Sandalwood & Chamomile

Ampay. (a gleeful enjoyment of an activity or object.)
Palis. (afternoon from about 1pm to 4pm)
Subawan. (verb, to experience minor cold and cough due to sudden change of weather.)
Hakot. (pesky biting tiny black ants that hang on to your skin and crawl over your body but do not leave red raised bite marks. My aunt says they just circle around a spot on your skin, which feels like a bite. There were plenty on the stairs leading up to the main door of the house. My aunt again thinks they were trying to get shelter in the house and avoid the rainstorm.)

I now use confidently these words I had never heard before my recent trip. I know what they mean. And I even said them with a noticeable Southern Cebu accent. Papa called me on my cell phone (with my local Globe number) and remarked on how quickly I took on the accent. I excitedly told him that it came as soon as I heard the accented speech of my relatives.

I put him on the speaker phone. My grandmother and my aunt could hear him clearly. Lola said it was as if Papa was just right outside the house talking to them. So near yet so far. As my Papa's cousin said, If only America were as easy to visit.

During this trip, I found myself learning new words, testing them in everyday conversations, mulling over possible etymologies. I had wonderfully stimulating discussions on politics and weather systems and the English language with my uncle's family, who are educators. I found that my old friends have been maturing, dealing with more difficult topics such as politics, graduate school, health and ethics, and serious love commitments. But it was also a time to reminisce and talk of the good old days when we used to be content with a 5-peso weekly allowance (wait, that was my allowance and theirs were a lot larger). And crushes and puppy loves.

I heard my maternal grandpa tell more of the WWII-era love story between him and my late grandma. I saw him get giddy over his memory of his red-lipped, voluptuous, charming and smart first wife. I was the receiving end of his light-hearted warning: Don't finish all your airline food if you want to look like Korean Air flight attendants.

I got caught in the dance between the storms Lando and the much stronger Mina. One day the weather was good enough that we were able to enjoy a cooler day on the white sands of the beach. The next day, my boat was the only one allowed to brave the rough waves to Leyte. The situation was precarious enough that I thought I was going to have to be stranded Pier 3, too far from my relatives in Lapu-Lapu City. But I reached Leyte the next morning (Thank you Lord), greeted by a pretty strong wind. Then the next few days were picture perfect. I was able to travel without rain to Tacloban, fly to Manila with my plane bathed in the warm afternoon sun, and walk the dry streets of nighttime Makati with my friends. Still, I was glad to say bye to Mina and Lando and Nonoy (and to the horrible headache quite possibly from trying to drink soju just like the characters in Korean dramas).

The two weeks off was great. While I have missed home, Mama, Papa, and my siblings, I write this entry already looking forward to my next trip. For me, it's not just the destination that counts, I truly enjoy the actual journey, be it on ferry, plane, bus or tricycle.

Written by Gail T. at 8:59 PM |    
Filed under being Pinoy, recollections, travel