Boracay Bits (and some firsts)

I almost did not join the trip because, well, I have been there before. It was crossed off my list. I wanted to go somewhere I haven't been to.

But my choir-mates know me too well. I seldom can stand peer pressure. All of them were going and they were goading so darn bad that I really had no choice but to say yes. Some shotgun phone call that was – on a busy evening in May.

Almost immediately after I grudgingly said yes, I was excited! The trip would undoubtedly be great. I really do love Boracay! I could not wait to storm Jonah's and get my fill of heavenly fruit shake to last me until next summer.

Two months later, we hit the beach! We arrived at the homey Boracay Residences on a Thursday, at around five in the afternoon after a long journey from Kalibo. We were met at the Cagban Port by Kuya Allan, the resort's jack-of-all-trades (cooks breakfast, arranges tours, brings us blankets, et cetera).

 The sunset person in me reveled in this scenery.

It was evening when we decided to walk the beach. The powdery white sand was just as I remembered. Like a dream, smooth and pleasantly tickly on my bare foot. It felt like a sin to walk over in flip-flops and I saw my friends doing the same – picking up their slippers and skipping in the shallow waves.

I felt relaxed. I could not wait for the morning, when we'd see Boracay in its sunny glory.

We walked the length of Stations 1 and 2 before we called Kuya Ronnie, the resort's driver, to pick us up from D'Mall. Boracay Residences was not really that far from the beach, but we adored the transfer service after long walks on the sand! Kuya Allan and Kuya Ronnie were godsends.

We stayed three nights and each of these were spent in our two-bedroom suite, singing our “Greatest Hits” and recounting our infamous tales from Marian Choir days. Music brought us together, and in music, we will bond! 

 Days of sand and glory. Resting in between jump shot sessions

In the mornings, we toured the island, did gazillion jump shots – which were mostly practice for when Kuya Ronnie would get the few perfect shots. The photos were worth the aching thighs and sunburns.

I'm glad I made the trip. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Travels are made more fun by “firsts.” And although it was my second time in paradise, the trip was made more meaningful by these bits:

First time I traveled with my closest Marian Choir friends, whom I loved to death even more because of this trip.

First time I flew with PAL, which was so-so, save for the “check-in” boo-boo (not my story to tell, though!).

First time I witnessed a fire dance. OOOOHH-EEEEMMM! Super amazing! I swear i found myself open-mouthed in amazement several times during various performances. These guys should be earning so much for this! 

 My friend, Angel, took this spectacular shot. 

I was too busy gaping to even think of my camera.

First time I floated on open sea! But with life vest, of course, because for the life of me, I can't swim.

A million thanks is not enough for the patience of Kuya Acy, who never gave up on leading me despite my frantic negatives.

Mag-papanic akooo! Ayokoooo! Hindi ko carry 'yan! 
(while holding on tightly to the katig)

I finally gave in to peer pressure when I saw all of them floating quite happily away from the boat, and the life-saving katigs. It was bliss! I can't wait to snorkel again!

My Love Affair with Boracay

Three years ago, when I first saw Boracay's White Beach, I fell in love at first sight. 

 i can walk this beach all day.

Three days ago, when I saw it again in broad daylight, I fell in a love a second time. I guess when a place is truly beautiful, it does not matter how many times you get captivated. You just do. Over and over again. Happily. 

Crazy Things I Did Today

 

Mind you, it's just Tuesday. 

Although, come to think of it, it's my workday midweek since I will be on leave on Thursday and Friday (yippee!). My whole being must be on holiday mode already because so far, today has been my ditziest day of the quarter (last quarter's was... well, let's not talk about it now).

First, I might have left two of my electric fans running at home. And yeah, I might have left the blower plugged, as well. It dawned on me as I was walking some two blocks away from the office – and running late as it is. Luckily, I had the embarrassingly eureka moment of calling the admin guards to check if my meter is running. You would imagine my “wording” dilemma. How do I manage this conversation without burying myself further in ditziness? Well, here goes the conversation. Please do not judge me.

Me: Hello, Kuya Ronald, quick question. Kapag ba umaandar 'yung metro, eh di ibig sabihin may umaandar din na appliance, diba?

Ronald: Yes, Ma'am.

Me: Sige, pa-check naman if umaandar 'yung sa amin. Hindi ko kasi sigurado kung napatay ko 'yung switch. Sorry ha. Tawagan kita ulit?

To my eternal gratefulness, Kuya Ronald confirmed that the meter was not moving.

Second thing, I sidetracked an assignment, which my boss ended up doing. In my defense, I was prioritizing another stint, which was more crucial in my understanding as it was a direct order from one of our top bosses. Anyway, I hope he did not hold it against me – which is most probably the case as i'm not yet fired right now.

Third and most yucky, I managed to spritz coke (as in Coca-Cola drink) on my department manager's table, around her files and on myself. I was chit-chatting and opening a liter-and-a-half bottle and the coke suddenly went spraying around in abandon. I closed the cap when I realized what was happening, but damage has been done and I stared helplessly at the mess. My manager friend, whose desk I ruined, laughed so hard when she snapped out of her shock. I was stammering my apologies and dabbing at my shirt front and surfaces I can reach.

It was horrible. I don't think I can open another softdrink bottle without cringing.

Copies of minutes were splattered with brown; my lunch was swimming in a puddle of coke, scratch pads were blotched and browned – and the floor! Our shoes kept sticking to it long after we wiped the mess with newspapers.

My friend was cool about it, for which I was thankful. I was SO apologetic, but she kept saying that such things happen. But really, the person who must have shaken the bottle crazy (which caused the build-up), must have a very troubled brain.

Funny day, this. Some are crazier than other, after all. I hope there won't be a fourth on the list today.