Packed and ready to go! See you soon? Whatever, let me bid you goodbye, fare thee well, bon voyage, adieu, adios, auf wiedersehen, paalam so on and so forth.
Why do I have to go through this ritual every time a strong man picks up the balikbayan box?
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Hopefully, the surreal release from caged boredom will come.
By air, land or sea, it will soon be time to go out, explore and feel the essence of novel sights and sounds. It will soon be time to renew and strengthen the bond that links individuals with people, places and events.
Say travel, think bucket lists. Moving around is more than just an experience. It creates and brings back precious moments and unforgettable memories.
Why do I always gently pat the tampipi when a hulk picks up the balikbayan box?
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Glorious will be that day when borders are opened, when travel restrictions and quarantines are lifted, when mask mandates are revoked, when stay-home orders are rescinded, when families can gather around a shaded park table for a picnic, when seniors can sit and eat in a fastfood nook while talking about grandchildren and maintenance meds, when Elmer Fudd lays down his shotgun and annoys Bugs Bunny with a hug.
It does not mean that Covid-19 has left; but a healthy physical, mental, social and emotional outlook and disposition, boosted by the vaccine, may give people a fighting chance to safely leave and productively live.
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Think positive! This early, a few friends have intimated that they have booked a flight for a long well-deserved visit to the homeland – the Philippines. For obvious reasons, they are only trying to stay away from winter.
High school classmates (read as retirees/seniors) have booked passage in ocean cruise ships.
Families have booked reservations for cottages and camp sites.
Me? I am booked too. I still have an Encyclopaedia set. Online literature keeps me airborne and afloat on tourism, demographics, geography and seniors’ discounts. My wallet and my knees have never felt better.
When the eyes get tired, I take a quick three-hour nap. Who knows? I may just keep on dreaming of an amazing travelogue.
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Like everyone else, I too had to patiently learn the basics of first-time international travelling. That was on March 16, 1986 and I was on my way to attend the 49th Advanced Journalism Course at the International Institute of Journalism (IIJ) in West Berlin, West Germany. This was big time, my first international travel.
Inside the PanAm plane, I never imagined myself wrestling with a seat belt while someone beside me was miserably trying to control his laughter. If not for the grinning stewardess who saw the red flag and taught me an easy lift-plug-squeeze technique, I would have left the metal puzzle alone and smirked in frustrated surrender.
I never imagined running awry in a huge Frankfurt airport, trying to make sense of Deutsch – yes, German words – to make it in time for the connecting flight to Berlin. A confused ant might have done better. I pulled through anyway, but not without towing a large heavy suitcase my mom packed for me. To make matters worse, I lifted the maleta on escalators, while the more pleasant conveyors and elevators stood in irreverent silence.
I never imagined facing Mr. Winter, for the first time, so abruptly at the then Tegel International Airport in Berlin. Pathetically, the Barong Tagalog was no way to be formal with the seasonal weather. From the tropics, I am not used to wearing a winter jacket. In 1986, Philippine clothing shops do not even sell such a revenue-losing item.
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Through it all, a lot of warmth, in the person of IIJ course director Herr Peter Preufert, welcomed me.
While motoring to Berlin’s centre, Herr Peter struck a conversation about the February 22-25, 1986 Philippine EDSA “People Power” Revolution and asked: “Butch, will the EDSA Revolution bring change for the better in the Philippines?” I replied: “I hope so. Only the future will tell.” Today, 35 years hence, my reply stays.
Herr Peter was a dear friend of many Filipino journalists, as he was a regular visitor to the archipelago.
Of course, he also wanted to know if I was stuffed with Choc-Nut and Skyflakes and if I puffed Hope.
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Three months later, on June 8, 1986, I was aboard a Lufthansa plane. The IIJ sojourn in West Germany was completed and over. I was on my way home to the Philippines, to family and friends and … back to work.
Lucky to be seated near the porthole, I had a bird’s eye view of the beautiful city and wonderful country – a home away from home albeit temporary — that I was leaving.
Then the creative juices flowed. The following poem – titled On Leaving Berlin — was written.
Why does time fly so fast
And the songs we sang so sad?
Why did fate pull us together
Only to push us apart?
The rain has hidden my tears
The cold has frozen my heart
Just unable to say “Goodbye”
And think we have to part.
People strive to be with each other
Building friendships meant to last forever
Don’t you think it sad that life goes on this way?
Don’t you think it sad that people meet and soon drift away?
The poem was later sent to Herr Peter who had it published in the 1987 edition of The Berlin Bear, the annual publication of the Institute.
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While writing the verses, an avalanche of first-time traveller not-really-life-changing experiences that made me look stupid in 1986 cascaded through my thoughts.
After Herr Peter signed me in at the Kolpinghaus hostel in the Kreuzberg district, the manager said: “Willkommen. Dreihundertachtundzwanzig,” and handed me a key. I was lost in translation and bewildered. “What?” The manager pointed to the number 328 etched on the key. Herr Peter was smiling, like the guy beside me on the PanAm flight.
Lesson: English is not the only language one can learn to speak, read and write. Replicate Philippine national hero and linguist Dr. Jose Rizal. BTW, remembering Rizal on his 160th birth anniversary on June 19 would be nice.
Jet lag over, I went out for a walk to see and feel the surroundings. Hungry too, I focused on finding an Asian eatery. Minutes later, I was drinking beer while waiting for “to go” cuisine selected from images in a menu. Returning to the hostel, I felt like carrying a sturdy bag with a heavy load. Surprise! When the bag was unloaded, the hot and delicious tummy fillers were in bowls and dishes where they would have been erstwhile served. There also was a clean plate and utensils. Of course, I ate the food. Washed and cleaned, the dishes were returned the next morning. The restaurant keeper smiled, similar to that of the guy beside me on the PanAm flight.
Lesson: Brilliant restaurateurs appreciate excellent dishwashers.
Digesting something alien? At Bolle grocery store a stroll away, I bought a can similar to Reno’s liver spread. Deutsch words and a picture of meat stood out on the can’s label. During a visit, a friend asked if we were allowed to have pets. I said “No.” He stared at the empty can of dog food in the trash bin. I said “I can’t read German.” He smiled, like the guy beside me on the PanAm flight.
Lesson: Food is good. Worry when you start barking at the wrong tree. Ignoring an incomprehensible canned food label is good for your health and image.
It was a bright sunny morning, the last Sunday before the IIJ course ended. Feeling sporty and sprightly in a T-shirt, basketball shorts, soccer socks and sneakers, off I went to the superstore KaDeWe in downtown Berlin for souvenir and pasalubong shopping. Little did I know that while I was leisurely exploring inside KaDeWe, the temperature outside dipped and snow fell. Commuting by bus was not that easy, but carrying shopping bags and other stuff while walking in a ridiculous outfit under a snowfall was something else. I made it through. I just had to endure the stares and grins, similar to that of the guy beside me on the PanAm flight, that were thrown at me.
Lesson: The catchphrase “weather-weather” only applies in the Philippines.
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On June 12, compatriots in Canada and from around the globe will join kababayans in the homeland remember and celebrate the Philippines’ 123rd Independence Day (Araw ng Kasarinlan at Kalayaan).
Although penned more than three decades ago, the following article will go on to re-echo the spirit of resilience and patriotism exemplified by a smiling, hospitable and hardworking population who are as diverse in culture and tradition as no other in the world.
The article is titled Ang Mamatay Nang Dahil Sa Iyo (For Thee Thy Sons Should Suffer And Die),
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Weary from a three-month advanced journalism course in Berlin, I simply longed to be home — to the Philippines, my family, my friends and my work.
On June 8, 1986, the Lufthansa plane’s intercom buzzed: “This is the captain speaking. In a short while, we will be landing at the Manila International Airport.”
The plane’s mid and rear, seating mostly overseas Filipino workers going home for the first time after long-term job contracts, buzzed to market-like life.
Home addresses and phone numbers were passed around. “Tuloy ang ligaya. Tawagan, ha!”
Bags were inspected to make sure the pasalubong was there. “Matutuwa ang mga bata.”
Over the excitement, a distinct voice made out a familiar tune … Bayang magiliw, Perlas ng Silanganan …
The noise ebbed. Bodies froze. Everyone … Alab ng puso … turned to look for the voice.
Sa dibdib mo’y buhay … then there were two … Lupang hinirang … three and more singing in unison … Duyan ka ng magiting.
People began to stand … Sa manlulupig … as the blonde stewardess and other cabin crew … ‘Di ka pasisiil … requested them to sit and put on seat belts.
Sa dagat at bundok … the chorus was infectious … Sa simoy at sa langit mong bughaw … that soon, everyone, except non-Filipinos, were singing the Philippine national anthem.
May dilag ang tula at awit … Some placed their right palm on the left breast … Sa paglayang minamahal … a few saluted, others doffed baseball caps.
Ang kislap ng watawat mo’y … A lady who lost her soldier-husband in Mindanao … Tagumpay na nagniningning … pulled out a Philippine flag, her sad remembrance of a dear life lost in a senseless conflict … Ang bituin at araw niya … and unfolded it for all to see … Kailan pa ma’y ‘di magdidilim … and honour.
The singing grew louder, the fervor stronger … Lupa ng araw, ng luwalhati’t pagsinta …
Tears welled in many eyes … Buhay ay langit sa piling mo … voices quivered but never wavered.
Aming ligaya, na ‘pag may mang-aapi … The plane’s wheels touched Philippine soil.
Ang mamatay nang dahil sa ‘yo … Then, silence … as if in a brief prayer of thanks for having been delivered safely and soundly.
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I am a Filipino in words, thoughts and deeds; in mind, body and soul. #####