The Lamentations Of A Traveler

Image source: www.123rf.com

Image source: http://www.123rf.com

The stars that dotted the sky are flirting with the buttery moon. The night seems so alive as the sea breeze play with your hair. The anticipation in your eyes are veiled by the shadows of the night. You have been dreading this trip and kept pushing it back, pretending that there are far more important things that needed to be dealt with. But just like the other things in your life, this journey had a way of coming up to the surface, confronting you with the reality that you need to face. There’s no delaying it. Despite the fear and the hesitation, you had to do it now.

Despite the lack of sleep and the fatigue from a day’s worth of traveling, you can feel joy well up from deep inside, a shadowy memory of a not-so-distant past, a watercolor of vague images on a summer afternoon. The faint whir of the boat jolts you back to the present. The slight swell of the waves holds a rhythm that is ever so comforting. From time to time, a whimsical spray of seawater teases your face. The almost black shadow of an island looming in front of you is getting bigger by the minute. The lights from a distance are either from other boats or from the houses near the sea. They bring warmth that soothes your weary bones. The sea at night is dark but littered with twinkling diamonds, glittery just like the tears that slowly fall down your face.

The things that you fear are those that can make you happy or sad or both. This is a bittersweet reunion for you, a homecoming you would rather just pencil indefinitely on your to-do list. As the outline of the huge shadow is becoming sharper and the sleepy homes near the shore becomes clearer, the memories wash over you: the good, the bad and the ones you have buried and pretended never existed. The past is a box of pictures you’d rather keep at the bottom of your closet, never to be opened again; yet the denial will keep haunting you until you have to stare at the photos again, be reminded of the people and stories behind their smile.

The crickets and the waves have replaced the sound of the motor. You have finally reached your destination. You got off the boat and when your toes dipped in the water, you were greeted by the mossy pebbles, probably not the same ones you played with when you were five. Nevertheless, they felt the same.

You are the daughter who had left but has now come back. The cold night air gave you goosebumps but you don’t feel cold at all. Instead, a slow-burning fire has ignited in your soul. The island has engulfed you in its arms, a mother overjoyed by the return of one of the children she lost to the sea.

The moon is still buttery yellow but is now slowly hiding beneath the clouds. The stars are still glittery, just like the tears you’re trying to hold back as it dawned on you, you are home.

Image source: iasminahampel.wordpress.com

Image source: iasminahampel.wordpress.com

*The author would like to write an ode to her hometown but she is lyrically challenged. Nonetheless, this is a tribute to her home, Maripipi.

Totally Beaching

Boracay Sand

Boracay Sand

Let’s clarify this once and for all, you don’t swim in the beach. You go to the beach and swim in the sea. According to Merriam-Webster, a beach is a shore of a body of water covered by sand, gravel, or larger rock fragments. But seriously, if you do swim in the sand or on gravel, then who am I or Merriam-Webster for that matter, to contradict that.

It’s summer again and the sweltering heat is driving hordes of people to the beach. What I wouldn’t give right now for a dip in the pristine blue sea even if it’s under the cancer-inducing glare of the sun. It’s this time of the year that I would love, love, love, love be in Maripipi right now, the island paradise where I grew up in.

 

 

 

 

Photo source: greenxplanet.blogspot.com

Maripipi Island Photo source: greenxplanet.blogspot.com

When I was a kid, my mother would forbid us to swim if unaccompanied by adults. She was terrified of the thought of us drowning. Also, she does not want me to spend so much time in the sea because I was pretty dark skinned when I was little. If you’re not a cute kid, the least you can do is at least not be too dark, lest you be teased mercilessly or worse, be pitied. Anyway, it was really hard to follow my Mom’s orders because we live just a few steps away from the sea. So during summer, as soon as school is out, my childhood friends and I would be frolicking in the sea. That was how I learned to swim. If you’re an islander, no one teaches you how to swim. You just do. It’s part of your instinct. Now I don’t swim gracefully as a mermaid or a member of a synchronized swim team but I am a pretty decent swimmer.

 

 

Photo source: myspace.com

Photo source: myspace.com

 

When I was in high school, the allure of the sea has faded just as I became more conscious of my complexion. I would only swim if I’m attending a beach party or in certain occasions like San Juan (Saint John’s Feast Day), Easter Sunday, et cetera. Then in college, I came here to the city and grew farther away from the sea. I would come home on semestral breaks and christmas vacation but was no longer interested in spending time in the sea. Although, nothing beats the sound of the waves at night to lull you to sleep.

 

 

 

Puerto Galera

Puerto Galera

Boracay

Boracay

 

beach buddies

beach buddies

 

Now that I’m already a member of the labor force, meaning I only get a limited amount of time for vacation, I realize how much I miss the sea. Truly, you don’t appreciate what you have until it’s gone. I miss how carefree you can be among the waves. I miss rubbing the salt crystals that have formed in the skin when the sun has dried the sea water. I miss waiting for the tide to rise because no one likes swimming in low tide, at least not back home. I miss home.

 

 

Of Feasts and Goodbyes

I’ve known Joboy since we were in diapers.

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I grew up with him in Hagonoy. His Mom is my mother’s best friend. Job and I have been roommates for almost four years now. I’m used to having him around: late night TV, junk food bingeing in the middle of the night and bonding over GPS green tea. Needless to say, he’s like a brother from another mother.

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Last night, we threw a dinner party for him because he’s leaving for abroad on Tuesday. Just like most of our childhood friends, he has decided to pursue better career opportunities abroad. Will surely gonna miss him.

There was also another reason why we had dinner last night, to celebrate the feast day of Saint Lorenzo Ruiz. He’s the patron saint of Hagonoy.

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I haven’t been home for 9 years now, and I miss it so bad. Hopefully I could go home this summer.

Back home, they still celebrate fiesta the grand way with lots of food, people, mass, music and dancing. And since it was a tradition we have observed since we were kids, we still do it now even if we’re far from home. So we had pasta, sisig, grilled pork chop, chocolate mousse and wine. The gesture made us feel closer to home.

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Sorry, last photo taken using tablet and so blurry.

St. Lorenzo Ruiz photo from livesofsaints.tripod.com.