I should say the past twelve years were the best years I’ve
had in my entire life. Having worked as an in-house graphic artist for two
consecutive USAID-funded government projects based in my hometown Cebu,
Philippines, I had the opportunities to travel both abroad (cities of Portland
and Tampa in the US) and locally (in the remote islands of Bohol, Palawan and Tawi-Tawi);
interacted with almost all types of personalities – from high ranking
government officials to unassuming boatmen; and the chance to bond lasting
friendships that came along the way; not to mention the good pay, and the long plane/boat/bus
rides which I truly loved!
It was a well-spent decade with ups and downs both
personally and career-wise. New and improved working techniques were all
welcome respites from our tedious and sometimes monotonous routines. Rivalries,
may they be professional or personal, were eternal components that spiced up our
environment from time to time. Relationships too, either went beyond or were
merely co-terminus with the project. Personally, I was able to meet people I
intend to be good friends with for the rest of my life. Also on the lighter
side, I somehow managed to lose weight, gained it back, and unfortunately never
lost it ever again!
Like all other special-funded projects, ours too, at some
point had to end. An ending that was rather dramatic – unresolved legitimate
employment claims that resulted to a legal encounter, of which I was a crucial part
of; and the sad, untimely death of a colleague, perhaps partly caused by too
much stress of losing one’s source of living, leaving behind a young son and a
pregnant wife.
When my contract ended, after being separated from my
longtime friends, and all legal disputes settled, it took me six months to find
a new job. It was rather hard to move forward after losing one’s comfort zone. And
if not for a friend, I probably wouldn’t be able to find a decent job sooner. Having
no choice at that moment and despite a heavy heart, I took on the job
contentedly with the hopes of starting over again. Sadly, the corporate world
turned out to be such a heartless place for somebody like me. I realized giving
up one’s bread and butter was probably better than holding onto it, and so even
with nowhere to go to, I went on and left.
Three months have passed and as fate would have it, I am
back (temporarily on a part-time basis) in the same group as I did before. No
contracts, just minimal and brief assignments. No promises, no expectations.
But I’m enjoying my short and transitory stint with them. The best part is I
get to laugh more often and loving the feel of it, again. This is probably what
I lost – and I earnestly wish to get it back.
(Entry written as an attempt to join Reader's Digest's Something I've lost and wish I could get back Writing Contest. Of course, it never made it.)
