This story is inspired by true characters.

BILLIONAIRE BUTCH: Patrick, my son, you know that I am a rags-to-riches guy, right?

PATRICK: Of course, dad. You were selling injection bottles with nice tight rubber caps in Bambang as a boy. You were eating leftovers from noodle restaurants.

BUTCH: I have spoiled you. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. I want you to learn about life.

PATRICK: Dad, I know about life. That’s why you sent me to the best university.

BUTCH: Patrick, I know it is good that you are oozing with confidence but you still don’t know anything about life. The university is theoretical wisdom — books, classrooms, pretty girls.

PATRICK: Girls are not theoretical, dad.

BUTCH: I want to immerse you in experiential wisdom, in the dynamic cruel world so you will learn about life.

PATRICK: I went on a two-week trip to Spain. I learned a lot.

BUTCH: You learned nothing, Patrick. I want to dip you in mud.

PATRICK: To learn about life? Mud?

BUTCH: Yes. Mud is a healing substance. It is medicinal. It is good for you, for your face, for your soul. I want you to spend a week with a poor farmer’s family. I’ve arranged it.

PATRICK: (After one week with the farmer’s family) Not enough, Dad. I want to stay for a whole month. This thing is opening my eyes. Thanks, Dad, for giving me an education outside the sterile university.

BUTCH: Go ahead. One whole month.

PATRICK; (After a month) You can’t imagine what I’ve learned, Dad.

BUTCH: Tell me about it.

PATRICK: We have a pet dog. They have four.

BUTCH: What else?

PATRICK: We have a swimming pool with treated water, which reaches the end of the garden. They have a river, with crystal clear water, fish and other beautiful things, which goes all the way to the horizon. We have solar lights in our garden but they have the stars and the moon to illuminate them. Our garden goes up to the wall, theirs up to the horizon. We have a false sense of wealth. Dad, they are richer than us in many ways.

BUTCH: Now I am learning from you.

PATRICK: We buy our food from the grocery, all neatly packed in cellophane. Sometimes they hide the rotten part and include it in the pack. The farmers grow their food, harvest it and cook it fresh. No wonder the kids of the farmers do not get the flu. They are strong and tough. Their immunity system is built up by nature. Ours is weak, based on medicine in bottles we buy.

BUTCH: Now you are talking —pure wisdom from immersion in mud.

BUTCH: I wanna be a farmer and wallow in the mud.

BUTCH: Good for you, son. Not a poor farmer, perhaps a bit rich, but simple.

PATRICK: Simplicity and wealth can go together, dad. You are right to give me a silver spoon in my mouth before immersing me in mud. I have learned for myself. The Philippines is the biggest exporter of coconuts worldwide. Indonesia is a poor second. Yet, we are so poor. The wealth in coconuts is beyond imagination. Dad, I want you to join me on a trip to Bicol.

BUTCH: I like that.

PATRICK: Do me a favor, dad. Pass everything on to Joel (his younger brother). He is the aggressive hard-working entrepreneur in the family. Let him run our empire. I am satisfied to be his R&D consultant.

(To be continued)