Bora Republic

delayed posting from May 12, 2007 10:12 AM

It's been six years since I last walked on the pristine sands of Boracay Island. At the time it was almost pure and unspoiled, the neighborhood unpolluted and moderately quiet and peaceful. A couple of years later, I saw it on TV as the complete opposite. Coming from and living quite long on the "real" islands (i.e. Marianas, Tinian, Guam, and Palau) where I frequented Bora-meets-Palawan-like beaches (which are, mind you, free of charge...down to the ferry ride to and from the islands), going to Bora now--what with its current state--didn't seem like a truly enticing idea. Barely a year ago when I spent my birthday in Panglao Island in Bohol, I made up my mind that I'd take Bohol over Bora any day.

Any day but a post-breakup day.

Because of the Labor Day weekend, which was going to give us, give or take, four or five days off from work, the gurls (Maita and Chrissie) prodded me to go with them to Bora. I was in the tossup phase in my mind when Jedi and Aries--one after the other--asked me whether I was interested in joining them to Bora for the long weekend. Heads or tails notwithstanding, I felt like I was going to get swayed. So after checking our training schedules on the then-becoming-filled-up calendar and ensuring that the May 1 weekend wasn't going to be crucial for us trainers, I went online to my savings account. After all, I just went to Thailand and spent quite a pocketful. When I figured I could still afford to swipe my ticket and not get broke or bankrupt, I went online and started booking flights to Bora.

That, my dears, was just going to be the start of my ordeal. Apparently, everybody and their mothers were going to Bora for that weekend. So, after having teamed up with Chrissie in scouring the net for good deals (whether or not it was a package or just plane fare, at that point, we really didn't care). Having braved hours on end of being placed on hold and transferred from one extension to another (sometimes only to be disconnected or made to call again) and weekend, lunchbreak or after-office sprints to airline and travel agents offices, we finally secured tickets to Bora...with matching cheap-ass accommodations courtesy of Jedi at D'Mall.

When we got to Bora, it was NOTHING like how I remembered it six years ago. There was prolly a gazillion people (and about a tenth of that number in canine population); restaurants, stalls and kiosks/stands everywhere; blaring music (or noise?) from humongous and multiple amplifiers/speakers everywhere; and makeshift stages for events (at the time we were there, there was the Smart Buddy event as well as the Century Tuna Beach Body thingee competition). The quiet, laid-back, soothing air of Bora was nowhere present...unless maybe when you go have a massage in one of the expensive spas.

With the Training Department digital camera (this time, officially NOT mine anymore) in tow, we started heading for our 500-shots quota. But what probably rivaled our photo ops frenzy was our food-tripping. Barely finishing one "cocktail" at one restaurant and we'd be heading to another restaurant to eat again! And I am not talking of light meals here but food like carbonara (for the "cocktail", mind you) and then later on baby back ribs, pork barbecue and garlic fried rice. We were all having a great time...until of course my ex emerges from the crowd--flanked by the new boys (emphasis on the plural form, ladies and gentlemen...apparently my replacement, after barely one week; can you spell out TRASHY?) and having the temerity to even doing beso with my friends...and me. For about five seconds, I believe my glaring coldness froze the summer heat of bora...until the wretched pack of skanks left the vicinity. So much for an enjoyable Bora trip.

After dinner--and apparently after "thawing out" from the cold moment--I had the requisite Bora henna tattoo. For 250 bucks, I got myself a fancy tattoo on my left arm. If I wasn't a keloid former, I would most definitely have that same exact henna tattoo tattooed permanantly on my arm...so much for not being a wooz but not getting away with it. Took more photos and walked by the shorelines. Went to check out the Century Tuna event. But after seeing that it was "invitational only", their pa-über-social effect being waned by the isawan flanking their perimeter, and the event not even starting after more than an hour and a half, I walked out and headed back to the upstairs attic (we rented out those attic-type rooms atop establishments at D'Mall) and slept. At half past midnight, I took another shower (perhaps the fifth for the day, thanks to the humidity) and headed for a walk towards the "clubs"...or the beach versions of it. Met up with Aries (Jedi and the girls were already snoring and wouldn't budge, those Manangs!) at Hey Jude and had a couple of beers (saw the ex passed by with yet another set of new boys [again, emphasis on the plural form]...wow, copulating like there's no tomorrow, I noticed). Was enjoying the trip-hop music at Jude when they started playing Vanilla Ice's Ice Ice Baby. That did it for me, and I dragged Aries to go to another bar (which name escapes me right now...Beachsomething). Music was house, and no signs of Vanilla Ice in the playlist, so I took a swig off my fourth bottle of SanMig Light and joined this exotic looking couple on the makeshift ledge (actually, a low table). Barely five minutes into the gyrating on the ledge, exotic looking guy (think Black Eyed Peas' Pinoy guy meets Jackie Brown afro hairstyle) dances with me, got my name, introduced me to his "girlfriend" Sandy (another exotic looking babe, similar afro hairstyle, only less poofy and more kempt). Danced, gyrated, chitchatted, and guffawed some two or three dance songs...and Male Jackie Brown was doing an indecent proposal. "Erick (yes, I go with pseudonyms at bars, thank you!), you really can move. My girlfriend and I were wondering if you were THAT good in bed, and if you'd go with us to our hotel room!" Boink. Yeah, like that was going to happen. I politely told him that I'm not into that (although I've had my share of that back in my younger years), and continued gyrating myself to kingdom come. I was totally weirded out with the fact that I was on the ledge dancing with only a tank top, sarong, and slippers on. Something you could NEVER wear to bars/clubs in the Metro. Haha...so I enjoyed the moment, oblivious to the bad henna tattoo job I had earlier, which was literally dripping all over my arm. Met someone interesting, bought a beer or two for us, and retreated to a more quiet area of the beach where we could get to know each other better. At daybreak, the two of us were still on the same spot, and decided to walk by the shoreline. At the first sight of the sun's rays, we got possessed by the moment and kissed each other on the lips...and parted ways, knowing that we may not see each other again. Ah. 'Twas all good.

The gurls and I decided to sunbathe--OMG, like when did I think I had any more light pigment in my skin that could allow further darkening--and just laze away the remainder of the day. At some point, Aries introduced me to a group of showbiz people, and I was like, "Dude, you look really familiar. Have we met before?" to one person...only to find out later on that he was Bamboo of Rivermaya. I was laughing like crazy. I absolved myself from that episode. I am not a big fan anyway. The highlight of our trip, however, was the paraw boat ride around the islands. We went to this secluded spot where we had the most expensive pasta and nilagang baka. Haha. Well, it was worth the travel and the wait anyway. And the owners were really cool about us wetting the cushioned chairs, so 'twas all good. On our way back, while at sea, I stood up one of the planks of the boat and screamed the ex's name and cussed and hollered and invoked evil to the wind until I grew hoarse. With my last drying tears in my eyes--easily mistakenable for sea water--I was resolved on thinking that I'm glad that was over. I'm finally free.

In another swimming splurge, Jedi and I met two interesting individuals--one a dog, and the other one a "boy" (well, anyone younger than Jedi, Aries, the gurls and I are tagged "boys" and "girls" anyway bweheheheh). The dog's name was Noy the Dog--the sweetest, most adorable Golden Retriever you can ever find (quite opposite the person I named him after). First time I met him was back at the baby back ribs place where he was just looking at me, wagging his tail and playing dead and sitting on my command. He swam to me and Jedi far from the shore, and I panicked that he'd drown, so I tried to save him...only to find out that he was an excellent swimmer. That's how we met Jojo, the "boy". He was amused at how good "our" dog was. "Aso mo?" he asked me. "I wish. Askal to, pero may class. Hehe," I said, giving Jojo a big grin. We guys developed a bond almost instantaneously, this boy being his first time in Bora. Apparently, he went with his family, and they're literally knocked out by 9pm and he's got no one to go out with. Having said that, we all promised to meet up at a certain hour at a certain place...and conveniently forgot to exchange numbers. But as chances would have it, we bumped into each other after dinner and later on showed him around. I saw myself in Jojo when I was still googly-eyed and excited about the idea of being in Bora...and so I let him enjoy the island. I wonder if we have the same perspective on the island. After all, he still hasn't got a point of comparison. So, I guess not. Let Bora tease him first.

More swimming, sunbathing, tanning, photo ops, barbecues, baby back ribs, ex sightings, beautiful sunsets, beer bottles, pasalubong shopping and sunscreen later, we headed back to Manila. I was, apparently the only one who turned negro. The two gurls had way too little melanin in their system...damn them.

Back in the office, sporting my new tan, I've received two separate compliments on how manly (as opposed to...?) and "yummy" (haha) I was with my new complexion. So, having heard that, I reckon I'm keeping the new skin tone...and I guess Glutathione's never going to make any profit on me, eh?

Now, now, time to logoff, as it's time for my 500 digicam shots...