The flight back to Manila was at past 10 eyem Friday. Expecting to arrive Manila after about two hours (or more?), we planned of hitting the nearest mall to the airport until before 4 peyem or we will miss the flight back to Davao.

Thinking about home was a relief. Not that I don't like Puerto Princesa but because Davao--despite all the countless deaths of criminals in the making and their uncles,those who have already been made--is still different.

It's a lot better than Puerto Princesa. Or Manila. Or Cagayan de Oro. Or General Santos. It would be unfair to compare it to Cebu, or Cotabato City. You put all those cities together and they will still pale in comparison to Davao. I sure can narrate my reasons for saying and I am certain that all of you will agree to the fact that only in Davao can one person drink water straight from the faucet without the fear of getting you know what.

The excitement of making it to Davao on time and making it to two separate gatherings of student writers the next day was curtly interrupted by an inaudible whisper coming from the hidden speakers of that PAL plane, seconds after it came into a halt. That the voice was inaudible--from the captain who was whispering something very important---sounded even more worse when it blended with the strumming of the ukelele from one of the tourist guides seated at the back, just a seat from me.

The only thing clear were the words (and statements) "hydraulics...we will wait for the (spare) part to be flown here from Manila...we would like to ask you to disembark..."

Problem was the next flight to Palawan was at past 2peyem. Simple math told me to wait for more than four hours until the spare part arrives.

So I found myself back to Puerto Princesa Airport even without leaving at all. I found myself, along with more than 300 passengers, stuck in a room with multicolored chairs and a colorful box that housed a television set, the only one inside the departure area.

The TV looked so misfit but I only noticed it when it was turned on by one of the airport staff. It beamed Rudy Fernandez grappling a gun with the square-faced Max Alvarado. Looking at the screen I noticed something was terribly wrong. It was not too long for me to figure out that its screen's color looked like the hair of one of the Japanese passengers. Fuschia.

With nothing else but that, it was more entertaining to watch the dark clouds outside blind the sky.


Kiks said...

The skies are always a sight to behold in an airport as unliveably ugly as that.

I did that in many airports except Singapore, whose airport despite the government's draconian laws feels like a second home you would never want to leave.

And I agree (spin a win!) Davao is the best place to be. Wala pa bang Koreans sa lugar nyo?

Anonymous said...

Hello Madam, mas lami jud ang Davao sa tinuod lang! I-freserve jud ang kaguapa sa Dabaw no!

bananas said...

kiks, sangkatutak ang koreans dito. dito sila nag-aaral at kala mo kung sinong mga may ari ng Pilipinas kung umasta. syempre, dito sila nag-aaral kasi nga chepipay daw ang education dito. mahal nga eh, diba? alam kaya nila ang ibig sabihin ng commercialized education o commercialization of education. paksyet nila.

pero, baka misunderstood ko lang sila kasi sabi nga ng mga sociologists, iba ang kanilang drama sa life. ang iingay at ang dudumi. i mean, madudumi. i mean, mahilig magdumi. i mean, ang sarap magpadumi. lol

on the other hand, ang daming gwapo sa kanila. sabi ko nga sa aking boyfriend, sana magkaboyfriend din ako ng koreano.


bananas said...

ay sori jase...yes, lahi ra gyud ang davao mam wui. bongga gyud gihapon diri.

kinsa man diay ang nagpauso anang "bottomless rice" beh? diba davao man?

tagam gyud!

Kiks said...

kabalo man ako ng bisaya pero gamay lang, muder. malaki lang ang impluwensya ng mga bisayangbakla sa bikolanongbaklang ito.

magsulat ka nga tungkol sa mga koreano sa davao at isusulat ko ang aking karanasan sa maynila. at sa seoul.

naku, day, ubod-tigas ang mga yan. walang panahoooooon!


Rey said...

Davao is nice. I have been there countless times since my subersive youth days to my time being a practicing architect attending conventions and dealing with suppliers, plus we used to have a house in Tagum too, back in time when my father was still operating passenger trucks in Compostela and Mt. Diwata route.

But I still won't leave Cagayan de Oro for it. hehehe.

Kiks said...

Bakla, bottom talaga si Sagat. Ching!