a walking accident

>Holy Week 2004: Holy Hell in Boracay.

I wish Boracay could look this serene everyday.

I just arrived from Boracay this morning. It was a sleepy 15-hour ride, and the Marlboro Adventure Team (MAT) Kick-Off Party that we worked on went quite well. There weren't too little people, and it wasn't jam packed either. Just right. Or at least that's what I think.

So many things happened this Holy Week, and Boracay for one is the worst place to be during this time of year, especially when you're a claustrophobic searching for some peace and quiet. Friends and I were joking, "Where's the 'holy' in Holy Week?" But well, God works in mysterious and surprisingly simple ways.

PACKING LIGHT FOR THE PACKING SUPER FERRY

To begin my story, I didn't want to bring too many things. The Island Caravan had special treatment on the RORO because of the organizers' association with the DOT. We breezed through long lines and left our luggage in the vans since they were also loaded into the ferry. With the news of riding Economy Class on the Super Ferry, however, packing light was the main goal. I brought a little Nike backpack and a North Face daypack for hand carry and prayed that things wouldn't be so bad.

Friendly photographer Edsel Ochoa and I met with Chanda and Joey (Who's a girl by the way) of the events group in Makati. The Wednesday morning traffic was horrible and the lines for inspection at Pier 4 were confusing because there was a huge mix up with where males, females and passengers with porters had to go. We followed instructions and lined up only to find out that Chanda and I were actually in the "male" line. A very rude male guard told us to move to the other line, but it was already so long. I kindly asked if he could just check our bags anyway, but he refused because they had to be opened and thoroughly inspected by the female guards, blah, blah, blah.

I totally understood, but what I didn't understand was why he had to be so rude. Sure he'd been standing there all morning, but we've all got to deal with crap every now and then. My temper was rising. I picked up my bag with such violence and yelled at him, slightly freaked out to hear my mother's voice in mine. We got behind the "female" line where I pulled aside a female personnel of higher rank for more serious chitchat. When I turned to check on Chanda, I found her staring at me, shocked to see me so angry for the first time. This was not a good way to begin our trip. I went from shy writer to fierce producer mode, babying my so-called crew.

We regrouped for boarding and were joined by 2 yayas of a friend, making us 6 in line. I blocked people who tried to cut in and I glared at people who kept pushing me from behind, sometimes I swallowed my temper and wore my shades because the place was just too much of a mess; and I started feeling that I was truly my mother's daughter, rolling my eyes at people who bumped me or walked in front of me without saying "excuse me" or "sorry".

Economy Class is a frightening sight at first. The deck was packed with rows and rows of yellow bunk beds, and people were filling them with bags, boxes, beddings and children. The bunk beds were in clusters of four, and Chanda, Joey and I were together on the top while the 2 yayas took the bottom. The space beside me was empty and I was dreading having to sleep beside a stranger. As a creative person, my imagination can get pretty wild sometimes. What if it was a man? A stinky, perveted man? What if he had chickens?! Luckily the passenger never arrived, so Edsel kept us company; and thank God he stayed with us because he had the biggest kikay kit, the biggest water bottle, and he was the only one with a roll of TP.

The bathroom was ok, until it got messy real quick. One sink was leaking, causing a flood towards the door. The second sink was clogged with tissue (The hell?!?!), and the third had only one working faucet. Hence, all the women in Economy Class shared one faucet. Plus there didn't seem to be an exhaust fan, so the air condition just kept blowing the smell of pee and poo all around.

It was kind of boring waiting for the boat to leave. We sort of played "boat-boat", watched people fill more beds and bought a box of cards. Snacks were expensive, so I opted to wait for my free dinner, but I couldn't help but feel jealous of the family beside us. The mother brought a huge bag of food: rice, chicken adobo, juice, and mangoes. I was daydreaming of bistek with banana, and a big bottle of Coke. Then I heard people hackling real loud, looking over the side of the boat. I went to see what the spectacle was, but what I saw was no laughing matter at all.

Children on a-la surf boards made of styrofoam fastened with wood and metal wires were paddling in the water, trying to catch coins thrown by passengers. Some coins landed in the water and the children dove for them and surfaced with the coins cradled in their hands. Now this was Manila Bay. It's black, it's stinky, it's teeming with garbage and God knows what. The children were swimming in guck for what we would think are measly Peso coins, and the crowd was enjoying this! Some passengers even threw the coins far off, just to watch the kids swim for them in desperation! It was just so wrong, one of the saddest things I've ever seen in my entire life. I mean what was this, a tourist attraction?! Stop laughing, you fucks!

I stood there for a long moment, staring at one child with malformed feet. He never dove for coins. He just sat there and stared back at me, not once asking for my money. Maybe he was asking for something else? My heart sank, as if I had just seen The Passion of the Christ all over again. So I walked back to my bed, played solitaire, read almost half of Prince Caspian and fell asleep.

Reading about another adventure in Narnia was a delight, but it couldn't quite replace the image of children swimming in black goo for coins, nor the guilt of having yelled at a guard, squirmed in the bathroom, or complained about packing light, when all these kids had were people throwing loose change at them for sport.

WHY ARE WE HERE AGAIN?

As Chanda and Joey called it, Economy Class was aircon, meaning "air continuous". We were smack in the middle of everybody and it was freezing at night, and we all curled up in our sarong cocoons and woke up hungry and cold. Good thing the yayas "downstairs" had goodies for breakfast. We docked at the Dumaguit Port in Panay at around 6:30am and hopped on a bus for a 2-hour ride to the Caticlan Port. The port was overflowing with travelers and upon seeing the fleet of bangkas, Chanda and I mumbled, "Why are we here again?" Paraws with Globe and Smart Addict logos were everywhere, and from afar the Boracay coastline looked like an ant colony. I gave a sigh of relief when we finally met with Abby, Chanda and Joey's boss, and settled in our house somewhere in the bundoks.

It belonged to Anika, a lovely woman who makes jewelry and digital creations mounted in earthy frames. Upstairs was a beautiful terrace and a bedroom with pretty lamps and decorative pieces from Thailand. My Mom came to mind because if she could have a house in the beach, this was how it would look and feel. The bathroom was the most interesting room of all. The ceiling covered only the shower and dresser, while the toilet sat in the garden with no ceiling nor curtain. Peeing in the semi outdoors was a little unnerving at first. Edsel kept shouting "Smile! Smile!" from the window upstairs. It was much scarier at night. Anika said that you can see the best moonrise from that toilet, but when the moon's already in place, all you see are imaginary eyes peeping over the wall. It was really creepy, but I got used to it eventually. I mean, it was still a bathroom. Just different.

After eating lunch in Tsikiting and purchasing a really unique journal from a Heritage store (I couldn't help it! Luho!), Abby put me to work right away in Real Coffee in Station 1. Run by a cheerful American named Nadine Rosaia, it became our headquarters for the day and I loved it. I loved feeling like a "writer". Not like I was writing anything that would change the world, but I loved writing near the beach...until the humidity got the best of me. No amount of watermelon shake, mango shake, coke, iced tea, and water could cool me down; and I didn't feel like eating, even if their brownies were supposedly the best on the island.

Night time was spent checking out the parties along the strip with friends from the agency and the sounds group. It reminded of me of how I used to study different sports programs and events when I was still with GamePlan. From Club Paraw in Station 1, we walked all the way to s Smart party in Bom-Bom (No reggae that night. So sad.), another party in Hey Jude, and s Globe party in Summer Place, all of which were located in Station 2. In between, bars and restos just had their usual beachfront setups with patches of people just hanging out on the beach smoking, drinking, making out and rolling in the sand. It was disgusting at times, and you can imagine my rage when I saw empty beer bottles and plastic cups and plastic bags left behind by the wretched monsters.

We walked a good 2 kilometers and back, studying setups, the crowds and the music. The Station 1 crowd was milder. Station 2 was wild with people dancing and drunk girls wobbling around. The wildest setup for me was Summer Place because it had lazer lights and a Rose in Sky light show and loud, loud music that could be heard maybe 3 kilometers down the coastline. From inside, the music sounded like that of a normal club, but when we checked the back, a tower of speakers facing the beach was booming. It was mad! And I was told that people from Caticlan, and Kalibo even, call in sometimes to turn the music down. Remember that the water around Boracay is fairly flat, so sound travels faster. Although I wasn't really worried about the residents on the mainland. I was worried about the Boracay locals. I paid a visit to Dagat's store beside Bom-Bom the next day. He was skim boarding somewhere, so I spoke with his wife and asked how their baby Awit handled all the noise the night before. She said, "Ay, di siya makatulog. Nakisayaw rin siya, awit nang awit!" :)

I spent the entire day in Club Paradiso and it took me a while to realize that it was the former Bazzura because it looked so, well, paradise like. I recognized the psychedelic dolphin mural by the bar, and the spot where I got a really bad sprain back in 2001. The beachfront was the location of the MAT party, so the production team began with their measuring and hammering.

With all this racket going on, I had almost forgotten that it was Good Friday. People were walking on the beach and praying the Pasyon, and their prayer leader had a megaphone, so everyone kept quiet as they passed by. It was surreal. I felt my tummy tumble because I was having bacon and eggs for breakfast, and I went out the night before, oblivious to the fact that it was Maundy Thursday. And even worse, I forgot about everything all over again! And had chicken adobo and sinigang na baboy for lunch!

My afternoon was pretty light. I met the hosts Marc Nelson, Olivia Richard, and our voice over man Jay Jay Sison, and we did some script run throughs and just talked about movies. Manny Distor, another TV host (and martial arts freak), was also with us for fun, so we had a blast making sound effects and imitating actors. I also met Patrick and Mike, Englishmen (I think) who owned Club Paradiso. Mike also happened to be Jay Jay's friend and fellow Frisbee player; so I threw a few discs with them on the beach and I was catching fairly well, but my throws really sucked. Mike had to keep fetching the disc from the water and whisking it dry. Later that day I found out that he was actually the technical director of Miss Saigon London and Philippines. Oh man! I was so embarrassed.

While waiting for dinner, Edsel and I sat at the bar which was actually a good place to watch for people whom you might know pass by. In the morning, I saw a whole barkada from my high school and I hugged all of them and said to Mahal, "Friends! Friends!" I saw surfer gal Drinie Aguilar in the afternoon and I hadn't seen that girl in years. Leq Yap also walked by and I was so amused by him because I had never seen in dress-down beach attire in my before.

Good Friday wasn't so bad. Not many parties went on that night. After a late dinner with the clients and the agency people, Abby and I headed home, passing for some medicine, cigarettes and beer along the way. I still had a lot of things to type up and print, but I wanted to take time to just veg and relax and drink my beer. I took a shower and I didn't care anymore that it was a peeping Tom's heaven; and after some TV, everyone fell asleep. I stayed up and worked 'til 2, then I just laid on the hammock and thanked God for a silent night.

I knew that I didn't go to Boracay to relax and enjoy. I wasn't exactly there to pray either (Although I wish I did pray more). I went there for work. It was kind of sad, especially when Mommy texted me, "How are you? Did you pray?" See, this was my first time to spend Holy Week away from my family. We usually stay at home and have movie marathons and I felt like this was my most sinful Holy Week ever because I wasn't with them. I didn't even sacrifice anything for Lent! And I forgot that Christ died at 3! But I tried to look at everything in a different way. I looked at how much I had been working since grad, how going home was always the best part of my day (or week!), and how much experience I've gained from my former job, and how much I was learning from being a freelancer. I didn't want to think that I'd sacrificed enough already, but, rather, that everything leads to something good, that everything is meant to be a certain way, no matter how awkward it feels. And at least now I can say that I never want to be away from my family again on Holy Week. I got a taste of it, and I'm thankful, but I didn't really like it. I didn't like not feeling that this certain week of the year was supposed to mean something.

It was 3am, and with all that in mind, I told myself, "Just one more day," and went to bed.

KEEP YOUR CHIN UP AND YOU'LL SEE.

By Saturday morning, the MAT party setup seemed to be taking more shape. I couldn't help out, though, because I was stuck inside Club Paradiso again with the laptop and printer. I was in my little "office" and the hosts and I had another run through, but this time with the clients. I made a few revisions to make things easier to remember (and to correct my stupid typos!), and after lunch I decided to take a beach break.

Now a beach break for me is sitting down, digging my toes in the sand and just being quiet, and maybe smoking a cigarette or two. I walked across and past the party construction hoping to find a private spot along the shore; but the island was swarming with people and I couldn't find one little itty bitty spot for rest. I walked around a bit but all the clutter was suffocating and I freaked out, wheezing and wobbling my way back to Club Paradiso. My claustrophobia hit its highest point and I couldn't believe it, because not in Edsa 2, nor in Ateneo, nor in La Salle Taft! had I have been that freaked out by a crowd.

I piled some pillows on this little platform and made "my space". Away from the production. Away from the clients. Away from everybody! I sat there making cue cards, thinking I was in an Art is-Kool shoot with Robert Alejandro just to make me calm down. Mike came by a few times and sat on the side saying, "Ah, so this is your new office. Don't worry! I'm just going to sit on the edge." Poor Edsel got the worst of me because I actually raised my voice at him, "Don't sit here! You're in my space!" I was dying. I even had to change from my stupid sarong to pants because "I can't work in a fucking skirt."

I finished the cue cards 2 hours later and I was proud. I never made cue cards before! Mike gave me a beer and I was in heaven, and Edsel's English friend Wendy came by and volunteered to be one of my assistants for the show. Ah God bless her. Another friend of his named Jovel, also a photographer, sat with us and shared his bag of green mangoes and salt. I went back to the beach for a while and said hello to my high school friends Patrick and Peachy who were taking a stroll. We had a mini photo-op and I felt happy. Really happy. Because I saw the sunset for a while and had a few laughs with old friends.

It was getting dark and things started to get stressful again, which usually happens right before an event begins. I left Wendy to attend to other things for me and I was running around looking for paper clips and what not. At a junction I found more high school friends getting a henna tattoo and I hugged them and kind of cried and laughed at the same time. Weird. When the gates to the MAT Party finally opened, I collected my stuff and walked to the sound booth with Wendy and kind of stood there and marveled at how the place looked. There was a climbing wall care of good ol' Joey Cuerdo from Power Up, a line of sprinklers hung across the dance floor, the stage was set, the lights were set, and a percussion band called Kadangyan was already jamming. I felt good about the place for maybe a minute, then I remembered I was the writer, and it was back to stress mode.

At the right side of the stage, I met Leo, one of the best bar tenders of Summer Place, and also another one of my loving assistants for the show. I took the headphones from him and, knowing me, I gave a big "wow, this is so cool" and put them on. But when I realized that 4 huge speakers were beside me, I gave an even bigger wow because everything was SO LOUD! And everyone was talking at the same time. I could hear Abby asking me, "Alia, can you hear me? Can you hear me?" I gave a silent scream and walked away from the speakers, but I was like a dog on a leash because the headset's cord only got me 4 meters from the booming noise. I confirmed with Abby and put a headband on to cover my ears and muffle some of the noise. I'm already partly deaf on my right ear but I didn't want my left to go bad as well. I conditioned myself for a bit and waited for Marc's cue to enter.

The hosts made their entrance and I think the program only lasted a good 10-15 minutes, just as we predicted. There were still raffles in between sets, so I stayed put to cue the bands, and to cue our vibrant and exotica fire breather Mikey. She was so cool, and she was smiling all the time, and after every act, I made sure that someone brought her some Sprite and water. Wendy kept me company, and Leo and I danced a bit behind this little tipi. He was so funny with his blonde Mohawk and humungous 70s shades, and Wendy was so sweet because she bought me a beer. So even if I was going deaf, I was pretty ok. A little disappointed that I was panicky with all the cuing and stuff, but it was my first time to work on a party like this, so the experience was worth it.

Finally we were given the go signal to actually party. Wendy and I went to the sound booth and got more beer and when the ringing in my ears eased up, I lined up for the climbing wall. My friend Jack was manning the wall from the top, so Joey Cuerdo decided to give me a challenge. The wall had 3 panels, but he only allowed me to climb the right side of the middle, not making use of the holds one either side. It looked really hard because it looked like one thin line, but I gave it a go and halfway to the top, crazy Jay Jay announced on the mic that I was climbing. Pressure. One bolt was high up and I couldn't reach it. I looked at Joey below, "I can't reach that," but he insisted that I could. I stretched for the little hold, made it past that and discovered that the next one was even harder. Jack was right above me giving me instructions, "Look up! Look up! Switch your feet and grab with both hands!" I switched my feet and hung from a big blue hold with both hands, swung my feet to a really high bolt and reached out for the next. The people below were cheering, and it was cool, but my arms were cramping up and I was ready to give. Jack literally had to lift me onto the platform, and I thanked him. Then I spanked him! Ang hirap! I rappelled down the other side and scolded Joey for giving me a tough time. But I hugged and thanked him because it was a good outlet for all the stress I felt that day. Fantastic.

We danced barefoot and it was great. The sprinklers were refreshing and I loved it when the lazer lights flashed on the little sprays. I danced on the amps and on this little "ledge" and we smoked and drank and gave the MAT a hiphiphoorah. I spun around with my face up, my eyes closed and my arms out, and I hopped and I sang as if nothing at all got me down that day. The party ended at around 4, a little early by Boracay standards, but I didn't care. I had no intentions of going to the other parties either, so after a beer with Mike and his friend, and a quick chat with two more high school friends, I went home and just crashed on my bed, all stinky and hardly drunk at all. Just dead to the world.

Easter morning was beautiful. It was quiet, and I didn't have a hangover, but my body felt gross. I took a shower, said goodbye to Abby, swiped some anklets in D' Mall for the GamePlan girls and bought breakfast in Jammers. I met with the other homeward bound people in Club Paradiso and we took a bangka back to Caticlan and a van to Dumaguit. The van was tight. I was seated in the second row with no headrest, so I sat on the floor, laid my head on my seat and took a 40-minute power nap. Waiting 3 hours to get on the Super Ferry was a little stressful. We hadn't had lunch and it was so hot, but I felt better when we boarded because our bunk beds were in a more secluded area at the side of the ferry. I took to the top again and kind of stretched my limbs and cracked my joints. Olivia, Manny, and Nina and Macveen from the production design group visited our bunk, and we took pictures and pictures with silly faces and stupid themes. Sigh, I had so much fun, and I couldn't believe that we were actually going home.

A bit later, I took out my sarongs and spread them on the mattress. I was exhausted. My back was slouchy and I could hardly keep my head up. I wasn't that confident about my work, and I felt bad about not exactly doing my Catholic duries. I wanted to take one last look at the ocean before dozing off and it took a little effort from my neck. But when I looked out, wow, this beautiful sunset caught me off guard and all my aches, pains and woes disappeared. There was God light everywhere, shining on the clouds and sparkling in the water. As cheesy as it is, it's all true. Sometimes it's the simplest of things that can lift your heart and make you smile like you haven't smiled in ages.

I stared at the sun for a long time and thanked the heavens for giving me work. I pulled out my new journal and did my best to draw the sunset, and although my drawing sucked, I was happy. This was my reward. The time to draw, the time to breathe, the time to watch the sun go down after such a busy run. And finally I could see the sky and the ocean without any people zooming in and out of frame, without branded boats and umbrellas getting in the way, and without any loud music to drive me insane. It was just the sun, the clouds meeting the ocean in the horizon, and the steady sound of the wind, slowly putting me to sleep. Aw, God is so cool.

Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am home again.
Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am whole again.

- Love Song by The Cure

*Photo by Edsel Ochoa. I'll get you, Ochoa!!!"

Posted 5:48 PM by Alia Vargas