Free at Last

Free at Last!
Musings on the Occasion of my Retirement

In the past 2 years work had been in the way of the things that I wanted to do. In the past year it had been unbearable because of work politics which earned me a place as thorn on the side of administration and of staffing cut backs which impacted patient care adversely. I couldn’t quit and throw away retirement benefits I will be entitled to from the State which I will qualify to receive in 12 months. I felt trapped and suffocated, and helpless, and powerless. I had to harness support and strength from my friends and family to contain myself and protect me from my reckless impulses. And so when August 31st arrived I couldn’t wait to check out. I discouraged any farewell party plans, I was not cut out to be politically correct. When my colleagues looked at me with pitying eyes and made remarks as if I was going to be lost in long days of emptiness and boredom, I sent them a cheery card bidding adieu to the tune of
Evita’s aria, “ Don’t cry for me GRH-Atlanta, the truth is I couldn’t wait to leave you!”

After I signed off at Personnel, cleaned out my desk, and turned in my badge and keys, I rolled the top down of my Beetle convertible and drove off, my hair blowing in the wind, and my joy soaring with Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major playing on NPR. Free at last!

I had a grand retirement party planned for months. I had this idea that I will be a nomad for a while, living for months at a time in a single country and really getting to know the place and the people and experiencing how they live. It turned out that a lot of people are already doing this as a lifestyle. I started corresponding by email with one of them, Rita Golden Gelman. I wanted to meet her when she was passing through Atlanta, but our schedules didn’t merge. I’ll be a dilettante nomad, that’s how I see what I want to do . So I planned right away to be abroad for 2 months starting in September, with the first month to be my grand retirement party in Costa Blanca in the Spanish Mediterranen coast between Valencia and Alicante, where I rented a 5-bedroom villa for 4 weeks. I invited all my friends to join me and 23 made the trip. However, I didn’t get to experience the local lifestyle as Costa Blanca is populated by English expatriates who had transformed the coast into a homogeneous strip of high rise condominiums and covered the hills with cookie cutter luxury villas with individual swimming pools. With friends streaming throughout the 4 weeks, there was no opportunity to get acquainted with the local Spaniards. As it were the local population in the villages became the tourist attraction together with the Roman and Moorish ruins dotting the coast. So OK, this was a party, a great party with friends, and I haven’t begun my nomadic experiment yet.

I had booked a week in October in a condominium in Ischia, an island off the bay of Naples, across Capri, to be pampered in the hot springs and mineral springs fed by Mt. Vesuvius. The condo is high in the hills in the tiny village of Panza, however it is sequestered from the village and caters to German tourists. The nearby spa I went to, giardini Poseidon terme, is downhill, in the bay of Citara, is run by a German company, and similarly patronized by German tourists. I got a feel for the locals in the family owned restaurants in the village and in the internet cafe, where the local children hung out to play video games. When I took the trains to go around Italy, to Genoa, Milan, Verona, to Lake Coumo, Naples, and Sorrento, I was touring, and only got to mix with other tourists. When I returned to Spain for the Pueblo Ingles program in La Alberca, an English immersion week-long workshop for Spanish executives and professionals, which I signed up for as a volunteer in exchange for meals and lodging, then to Madrid, Toledo, and Salamanca, I still didn’t get the feel of the place, I was still a tourist. This is not the way to be a nomad. So I got to thinking while I was in Madrid, inspired by nationalistic fervor while retracing Rizal’s steps during his stay there, that I can put some structure to my nomadic plans. Instead of randomly picking countries, I will immerse myself in the countries that were former colonies of Spain and use my stay as a laboratory to observe and collect information. By this time I had an epiphany of an ambitious project for my retirement. I will examine the similarities and differences in the colonization experiences of all these former colonies vis a vis the Philippine experience, and understand how nationhood developed, and specifically explain why the Philipppines and Filipinos are the way they are now. Somewhere along this I will also explore the Filipino identity from a psychological and behavioral perspective. I also want to examine the relationships of these former colonies with Spain now, and the Philippines in particular. I wondered how the history of colonization is being taught to children in Spain, in the former colonies, and in the Philippines. A tall order indeed and for sure I dont’ know where I’m coming from. Obviously I have no idea about what’s going on in this subject. Since then I’ve superficially explored how to begin. I inquired from Georgia State and University of Georgia and Georgia Tech and Emory how I might go about this. I was referred to history departments and in some to their Hispanic studies. It is evident I have to develop a network, and I need to identify people of kindred interests. I still have to review what’s being done on the subject in the Philippine universities, who are researching and writing about this in the Philippines. Some Philippine studies are incorporated in Asian studies, a completely different curriculum. I will have to examine the contents of these curricula and do literature search on the subject. Immediately, a major challenge faced me. Hispanic studies require language competency. It is apparent to me now that this will be work, not leisure, and it is work that will take many years, and a thousand hours of reading and research. I recall the fear and panic of the Spaniards in being compelled to speak only English 24/7 in the Pueblo Ingles program and I question myself if I have the resolve and audacity to take Spanish on as they took English. But I must if I want to examine manuscripts and original documents.My medical studies which I approached with just the minimum effort required to pass the subjects pale in comparison with the labor involved here in my view. And although I’m very excited and energized by this, I will think about this tomorrow. This may remain as a wish. In the meantime, I could work on my golf handicap. If my sign and the heavens are well aligned, I might break 90 without dropping a sweat.