Pwera bisita

Netnet Camomot

“PWERA bisita. Pwera bisita.” The last time you heard that line was 10 years ago when you took a boat to nowhere.

That’s the line you had not heard for the longest time. It’s music to the ears somehow. Reminds you of those years so long ago when your vacation companion was Dad, and you’re on your way again to Carcar’s fiesta. Beddings were out of stock, and you had to sleep on a cot covered with newspapers. Those were primitive years for the cruising, er, boating, er, what do you call this? The shipping industry?

Except for boat rides to Camiguin or that ferry from Davao City to Samal Island, you don’t cherish these long trips anymore. It’s not one of your favorite things. When you travel for hours, you want New York to be at the other end, and not any of the islands in the Philippines.

Cruises are another level up there, for luxurious vacations and formal dinners and a comfy room with its own bath where you can sip red wine while thinking of, hmmm, Brad Pitt. Or John Lloyd Cruz. Or that guy in One Direction, the one named Harry something.

But once you prefer baths and red wine, that means you’re too old for Harry who, by the way, you had never heard of, until your goddaughter started talking about him and you had to ask, Who he? Enough to shock the goddaughter who believes every human being in this universe, including you, should be familiar with her idol.

And then there’s your bro who says during dinner, No to Justin Bieber. And that’s when his daughter bursts into song… wait, songs! All of them by Bieber.

There has been a great improvement… Hmmm, OK, define great. And, no, we’re not talking about Bieber now, we have already moved on to this boat that, when looked from the outside, was enough to inspire you to… Go. Back. Home. O my gas. Is that the same boat? The boat many–many to the nth degree–years ago? The same stairs! The same floor! Hopefully not the same beddings. Well, leave your precious ID card to get beddings. If the ID is meant to stop passengers from taking them home, only one thought comes to mind: you mean some people want to take these home?

One guy is splashing alcohol on his cot. And there you are lying down on that cot like as if it’s the cleanest thing on this planet Earth. If ever you’re now lying on what could be brewing with germs, you now have beddings to serve as armor. It’s too late now to disinfect the cot with wipes and alcohol. You’re already resting on it. Whatever germs it has are now creeping into your skin, your hair, your crevices. Ah, maarte much, hehe.

That boat ride ten years ago was for Bohol. Or was that Cebu again? And from Cebu, you hopped to Bohol, and then you hopped to Cebu and from there, sailed back to CDO. It’s the long hours of travel that you’re tired of. From 8 p.m. up to–gasp!–7:20 a.m., you’re in that boat. Almost 12 hours. You can watch TV–basketball–or eat instant noodles and chips, smoke, drink coffee, soda, beer, and water. These are the only items sold at the canteen. No peanuts, which you now consider as among the snacks that can pass as protein which is highly recommended in your diet. But they can be fatty and salty, depending on how they’re prepared.

Then, you go to the restroom and the cell phone’s message tone beeps–there’s a signal! Does this mean you now have to stay in the restroom for the rest of this trip so you can text and check out your messages? Darn.

You wake up at 5:30 a.m. A few minutes later, you hear this: Good morning, surviving guests. Surviving guests? You mean, some people didn’t survive the many hours of travel?

It was only later, when the announcement was repeated, that a friend heard it correctly: Good morning, travelers and guests. Travelers diay, dili surviving. Praning much.

If plane passengers have no patience in rushing from a plane once it has landed, boat passengers, on the other hand, tend to wait until all the others have gone down that plank. The mob plus their luggage can be dangerous to your health. So, you wait until the feeling to flee passes. The boat arrives at 7:20 a.m., it’s now 7:52 a.m. and you’re still in the boat.

Finally, you’re out of the boat. You have to walk to the street which is somewhere out there. And now you’re walking along that street to reach the hotel which happens to be nearby. Under the 8 a.m. sun. The sun that rose when you were on the top floor–deck?–and gave you the perfect time to take the sunrise photo that any Facebook user could immediately post. But the signal came and went while in the boat, no chance to post. Besides, you’re the type that posts days later when the surging feeling of the sunrise moment has already passed.

The porter offered to carry your luggage up to the hotel. Otherwise, it could have been you carrying that luggage or damaging its rollers that had to survive through the long and winding path to the hotel. So, it’s not surviving guests–it’s surviving luggage!

The porter apologizes, that all he can do is leave your luggage at the lobby. O my gas. That’s OK. You’re not expecting him to carry that luggage up to the hotel’s penthouse suite, that is, if it has one.

And here you are now at the hotel lobby, waiting for a room. Any room. Wait, you still prefer the room for two. But it’s dorm type for now–the room for eight, 12, 16? It’s going to be fun. You joined this for the adventure anyway. Curiosity is the word.

You do know that 2 p.m. is the check-in time. It’s still 8:26 a.m. Do we now have to wait till 2 p.m.? But you wait, and write. Curiosity begins.