MussoLOLen is Always Right! |

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!

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.

I’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. :)

Screw travel guides and all those book that attempt to condense an entire country’s culture into a couple of chapters. The best way to really learn about a country is to talk to the locals.

The early afternoon was spent hanging out with Baldwin, an internet friend who owns his own tattoo and piercing parlor in Fortune Center, Middle Road. If any of you are ever in Singapore and want a tattoo or a piercing, I recommend that you go to his place. The mall itself might look a little dodgy, but his shop is very clean and professional-looking–a far cry from most of the tattoo places back in the Philippines.

After hanging out in Fortune Center, Nic and I headed over to Chinatown to buy souvenirs for friends back home. I spent approximately a hundred Singapore dollars on t-shirts, smoking paraphernalia for friends who smoke (since cigarettes are too fucking expensive), and various other useful things with the word “Singapore” on them. Yes, that’s how much I love my friends and family. :P At the risk of sounding cheesy, I think spending that much on souvenirs was worth it. I like bringing back a little piece of my trip to people I love back in the Philippines. Besides, I spent a ridiculous amount of money on myself over the past week, so I suppose it’s only fair.

During the middle of our shopping trip, the grey skies finally gave way to heavy rain, causing Nic and I to take shelter in front of a nearby electronics shop. As we kicked ourselves in the asses for not thinking of bringing an umbrella with us, the shop owners invited us take a seat outside their shop and engaged us in conversation. Soon we were sipping coffee with them and I was giving my usual list of fucked-up social and political things back in the Philippines. Interestingly enough, I felt a strange sense of nationalism as I rambled on about corrupt politicians, poverty, and how our culture seems to perpetuate the entire system of social inequality. Not in the sense that I’m proud of those things, but I somehow got the notion that maybe there is something I can do to help change things. I don’t know.

The Night Safari and drinks at the Raffles Hotel with my relatives here filled up the rest of my evening. My wallet is home to two Singapore dollars and some pesos. I’m meeting a friend for lunch in an hour and I have no idea how I’ll be able to afford anything. Maybe I’ll just make some lame excuse about being on a diet.