wanderwoman (no more)

(The Art'cle Formerly Known As 'Now It Can Be TOLD!!!')


If half a decade ago someone had said to me I'd be living overseas now residing in a flatshare with two testosterone-y housemates who are a decibel short of being sex offenders, I'd be the first to laugh and shake my head in consternation. Truly, the maddening suggestion is out of the effin world. Yet here I am, sitting in Costa Coffee, sipping a skinny latte whilst reading a book, thinking of that almond biscotti I have become accustomed to dipping into my one-and-only caffeine fill on Saturdays. My regular lack of sleep I owe to 2 sets of vampiric sex addicts who are at it at the ungodliest hours of dawn. This is the 'peep show' that is giving me nightmares that I reach for my set of earphones (Godsend!!!) which have become my instant bedmate.


Taking a break as it is a weekend, lost in pensive thoughts and festive in the pleasure of my own company (and with no alter egos in sight!), today I am wondering about the wandering woman-child I was when I landed a year ago. She now seems to have been replaced by a more self-assured woman(-child?) who, still & all, has an endless array of questions and a long, long way to go. But she does have some answers in check. And for the moment, she's good. Chillaxed.


Time has flown rather quickly when I was having London-lllllooooooovin' fun and slowly in the less-than pleasant circumstances. Ahhh such is life! It is as twisty as it is tastefully tainted with the mundane assurances that in it there ain't that many certainties.


I do remember just being overwhelmed by the stark novelty of independent living for the first time. Not everyone gets this and certainly not everyone wants it. A virginal financial derelict. The wuss I was's... no wuss no more! (Suss dat.)

。。。The first time I went househunting and found a shithole that reeked and looked like it still had Jack the Ripper's remains in there somewhere... I recall literally running into the arms of my friend Cin crying about the dastard who showed me a windowless room in the basement and charged 450pcm without batting an eyelash.

。。。So many new concepts became everyday conversation pieces. How was it possible that I am, in one continent, Asian, but here in the UK I am 'properly' called Oriental? My colleague Adele still laughs when I say chips for crisps, and fries for chips. "What are you like Sadrina?" (Truth be told Adele, you've no idea what I'm like...he he he!)

。。。The simple wonders of Brit wordplay will never be lost to me. The Bard and Austen remain dream reads. Like a child left inside a candy store for the first time. The grammar police disappeared and came back a constable in wordy fashion! But in the same breath Brit soaps...ahh the sadness of it all is an idea for immediate airtime recycling.

。。。my eternal obsession (no worries, nothing sexual!) with the tube that became my playground for people-watching. The nightbus I avoid for the infamous real time action that goes on when I choose to indulge in drinking sprees with friends.

。。。I'd say LondonTown found me traipsing in my own reality, dancing in my own rhythmn (blame it on the earphone addiction!!!) the wanna-be-sumkinduva-survivor-superpower in a maelstrom of Tsinayderring-do(?) craziness. That said, my Marco-proof advert for a look-out doubling as a mascot remains unfilled. Must be a polyglot who in some form or other resembles Mr. Clooney! (Riiiiiiiiight.)

My all-time fave colleague Lucy asked me yesterday how I liked Londres now. Hmmm...there are always conflicting arguments to everything. Like it--in terms of? Compared to? What's to like? What's not to like? I realized lately how being away from home means that any place you live in, wherever you are on this bloomin' planet, the moment you're hit with the "You're not on vacation!" mental signage, then it's all the same thing. Same-difference. The more you see, the less surprised you are. And the sooner you realize this, the quicker everything falls into place. It isn't rocket science. But it isn't a simple case of "Ok. Fine. Whatever." either.

Now it can be told-

That I checked my naivete at the warpath and was humble enough to know I didn't know shit... and that set me off onto the path to righteousness. I knew that I had to start somewhere betwixt scum and struggling. Yet somewhere over the transatlantic friendly skies, I decided that this was IT. My second lease on life. My second chance. The one I begged my mom for (yes now it can be told: Leos don't beg, it isn't in our nature...). I got it and I wasn't going to waste it. I was going to do it all by myself and everything in my power to get a shiny SURVIVAL seal with my name on it. Tabula rasa rebooted its system and started a year ago for me. One of the special exceptions. I assure you that I had suffered more than most so I think the entitlement is but fair. I was going to hold on to independence. Hold on and hold fast and never let it slide past my sight. I'm holding on to it a tad tighter with less trepidation.


And now it can be told that 10 days before Christmas 2007, I had 30 quid in my bank account. In the Natwest vestibule, I gave a small, "Gulp!" There it was staring right back at me- '32. 13' to be exact. As in rounded off, three-oh... as in 60 dollars, or about 3000 Pinoy Pesos... a considerable lot...if you were in Pinas. In Londres, 30 quid goes before it comes. I kid you not. That Thursday afternoon I came home panic-stricken and seriously contemplated doing an E.T. phone home to my mom... to tell her I needed moolah. I did it countless times in Pinas and I could do it this one time...right?

But I didn't.

Mobile phone in one hand, my sanity in the other. How far could I go??? I took a long hard look at myself and my life in Londres. Everything I had to my name was in a sunny room in the midst of Fulham. What of it was surprising? Nobody said starting over was easy. I was in a foreign country, it was the Christmas holidays, and I was right smack in the middle of nowhere, deathly homesick and dying of emotional distress.

This never happened to me before...certainly not on Christmas. My memories of Christmas in Pinas were always red and cheery...and warm and filled with festivity. My life up until Londres had been a picture book with all the wonderful colours and the perfectly pasted accoutrements.

Now I was in a country that had no warmth, no sun and no family. The irony of it all made me want to laugh because I didn't want to cry. I wanted this??? Append to that that I was working a sh*t temp job...and payday was a effin' stretch of a week away. I could graze the 30 quid and get by on Tesco tomato soup. But I still needed bus fare that came to 16.20 [Z1/Z2 Weekly Travelcare]. All I could do was take deep breaths and say, "Why are you doing this to yourself Sadrina..." And since I had no answers, I simply chucked it to my already voluminous character building rulebook.

Despite all my friends egging me to phone the only reliable financial helpdesk that would instigate a money transfer (and the service will be free of charge and done with a smile!) in 5 minutes. Yet now it can be told. I do not regret NOT making the phonecall to my mom because I realized what survival meant that fateful day in December. I always wanted to see if I could do it by myself. And that cold, lonely 30-quid December day I realized that I could. True it was less than ideal. But I could. I knew I didn't want family or relatives close by (Thus Londres and not U.S.) and I wouldn't stay with friends, so certainly was not dependent on anyone. It was hard but it was what I wanted. I wasn't rich but I wasn't in London to be rich, was i?


Now it can be told- I was here to exile myself in solitude and deal with all my inner demons and give my soul a good spanking.

And after a year of self-spanking, I am happy to report that I have more than 30 quid in my bank account. [Having said that, I'm saving...period. Nothing more Tsinoy than the trait of thrift.] I work for a good employer and I'm a good employee who gets on with an intercontinental team I have a fine time with. In and out exchanges and office banter are reasonably anecdotal , there is camaraderie and some laughter interspersed in between. There is also arguing and pointing out...just the general accountability and what-not of working in an office that reads like a Benetton advert. It is a happy medium.

You shape your life into what you think counts. My life is no means idyllic at this stage, but my perspective of it has grown in leaps and bounds. I realize through the year-long masochistic exercise that you don't learn till you suffer some. You don't know how good you had it till you got how bad it could be. I faced the bad days as well. I was always well-oiled with perspective and the adage "this too shall pass!" does wonders to my psyche.


The cool Beatle with his long hair and Orientalia fascination was spot-on when he said, "Life is what happens to you when you're too busy making other plans." I've come to the realization that the noteworthy changes in life happen when we're not looking.

The subtle paradox of my life, albeit amorphous at first, slowly solidified right before my eyes and teemed with His obvious (to me at least) hand print. Like in the movie "You've Got Mail," when Katherine meets Joe F-O-X in the end. You know she's meeting the Mr. Right whom she's met a million times before. But despite knowing, your heart gives a jump of glee. The casual "Oh, there you are..." stance she takes when she says ever so wistfully, "I wanted it to be you..." Ever so subtly, it just all came together. In the end. Life came together for me in that similar unsuspecting fashion. Thinking back now, I can't say how. I didn't really get into the razzmatazz details of it all by sitting on a cafe with a checklist (my talent for organization is a creative work in progress!!), but I firmly fixated on the thought that it would all eventually come together for ME. Everything happens for the good of those who believe.


My sabbatical quickly comes to a close. Crunch time comes hither. I can't wait!!!


A year after, I wander no more and see for the first time with different eyes. I'm beginning to see the limitless possibilities of life again. And the richness of experience to back up all that I dream of achieving. I needed the year that was to resit life and iron out all the inconsistencies. Now everything is shiny like new and I see the vast beauty of the years to come. I chucked the remnants of recalcitrance as my psyche needed less of that- What is essential maybe invisible to the eye, but it takes up naked creative space as well. Good chi takes up a great deal of my space. And I welcome it with open arms.

True... nothing comes easy but the defining moments of life, living and the lot isn't when it's clear cut, is it? It's when push comes to shove that you can easily miss what you mustn't! Life is teaching you a hard lesson that you will be able to build on in years to come. It never goes out of its way to announce itself and comes with no trimmings, but should you recognize it at half-step, then hold fast because the significance will far outweigh its unsuspecting arrival. It is the quiet storm that breaks the calm. And will be a breakthrough in hindsight. Your mission is to chose to accept and embrace it when it comes. It is easier said than done. But when done with regularity, life's wisdom nuggets become quite easy to spot.

It's like that. And that's the way it is.