Simple life a long time ago

Took a sentimental journey to the old village more than 60 years ago from two recent issues: A story on green living on Rota and lifestyle decisions articulated by Frank R. Agulto. Growing up as woefully poor kids granted us a unique perspective about simple life then.

There’s the couple who hailed from a far away land showing the benefits in the use of the natural environment for their livelihood. It included harnessing the sea breeze, gardening in fertile land, building water catchment, raising animals in the backyard and use of alternative energy.

Frank brought us to our senses that we need not chase unreachable aspirations riddled with uncertainty. We’ve lived a simple island lifestyle since time immemorial. We’ve lived it but slowly parted with it in search of a certain dream so distant from the reality of island setting even for 99 percent of folks across the country.

After Supertyphoon Jean in 1968, there was the rush to build cement houses for safety reasons. There was no time to think through a practical architectural design for the tropics. At day’s end we found that we’ve literally built huge ovens that require powerful air-conditioning units to cool it down. Traditional family houses known as “sadegani’ or “siguale” would have worked. The former is built with roofing sunk in the dirt, the latter covered with marshland reed (roofing) designed for fresh air. We trashed both.

The old house (built after the war) had large windows and screens in the frame to ward off mosquitoes. The breeze blows through the house daily. How pleasant it was hearing the rhythm of the rain as it dances on tin roof or peeping out into a clear starry night as your eyes are slowly shut by the twinkles at a distance. The crowing rooster serves as our clock at the first crack of dawn.

The old farm was the epicenter of family activity. We cleared, uprooted, and cultivated the land from dawn to dusk for family sustenance. Otherwise we’d go coconut crab hunting in dense jungles or follow master fishermen just to get our share of protein from the sea. Those were the “Hard Days Nights” of the late ’50s and ’60s. It was communal living at its best with simplicity.

Today, kids work with their iPads, Kindles, iPhones conversing, texting, downloading games and movies. They have become heirs to the couch-potato culture as they develop dangerous and fatal non-communicable illnesses like high blood pressure, serious cardiovascular issues and diabetes. We pile bad health habits adopting the couch-potato culture. Over time, a lot of the local folks contracted Type II diabetes that fast tracks kidney failure and dialysis treatment. Throw in serious heart problems to complete our perennial health list.

We certainly can make a difference changing into a simpler lifestyle. But it takes personal resolve and a unified decision by the three people we know best—Me, Myself and I—to shift gear. If the three guys could take the first step together, we could realistically make amends to lighten our health and financial burdens.

The simpler ways isn’t difficult. Even the couple from Germany has proven that what was ours a long time ago still works. Let’s reset our buttons and revisit what’s ours since yester-years.

Kids would take up menial jobs to meet incidental needs. Yep! If you had money, buying a cup of ice or donut is sufficient signal you’re making it!

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We didn’t have restrooms but outhouses that send you back to the shower room to get rid of the combined fatal deodorant of old diesel and stench from a nearby pigpen.

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No hair spray then but we had Japanese pomade we plaster on our head to form the Elvis Presley curl locks upstairs.

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Those were the days when girls dump guys who didn’t have Beatles’ boots—you know, wearing the latest fad. You get hit with double jeopardy—a broken heart while still bootless.

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There was no TV then and a single movie house in CK. We wait for the guys to come out so they could tell us what the starring did. We repeat the story elsewhere as though we watched the flick ourselves.

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We’d go swimming at Sugar Dock rather than attend catechism class. We thought we could outsmart mom. Nah! She touches our salty forehead and sends us into heavy anxiety land. I don’t mind the belt but I hate the speech that precedes it.

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We all learned how tasty food is at the old farm than at home. Well, we slaved through rows of plants moving our entire body. You’re drained by 10am as the sun or mercury level increases. By then, you’d swallow up anything to regain your strength.

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You learn to do Olympic style running as you head to church in the morning, tip-toeing so you don’t wake up the neighborhood dogs. If he sniffs you, you’re off to the races at dawn.

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Tried reconciling the “what might have been” had we done something right versus the “what it has been.” We continue to sink in the tsunami of bankruptcy. I think the simpler term is “broke”! Sad, the lights are on but nobody’s home. Hello?

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Remember the nursery rhyme Long Ago? Gone, huh? Ever wonder why the lack of conscious leadership and equilibrium to restore the buying power of taxpayers reduced by over 100 percent this year? Conscious leadership is a scarcity, di ba?