Moves and transfers

From the time I was 16, I've been living separately from my parents. The first four years were spent in college where I endured the university men's dormitory for about a year, shared an apartment with a churchmate for one semester, and spent the rest of the time till I graduated living in a two-storey one-bedroom apartment outside the school. I would get my monthly allowance through telegraphic transfers from my parents who lived in a far north province. They expected me to make do and survive with the sum they send to cover, not just my board and lodging, but all my school and non-school-related expenses. It’s good my college undergrad was economics so I was somehow trained in allocating scarce resources to meet unlimited wants.

After college, I first stayed with a spinster aunt for a while since my paycheck wasn't anywhere near the slightest possibility that it can manage to pay for my own place. My parents probably would have wanted to help out, but I have a good feeling they opted not to --- only to make sure I wouldn’t be bubbling over too much on city life coupled with trappings of independence and an emerging active social life. I’m sure they trust me, but they weren’t at all sure if I was ready. A year later, the commute from my aunt’s place to work took its toll. I persuaded everyone that it was best to be near my workplace to save me small money and lots of unproductive time. I shared apartments initially before love came and relocated me to a three-bedroom house where we (by virtue of being a couple) occupied the biggest room while two other single friends lived in the other rooms.

I moved out of that house on the hill ten months later because of, well, a terminated contract. Everything ended with W and me. It was as if world turned upside down the next few months as it saw me renting one of the rooms in a three-room house occupied by a couple and another single guy. I stayed there close to a year at least. Since my sister wanted that time to move to Manila for work, my parents suggested if we can stay together in our own place, possibly an apartment within Makati so we won’t have a hard time adjusting to a new environment. By then, I was practically a Makati resident for at least three years.

And so my sister and I moved to this old two-bedroom apple green apartment that looked more like a misplaced building in a pretentious address. During the rainy months of July and August, there’d be times when we can’t leave the house in the morning for work because the street fronting the building would be flooded. We don’t have any other choice but to call in sick. This would happen at least twice each year. Even then, we endured and lived there for at least three years primarily because it was also near the school where I was taking my graduate studies. Come to think of it, the only good thing about the place was that it made going to school after work more bearable since home was just a few minutes away after class.

When my uncle’s family migrated to the US in 2001, they floated the idea of us staying in their house since they didn’t want to rent it out to just anyone. I was the only person allowed by my uncle to stay there in their absence. I was going to be some sort of caretaker. No rent, but I’ll pay for utilities and other expenses. It was a tempting offer. I thought I’d save up a few more bucks in exchange for putting up with Manila’s notorious traffic. The house is located in Marikina, God knows how many kilometers away from Makati where I work. I loved the place. It was a welcome relief from the daily stress from work but in a few years, we thought the costs far outweighed the benefits so we packed our bags again to live again in Makati, this time in a flood-free area complete with roving guards, stand-by utility men, and Ate Bebeng, my ever-faithful househelp.

So far we're enjoying our new home. My sister's social life, and in a way mine, are slowly breathing life again. Many things have changed. We, more or less, manage to sleep longer now and enjoy more activities than before. The only thing that has remained is this: singlehood.