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Boracay

Monday May 14, 2007

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have chosen to spend my last days of unemployment at Boracay. It’s just like how I swore that I would never set a foot inside Embassy; I’m too fucking cool and non-conformist to go to where the rich and famous party. But from the moment I emerged from my final final exams, I knew that this wouldn’t be a normal summer and I’m glad that this was how I chose to end it.

A few weeks ago, I received a Friendster message from Jen, a classmate I haven’t seen nor spoken to since third grade. She moved to Canada after grade three and although we wrote each other letters for a few months, we eventually lost touch. Thank God for Friendster! She messaged me to say that she’d be in the Philippines for a few weeks and would I like to hang out with her and maybe go to the beach with her and her cousins? I replied immediately with a “Yes!” and this is how I ended up in Boracay with awesome new friends during election weekend.

The Nightlife

What with its reputation as a place to party and hook up with strangers, I imagined that Boracay to be something like an Eastwood with a tropical beach. I was surprised to discover that flights don’t take you directly from Manila to the island. From the Kalibo airport, you need to travel an hour and a half on land, then take a fifteen-minute boat ride before reaching Boracay. I was even more surprised when I saw that the streets of Boracay looked like a sleepy provincial town. If it were not for the restaurants and bars along the beach, I could’ve sworn we were in a normal rural village. I laughed at the thought of all those conyitos and conyitas walking on the narrow plank that leads to the boat, and then riding a tricycle to reach their hotels. It just doesn’t seem like something rich people do.

We reached the island early Saturday evening, which was a little disappointing because I was so ready to jump into the water. It was a perfect time, however, to grab dinner by the seaside and experience the night life. Upon checking in at Hotel Hannah (a quaint little place at Station 1, about a minute’s walk from the beach), we had dinner at Cocomangas and hung out in our rooms for a few hours before heading out to go dancing at the same place. I am by no means a party person. I love to dance (even though I suck) but I don’t listen to hip hop, and the thought of going to clubs and rubbing bodies against random strangers makes me feel a little uneasy. For that reason, I thought I would hate the Boracay night life but the exact opposite happened. No sleazy guys tried to pick me up and I was dancing with friends, which made the body contact part not as awkward as I imagined it would be.

The Beach

Despite our late night, we forced ourselves to wake up and hit the sand at 8 am. I hate waking up any time before noon but when I looked out the window and saw that the sky was a perfect cloudless blue, I perked up immediately. The weather’s been unpredictable lately and I was worried that our days in Boracay would be gloomy and dark. I guess the world is making up for the beach appetite that was left unsatisfied during my Ilocos trip.

Jen and I spent the whole morning lying on beach towels, getting a tan. Normally when I go to the beach, I just jump into the water and randomly get dark. This was the first time I’ve ever laid on the sand for hours with the intention of soaking up UV rays and I suppose it’s something you need to try at least once in your life. It’s not particularly exciting but I’m never energetic in the morning anyway, and the sun was too good to spend those hours sleeping in the hotel room.

One thing I discovered is that if you’re a rich tourist from a first world country, you can go to Boracay island with nothing but the clothes on your back and a fat wallet. Anything beach-related can be bought there–bikinis, towels, flipflops, sunscreen, even normal clothes. If you really want to get the beach look pat-down, you can even pay a local to braid your hair or give you dreadlocks. I passed by several tattoo parlors and was tempted to inquire about their rates, but I restrained myself from doing so. I could have blown the rest of my money on a tattoo but my parents would eat me alive the moment I get back and that’s never a good thing.

Another thing I learned during this trip is that it’s not always a good thing to travel with someone you have a crush on. I tend to get really neurotic, which makes me tune out the scenery because there are times when the only thing that’s on my mind is, “Notice me! Notice meeee!” In my desperation to get noticed I paid a local kid to teach me how to skimboard after lunch, thinking that I could impress him by looking cool and doing handstands and stuff. Unfortunately, I completely forgot that a) people are good at making difficult things look easy, b) I have no sense of balance, c) I can’t stand on a moving object to save my life. Technically, I already know how to skimboard but my body couldn’t do what my mind was telling it to. I kept falling on my ass and embarrassing myself the whole time.

And people wonder why I’m single.

The rest of the afternoon was spent frolicking in the water, failing to skimboard, and playing frisbee with random people who asked me to join their game. After everyone took a power nap at sunset, we hit the clubs again and discovered to our disappointment that the places were pretty dead. Then again, it was a Sunday evening. So instead of partying like Paris Hilton we played pool and found ourselves a karaoke bar, where we sang off-key to our favorite songs. And when the karaoke bar got too expensive, we walked along the beach and found a spot to lie on the sand under a canopy of stars, singing the entire time.

Leaving Boracay

Because I’m a loser and told my boss I could start on Tuesday when I could have easily said Wednesday, I had to leave Boracay at 6 this morning. Luckily I did the smart thing and barely got sleep the night before, which made me too exhausted to get properly depressed about heading back to Manila alone. I was still pretty sad anyway. No matter who I’m with and no matter how shitty it gets, I’m always at my happiest when I’m traveling. Now the fun part’s over and I need to face the fact I’m still at a complete loss as to what to do with my life despite being employed. That and all the other neurotic thoughts that plague my head every now and then.

I would definitely go to Boracay again, but not necessarily for the night life. It’s one of the best beaches I’ve ever been to–the white sand was heaven on my toes and despite the heat of the sun, the water stays ice cold. I love that I can walk around town in a bikini top and a skirt without looking out of place; it’s just too hot in this country to be fully clothed. The company, however, was what made the whole trip an indescribably wonderful experience. I’m extremely glad I got the chance to rediscover an old friend and find out that we get along very well even though we haven’t seen each other in over a decade. Things like that don’t happen to people on a normal basis.

Tomorrow’s my first day at work and the thought is semi-depressing. The only thing that’s keeping me going is that this is an opportunity for me to earn more money. More money equals more travel. Or maybe I could just save that money and act on my new Life Plan: learn and master a water sport, quit my day job, then live on a shack in the beach and make a living extorting tourists out of their money to teach them the said water sport. I know that’s probably not going to happen but hey, a girl can dream about happier days.


Adventures up North: Ilocos

Thursday May 10, 2007

I’m a huge sucker for freebies, so when Abe mentioned that the Band of Bloggers would be going on a trip to Ilocos sponsored by a certain senator, I jumped at the chance. Little did I know that my “free vacation” would end up resembling a crazy post-college road trip, minus all the fun, plus politics.

Traveling with Abe and I were Aileen and Sasha. The trip to Ilocos takes about ten to twelve hours by land, and I did the smart thing and stayed up the night before so I’d spend most of the ride asleep. When I woke up sore (from the uncomfortable bus seats) and cranky (couldn’t sleep well because of said seats), I learned that my worst fears came true. This was no vacation. There would be no beach. We were there to tag along with the senator’s group in the bus and attend all his campaign rallies, then write about it in our blogs after. What in the world did I get myself into?

The only opinion I have on politics is rather crude and uninformed: no matter what promises the senatorial candidates make, we’re still screwed. They’re still going to use 10% of my hard-earned money to pay for their mansions and to keep their mistresses happy. Corruption won’t disappear in my lifetime. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t get involved in any of this election stuff and pander to politicians’ bullshit, much less write in my blog about what amazing people they are. But there I was, smack dab in the middle of it. I suppressed the urge to throw a hissyfit and decided to be a sport about the whole thing, taking down my thoughts as fast as my hand could write.

About 60% of our entire trip was spent riding the bus. After ten hours on the road, we headed over to the airport where our kind benefactor, the senator, arrived with his trophy wife. He spoke about things I couldn’t quite hear because he wasn’t using a microphone. Not that it mattered. I’m sure I’ve heard the same old speech about change, reforms in the political system, and the development of the country’s economy before. I thought we’d head over to our hotel afterwards but instead, we rode around Laoag City in a motorcade where the senator waved and I stuck my face out the window and watched the people standing by the roadside. Most of the time, the name they chanted was not that of the senator’s, but of his wife–clearly a lot of them won’t be voting for him because of the promises he made. What really broke my heart though, was the hopeful look they carried on their faces. They actually believe that this guy will wave his magic wand and radically change their lives for the better!

Popular politics is a sad sad thing. Clearly this senator is loaded. His aides are educated individuals who were working their asses off; I’m sure they weren’t doing this for charity. Everything in the trip was paid for–meals, accommodations, snacks. In Ilocos we stayed at Fort Ilocandia, which I didn’t really get to enjoy because we got there late in the evening. But from what I could see in the moonlight, it was quaint and gorgeous, far from the cheap roadside places I expected we’d be staying. I don’t even want to begin to imagine how much this guy spent for the whole campaign. Millions, probably. All this for a bunch of votes! It doesn’t make sense to spend so much money for the grueling task of serving the Filipino people. Nobody is that altruistic. That’s why I wasn’t swayed by his impassioned speech to the people of Batac. It was too clean, too rehearsed, too polished, like he spent hours in front of the mirror perfecting his modulation, deciding which words to emphasize.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more of this farce, the Band of Bloggers broke away from the caravan on day two due to some problems. We ended up in a resort in La Union after another very long bus ride, and the bad weather prevented me from frolicking in the ocean. *sigh* I’ll admit that this wasn’t the best trip I’ve ever been to but despite all my bitching, I am indeed extremely grateful for the experience. Watch me never get invited to cover an event again!


Leaving Singapore

Wednesday Apr 25, 2007

Excerpts from my little red notebook. Extremely cushy and sentimental. You have been warned.

“I’m sitting at the departure area of the Singapore budget terminal. I don’t remember feeling so sad about leaving a country before. The last time my chest hurt this much was when things didn’t work out with the last guy I fell in love with (and not due to a near-fatal asthma attack from smoking, as some people might assume). I feel like a Chinese girl who has been forbidden to see and speak to her lover because a marriage to a disgusting pig has already been arranged and is about to take place. But perhaps this analogy is a tad dramatic and inaccurate. No stupid arranged marriage can keep me away from what I love.

singaporeI’ve become more than simply attached to this place. I’ve fallen in love with Singapore and its sprawling parks, clean streets, efficient public transportation system, the glittering city lights in the evening. But above all those things, I’ve fallen in love with the people. My last day in Singapore was great. I met up with Evie for a late lunch, after which I sat in a Starbucks and alternated between reading, people-watching, and power-napping. Even coffee can’t keep me from my afternoon naps. In the evening, Nic and I met up with Evie, this time with her boyfriend Budak, and we had beer at this awesome place called Archipelago. Time flew by way too quickly. One moment we were yakking our heads off about blogging, countries we’ve been to, and other fun things, and the next moment we realized that it was almost 9–time for Evie and Budak to catch their film and for me and Nic to take our last train ride back to his dad’s place.

“I try my hardest not to get attached to people and places because saying goodbye to something familiar and safe is one of the hardest things to do in the world. But no matter how high I build my walls and fortify my fortresses, people have ways of slipping through the cracks and crevices that lead to my heart. I damn near cried when I said goodbye to Nic’s dad, who has been extremely generous and hospitable throughout my stay here. I’m going to miss my Singaporean friends very very much, even though I’ve only spent a few hours of my trip with them. I wish I could have stayed in Singapore longer than a week, but I suppose that would make leaving this country even more difficult than it already is.”

If I had been scribbling away in my notebook the moment our plane reached Manila, my thoughts wouldn’t have been as verbose and romantic. Interrupting my sleep is somewhere on the top ten horrible things anyone can do to me. And since I only got about an hour and a half’s worth of sleep, I imagine that the appropriate journal entry would go something like this:

“Fucking hell, don’t make me put my seat up-fucking-right. I wanna fucking go back to sleep. Fuck this immigration shit. Fuck this customs shit. Fuck my luggage. Wait–I’ve got stuff in my luggage. What the hell are you assholes standing for, the doors aren’t even open yet. Oh wait, people are leaving the plane now. Get the hell out of my fucking way asshole, move faster old lady, fuck you fuck you fuuuuuck.”

In our half-dead state, Nic and I hopped off the plane and encountered a poster warning everyone about bird flu. Which made me turn to him and ask, “Bird flu. That’s like, for birds, right?” We pondered on the philosophical question I posited for an entire minute before heading off to immigration. Ah, intelligent early-morning musings.

Now that I’ve informed all my friends about my arrival, it’s time for me to get some fucking sleep. It’s good to be back. :)