Tradeoffs: Or How to Go to Europe on a Normal Person’s Salary

This was my birthday essay in 2015. It was previously published in another platform, which has since disappeared. Republishing it here now.

Walking the streets of Pisa

While stuck in Amsterdam after missing a connecting flight last month, I struck up a conversation with a British guy in the hotel’s restaurant. He was in his mid-20s and a businessman on his way to Stockholm. He asked what I did and I told him I write for a magazine in Manila.

“Must be a good gig,” he said. “Get to travel a lot?”

“I suppose, yeah,” I answered. “More than the usual, I guess.” I then proceeded to tell him about this most recent trip, which was actually a vacation, although I snuck in a work visit to Maranello in Italy, hometown of Ferrari, where I got to drive one of the cars out for a few hours in the hilly roads outside of town.

As soon as the words were out of my mouth I instantly regretted it. Not a lot of people can say “I drove a Ferrari in Maranello” without sounding like an obnoxious show-off. The guy must’ve thought it, too, because after that he hardly said anything else and excused himself soon after.

I thought about the conversation later that evening. Not a lot of people can truthfully say that sentence, period. Is it insufferable and conceited? Perhaps. But is it factual? It certainly is. That’s when I realized that, while I had to be careful about coming off as a stuck-up douche when I tell people about it in the future, it is a story I would get to tell and a wonderful experience I could relive over and over again for the rest of my life. So I shouldn’t regret saying it. The fact that it might sound irritatingly pompous doesn’t make it any less true.

The best day

No, this isn’t a humble-brag entry. It’s not a way to casually hint about the Europe trip or the drive in the nice car. I’m writing this to explain to people how I’m able to say all those nice things truthfully. While it probably isn’t such a big deal for the handful of people on this side of the planet who treat Europe as if it was Baclaran or Baguio, for the vast majority of Filipinos, a trip anywhere outside the country, especially to all the big touristy places like Paris, Rome or London, is probably a dream as seemingly unreachable as buying their own home, driving their own car or finding their soul mate. People have told me how lucky I am that I get to go on these trips, and they ask me how I do it. Sometimes, yes, luck has a lot to do with it (i.e. official work trips), but as with most things in life, it’s not quite that simple.

First though, I need to debunk some people’s notion that I’m able to do all of these things because I’m rich. I’ve said before that I come from a very simple family. My parents are both retired and, save for the occasional Sunday lunches when I drive to our home in Cavite, I’ve been on my own and self-sufficient since I was 19, when I graduated college, moved out and got a job. So no, I’m not lucky enough to get travel allowance from the folks for those jaunts in Europe, or for anything else for that matter.

Early morning stroll in Nice, France

I also don’t fatten up my wallet with my working person’s salary, either. Again, I make a living writing for a magazine. In the Philippines, unless you’re a broadcast news anchor or a popular on-cam talent, being on the payroll of a media outift isn’t exactly the way to go if you’re looking for travel-the-world money. I earn just enough to get by and if anybody had the misfortune of getting a peek at my bank account, they would probably laugh in my face and tell me, “That’s it?!”

So how’d I do it? How can I afford a two-week trip to Europe on a normal-person’s wages? Here’s the answer:

It’s all about tradeoffs.

I’m 35 years old (36 tomorrow) and single. I live in a modest apartment in Quezon City, the same one I’ve lived in for the past six years, and I still drive the same beat-up old Lancer. I don’t have the financial responsibilities that many of my classmates (from all periods of my academic life) now have – home and car payments, and providing for miniature versions of themselves. Because of that, I have the luxury to choose what to spend my money on. And it just happens that I choose to save up for plane tickets and train rides and museum entrance fees.

Overlooking the rooftops of Rome

The tradeoff there is obvious. People in my social network are posting pictures of their new cars, updates about the progress of the construction of their homes, their babies’ first smile captured on camera, you get the idea. I don’t have all that. I don’t get to go home to a family of my own, kids running to embrace me and smother me with kisses; I constantly have to worry about my old car suddenly giving up on me while cruising EDSA; and I don’t have the privilege of ticking the “Yes” box when I’m filling out an official form with the question “Are you a homeowner?”

Sometimes the worry keeps me up at night. Every time I see one of those listicles with a title like, “10 Things You Should Already Have By The Time You’re 30,” or “15 Things You Need To Accomplish Before You’re 35,” I recoil. Always they have some entry about how you’re supposed to be financially secure (as in, what-if-you-lost-your-job-tomorrow secure) at a certain age. I admit doubts, and sometimes question my life decisions. Shouldn’t I have invested the extra money on property or stocks? Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to fly to Singapore to watch a concert by that artist that I like; I could’ve used the cash to add to a downpayment on a newer car. So-and-so was right; if I started saving when I was 20, I’d probably be able to afford that condo in BGC by now.

But is that what I really want?

True, I’m awestruck at the variety of things people in my circle (or social media newsfeed) are into. Designer cuisine, Duterte, the Porsche 911, Mariah Carey, Mario Kart, Slade House, Turkey, yoga, Palace Pool Club, Miss Universe, Game Of Thrones, surfing (actual and online), CoverGirl’s Star Wars collection, the conflict in Syria and the refugee crisis in Europe, facial hair, inspirational quotes, rainbow cakes, the LA Lakers, vinyl records, and on and on and on. I’m fortunate that I can see the world through the eyes of people from different corners of the globe and from virtually all social classes, age groups, genders, and religious and political beliefs. I think this makes for a much more interesting world view.

Cold day in Budapest

In the end though, I have to come back to my own decisions and live with them because I made them myself. The only person who has to deal with the consequences is me (for now, at least). Delayed gratification may be the definition of maturity, but exchanging one thing in favor of something more desirable is the essence of self-determination. That’s the tradeoff.

And it’s not just in material things. Tradeoffs can involve prioritizing one task at work over another; subscribing to one fitness and lifestyle routine over another; or choosing to spend time with one group of people over another in the belief they will add more value to your life through good experiences instead of taking away from it with meaningless drivel. We all forge our own paths and along the way, we make choices that we think will bring us closer to being happy. And isn’t that what we’re on this earth for? The pursuit of happiness?  

In other words, the stuff we deem important ultimately defines where we’re headed.

So when people post pictures of their new gadgets or the latest designer handbag on Facebook, I can only trade them a story about the time I almost froze my fingers off as I tried to take a picture of Castle Hill from the Chain Bridge in Budapest. I can only salivate over that new pair of kicks because I can’t justify buying new shoes that cost more than two night’s stay in a nice hotel in Rome. And when a stranger starts talking about business opportunities in Scandinavia, I’ll try my very best not to sound like a complete douche when I tell him about that time I drove a Ferrari California T in the snowy hills outside Maranello. Because damn that was hella fun.

Hanging out in one of the towns of Cinqueterre (forgot which one)

Who I Am: 40 Things About Me

Me on the 500 Days of Summer bench in LA

Another trip around the sun. I’ve been writing these birthday essays for a few years now, but this one is extra special because, well, people say it’s a milestone. I’m not going to deny that it stings a little now that I might have to check a different box on forms, but I guess I’ve had years to prep for it, so it’s not like I didn’t know what was coming.

I’m not going to extol the supposed virtues of aging (especially in a society that values youth as much ours does), but I am celebrating having reached an age in relative good health, with family and a small group of friends that I love dearly, and doing something I love as a profession. That might be insignificant for some people, but to me, those are pretty huge wins.

Candy store in Monterey's Fisherman's Wharf

They say that at this age, you’ve already become the person that you’re supposed to be. In that spirit, I’ve decided to list down some things about me to try and figure out if this person is somebody I like.

Not to be a complete narcissist, but I think I turned out okay.

1. I like the window seat not just because I get the view, but because I get to have a headrest when I inevitably drift off during the flight. (Plus, I rarely ever need to go to the bathroom anyway, except when it’s a long-haul, of course).

2. My favorite time of of the week is Sunday afternoons, specifically at 2:30pm. I don’t know why exactly, but maybe it’s because I like the idea of having a whole stretch of day left to do stuff and not worry so much about the horrors that await come Monday. (That said, I don’t dislike Mondays).

3. I like eating dark chocolate (60% to 70% is ideal) with cold water.

Somewhere along the Pacific Coast Highway

4. I’m not very adventurous when it comes to food and will typically order the same thing on the menu every time. I’m very impressionable though, and will usually cave given the right amount of cajoling.

5. I generally dislike confrontation and will often back down from any sort of argument. Often I feel that expending energy over a dispute just isn’t worth it, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stand up and fight if I feel strongly enough about something.

6. Nothing calms me down and puts a smile on my face faster than seeing my dogs eating and stretching.

7. I can watch Dead Poets Society, Reality Bites, and the Before trilogy (Sunrise, Sunset, Midnight) over and over and over again. That all of these films star Ethan Hawke naturally means he’s my favorite actor. Throw Gattaca and Boyhood in there, why not?

8. I would often lurk on social media and find myself silently passing judgment on people, but I quickly stop myself because, well, it’s other people. If we all liked the same things and agree and disagree about the same things, the world would be boring AF. So I just let it go and scroll right on by. The way I see it is, I get to know a bit more about the person, and I don’t have to engage, which is a complete waste of time anyway. (Some would argue that social media itself is a waste of time, but that’s another story).

Santa Monica Pier

9. On long road trips, I will always volunteer to drive.

10. French fries and chips aside, I can’t eat with my hands. I mean, I probably could, but if I can help it, I’d rather not. I dislike the feeling of greasy and smelly hands.

11. When attending events and other social functions, I’d like to think I’m friendly and outgoing and have no problem talking to people. If I clam up and seem distant or aloof, it’s probably because I’m intimidated and I’m afraid I’ll say the wrong thing and have the other person think I’m an idiot.

12. I like nature but have trouble with creepy, crawly insects and sea creatures. I am deathly afraid of spiders.

Posing in LACMA

13. I cry at movies, TV shows, songs, and books. Sometimes pretty easily. A sampling: when Ross and Rachel break-up (the first time), when Monica proposes to Chandler, and when Phoebe gets married on FRIENDS; when the kid runs through the airport to see his classmate before she flies off in Love Actually; when Aragorn tells Frodo and the other hobbits, "My friends, you bow to no one" in The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King; listening to “It Means Nothing” by Stereophonics, “World Spins Madly On” by The Weepies, and “God Only Knows” by The Beach Boys; when the two main characters finally meet and share a tin can of peaches in the novel All The Light We Cannot See.

14. I like rockeoke more than videoke.

15. I think issues like global warming and climate change are scary, and feel that powerful people and institutions—those that can actually make a difference—aren’t doing enough about them.

16. I like reading the Wikipedia pages about World War 2, specifically the European theater, and how and why some countries chose and were allowed to remain neutral.

17. I don’t think I can ever be friends with anyone who chooses Leno over Letterman. But Conan will always be god to me.

LA sunset

18. I like plays more than musicals but like listening to music more than listening to podcasts.

19. I graduated college when I was 19. That was also the year I found the first white hair on my head. I’ve been on my own since I was 21.

20. Not being politically engaged online doesn’t mean I’m apolitical. It just means I’d rather not engage with others online about politics.

21. My favorite cartoon TV series growing up was Visionaries: Knights of the Magical Light. And my favorite character was Witterquick.

Singing while driving through the desert from LA to Las Vegas

22. I’ve won a FRIENDS-themed bar trivia night. Okay, I was with two other people in the team, but you get what I’m trying to say. That’s how much I love the show.

23. Once I traveled alone by train from Singapore to Bangkok. It took almost two days. It was fun, looking back at it now. But I probably won’t do it again.

24. My favorite modern author is David Mitchell, and his Cloud Atlas is one of my favorite books.

25. The oldest thing in my room is a wooden wall sign with my name on it that I got from Tokyo Disneyland when I was 12 years old.

Walking along the Las Vegas strip 

26. I used to commute from our old house in Pasay to UP Diliman every day. The longest it took me to get home was five hours. It was right around the time the MRT was being built.

27. As a kid, I read this book about real life mysteries and there was an entry about Thuggee, or the acts of gangs of thieves and murderers who lived in India. They supposedly targeted travelers and killed them by strangling them with rope or handkerchiefs. I remember there was an illustration in the book of one of the “thugs” strangling his victim. That terrified me for years. I still think about it today and is one of the reasons why I have reservations about traveling to India.

28. One of my useless talents is that I can recite the alphabet backwards.

29. My most memorable interviews would have to be Liam Gallagher, former Batangas Governor Tony Leviste, Injap Sia, former Senator Gringo Honasan, and Eric Bana.

30. I took French classes at Alliance Française de Manille in addition to nine units of it in college as an elective. I can still only say, “Yes, I can speak a little French because the language is very hard.”

No filter shot of an American highway

31. I believe what Metro Manila needs (besides an effective plan to address traffic) is more parks and green spaces.

32. I once learned how to play Gin Blossoms’ “As Long As It Matters” on the guitar. I can’t play it anymore.

33. I’ve seen John Mayer live three times, Damien Rice twice, Jason Mraz seven times, and U2 twice. The only major acts on my concert bucket list are Dave Matthews Band, Pete Yorn, and Arctic Monkeys.

34. My favorite reality TV show is The Amazing Race. I will be extremely sad if it ever gets cancelled.

Bucket list check: the Grand Canyon

35. The scariest book I’ve ever read as a kid was Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None (which is also known as Ten Little Indians). I read it in high school and got so terrified I couldn’t sleep that night and needed my mom to comfort me.

36. I like buying souvenirs when I travel for the people I care about.

37. I once spent the night at the Shangri-La Hotel in Paris and drove a Ferrari in its birthplace of Maranello (at two different times, of course). Those were the best night and day of my life.

38. One of my favorite memories growing up is my aunt taking me and my siblings to eat at Jollibee every Sunday for lunch and then buying us books at National Book Store.  

Dali's The Persistence of Memory at MOMA New York

39. I can’t wear flip-flops with jeans. I mean I probably could, but I’d rather not.

40. It’s not perfect, but, just between you and me, I think I’ve lived a pretty awesome life. If everything ended tomorrow, I’d be pretty okay with where life has taken me. I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

Just me resting after a nine-hour drive

Read my birthday essay from 2014
Here's the one from 2015
The one from 2016
From 2017
And from 2018 

Back To You

Cambugahay Falls, Siquijor

I’m in my hotel room in Siquijor. It’s the end of a very long day that started at 4:30am. We flew to Dumaguete City, rode an excruciatingly slow yacht, and spent the rest of the day on a drive around this island known for supposed sorcery and mysticism.

When I wasn’t preoccupied with work stuff, concentrating on keeping up with the vehicle in front of me in the convoy, or basically just getting lost in the calm and beauty of this place, my thoughts invariably kept drifting back to you.

I can’t help feeling guilty. I should be allotting space in my head for my dogs, who must be enjoying their stay at my parents’ house in Cavite, but must surely be wondering why I abandoned them yet again. I ought to start getting excited about my upcoming big trip, and making plans for all the things I want to do and all the places I want to see. And I should really spend more time contemplating a pretty huge milestone in my life that’s happening in a couple of months. (And that deserves its own entry).

Instead, I find myself just looking back at the littlest details of the last time I saw you. How I almost went in for a hug when it was always just a friendly handshake between us. The way you kept apologizing for being late, when I was just happy you made time to come see me at all. (Okay, I’m not exactly sure I was the reason you were there in the first place, but in my head, of course I was). And the shirt you were wearing that, crazily enough, made you look both old-fashioned and impossibly hip, either of which suits you just fine.

The way you laughed at the jokes at the table. How you listened and paid attention to the person talking that probably made them feel like they were revealing the secret formula for Coca-Cola. And how I imagined you were stealing glances at me while my head was turned, even though you were probably just turning your head as well, my face just another mundane object in your line of sight as you scanned the vicinity, perhaps looking for other, more stimulating targets.

But I didn’t have time to worry about that. You were there—all patient, polite and, well, pulchritudinous—and that was all that mattered. It took almost all of my willpower not to rest my gaze on you the entire evening. I engaged with the others, stood up to get a new bottle, and basically made excuses to look anywhere else but in your direction.

Oh but when I did. When I allowed myself those one or two seconds of just appreciating your you-ness; those atoms and molecules that come together to form your likeness and being—it made those weeks of not seeing you all worth it.

Even now, here in this hotel room in Siquijor, when I should be worrying about another early and long day tomorrow; when I should be panicking about stuff I have to do for work; when I should be thinking about a million other things in my life—my thoughts keep floating back to you.

It's strange, but thinking about you makes me feel morose and happy all at the same time. 

The Mid-30s Report

Walking the streets of Pisa, Italy

I wrote this essay when I turned 35. I still think much of what I said here is relevant, not just for those in their mid-30s, but for people of all ages. The platform I published it in is no longer online, which is why I'm republishing it here. If you're looking for some life lessons, you may or may not find it here. Either way, know that I'm rooting for you, wherever you are in your life and whatever it is you're going through. 

I turn 35 this Saturday. That’s two more years than Jesus, two less than INXS’s Michael Hutchence. Age is nothing but time, and time, as Einstein so brilliantly deduced, is relative. Depending on who I’m talking to, I’m either geriatric or still wiping breastmilk from my lips (no, I don’t think that’s a very pleasant image, either).

At least one good thing about being smack dab in the middle of my 30s is that it’s the perfect time to pause and consider the years I’ve been on this earth, reflect on the life I’ve been given, and assess the direction I’m headed. You only think you know what’s going on in your 20s, and by the time you’re in your 40s, everyone expects you to have figured everything out. Your 30s, then, is a sort-of buffer zone where you’re pretty much sticking to a life plan, but still given enough wiggle room to make mistakes, adjust goals, and even change course.

The tail-end of summer in Nice, France

It’s also a time when you can choose to share significant life lessons and realizations and not be so quickly dismissed. With age comes experience and while it may not be as extensive as someone who’s in the half-century mark or older, there is value in your words, because, believe it or not, you’ve earned it.

Here then are a few of the things I’ve learned after 35 years on this planet:

1. The only person you need to be at any age is yourself

Of course I’m paraphrasing Troy Dyer (if you don’t know who Troy Dyer is, never mind), but that doesn’t make it any less true. People put other people on a pedestal and practically kill themselves emulating their best qualities, hoping to gain similar achievements, or maybe even surpass them. But in truth, life hands out different fortunes to everyone. While one person is a millionnaire at birth, countless others will never experience wealth until they die of old age. Some of us struggle and toil, while others “ride their own melt,” simply hoping for the best.

Occasional jokes aside, I have no hang-ups about my age. I’m very aware that some of us left the starting line much earlier, and others much later. Everyone is negotiating life’s autobahn, and the sooner we realize that cars will forever be in front of and behind us, that we will never be first or last at anything, the sooner we can relax and drive at our own pace.

Hanging out at "the world's most beautiful cafe"

2. It’s okay to break up with friends

If you’ve kept the same set of friends since kindergarten, consider yourself lucky. When it comes to relationships, the stars align so rarely that it’s become something truly special when you keep people in your life for any significant period of time. But I’ve found that it’s okay to let go, of things, as well as people. Just because you shared a table during lunch in the second grade, or made fun of the same girl’s dress during high school, or went out drinking all night where you shared your deepest, darkest secrets to each other, doesn’t mean you’re bound for life. You choose the people you want to spend your most precious time with outside of family or profession, so they might as well be people you like and who like you.

I’ve had my share of break-ups with friends. It’s not easy, and feels unnatural at times. It’s not like breaking up with a significant other, where things are more defined: you see each other, and then you don’t. The times I cut people out from my life were the times I’ve had enough and I didn’t want to put up with their shit anymore. I consider myself a patient, levelheaded guy; it takes an enormous amount of asshole-ry to get me riled up enough to drop years of association and forget any semblance of attachment. Choose people who are inherently good, who will not abuse your generosity, who are themselves selfless and kind, and, most of all, people who will encourage you to be the best person you can possibly be. Don’t give up on people too easily, but when your happiness, not to mention your sanity, are at stake, you may need to rethink the people who occupy prominent billing in your life story.

3. Your dreams are your own. Don’t let others dictate your desires

It’s so easy to get distracted by everything thrown at us through TV, movies, magazines, and social media. We see or hear something, and before we know it, we’re starting to yearn. There’s nothing bad about that; desire is healthy as it keeps us running towards a goal. But make sure it’s what YOU want. Don’t wish for a hula hoop just because you saw someone on the playground with it, especially when what you really want is a bicycle.  

People dream of things for themselves all the time—a new car, a house, a wife/husband and/or kids. A better job, a week in Paris, new shoes. Whatever it is, make sure it’s something that you truly want for yourself. Be happy for friends who get married, buy that bungalow inside a gated subdivision, or finally get that much-coveted green card, but if these aren’t your dreams, don’t spend your life chasing after them. Focus on your own needs and wants because life is too short to try to win other people’s trophies.

Harbor in Monte Carlo

4. Take care of your body, but don’t be your own slave

Dissatisfaction with our looks has reached epidemic levels. If you don’t believe me, think about the last time you hesitated getting dessert because of all that extra calories, or the time you splurged on a new pair of jeans because it was flattering to your figure, or how much you agonized about posting that photo because, well, you weren’t sure if you looked your cutest.

I can’t presume to know what goes in the mind of someone who has had to struggle with weight issues as, thankfully, I’ve never had that problem (although I have been told on more than a few occasions that I was “too thin” or getting dangerously “too plump”). But what I know for sure is that I’ve never had to deprive myself of anything in the name of dieting. I’m aware that practically all the science says that one needs to eat right and engage in some form of regular physical activity to be considered healthy, and I’m not disputing that. But the moment we let this obsessive need to look good in order to gain the approval of others occupy our every waking thought, is the moment we let go of our individuality and become nothing more than drones whose idea of happiness and contentment is hinged on how many “likes” our latest profile photo gets on Facebook.

5. Never believe your own hype

A healthy dose of self-confidence is essential. Who else will believe in us if we don’t believe in ourselves? But there is a difference between faith in our capabilities, and overstating our competencies. One is walking calmly onstage during a singing tilt, head held up high, knowing you’re ready to belt out that piece you’ve been practicing for weeks; the other is telling everyone that no one else in the competition is at your skill level.

I’ve never thought I was good enough at anything and am genuinely surprised when people appreciate, even celebrate, almost anything I’ve done. I know I need to work on that. But I’ve always thought it was better to err on the side of humility. Confidence can so easily morph into arrogance. How you respond to compliments is a good barometer of your personality. I’ve found that people who think too much of themselves are generally those with unresolved self-esteem issues. It’s something to keep in mind the next time someone’s being an ass.

Having a drink of water at a public fountain in Rome

6. Doing more for others is actually doing yourself a favor

The great thing about being more giving is that it provides you with perspective you would otherwise not be able to get. It’s no secret that I’ve grappled with depression. One thing that helped me get through it is focusing on the things that I have in my life that I am grateful for. And although it sounds a little morbid and mean, the gratitude only intensified when I realized how little many other people have.

I’m not rich (far, far, from it), and I come from a simple family, but we live in a country where beggars on the street are a common sight, where people live in wooden shanties beside polluted rivers, and where hunger is a serious issue. The moment we stop to give more of ourselves to others is the moment we understand how privileged we truly are. It works both ways, too: try focusing on everything in your life that you don’t have, and you’ll soon realize that you’ll never, ever have enough.  

7. Reading books and listening to music is never a waste of time

This one is pretty much self-explanatory. I haven’t read nearly enough books as I would’ve liked to this year, but music has been a constant presence. At this point in my life, weeding out non-essential people is as simple as asking them whether they like to read or listen to music. If the answer to either is “no,” then I can already tell we won’t have a lot in common.

Books and music are also a good way to expose yourself to the experiences of others and figuring out what you can use in your own life. Because no matter how unique you think your life is and how spectacularly interesting things have happened to you, chances are, someone else has gone through the exact same thing and have written or sung about it better than you can possibly imagine.