Fly me to the moon

Fly Me to the moon,

Let me play among the stars.

Let me see what spring is like, 

on Jupiter and Mars.

In other words, hold my hand.

In other words, darling, kiss me..."

I could hear such meaningful song play from my battery-operated radio as I settle in a hammock placed just above our nipa hut's bamboo floor. Chilling in the cool breeze of summer in this provincial life. I have a dream... but it's so blurred. I don't know what I want to be. The sound of chickens eating noisily as if they're having their party and fighting for who-knows-what is destructing me in this early morning. 

I love to think about what life would be 10, 20, 30 years from now. I want to have a dream. Because we don't have much. I'm living a hard life in poverty, facing a blurry future. We don't even know what to eat tomorrow. The storms are destroying not only our food supply but also the hope of getting out of this miserable life. We live in a house that needs to be repaired from time to time because of the destructive flood, heavy wind, and rain that attacks this part of the map every monsoon.

You love to dream when you're in a desperate position. A dream to escape the reality of misery and be in a place where your problems don't exist. We dream to give us hope, to have something we want to pursue. But one of my problems is what would that dream be.

What would you think when your stomach is in pain from lack of food, and still have nothing to eat as of now... just because everything got washed out. This is the worse part of the tragedy. Not only we are almost down physically, but the fact that all our hopes could be gone with it is troubling.

Living in a dream to pursue is what gives us hope. While this could only be a simple and temporary problem to other people, this could be devastating to a 10-year-old child who knows little about life and what lies in the future that awaits him.

You start to think if storms always come the moment you start to stand up, because then you will end up knocked down, again and again... Yes, life has many kinds of storms. All differ in forms, intensity, and effects. Some cause death, scars, or disabilities, but some will make you dream of a better world. In adversity, in pain and suffering... In times of need, a seed of dream could germinate.

I look at my parents and see how hurt and tired they are. They undeniably keep their tears and pain as they look at their children with pity, fighting and pretending to be strong... dreaming that their children would have the chance to have a good life.

I look at my siblings who have not yet eaten, silently suffering in hunger. We need to decide if we will risk killing a chicken that hatches the eggs we sell or just search for young unripe bananas that we can cook and dip in salt. Just to survive for today.

It is hard to appreciate the beauty of the surroundings if your guts are full of acid that has nothing to grind or digest. But I can always see the beautiful day every time a tragic storm had passed. I indeed suppose that after each storm, the sun will come out and shine. But for now, only the moon will shine beautifully.

We have finally decided to have unripe bananas to cook instead, pretending that it is rice and add some salt for us to eat. Rather than kill a chicken and lose the opportunity to breed and sell some of their eggs. Including the young delicious native chickens bought by the rich.

That's the dilemma of the poor. You raise the best of foods for the rich, suffering, and enjoying the less in quality, keeping the defects to yourselves. That's the reason why we dream to be rich. To escape this cruel life. That's also the truth about poor countries, they raise and cultivate the best for export and sell the defective bits to the locals. Living with what other countries reject.

Our hunger and hatred of being poor make our dream of a land where these troubles and problems are absent and after minutes of thinking, I noticed the radio singing in the background once again.

"Fly Me to the moon,

Let me play among the stars.

Let me see what spring is like,

on Jupiter and Mars.

In other words, hold my hand.

In other words, darling, kiss me..."

We want to dream. We wish, we pray, but what direction should we take? What dream is enough to fly me to the moon? What is the course to take? What vehicle could bring me to the dreamland I long for and make it a reality?

I have to wake up and find myself some camote. A sweet potato we could eat for supper. Some say, "Stop daydreaming and plant some camote so you can have something you could harvest later." So that's what I'm going to do.

I wonder what life would be in the next following years after this pathetic and enduring life... How would I marry the most beautiful wife and feed my children? How could these days pass? How could I know the right steps to take so I can survive and take a break from this kind of life?

Why does life consist of riches and wealth we can accumulate? For me, as of now, I desperately need to fill my intestines and feed the striking and protesting worms in my tummy because they haven't tasted a proper meal for days...

Tears can't feed you. It can't help you forget you're hungry. You are suffering a nightmare with your eyes open in the middle of the day, and when you start feeling weak you know water can help a bit.

"Juan! Come here!" Called my mom who named me after the Super Typhoon on the 13th of October back in 2010. She ordered me to bring a note to the 'tiangge'. A small store owned by our once strict neighbor, but because we helped one of her children from nearly drowning in the flood last year, she is not that strict to us anymore. 

Still, I feel ashamed to bring the note that lists our debts because I don't know how and where my dad will find the money we would use to pay her. So I have to make my face so thick not to feel the embarrassment of what her reaction will be when she heard us loan some kilos of rice, canned sardines, and 'Odong', yellow-colored noodles.

 But she wasn't mad. Is it luck that she's currently in a good mood, or is it an answer to my prayer, my cry for her to be kind to me. I don't care if we can't have a good supper, what I care about right now is that I will be ashamed in front of the other people who are standing out the store with me... an addition to the list of injuries and insults of being so poor. The feeling is enough to make me swear the words 'I must get out from this misery'.

After going through such a thing, I still couldn't help noticing how great the moon looks like on my way back home... It seems so impossible to fly towards something so beautiful, but...

 How can I not dream of something this impossible?