KALIBO: Sleeping in a shuttle (Part 2 of 4)

KALIBO: Memories, shuttles and strangers

I arrived in Kalibo around 2:40 pm. I wrote the details down and even if this serves at posterity et journal, I will keep those notes to myself.

I rode the tricycle to the jeepney terminal to Caticlan. After haggling about the fare, I managed to get one who lowered the fare down to P20 less. He suggested I take the shuttle instead of the jeepney. I felt he was lying, but I was in such a hurry I didn’t mind. The shuttle cost P20 more, but faster. Time was my only treasure. Arriving two days later than my friends, I could not afford to lose more time for this trip.

I was third to fill the van. They needed 11 or 12, so I knew I was to wait a bit longer. So much for that P20. A guy sat at the far corner of our row. He looked decent and posed no threat.

“Kuya, anong oras na?” (“Big brother, what time is it?”)

He must be deaf. He didn’t reply. He just felt his puruntong and said a curse word in English before muttering to himself that he left his cellphone. He alighted the van and took a tricycle. I think he went back home. Good for him I asked for the time. Bad for us, we had to wait for another passenger.

10 minutes passed and the same kuya came back. He sat at his side of our row again and smiled. “You were asking for the time? It’s 2:45 (not the exact time I forget kasi).” I said thanks.

The van was slowly filled and he had to move beside me. My bag was taking up space so he put half of it on his lap. Then it was time for me to pray. He didn’t mind. We chatted for a while, with me slightly letting off the fact that I had been visiting Kalibo and Boracay before. I slept during most of the trip. I only woke up whenever I felt the vibrations of my cellphones to receive Ch’s texts or my mom’s calls. I would also wake up whenever we would pass by areas where my dad blasted the rocky mountainsides.

First sight of water

With the first sight of water around 4:32 pm, vacation mode kicked in. I was giddy already. I never slept again. Kuya was in his deep slumber and a few minutes more, we were in the Caticlan port.

The girls I saw during my check-in back in Manila were also there. I wondered if they took a shuttle somewhere else. I looked for traces of the Britons. Zero. The girls were lining up for the ticket. Kuya was gone. The lady guard politely told me to buy my tickets (yes, tickets) when I tried entering the post without one. I had to buy at windows 1, 2 and 3. Yes, windows 1, 2 and 3. I saw kuya again. He was queuing on window 1. I asked him where the windows were. He made a gesture that he was lining up to it. I cannot write here the favor I received, but I really thanked kuya because I only paid a small amount for the boat ride. More than half actually. He, apparently, was going to Boracay as well. I followed him to the pump boat. Crossing the small makeshift bridge to the boat, I handed him my luggage. “Parang close na tayo ah,” (“You act as if we’ve known each other for ages!”) he commented but he had no choice but to take my bag. I sat in the second row and kuya went to the back row. I think he got mad at me. I didn’t care. I was getting closer to Boracay.

From Cra's FB

Boracay: Flying Fish, Slammer’s Burger and sand

Earlier, Ch texted me that they’d do the Flying Fish ride. I said I was expected to arrive around 5:30 anyway so they could go ahead. I didn’t know what that was. If I did, I would have begged them to wait for me.

Everyone alighted at Station 1. There was only one station now, unlike before. I waited for everyone to go down before seeing kuya approaching me to get my bag (up to this moment, I still didn’t know his name). “Let’s go.” He wasn’t mad at me after all.

I was supposed to go to Station 2, D*Mall, where everyone was already waiting for me. Kuya and I walked towards the gate of the port.

“Aren’t we supposed to take a tricycle?” Kuya was going to this Holiday Hotel, a few minutes away from D*Mall.

“Yes, but I prefer that.” He motioned for one of the single motorcycles to come.

OK. I know what you’re thinking. Why should I ride that when I could get a tricycle? Well, a tricycle has to have 5 people in it before it can go. If you’re in a hurry, you will have to pay for every vacant seat. That’s P20/seat. Times 5. You do the math. I didn’t have P20 for inexistent passengers.

There was no helmet, so I hesitated, but for the sheer feeling of travelling frugally, I managed to conquer any fear and hopped on.

“Kuya, this is illegal in Manila!” I screamed at the driver as he sped through the road.

“Well, you’re not in Manila!”

My kuya friend got down to his hotel, and I almost got hit by an incoming bike. I continued my journey to D*Mall. I didn’t catch kuya’s name. I am so good at connecting to people. I don’t even know his face. He was wearing shades most of the trip. I think I can recognize him if he wears the same shirt. But I forget that as well.

I called Ch to say I was in Boracay already. Basically, the conversation went on like this:

“I’m here. Where are you. Can you find me a place where I can watch the game?”

“(Gibberish). We’re here at (gibberish).”

“Where?”

“Here at (gibberish).”

“Where?”

“Slammer’s Burger.”

“Slammer’s Burger. OK.”

“No! Slammer’s Burger.”

“OK. Slammer’s Burger.”

“No! Slam-mer’s Burg-er.”

“OK! Slammer’s Burger!”

“No!”

I hung up. “Text me,” I texted her. It was driving me nuts.

I asked one guard, who was very friendly, where Slammer’s Burger was. He pointed me to a direction. No Slammer’s Burger. I asked another one. Pointed to another direction. I went there. No Slammer’s Burger. I approached a couple of tinderas (vendors).

“Jammer’s Burger?” they blindly asked me back.

“No, Slammer’s?”

“No Slammer’s. Only Jammers.”

It was fronting the beach. I got so tired that I threatened no one I’d just sit down there, put down my things and camp. No more hotels with friends. I was getting annoyed.

“We’re here at Bite Club,” Ch texted. I repeated the process, got lost a bit somewhere before GnA accidentally saw me and muttered a small curse.

I dropped my bag and ran to them. Seeing them after all the travelling alone was very much welcomed. I wanted to embrace them all!

“Hi, Ike! Can you fix this camera?”

They obviously missed me.

Part 1: Manila to Kalibo Flight

Part 2: Kalibo to Caticlan

Part 3: In and around Boracay

Part 4: Boracay to Manila

Extras: Jet Ski Experience

           Cheap Transportation to Boracay

           Boracay: Then and Now

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Lonely Whale

I've heard of lonely people. I've heard of lonely planet. But I've never heard of a lonely whale. This is disquieting, not really in the deepest sense, but I wonder if this whale is suicidal. Humans tend to think of death when faced with utmost sorrow.

I wonder if this whale is aware of her flaw. If the scientists had to follow her for years to find out, I wonder if she has the right knowledge to lead her to her epiphany.

I pity her. But then again, some humans are bound for more misery.

Please read here for the information.

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Boracay: First and Last Night (Part 3 of 4)

First and last night: Cooold water, no game, Pearl Harbor, best friend bonding, earthquake

No game was aired. I was looking forward to watching the football game in Boracay, but it was impossible. We took photos of the sunset and took a dip later in the afternoon. The water was cold. My body felt bad immediately. But the water was so nice I didn’t mind. We heard of an earthquake occurring in Manila. Personally, I didn’t mind. Some of them did. No calls from my mom, so I knew it was dismissible. Her calls are my alert warnings. Very entertaining. Especially whenever she puts in something theatrical in her texts, highlighting her being histrionic. Afterwards, we headed back to the hotel, showered and watched Pearl Harbor. Edl kept on going back to our room to ask us to go already.

“But I wanna know who will die!” cried Ch.

Hartnett died

“Someone will die?” I grumbled.

“Yesss.”

“Guys! You didn’t go to Boracay to watch Pearl Harbor!” Edl protested.

“But, I’ve never finished any movie! This is my chance!” Ch continued.

We were unmoved ‘til the end of the film, where Hartnett died. Oops. (Oh, c’mon. You must have watched it already! You’re not, well, us.)

Supper was done in a fancy restobar. I didn’t eat, because Rlf earlier gave me ¼ of their lunch at Jammers Burger. I ate it and it was huge enough to last me two more days. I was good. The kamatis tasted nasty though. It was like felt paper in my mouth.

Everyone was almost done when Ch and I arrived with Mnq and Rlf. When it was time to order their drinks, I walked away. It was also time for my evening prayer and I prayed at the beach. It was super nice. I walked back to get the camera.

“I’ll just shoot.” Before they let me go, we did some more picture-taking. Ch went with me. We walked around to look for food. She was hungry and felt that the food there cost ¼ of a plane ticket. We saw the fire dance. I took lots of photos and we headed back to a grilling station, Ch bought a hotdog stick. So Boracay. We looked for rice. We went back to the restobar and asked for one order. P35 per serving. We walked away.

Boracay moon

We went as far as D*Mall Plaza to look for cheap rice. We got nothing. She just ate her hotdog as is. Then we took photos and walked all the way to Station 1. I recounted to her my memories of Boracay. How it felt weird to be back. We sat on the beach and talked about everything. It was a nice bonding with my best friend. The last time we were together in a beach was when I turned 16.

Some foreigners (drunk ones) played around near us. A girl was screaming etc. Small brawl. I wanted to sleep on the beach.

Sittin on the Station 1 beach (How come it looks brownish?)

Ch and I headed back. No one was around anymore. We saw them buying shawarma somewhere. We found it too expensive and bought cup noodles instead. I was aching for coffee. We saw a Starbucks outlet. We went to a sari-sari store and bought a 3-n-1 sachet.

Everyone headed back to the hotel to eat and have some bonding. No drinks. We ate chichiryas (junk food) and our hot cup noodles. Past 11, and everyone was zombie tired. We slept before 12.

It was my first and last night.

Part 1: Manila to Kalibo Flight

Part 2: Kalibo to Caticlan

Part 3: In and around Boracay

Part 4: Boracay to Manila

Extras: Jet Ski Experience

           Cheap Transportation to Boracay

           Boracay: Then and Now

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A break from my holiday posts: POVERTY

I am currently viewing a website for the Philippine elite. It makes me think, "My God, where have all those rich people come from." It makes me wonder whether I am living in the wrong Philippines. Must be have been dreaming for decades. And to think that I came from this "elite" university and sat beside children and grandchildren of these creatures, the reality of their existence only caught up with me just now.

Blame it on the weather or the different news coming in nowadays in my twitter feed, (or my overhearing my publisher over the conference table)  but the catching up is disheartening. Not for me, but for those I see everyday on my way home (I do not at all dismiss the fact that I not poor, I can't lie about it).

I thought the meaning of bourgeois is "high class" or anyone at the topmost level of the societal caste. I was wrong. Miriam-Webster defines it as "characteristic of the social middle class." So I don't know how to call the upper class anymore. I feel more alienated from them now, like they're untouchable altogether.

But these websites serve their purpose. They make wealth something to desire and be depressed with. People, me not excluded, enjoy these sites.

No need to call me anti-elite or fake revolutionary anti-rich. I am positive that in the near future, the light year gap between the rich and the poor will be narrowed drastically. Looking forward to that. But for now, I shall read more on the Tatler.

UPDATE: I read in an article that the poorest countries in the world became rich by a notch. Here's the article.

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Boracay: Flight to Kalibo (Part 1 of 4)

Before I go on with my continuation of the series of blog entries dedicated to this paradise called Boracay, let me give you glimpse of a flashback. It dates back to the early 2000. The day was completed by a sip of fruit juice from this local restaurant called Jonah’s. It served fruit juices and shakes. The rest of the earlier hours were dedicated to island hopping and sailing late in the afternoon to watch the sunset.

“One can actually enjoy this place in one day,” said I, who, in my high school brain, was getting bothered with teenage ennui. “It’s possible. Just get the earliest flight, schedule all the activities ahead, and leave in the latest flight possible.”

This principle rang in my head for years.

Hence, my quick flight to Boracay.

My itinerary was scheduled on March 21, 1:30 pm. It was marked in my planner ages ago without me knowing what was in store for me this March (A.C.T.S. etc). I was to meet Ch and the rest of the “gang” in Boracay, in the middle of their own itinerary that I originally had nothing to do with. They got there Saturday, two days ahead. I was coming in Monday.

My flight back was Tuesday. 6:30 pm.

NAIA TERMINAL 2: Girls, boys, a book and smoke

I got to NAIA Terminal 2 around 11:30 am. Way too early for my flight. The reasons are so irritating to recount, I dare not try to write them down. I checked in behind a group of Filipinas, barkadas obviously, who almost wore bikinis to the airport already. What slightly annoys me in a group of friends is that it creates a faux sense of power to everyone in the group. Like they own any place they set foot in, provided they do it together. I’m guilty of this. That’s why I don’t like it when I’m alone and the group does not include me.

I sat at the farthest corner of the boarding area as possible. I sat opposite a San Miguel engineer who was in his mid 40s and forced myself to read. I brought Bonifacio’s Bolo with me, probably to inspire me to write for the trip. But with too much historical ranting and I was walking around T2 again.

A few minutes after the call to board, as I was walking towards gate 8, I saw smoke near the runway. No one paid attention. Apparently, I was the only one who actually thought fire on runways is bad. I looked around to convince myself that at least one soul saw it. No one. Every one went about their businesses like it was a typical flight day. Maybe I was the weird one. When I got to the boarding gate, a group of Britons (a group of around 7) lined up in front and behind me, sandwiching me between them tall boys. I was fifth to the last and felt small around them.

Check the article about the fire here.

Having checked in a bit early, I had the choice to sit at the window side. It was an advantage I never wanted to miss. Being too excited the previous night, having had a short appointment very early in the morning, I looked forward to taking at least a 20-minute nap on the plane. I’m not particularly window-crazy, but seeing where I’m going is also nice. At least the next time I fly back, I can tell the pilot we’re going the wrong way if ever.

The Brit guys were starting to become unbearably noisy in front and behind me.

But when I got to my seat number, two ladies were already sitting in our row, and being banged by the Brits around me (pardon the language, please), I couldn’t manage to reach my seat. Lady 1 asked me if I preferred the window seat, to which I curtly replied, “I prefer none. You’re free to take it.” It wasn’t a lie, I have to say. It was the truth. Though I questioned her question, I didn’t care anymore because the guys were causing too much disturbance raucously looking for their own seats, and I wanted to just sit down and be quiet for my sake. Good job to me, the moment we all settled down, I realized they were all seated around me.

No offense to my UK friends, the best non-Filipino people I know are all from UK, but the guys were so rowdy during the whole trip that I didn’t remove my shades to hide my eyes from rolling. The guy behind me kept on kicking (unintentionally) my seat (his legs were too long I kind of pitied him) and kept on saying so many green jokes.

I made a friend, my seatmate, who was nice enough to bear the noise around us casually. I met her again during our last-minute shopping in D*Mall Plaza, but I forget her name now. So much for friendship.

Part 1: Manila to Kalibo Flight

Part 2: Kalibo to Caticlan

Part 3: In and around Boracay

Part 4: Boracay to Manila

Extras: Jet Ski Experience

           Cheap Transportation to Boracay

           Boracay: Then and Now

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I phone. You?

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Jet Ski: More than a ride

It was not my idea, but it was my long-time dream. I have been salivating over it ever since I set foot on the island. Never tried it. Always wanted it. Thanks to GnA's passion, I only paid a small percentage of its already discounted price.

We were supposed to check out at 12, but the other room extended to 3 pm so we had three more hours to do anything. The idea was that GnA, Ch and I were to share the allotted time, with GnA taking 10 minutes alone. He paid for 3/4 of everything anyway so it was logical and fair.

Ch, Cra, Nki, GnA

We paid at their office the full amount. It was a few yards from our hotel. GnA and I went upstairs and chatted with one kuya there, while waiting for the next guide to pick us up. I asked kuya about kite surfing. I told him I want to learn and try it. Then GnA and I thought about surfing. I told him about Rsh' adventure in Ilocos but the waves are only good ‘til May. Then the conversation shifted back to kite surfing. All of our questions were answered by the casual kuya. He was good natured and was kind enough to tell us about the instructor who died last year because of an accident, which made GnA and I shrug and thought twice about trying any other water sport. Then we asked about the safety of the Jet Ski thing. OK, corny. It was just a Jet Ski, but we had to at least ask. We were assured by kuya. GnA has ridden a Jet Ski before and asked if the controls were the same. No they're not anymore.

"The former controls make things worse. In a case of a crash, the driver would accelerate instead of stopping right before the moment of impact. So they changed it." Good. At least we don't have to undergo their old ways. It’s easier to break before colliding against another Jet Ski. Perfect.

Speed boat to the floating dock

We had to take a multi-cab to Station 1 to meet-up with the speed boat that would take us to the Jet Ski area. Cra and Rx went with us to take pictures from the floating dock. All five of us sped through the clear waters of Boracay at the height of the sun's heat. We got there in less than 2 minutes and alighted in the floating bamboo dock where we were greeted by the kuyas operating the whole thing. We sat on one of the benches and watched as the rest of the "drivers" played on top of the water. I saw one kuya holding a Sony HD camera. "Huwaw, sosyal!" I muttered to Ch as she noticed the same thing as well. He was filming for a couple (a foreign guy with a Filipina-looking girl holding on to him). We got our floaters and one kuya particularly enjoyed strapping them on to me. I slightly pushed him away and did it myself.

Still hesitating at first

That kuya invited us to test our floaters by jumping to the water. I first hesitated, fearing I might get too tired to climb up again since the crazy waves during the sail took most of my energy. I could barely walk. I just wanted to sit. But I still jumped in, following GnA who was already floating away all the stresses of the remaining few hours in the island.

The first to ride were GnA and I. Ch was still conditioning herself, in a continuous trance of hesitation to ride it. I think I just pressured her into coming with me. I felt bad, but I knew she'd enjoy. I was ecstatic. One kuya rode with us first. He taught us how to operate it, telling us the dangers and the areas that we were allowed to drive in. GnA was sitting directly behind him and understood everything. I couldn't hear much because of the waves and my distance from kuya. I think he said something about falling off the water or crashing on to other drivers. Something about it being our fault if we die or something. I was hesitant to hold on to GnA at first, but my grip kind of increased. I muttered a small prayer and recalled Peter on top of the water. If he could do it without floaters, why couldn’t I. So I started to let loose. A bit.

Kuya left after a semi-circle trip within the allowed area. Clockwise. We were not allowed to do otherwise. GnA, the moment kuya stepped off and felt I was secured enough behind him, accelerated crazily within seconds. I screamed at him. He couldn't hear me, of course. I held on to him harder. He might have forgotten I was there. A big wave hit us. I hit him hard on his nape.

Enjoying it with GnA

"Are you doing that on purpose?"

"Just hold on!"

He was insane. Then I remembered I was supposed to not fear anything. I mean, I paid for it. The thrill of it was the main ingredient of the ride.

"This is buoyant anyway right?"

"Yes."

Floating until the next free Jet Ski was back

I thought hard at this.

"O well. Go on. Do as you wish."

He was slow on some parts but each time we passed by the floating dock, he would increase speed to "show them." I held on as he increased speed. Then as he was enjoying it, and I was relaxing a bit, he stopped and told me it was time to switch.

"Now?"

"Yes."

He stood up and sat behind me. I was kind of nervous at first. He taught me the accelerator and the break. The only two things I needed to know. I rest could be forgotten.

Kuya teaching us first

"OK. Here we go."

I think I spent 30 seconds trying to feel the thing until I felt what GnA felt when he was trying to fly me off earlier. I increased speed. Increased all the more and felt the liberating feeling of driving without speed limits and other vehicles on your way. The only thing that bothered us was the size of the waves. It was mid noon already and the large waves that hit us during our morning sail were nothing compared to the new ones coming in.

We almost overturned as I never took into account the waves when accelerating.

"Nice! Nice!" I heard GnA calling from behind me and it was a license to go faster. I finished a couple of rounds and thought of Ch.

"Don't be too fast on her please."

"Yes."

GnA showing off (haha)

Parking the Jet Ski was harder than I thought. I couldn't do it to the point that the kuyas were frantic at getting at us, and I slightly crashed into the speed boat nearby. A small whole was bored into our Jet SKi and everyone was furious. I got off and calmly sat down.

Ch replaced me and GnA repeated the process. I was scared for her first, but from what I saw, GnA was true to his word. They weren't challenging the waves that much.

My turn to try to kick GnA off the Jet Ski

When it was time for Ch to drive, we saw them switch. Then the kuyas with us became agitated and two of them jumped into the nearby speed boat. One Jet Ski seemed to have overturned. If we didn't see Ch and GnA switching places, we would have thought it was them. It was a Korean couple, I think. I wasn't thinking anymore. I lay down the bamboo floor and just relaxed. I knew Ch and GnA were safe.

After a couple of rounds, GnA brought Ch to the dock and had the vehicle on his own. He looked like he was enjoying and the kuyas signaled him that the time was up. We couldn't believe it. It felt too soon to be 30 minutes. But GnA was parking the Jet Ski already so I suppose he accepted the fact it was over.

Ch and I jumped to the water again. The water felt nice because it was cool to the body.

Notice the hole at the bottom left (hihi)

One kuya kept on bothering me. He said he saw me before. Clueless, I said maybe. I shouldn't have said that. I thought he really knew me since I lived in Kalibo for a couple of summers and have been to Boracay a couple of times. I asked him where he lived. He said in the island itself. False assumption. He wasn't from Kalibo. I shut up. He jumped into the speed boat with us and bothered me along the way. GnA teased me. I wanted to punch him in the face (kuya not GnA).

GnA teaching Ch

What a way to end the trip. I asked GnA and Ch if we could buy a Jet Ski. We could use it in Manila Bay. And, as expected, no one took me seriously.

Part 1: Manila to Kalibo Flight

Part 2: Kalibo to Caticlan

Part 3: In and around Boracay

Part 4: Boracay to Manila

Extras: Jet Ski Experience

           Cheap Transportation to Boracay

           Boracay: Then and Now

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Boracay: Then and Now

Boracay frisbee

Unless you just want to relax, don’t go to Boracay. It is not a place to do that. There are plenty of other beaches in the Philippines for that. I am not ruling it out for lazy sunbathing though. If you are for the appreciation of nature, Boracay is a perfect contender. But you shouldn’t miss out on the things you can do there as well.

I went there alone. Just like most of my trips, I took a flight alone. To review Boracay, I had to jump in a group of friends who already planned their four-day vacation there.

For a couple of summers, my parents had made it a habit to bring me to Kalibo every vacation. It dates back to the time my father had a huge blasting project for the road construction from Kalibo to Caticlan. It was also my first time to hear the blasts from the rocky mountains. Our house was not in Boracay itself. It was in Habana, a couple of hours away from Caticlan, the port for the boats going to Boracay. My first encounter of Boracay is mired by immaturity. All I remember of it is that one picture of two foreign girls walking near the beach topless. My dad posed and my mom took a picture of it. It hangs in one of my parents’ collection of photos of old projects for the company. Until now, I wonder why Boracay had its reputation for such liberty. Did they think (looking back) that we (Filipinos) were of such innocence that we do not formulate evil thoughts in our heads upon seeing their, well, exposed upper bodies.

Then and now

I had a couple of other trips to the island with the latest one in 2000. A decade ago. Imagine my shock to know so much has changed. From the early 90s Boracay I knew, to the one I met in 2000 to this one. I will try with my utmost vigor, to present a picture of how Boracay has transformed.

One can easily sink into relaxation mode anytime

90s: Simple Getaway

My dad told me yesterday that he didn’t want to go back. He had grown so sick of it already. He had a house there. I can only imagine him waking up every morning seeing the pristine colors of the beach. I get him. Must be truly sickening.

There were not many resorts during my dad's reign. You can go there, set up a picnic mat and have a family lunch by the beach. The tourists were nonchalant of Filipinos’ existence. Like I mentioned earlier, anyone can freely walk topless anytime. People didn’t bother. No one took videos (except us who did take a photo). No one cared. It was like a famous secluded beach. You can enjoy its sanctity. It was basic, pure and simple. It was a perfect getaway, the word, being true to its purest sense.

Early 2000: Booming Tourism

We went back in a more luxurious stance, so the experience was tainted with money. We checked in an expensive hotel by Station 3. The hotel, though expensive, was a minute walk from the beach itself. It was mid April, the height of the summer. We booked late. Every hotel one could see in Yellow Pages was fully booked. We tried to get in another 5-star hotel (one of the only few then) that stood right in front of the beach, but the rooms were ugly. And we needed three. They only had one free for the remaining days.

Since I was with older people (family, friends, our beloved Jeo, etc) we only did island hopping (P1000 per boat) and sailing (P1000 per hour I think). Jeo knew how to sail so he took over a few minutes after we left the shore.

There were more resorts by then compared to the early years. But you could still see some vacant lots. Shangri-La wasn’t constructed yet. The tourist number has increased though. But not too significant to the point of choking anyone. We enjoyed hanging out in this simple shakes bar called Jonah’s Fruitshake. It was near Coco Mangas. It was made of nipa. It had an enclosed space where anyone can enjoy their drinks without being burned by the sun’s rays. One also had the choice to put a mat or towel outside, where you can relax and they can serve your drinks there. To the right was the shady part, with a coconut tree providing its shadow to anyone who would gladly relax underneath it. To the right were some wooden reclining chairs. We liked it there. We would sit there from lunch ‘til late afternoon.

Boats could also be seen everywhere. They were parked in every possible space. The view would even be blocked by the annoying boats. My friend and I used to hide behind these boats whenever we would change into our bathing suits before we ran to the water.

The station names (Stations 1, 2 & 3) originated from the fact that the pump boats would arrive at three different spots. Arriving at any station, the porters will either carry your things or carry you if you don’t like to be wet at an early part of your arrival.

There was a place for yachts. Jeo parked his yacht there one time, when he sailed to Boracay (not with us). It was near a restaurant that I forget the name.

Boracay also had a booming food industry. There was this really cool Indian restaurant that we particularly enjoyed. It was genuine. I don’t know what I mean by that. We had to sit on big sandy pillows. It was my first exposure to the pita bread. The ceiling had colorful Indian sarongs that served as decoration. It was beautiful, the very reason why I started dreaming of going to India someday.

Boracay Shirt

2011: Commercialization

I’ve heard of rumors. "Boracay is different. Boracay’s not the one you knew. Boracay’s not the same." I had to find out myself. Boracay is Boracay.

I suddenly felt the longevity of the trip from Kalibo to Caticlan. I realized that it was faaaar. I never noticed before. Now, since I am paying for my own fare, I felt that it was expensive. The trip took 1 hour 45 minutes. I slept through most of it, except during the times when I would wake up to see the highway my dad made.

Arriving at the island, I was greeted by only one boat station. That was my first shock. I asked someone if I was to alight there, the kuya said yes. “Are there no other stations?” The answer was no.

I took a single motorcycle to D*Mall. I arrived there 5 minutes later. Never taking off my sunglasses, I walked into what appeared to me a different Boracay. There were shops everywhere. I never really entered the mall proper, but the D*Mall Plaza was already a feat to the eyes. Groups huddled together. I was alone. I immediately looked for the burger chain Ch texted me to meet them in.

The shades provided protection. Not from the sun, but from anyone seeing me peeking at them. Everything felt otherworldly. The people were not Filipinos anymore. There were Caucasians, lots and lots of Asians and Middle Eastern people, and other Latinos and Latinas. The plaza reminded me of a scene in a movie, a Latin American movie. I just don’t know what.

I arrived at the beach, because I was lost. Another shock came. The beach had no boats! Everyone was free to walk around a spacious shore line. The sun was setting already. Benches were set out to accommodate sleeping people (not really). People with DSLRs walked around like ants. So many people! So many! Seriously!

I met the group somewhere completely different from the burger house Ch told me. After meeting, saying hellos and expressing surprises, we went to the beach and I immediately shifted to the photographer mode. They begged me to change and we went to the hotel so I could put my things in our room. The hotel was another surprise. Before, I never noticed “cheaper” hotels near the beach. Our previous hotel was around a minute walk from the beach. Ours now was near the beach! And it was cheap! It was perpendicular to the beach and was fronting another hotel. There were no vacant lots anymore, and the place was filled with so many shops offering anything from scuba equipment to boiled corn.

There was an increase in restaurants and bars. They are everywhere. There were sari-sari stores as well.

On my first (and last night), Ch and I walked along the beach. I wanted to reach Station 1 and she acquiesced. Since every possible space was filled with hotels and resorts, if not stores and souvenir shops, we had to cross the waters to reach it, but it was low tide already so we didn’t get wet.

The new Jonah's

Seeing my favorite Jonah’s almost made me cry. I gasped at its concrete façade and increased space. It was elevated and had a fast food feel. It was well-lit and the wooden chairs were replaced with modern ones. It was night already so I don’t know if one could still set up a mat outside to sunbathe and drink a shake. I suppose yes, but it was so modern, I didn’t know what to feel.

Coco Mangas was different as well. It appeared smaller. Now I know I am unreliable with sizes. But it has changed. I just can’t describe how.

Before leaving for Boracay, I read an article about the dying traditions of sandcastles in Boracay. I felt bad, but had to know it myself. That night, I never saw one. Normally, they appear on weekends before, but there was none when I got there. The closest I saw was this sand art that looked unmanned and I took a picture of. Then a boy jumped out of nowhere and asked me for a donation. He appeared jolly, and I teased him.

The boy and his art: a few of the dying sand art in Boracay

“Do I have to donate?”

“Yes, ma’am, because you took a picture,” as if it donating was compulsory.

Ch gave him coins. I had nothing. We sat in the beach and chatted.

The next day, we did some water activities. I don’t know before, for I really did not notice, but there are more activities now. The group rode the Flying Fish ride before I got there. I’ve never heard of that before. Plenty other activities are new. I’ve never heard of a glass boat before. There’s also this head scuba diving thing. So many things to do. Made me want to stay longer, but of course, I had other priorities. One day was enough.

Flying fish ride (photo from Cra's FB)

I am not in the position to react negatively (or positively) to the changes I witnessed all these years. Boracay is a beautiful place, regardless if it be commercialized (which is good for the economy) or secluded, it has a lot to offer to different people who go there for different reasons. Pretty much like the currents surging in from an incoming tide, all I can do is be swept by it. It is a beautiful surge. Fighting it would be a waste of energy.


Part 1: Manila to Kalibo Flight
Part 2: Kalibo to Caticlan
Part 3: In and around Boracay
Part 4: Boracay to Manila
Extras: Jet Ski Experience
           Cheap Transportation to Boracay

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