In Marinduque (Friday, July 25, 2014)

Friday, July 25, 2014

As the goddess of the storm granted me safe passage from Cubao to Marinduque, so does she grant me safe passage home. It is a bright, sunny, scorching morning. The carpenters and gardeners are out doing chores--more Paul Bowles characters in an unwritten novel.

I finally tell Zebra that the place is inhabited by tikbalangs. Santan is their favorite flower; wherever this flower proliferates, tikbalangs are sure to live nearby. Zebra is thrilled, and is thankful that I did not tell him this before last night.

We proceed to the passenger terminal at the Port of Cawit, which is closer to our hotel. Zebra buys our fare on a larger boat.

Mayda sends me text messages; she wants to see us at the pier before we leave. She has a surprise for me. She also wants me to meet her middle child, Paulo.

While waiting for Mayda to arrive I check out the coffee table book on Marinduque that the Office of the Governor and the Department of Tourism gave me.

Mayda's big surprise: a chestnut-brown horsetail! I've always wanted one, to create a whisk with. The whisk is a scepter of power, actually, and is used to spread out magical energy. It is the sure sign that the goddess of the storm has blessed this journey.

Other gifts from Mayda: another necklace with Morion pendant...

...and three Morion bookmarks carved out of soft wood.

Mayda's son Paulo.

I give Mayda gifts as well: a mother-of-pearl cameo pendant and an anklet twined with bells.

The big vessel has air-conditioned sections and open-air sections, four levels, a cafeteria on the third level, multiple staircases, and viewing decks in the rear. Since there is no Pepsi Max available I buy myself a bottle of Mountain Dew at the food counter. A young woman steps up and asks the salesperson, who is standing in front of me, to charge the battery of her cell phone She greets me. She is one of the police inspectors who participated in my workshop. I hardly recognize her because she is in civilian clothing. She is en route to attend yet another training seminar in Batangas.

At the end of this trip she will come up to the topmost level, where I am, and I will give her the Haring Bakal one-eye-coconut talisman that I am wearing.

Zebra follows me to the fourth level, where the smoking area is.

I take pictures of the foam below the stern. I am fascinated by the way the water churns in four, separate columns and then dissipates and merges with the waves once more, hundreds of meters in our wake.

Even if the sun is out and our trip commenced in calm waters, there are, somewhere in the middle of the path, rough waters--"water pockets" equivalent to air pockets on flights. Each time this happens, though, I remind myself that I prefer to be exactly where I am rather than sitting before my computer in the office.

There is a portion of the ferry boat ride where we seem to be in the middle of nowhere and there is no land in sight 360 degrees round us. It is the part of the ride that I enjoy most. It is the moment when I feel totally disconnected from my body and the world, and all my cares and concerns cease to exist.

There were many things we could have bought in Marinduque but did not: pieces of wooden sculpture from Mogpog because they were costly, images of Our Lady of Biglang-Awa because we were unable to go back to Boac Church, more varieties of sweetmeats because there were too many and I'd been given a bag of arrow root cookies and banana chips by our workshop organizers, buntal fabric from Torrijos because it was too far away, three-foot long, fresh yellow-fin tuna because we had no ice coolers to place them in, Moriones gear because we were required to pay for them in full and then wait for them a week to get done. I was happy with the friendships I'd established, especially the former owners of the masks I have, and with the snapshots I'd taken for my electronic diary.

At the Department of Tourism office yesterday afternoon, it was Dindo and Ding who told me that Marinduque has indigenous weaving crafts and is well-known for its buntal fabric. Torrijos, however, is 50 kilometers away from Boac. Dindo and Ding showed me samples of this exquisite, handwoven , product. I would not mind ordering some and having the curtains in Angelique's bedroom woven out of buntal.

Zebra has eaten biscuits for lunch in the ferry's cafeteria. I settle for a dry tuna sandwich and a cupcake inside the car. It is 4:30 PM and the sun is setting,

We go through the town roper of Lucena but the traffic is bad. Zebra takes a long detour that nonetheless ensures continuous driving,

I cannot hep but notice how thoughtful and well-organized Zebra is. In the back of the vehicle he even brought along, on a hanger, his embroidered, peach-colored barong, just in case I would need to be driven to a formal function.

Sunset in San Pablo. We listen to the news on the radio. The AM stations merge and emit sounds like those at a cheap, town carnival. It is 5:13 PM.

Twilight in Alaminos

Darkness falls on Santo Tomas.

Entering the SLEx 7:07 PM

7:30 PM. Metro Manila traffic begins. It is an especially bad day and night. According to the motor pool dispatcher the traffic has been abnormally heavy since 3:00 PM.

8:30 PM detour through Forbes Park

I arrive home 9:30 PM. Everyone is in bed. Zebra and the security guard assist me with my luggage. I offer Zebra a nice, square supper, but he, too, is eager to get home. He will probably reach his own home at midnight.

I take supper alone and afterward unpack, also alone.