Outside
our modest apartment in Manila, I observed a rather unusual scene:
five men armed with sticks standing in the street. As I watched them,
a cascade of thoughts flooded my mind, prompting me to reflect deeply
on how I had arrived at this particular moment in my life and what
sequence of events had led me here. It all seemed to originate from a
distant past, back in the small, quiet country town of Jerilderie,
nestled in the Australian outback near the Victorian border—a
place renowned for its rich history and infamous for its association
with the legendary bushranger Ned Kelly. Jerilderie holds a special
place in Australian folklore, being the site where Kelly famously
robbed the telegram office and, more notably, where he penned the
legendary Jerilderie Letter—a document that has become a symbol
of rebellion and storytelling in Australian history.
My
journey to this point began when I decided to relocate to Jerilderie,
seeking refuge from the ongoing pandemic and a tranquil environment
to relax amidst my ongoing university studies. I had long been
planning an overseas trip, a much-anticipated escape that I hoped
would serve as a refreshment for both my mind and spirit, preparing
me for future academic pursuits and professional endeavors. The
destination I had chosen was the Philippines—a place I had
always yearned to visit for its vibrant culture, warm climate, and
welcoming people. This trip represented a long-awaited opportunity
for a significant break—a chance to rejuvenate before diving
back into the demanding world of studies and work.
I
vividly remember sitting by the serene waters of Jerilderie Lake,
contemplating the details of my upcoming journey. I was meticulously
ensuring I hadn’t forgotten any essentials—passport,
tickets, toiletries—while observing the tiny ants crawling out
of the ground, their tiny bodies seemingly emerging from the earth
itself. It appeared as if the ground was emitting fumes of gas or
some invisible force, only to reveal, upon closer inspection, that it
was the ants themselves, instinctively emerging and taking flight
into the open sky. The scene was almost surreal, as if nature itself
was unveiling a secret spectacle before my eyes.
On
the day I was to depart for Melbourne, I had to rise before the crack
of dawn, around 3:30 am, to begin my long travel day. I packed my
belongings carefully into my travel bag and dragged it all the way
through the quiet town to the local bus stop. There, I waited in
anticipation for the VLine bus scheduled to depart at 5 am, bound for
Melbourne. The journey to the airport was smooth, and upon arrival at
Melbourne Airport, I found the accommodation arrangements quite
convenient. I stayed at a small motel situated directly opposite the
departures area, connected by a simple, overhead bridge—an
arrangement I highly recommend to fellow travelers for its ease and
comfort. Traveling, I believe, is an experience everyone should
undertake; it broadens horizons and enriches understanding of
different cultures and environments.
My
flight on Philippine Airlines was a memorable experience. As we
prepared for takeoff, the pilot’s voice crackled through the
cabin, announcing our imminent departure. The aircraft powered up,
and we ascended into the sky, leaving behind the familiar landscape
of Australia. During the flight, a travel tracker displayed our
progress, showing the distance remaining to our destination. The
cabin crew served hot meals, and I was delighted to receive a refill
of freshly brewed coffee, which kept me alert and comfortable
throughout the journey. When we finally arrived in Manila, the scene
outside the window was strikingly different from what I was used to.
The clouds above had a peculiar pink hue, reminiscent of cotton
candy—like the sweet treat served at circuses—adding a
whimsical touch to the city’s skyline.
Stepping
off the plane, I found myself immersed in the bustling streets of
downtown Manila. The air was thick with a mix of scents—spicy,
sweet, and unfamiliar—and the sounds of the city’s
vibrant life buzzed all around me. The language was one I was just
beginning to familiarize myself with, a complex tapestry of sounds
that felt both exciting and intimidating. My first night in central
Manila was marked by a cacophony of drums pounding until well past 1
am, echoing through the city streets and adding to the city’s
lively, unrelenting energy. The weather was markedly different from
the dry, cool climate of Jerilderie; the humidity was intense, and I
found myself drinking copious amounts of water just to stay hydrated.
Transitioning
from my quiet Australian country town—home to only about a
thousand residents—to this sprawling metropolis with millions
of inhabitants was a stark contrast. The sheer density of people and
constant activity was overwhelming at first. Privacy, which I once
took for granted, was scarce, and I struggled to adjust to the
relentless proximity of strangers. The sense of personal space was
diminished, and I had to adapt to the city’s unending hum of
life.
Now,
returning to the incident I initially mentioned—just after I
had finished my bath, which I usually performed with a bucket and
scoop due to the lack of modern plumbing—I was startled by an
ominous knocking at the door. At the time, neighbors had been
complaining about us making too much noise, especially when walking
on the creaky floors of our apartment, which was essentially a
labyrinth of interconnected rooms with no windows or fresh air,
feeling more like a rabbit’s warren than a comfortable living
space. My experiences with Australian landlords were often
frustrating, but dealing with landlords in Manila proved to be an
entirely different ordeal. Our living conditions were marred by
issues such as mold growth—stemming from the absence of a
proper drying area for clothes—and a cockroach infestation,
which had worsened due to a local garbage collectors’ strike,
leading to unsanitary conditions.
It
was at this moment, around 11 pm, that I was summoned outside by a
group of men wielding sticks. They were standing in front of the
building, and their presence was intimidating. My girlfriend,
concerned, asked me to retrieve her mobile phone, and I hesitantly
followed her out into the street. I even left the fan on back in the
apartment—an unusual move for me, as I typically turn it off
when switching rooms to conserve electricity. There were roughly ten
men with sticks gathered in front of a desk, and neighbors with their
families had also gathered, watching the scene unfold. I couldn’t
understand what was being said, as the language was unfamiliar, but
the tension was palpable. My girlfriend and a woman from upstairs
began shouting at each other, voices rising in anger. The head of the
local council, standing behind the desk, sternly addressed both
women, but no one appeared to ask for my opinion or consider my
presence.
Amidst
the chaos, an older man looked at me reassuringly, whispering that I
shouldn’t worry and that the situation wouldn’t take long
to resolve. My girlfriend grew more aggressive, shouting and fighting
with the other woman. Suddenly, one of the men stepped forward and
gently but firmly guided my girlfriend away from the altercation. I
instinctively moved to stand between him and her, fearing he might
harm her. He then instructed me to take her back to the apartment,
but I refused, telling him never to touch me. His eyes met mine with
a gaze I could neither decipher nor interpret—an unreadable
expression that left me unsettled. Meanwhile, a large crowd had
gathered in the surrounding street, their eyes fixed on us, watching
the unfolding scene with curiosity and concern.
At
that moment, I was wearing pajamas, having just prepared for bed, and
the entire incident struck me as a stark reminder of the harsh
realities of life in a foreign country. It made me reflect on the
notion that one can rarely have everything—"your cake and
eat it too." The cost of living in Manila, while manageable
because of the affordability of food and accommodations, is not
without its challenges. Issues such as cockroach outbreaks, plumbing
problems, and pervasive corruption scandals significantly impact
daily life. Were these problems addressed comprehensively, the cost
of living might inevitably rise, altering the delicate balance that
currently exists.
My
journey—from the tranquil, historic town of Jerilderie to the
bustling streets of Manila—has been filled with moments of awe,
frustration, and reflection. The scene outside my apartment with men
holding sticks is just one chapter in this ongoing story—a
story of adaptation, resilience, and the complex tapestry of life in
a foreign land.
*****
My
name is Troy Watson, and I am passionate about the art of
storytelling through both fiction and non-fiction writing. I find
great fulfillment in crafting narratives that explore the depths of
human experience, as well as in articulating ideas and insights
through factual accounts.
Academically,
I pursued my studies in Psychology at Charles Sturt University,
located in the picturesque rural regions of New South Wales,
Australia. This educational background has provided me with a
profound understanding of human behavior and mental processes, which
often informs and enriches my writing. In addition to my
undergraduate studies, I hold a Master’s degree in Information
Technology, a field that has cultivated my keen interest in
technology, innovation, and the rapidly evolving digital
landscape.
Growing
up in Dubbo New South Wales, I was immersed in a community that
actively embraces and fosters business and cultural exchanges with
surrounding regions, particularly within the broader Asian area. This
upbringing sparked my curiosity about the languages, cultures, and
traditions of the diverse countries in this vibrant region. I have
developed a genuine fascination with their customs, languages, and
societal dynamics, which continues to influence my worldview and
creative pursuits. In
terms of my literary influences, I draw inspiration from an eclectic
array of authors, including Friedrich Nietzsche, Honoré de
Balzac, Maxim Gorky, Sir Walter Scott, and Jack London. Their diverse
styles and thematic explorations have significantly shaped my own
approach to writing. One of my all-time favorite works is Jack
London’s novel The Iron Heel, which I admire for its powerful
social commentary and compelling narrative.
Overall,
I am deeply committed to exploring the intricacies of human nature,
culture, and societal change through my writing, continually seeking
to broaden my understanding and craft stories that resonate with
readers on a meaningful level.
