Living in Tune With Nature (on a small remote island)
Last night I found myself outside at midnight trying to calm down my dog who was barking at an intruder (a four-legged one as it turned out). Initially annoyed, I was surprised to find how light the moon shone. Living on an island on the edge of the vast Pacific means there is little noise and no light pollution. It was a beautiful clear night. The cats joined us for a moonlit walk along the shallow water. It was low tide, calm and completely silent except for a nocturnal bird calling into the night. It‘s those moments that make the challenges of living remotely in a developing country all worthwhile.
Could you live here? © Hadassa Haack
I would have stayed for hours but the mosquitoes won.
When I lie in my bed I can feel the vibration of the waves crashing outside my house. It is a distance of about 20 metres but my place is more a cabin than a house, only partly concrete and built on stilts onto the ground that is basically part of the reef. During the stormy season the ocean can be so loud that it wakes me up. It reminds me of living on the cliff in Australia and I love it.
The first thing I do in the morning is to check what the tide is doing. That will dictate the course of my day. Get in the water or work. The morning energy is particularly amazing. In a tropical country it makes sense to get the bulk of work out of the way in the very early morning hours when it is still cool (and the internet is less clogged up) but that has never worked for me. I do however, try to get some quiet time with coffee and my pets on the beach before the surfers, workers and tourists come out. During the long months of lockdown I had it all to myself and secretly and selfishly so, I miss it.
Another strong influence is the weather and season of course. Monsoon season (pre-pandemic) was when everyone left and headed back to their respective countries to earn money and come back during the drier months. Rainy season is my favourite. I love the crazy tropical downpours, the storms and the wild ocean. The water is finally cool and clean and one can occasionally snuggle up under a blanket. I don’t have air conditioning so it’s a big deal. But it’s also challenging: everything gets damp and requires a lot more upkeep. A small scratch can turn into a full blow infection when you have to wade through puddles. It also means that all the critters suddenly want to take up residence in my house and I have had many restless nights trying not to think about where the giant spider went or why my cats have decided not to kill this particular rat that keeps showing up as soon as I am about to fall asleep.
After a few years, you learn how to read the seasons, the ocean and the weather so that now I know how many minutes I have left before the next wall of rain comes down or when to batten down the hatches to get ready for a storm. Here, the days of gentle but never ending rain we know from England or Germany are rare. It either rains so that it hurts your skin and roads turn into lakes or it doesn’t. Riding a motorbike becomes so much more challenging so it’s good to head home on time.
Then there is the moon. Living in nature away from everything, it seems like you feel its effect much more. Both animals and humans are affected by it. Crabs are dazed and confused and walk into roads and even houses - usually ending up in a cooking pot here in the Philippines (I have a resident crab in my garden and I fear for his life every month). The beauty of it is stunning. Everyone marks the day. Funny how something that reoccurs every single month with absolute certainty can still be so anticipated and magical. Watching it rise from a boat on the water is an incredible experience.
Last, but by no means least, is getting to know the wildlife and marine life as well as seeing how dogs and cats live when they are free to roam. I have always been around animals but here I have seen to an even greater extent how intelligent and happy they can be. Also, of course, how unexpectedly they can come into your life and leave it again just as suddenly. The circle of life is ever present.
Sadly, one also becomes much more aware of how far the pollution of our planet has come, when even here the ocean is full of plastic and people burn plastic trash every day because they have no other way to dispose of it. Poor people buy the little one-portion plastic sachet for the day or week because that is all they can afford.
Although I miss the energy and inspiration of a city like Sydney, which I still consider my home or London where I lived nearby in my early twenties and particularly the weird magic of LA, I know I could not go back to the urban jungle. I grew up in the countryside and it feels like I have come full circle. Being exposed to the beauty of nature and forces that are beyond our control changes you. It can be challenging and at times too much but for me, feeling at peace and finding moments of happiness is only possible in nature, surrounded by animals.
When you’re also a restless extrovert that can be a dilemma - figuring out my next move is proving to be tricky. Suggestions are welcome.
