Sunday, February 10, 2008

BAD TRIP 16: Hasta la vista

Leaving is such a pain. I can never get used to seeing my little princess cry silently, tears rolling down her cheeks with nary a sound. Nor a whimper. Just those large, wet eyes looking at me with sorrow.

Even after two years of living like an OFW in my own country, leaving home after an oh-so-brief visit kills me every time. It breaks my heart to see her bravely fight off tears as she waves goodbye from the door, already counting the days till my next visit.

“Daddy, can we go back to Manila? Then we can always be together like we used to.” (We moved back to Aklan, my home province, two years ago.)

It’s not possible at this time, baby. Daddy's job is in Samar.

“E di mag-resign ka na lang po.”

(Sigh) I wish it were that simple, baby...

Sunday, February 03, 2008

HAPPY TRIP 12: Unsnatched

Either it’s my lucky day or the pickpocket was incredibly stupid. Have you ever had your cellphone snatched and returned right back?

Saturday night on Ati-atihan weekend in Kalibo simply meant one thing – snake dancing at Magsaysay Park. Imagine a big square filled with people, all holding on to one another and doing the snake dance, with Presidential-wannabe Bayani Fernando belting Happy Days are Here Again and Roll Out the Barrell. It was fun, fun, FUN! Of course I was right in the middle of the melee, drenched with sweat, and swaying to the music like there was no tomorrow. Everyone was high, fueled in part by a healthy dose of San Miguel beer.

Just when everyone was in a frenzy, with people crushed against each other, I distinctly felt a hand brush my front pocket, right where my cellphone was kept! Alarmed, I immediately groped my pocket to check. The cellphone’s gone! Aaaaargh!

Good thing there was a lull in the music so the frenzied crowd stood still for a second. I yelled “Cellphone kooooo!!!” to no one in particular.

In a split second, a hand went up in front of me, holding my phone up, saying “O…”

What the f_ _k? I grabbed my phone just as the music resumed, and the guy was gone, lost in the boisterous crowd.