That was when the opponents got together. They targeted businesses so I had to vet who was newly employed. They hired thugs to control workers organization, and plotted ways to spoil and corrupt that which was done for the whole of the community. They wanted to build another empire, destroying those in their path. Live and let live, our community motto, wasn’t their ethic or moral.
After, when the house was finished, I would be obliged to invite those very enemies to cocktail parties and social gatherings. They would invite me to their social events too; I would sometimes find excuses, sometimes go. It had become a game. We had stopped doing things for the good of the community, and stopped thinking how to improve, rather, how to avoid each othr or how to destroy each other. I resolved to go to more social events, with my ideas and talk, persuade, argue, enjoy.
I pointed to those fruits, provided by the community. Associations, schools, services, health, roads and water. All for the community. They would argue about the cost, or the influence of the state, or even my influence, arguing that my influence could be deemed negative or even destructive. People had become dependent, they argued, they were not autonomous. The police had become corrupted, and the law was no longer independent. I decided then, to sell the house, and to move further into the jungle, and build again, but this time I would ensure the community was no bigger that it needed to be and that all the businesses were run by me. A social town. I would never be free of those pirates though, I thought, as I returned back to the house. They were always looking for a way to kill those dreams they hated. That paternalism shouldn’t ever be a barrier to progress.
I sold the house for a good price, and set off; I told a handful of people my plans, and started again, building the next step. A smaller house, with farms and workshops, small businesses, a school and a nurse. I planned it, and made the employees partners again. Everyone had the same share, an equal vote. We were 50 kilometers away from the original house. The roads would be rudimentary, and we would rely on the internet for wider communication. All the goods and services we needed would have to be produced and made in the landscape, an attempt at self-sufficiency. We could try to sell the surplus, or store it, making preserves, jams, chutneys, freezing goods in the solar powered unit. But eventually, the real world always seeps in. How do we deal with those basic human instincts of greed, jealousy and move towards a loving world? My grandma’s fortune had faded and with it the dreams of changing the world. The pirates had won, and all that awaited us was dust. We had failed, and the riches of the land would be inherited by the fortunate few, and the poor would be in serfdom for eternity. They would be the barbarians that destroyed our society, creating a new pedestal of wealth for them to worship at. I had fled the challenges of the first house, instead of facing them, and the second fell into the same problems. We hadn’t learnt that greed creates envy and motivates people to do immoral things. People would do immoral things anyway, for the fun. Building those better worlds was impossible, I thought, as I lay in my bed. But tomorrow brings a new challenge, building a better world.
Perhaps our monument was our attempt at providing decency for people, an opportunity to thrive, a way out of the blinding poverty and job insecurity, a way of life with respect as its foundations. The house would be reclaimed. How arrogant it had been to try to bring what we considered civilization to the wilderness, when all along, there was a deeper civilization there, in those trees, birds and animals, living off the land; They had fought every day just to survive; in the end, death is master of all.