his answer but he said that they do skim over that period because many of the Germans then liked him because Hitler had given them jobs. I wondered what kind of jobs?

Anyway, that is how proud they are of their country. And the greatest thing they do is to preserve their buildings, their homes that are centuries old.

But because of the cold seasons I dare not live there, unless I would have enough funds to let me live through autumn and winter where I would have need for thick coats, leggings, boots and gloves as well as heater at night. I remember one time that I would change clothes in front of my small heater inside a Victorian room with about 20 feet high ceiling and about 20 square feet of flooring. The house was located in Hampstead, a rather posh place and Jonathan, an Irish filmmaker had invited me there to live for free. Of course he was a very nice gentleman and never harassed me. Besides he had a girlfriend who dropped by his place now and then. Anyway can you imagine that that place could not be heated? That is because the house is so antiquated that the floors are no longer completely covered with wood; so much so that they have to be carpeted in order to stop the cold from entering from below. By the way, I passed by there in 1994 when the British Council here gave me a scholarship to attend the History International Conference at Portmouth University, and I saw that there was already a new building there. The Victorian house had been demolished – it was too dangerous to live there. I felt nostalgive and sat down in front of it by a fruitstand and reminisced about the days I had spent there.

I cannot live in any other place in Europe except UK or Ireland because I do not speak the other languages. I could speak a bit of French and German but not enough to conduct a conversation. Spanish si, pero no lenguaje otra.

Now I have read that New Zealand is a good place to live in, of the best places in the world. Maybe I could explore that.

Why am I thinking of other lands? During martial law, I always liked going back to our country, after reaching other countries and seeing our folks there, aside from the fact that my children live here. I had really felt that great fervor over the plight of our kababayan and how helpless they seem but somehow, I knew that the battleground to restore democracy was in our homeland. But nowadays, it seems I am inured. And as I reach the twilight years of my life, I still want to cover as much soil as I can. That was my philosophy when I left the country in 1981. Quo vadis?