Hardening the hands and strengthening the mind with an honest day's work

 @wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

'A hen can sit still and earn a living, a man can't.' Thus ran one of the "jokey" signs that hung in our family kitchen back in the day.

Wrong Way Corrigan trasteos: From truck to tabletop, more or less.

It fitted, indeed fits, well with the traditional model where the man goes out to work — to do "real" work with his hands, that is. 

For the likes of my father, born in early 1940s rural Ireland, such thinking ran deep. Physical labour outside the home was where it was at (let's conveniently skip over the fact that many housework chores require plenty of elbow grease, too).  

Soft hands

However, as has long been the case but even more so these days, it's the man or woman sitting relatively still, staring into a screen, who invariably makes a better living than those engaged in employment that is more physical in nature.  

For the majority of my working life, I've very much been in the former camp: the soft-hands brigade (minus any significant payment).

Nonetheless, I don't shy away from donkey work when the opportunity presents itself. 

In fact, with the adage 'a change is as good as a rest' in mind, I largely relish the chance to get my hands dirty these days. (No doubt it's also a case of 'what's seldom is wonderful' — not-so-fond memories of long, tiring days shovelling concrete during summer holidays from university help to keep things in their proper perspective.)

So it was with an amount of enthusiasm that I agreed to lend my modest lifting force for two recent substantial house moves, or trasteos as they call them in Colombia. 

Over a year of pandemic-induced monotony also has to be factored in. Anything that breaks the routine right now is largely welcome.  

While it might be a stretch to say these were wholly invigorating experiences, they certainly gave me a boost.

'I've always struggled to understand those who drive or take public transport to go relatively short distances and then pay for gym membership to run on a treadmill that goes nowhere.'

This is not to say I've been living a largely sedentary existence of late. The Google Maps record of my monthly movements, which isn't the whole story, shows I cover a minimum of eight kilometres per day on foot, plus another few kilometres by bicycle from time to time (I prefer power walking to cycling, especially considering the chunky bike I inherited isn't really made for speed).

The reason the house-moving work made me feel particularly good was, I figure, due to the novelty of it together with the need to use physical force to meet a clear, specific end. I felt I was doing something useful — and appreciated by others — with an immediate goal in sight.

Running to stand still

Digging more deeply into this, it ties in with my tendency to think in the short term. It's why, I guess, I've never been a big fan of going for runs or hitting the gym 'just because'. 

I generally like to see an immediate return when engaging in an activity. 'What's the benefit, the point of this, in the here and now?' It also explains why I prefer to play a game of football or whatever rather than just practise for it.

Of course, a slight change of mindset is all that's needed for me to view the likes of regular running in the same light. Rather than seeing it as mere 'running for running's sake' I could take a different approach, where I tell myself I'm achieving something tangible at the moment of action.

In fairness, this is what I do with my walking. If I have an engagement that's inside a 10-kilometre radius of where I am, I'll usually go on foot, should time allow, of course.

It's why I've always struggled to understand those who drive or take public transport to go relatively short distances and then pay for gym membership to run on a treadmill that goes nowhere. Why not just walk or cycle to the places you have to go to when going about your daily business?

That aside, all this just underscores why the 8-6 monotonous office job is not for me. Even though I see the benefit of routine, I enjoy having variety in what I do, variety that includes an amount of regular movement.

Old school this might be, but earning a living sitting still for the most part just doesn't sit well with me.
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Listen to Wrong Way's Colombia Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

 

The Bogotá nomad

It has been said that the first item on the agenda of a newly formed Irish political party is the split. Ireland just doesn't do unity very well, it seems.

Houses, houses everywhere but none that suits Wrong Way ...

Borrowing from that, after over eight years of Bogotá as my base, it would seem the first item on my imaginary agenda when I move into new accommodation is, 'Where will I live next?'

A moving target

I count 16 room rentals, excluding hostels, that I've had in the Colombian capital. That is to say, two house moves a year on average, although, somewhat embarrassingly, I've just completed move number three in as many months. Come on, we are living in, wait for it, unprecedented times, so this year's upheaval is excusable.

(I'm pretty sure I would have stayed where I was from June 2019 to March of this year had there been no lockdown, coming as it did with the prospect of sharing a house with a noisy six-year-old boy — the rules of engagement changed and I didn't like what I was facing into.)

Also, it's important to note that in the period from September 2016 to September 2018 — when I returned to Ireland for a family event, uncertain as to my Colombian future — I stayed in the same place.

You could say I found something resembling comfort in that apartment share on the city's northern reaches, 175th Street just off the motorway (autopista norte). Indeed, that greater area, especially Barrio Santandercito/San Antonio, remains my "stomping ground" of sorts.

Granted, it's quite far away from the centre and "hip" Chapinero and its surrounds, parts of town that could be said to be a little more cosmopolitan — they certainly have more foreign faces about in any case.

'My Colombian life has never really felt that real.'

Despite that, or perhaps because of it, I certainly don't miss living in the historic centre, La Candelaria, for one. In terms of city living, I want for little in the far north — bar my own place of course.

So, you ask, why haven't I got that after all this time? For starters, had I known back in 2012 that Bogotá would be my home for this long, it's fairly likely I would have made finding my own place a priority, thus nipping this housing headache in the bud.

Alas, like a garden bush you keep promising yourself to trim back but never get around to it, this issue has grown rather wild over the years. Now it just seems overwhelming to tackle.

And every time I'm reminded of it i.e. I have to move again, I usually think I won't be in the city too much longer so a short-term solution is the best approach, especially from a financial perspective (that's not only the more expensive rent but also the cost of making a vacant property a home for what may only be a couple of months).

The Colombian dream

You see, I've never been at a stage here where I've said to myself, 'Yea, this is it. I'm happy with what I'm doing so if nothing changes over the next while I see no reason to leave.'

Basically, if somebody had asked me that highly annoying, completely unoriginal interview question, 'Where do you see yourself in five years' time?', from a what-part-of-the-world perspective, at no time over the last eight years would I have answered 'Bogotá'. (In fairness, my general response to such a question is, 'Sorry, my clairvoyant skills just aren't what they used to be.')

At the risk of getting somewhat philosophical here, the thing is my Colombian life has never really felt that real. I came here on a bit of an adventure, to 'give it a lash'. A return to real living, you know, a proper, relatively well-paid job, maybe even settling down, having children, that kind of stuff, that's for somewhere else, not here.

That's been my thought process in any case. Nothing this year has changed that. In fact, it's only been reinforced.

The question is, what next? Now, if I can find a satisfying answer to that in the coming months, great. To borrow from one Irish "party" that has managed to avoid the inevitable split, I still haven't found what I'm looking for (that's the band U2, in case you're wonderin). Of course, one has to define what one is looking for before it can be found.

With that in mind, I'm as confident as I can be that having my own place is a necessity. It's a start, at least.
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Listen to Wrong Way's Colombia Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

All that you can't leave behind

Every now and again it’s a good idea to cut the crap from your life. To undergo a necessary pruning you might call it. This can be done in a number of ways and in different areas. 

For example, you can streamline your friend database – these days that might involve deleting from your mobile phone and/or Facebook the numbers and contact details of old acquaintances who might now be a source of negativity.* 

There are also the material things we build up over time – in some contexts, these could be seen as no more than clutter or rubbish but they can be hard to let go of all the same.

All that we can't leave behind?

It’s in that latter area where we often struggle – our penchant for holding on to various bits and pieces plays against us. 

Now, if you’re a settled person (whatever that means) with your own house or at least long-term accommodation, such a hoarding trait isn’t that big of a deal really. However, if you still have something of a backpacker lifestyle and mentality, as we generally do, then keeping hold of what are, objectively speaking, non-important things, is far from a convenient practice.

What we’re on about here is the ability to extend the travel light approach to living light. After almost two years of being based in Bogotá but with a necessary break (for how long, we’re not sure) from the city on the horizon, the dreaded time of gathering up our things is fast approaching.

At first glance and without really getting down and dirty in it yet, it appears that we haven’t done too bad in terms of a large accumulation of stuff compared to other places we’ve stayed in over the years. 

For one, we don’t own any big electrical equipment or cumbersome furniture – in any case, if we did, they’d have to stay put unless they were of incredible emotional value. As for everything else, the question is: Can we put what we want to bring with us into one bag that weighs no more than 20 kg? That’s the goal.

Many of us are guilty of having more than we need.

In theory, it shouldn’t be a problem. What more does one really need to travel with other than some basic clothes? Added to that, it’s not like we’ve got any expensive outfits in our wardrobe – a nice, not-that-heavy suit apart – that we can’t leave behind.

Indeed price-wise, the ‘Wrong Way’ set of clothes these days is very much in the value-for-money, practical department.

This is, however, where what might be described as emotion comes into play. What we do have is an assortment of football and rugby shirts of sentimental value. An ever-growing collection we like to have recourse to at any given moment. Individually, of course, these tops weigh next to nothing; collectively, though, is a different story, while they also occupy some valuable room in a backpack tight on space.

Alongside the shirts, but perhaps slightly more acceptable in terms of emotional attachment, we’ve the various little mementoes that we’ve built up over the last couple of years. ‘Important’ paper cuttings, various correspondence, thought-provoking books that we like to keep hard copies of for reference, stuff like that.

But if we’re being tough on ourselves, coupled with a potentially bulging bag, a lot of these things can be scrapped. Sometimes it’s best just to live with the memories – no more, no less. What’s going to be required is German-style efficiency and precision when we’re eventually packing things up.

Living light, the extreme way.

It’s also worth bearing in mind that being in a position to have this as a problem shows the privileged place we’re coming from. There are plenty of people on this planet who are not and never will be able to accumulate a stash of material stuff. 

For them, it’s just about finding sufficient food to survive on from one day to the next. We don’t need to look too far for examples of this – here in Colombia, the gap between the haves and the have-nots is as wide and apparent as anywhere.

So while it’s a good idea to cut the crap from your life, when doing so it’s also wise to put things into an appropriate context. However, both can be quite difficult to do.

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*For more on some of the ‘evils’ of Facebook and its ilk, see http://bit.ly/Rbh9lc. Also, for how some Colombian ladies deal with 'friend clearing' see http://bit.ly/NsJyB5.