(Originally Written on March 2019)

It has only been five months since we officially moved in our newly constructed house. We noticed how all the time commotions are going on here and there. There is no doubt that the land has its own mind. Living here has tested our patience more than a hundred times. Why? Because the things we do turns out to be only a temporary solution.

Life in our natural farm is an ongoing saga, and sometimes we win some and other times we lose some. For example, a few months ago our water only came from a water pump which had to be manually pumped. Then, our carpenter helped us made it better by connecting a long black tube to a water source of the nearby village (which comes from the mountain).

We thought that the problem of having limited water was solved, but now our black tube got broken and disconnected. When we got it fixed again, we were so relieved only to find out the next day there is no water coming out from the tube. We are still trying to figure out why we have no water. Did the people in the village cut off all the water supply? Is it the dry season already therefore the mountain has no water anymore? I highly doubt it for just yesterday there was rain.

[Update: we found out the main tube near the source of water broke because it was too old already. It’s quite far away from our house, and we do not know exactly where it is. The people are too lazy to fix it, probably because they’ve been trying to fix it many times. They are resolved on using their own manual water pumps located closely at their houses.]

While we try to make things better here we focus on the good result that will come out of it. However, we realized that what we fixed will probably end up broken next week. It is tiring, and frustrating, and it makes us downright crazy. Not that I feel the need to move out of here, because I believe I would still rather live here than in the city. However, I do feel sometimes at a loss at how to deal with our problems.

A few times when I wake up in the morning, I felt like the house was caving into destruction because termites, ants, and wasps are either eating it or taking over our house. Most of the time my husband and I make jokes and sprinkle bright ideas on how to fix the water or the ant infestation or the flies.

On particular mornings when we just want our house to be ours (not of an ant, a bug, a fly, or a spider’s), we would wake up and wish that we could eat without thinking of the ants eating some tiny crumb of food we accidentally left. We would wish, after a tiring day, that we can take a bath without having a small panic attack when we open the faucet and wait for the water to drop.

We wish that there would be no electric shut-down whenever the sun doesn’t show, but my family’s life and I is simply like this. We live on the edge, so to speak. We live every day, and our supplies run only from one to three days.

On one or two occasions I’ve found my husband just staring at the abyss thinking of how unbelievably plenty our problems are. One time I heard him lightly banging the pots as he was annoyed by the ants eating his seeds. Sometimes he finds me stress-eating or cheering vodka in me to drink the problems we have.

On other days we both just end up lying in our bed groaning and sighing to the epic life we have. “Hey. At least we are now ready for the apocalypse,” we would joke.

Despite all these struggles, there is something wise about this: living in such a simple house made us feel adventurous and alive. It honed us to embrace the uncomfortable seasons of life; it humbled us to know that we are not the only ones living in our house.

We try to conserve more food, electricity, and water and in doing so we become more awake at how we use it and what we use it for. We are now less overindulged into material things. We observe our surroundings better and notice how others complain about petty things while we only wish for water or food to be steadily supplied.

How beautiful is it that this land is adventurous and full of surprises? Just yesterday, my husband and I trekked to a nearby mountain we have never been before and found ourselves staring at our very tiny house from a distance.

Who knew that in that tiny house, there are so many spontaneous things happening? Just earlier a frog leaped out from our sink!

How comical is it that the sun provides my house electricity but at the same time it also dries up our source of water and our crops? How unplanned is it that termite queens suddenly ended up in our garage, nestled in the corners of our wall? Such is the creative expression of nature; it is always changing and surprising us. There is no better way to accept it but to bow down to its glory.

“Such is the creative expression of nature; it is always changing and surprising us. There is no better way to accept it but to bow down to its glory.”

In the end, as I have said, sometimes we win the battle and other times we lose the war. What drama will arise again tomorrow? What will break and shut down again the next day?

Who knows? What I know is that my family is in love with this land, and we love each other enough to get through anything.
I am sure the land will appreciate our efforts and one day it will give us back what we have worked hard for. Everything balances itself out.

Did you had trouble living in your house? Share your stories in the comment section, and read more epic tales in our Life stories.