Glorious Sunday

"When the whole of the Philippines was glued to the TV and the numerous pay-per-view locations to watch the Pacquiao-Margarito fight, my sister and I went to the mall. As expected, the road was clear and the mall had fewer people. Like most Filipinos, we windowshopped and windowshopped some more only to stop when a bulk of people started coming out of the theaters. Although not a boxing fan, I was excited to learn about the outcome. I couldn't quite read the expression on the faces of the people exiting the theaters. All I could see were blank and expressionless faces. I was getting worried. I had to go to a guy to confirm Pacquiao's loss. He responded, "Pacquiao! Unanimous!" He answered victoriously as if he won the match himself.

"Pacquiao's win didn't surprise me anymore because of his unblemished record. There seems to be nothing that he cannot win nowadays. I shall advise him to bet in the lottery, then. My advice might be worth something. hehe. I wish I had his luck, but, winning boxing matches and a congressional election is not entirely luck."

I was checking my drafts in my blog and found this unfinished post with reference to the November 2010 match of Pacquiao. The draft's title was "Glorious Sunday."

I am not to talk of Pacquiao at length; the past week has been filled with Pacquiao stories detailing his not so apparent loss to Bradley. I just thought of utilizing the Pacquiao account, since it is acceptably written, as my introduction to an equally glorious Sunday I had. hehe.

I was invited by my volunteer friends to go with them to Corregidor. So on 17 June 2012, a Sunday, I braved early in the morning the unfriendly waters of Manila Bay for close to two hours to reach the famed island of Corregidor. Prior to going there, Corregidor was nothing but a "significant place in  World War II history," according to the books, and a reference to losing one's virginity : "Isinuko ang Bataan!"

The craft taking us to the island took longer to than usual; the waves were big and the clouds were foretelling us of a wet day ahead.  The craft's crew members were ready with barf bags and tissue for those having discomfort, and they were busy during the last thirty minutes of the trip, I have to say. Had the weather been fine, we would have made it to the island earlier, and the ship's management would have saved a lot more on tissue and motion sickness bags!

We arrived safely, nonetheless, and were led to tranvias that run on engine. Before the island was obliterated during the war, the entire island was accessed through  the railway system. The Americans did a fine job in equipping the whole island with modern world facilities during the pre-war period. Only a few railtracks are now visible.

The fastcraft that took us to Corregidor

I didn't bring anything with me except my phone and wallet. I wasn't expecting much; I had very little idea of what I was to see and experience. Getting out of Manila was already a treat by itself.

I am used to seeing flight attendants doing safety demonstrations, but not this one.

All aboard the 'Tranvia'

I was to get the surprise of the tour the moment hopped on the tranvia which was to take us all around the island. A minute into the ride, we were welcomed by the picturesque scenery. Little by little, stories of heroism and power were told, sparking interest from even the most disinterested passenger on the tranvia.

I was beaming with pride that the Philippines had a tourist destination that truly spoke of history. The ruins, the barracks, the shrapnel-hit cannons, bomb craters, all presented the horrors of war, a concept which, up to this time, is very unfamiliar to me. Yes, I may have come from Mindanao, but I have never experienced exchanges of gun fires and bullets in my life.

Corregidor may be a symbol of the Philippines' resistance to the Japanese occupation, but for me, a person born after the war, it is a reminder of what I don't want ever to happen in my lifetime or in my children's. I used to proudly announce that I am from Mindanao and nothing should scare me anymore; I was being an as***le when I said that; I have not seen war unlike those who braved the bullets of the insurgents and secessionists in the various parts of the country. I cannot claim courage in war, but I can be honest and brave in my words.

This is one of those trips that I truly enjoyed and learned from.  It's worth taking, really.

Heading back to Manila