Tracing Back and Moving Forward

Paying a visit to Magalawa Island early this year didn’t cross my mind. In fact, even spending my summer at the beach or somewhere in the Philippines didn’t have a place in my calendar for work will be occupying my weekends and holidays. That was the reason why I declined most out of town trip invitations for summer because I couldn’t afford to say yes at the onset and retract it before the “the day.”

But here I am, writing about the beach this early. Odd, right?

It all started with a phone call from a friend who just arrived in the country. It was her birthday month and she wanted to visit Magalawa Island during her one-month vacation before flying abroad again. I said “ditto.” However, I didn’t confirm if I could come. But she was very relentless in pushing me so I agreed later on sans giving any assurance if I could organize it because of my erratic working schedule.

On Monday of January 21, upon finding out that I’ll be having a free weekend, I immediately plotted our itinerary for a two-day jaunt at the island. Due to short notice, some of my high school buddies weren’t able to come to our supposed get-together. It was me who rushed everything.

Real adventure began when we all rode a non-air-conditioned bus bound to north from our regular meet-up point during the heyday of our teenage years. We all occupied the back seats so other passengers would be spared from any possible disturbance we might cause. But the boisterous mirth circulating inside the bus couldn’t just go unnoticed. Our behavior was patterned this way: rowdy, quiet (when someone stares at us), burst into laughter again after a moment of silence. The cycle continued for two hours.

We were confused then if we made the spirit of overwhelming happiness contagious to other commuters or we only infuriated those having their “emo” moments while staring at the green fields of Zambales to escort their gloomy hearts. Remember, there were seven people aboard a bus with different stories, experiences, realizations and rumors to share; they haven’t seen each other for years; and they were only given one and a half day. Imagine how challenging it was for us to wrap and pack all the things we wanted to talk about with a very restrained time.

When we were about to alight, a commotion happened. One of our plastic bags carrying five kilos of rice suddenly erupted. After bursting into scream together with other passengers, we hurriedly picked the grains using our bare hands while leaving one of my friends and the bus attendant busy doing their own stuff—my friend was videotaping everything and the bus attendant was scratching his head. We were apologetic to everyone inside for causing the delay. However, we can’t help but laugh about it after.

This is where I spent my first night when I traveled the entirety of Zambales solo. When I visited Magalawa almost three years ago, I knew I was in a phase where everything in my life was unfolding into something surprising. So when I finally had the chance to take my first paces at the shore, find a place to watch the fullness of the ocean, and sit to observe how motions around me fill my soul, I knew exactly that I was at the right place.

Magalawa Island is still as placid and enigmatic as it was during our first meet and greet. Until now, it’s still an occult how it makes me feel untroubled and how it acquires the ability to wipe away thoughts and worries between my two ears whenever I look at its every angle. That’s the reason why it remains to be my favorite among the islands in my home province. So when a friend told me she wanted to go here, albeit I wasn’t sure at first whether or not I could join, I was jumping inside for sooner I will possibly be reunited with an island that reminds me that a place need not be perfect for it to be captivating and beautiful, sometimes, it only needs to be peaceful.

Our boat reached the island an hour shy before noon. While waiting for another buddy who traveled all the way from Manila, we started preparing our lunch. We had pork adobo, chicken inasal, grilled tilapia, steamed veggies, shrimp paste (bagoong alamang) and variety of fruits. Fronting the beach, we all took our first meal for the day without spoon and fork.

The tranquil atmosphere has found its way to complement our full tummies by making most of us sluggish at half past two in the afternoon. Although the temptation of not taking a long nap was too hard to resist, I imposed a rule that no one is allowed to sleep until midnight. So most played volley ball and some found their nook somewhere in the island to catch up.

It was before twilight when I asked my friends to chase the sun. As the sun rises from our location, it entailed a long walk for us to witness its setting. While traversing the other side of Magalawa, we’ve seen how people in a very small community live each day to survive. Their lives are so simple but they look happy and content. I guess because some of them realized how fortunate they are for having the island and for waking up every day in a very peaceful place.

Lovely sunset passed and we rushed back to our cottage for dinner. Bonfire by the shore wasn’t possible that night due to the forceful and unbearable monsoon wind. So all of us decided to stay inside our nipa hut to continue the delayed welcome party of a friend who missed being with the group for two years. And what was in store for two years of not seeing a friend? Yes, the customary. Aside from fresh tales about career and romance wrapped in a long-winded and unedited version, imported goodies from abroad were also flooding, literally.

We envisioned that it would be a long night of endless laughter, anecdotes, and revelations. But the booze that was supposed to accompany us after dinner failed to keep us awake. Instead, it kept us all snoring upon consuming the last drop of tequila. The next morning, one of my friends almost spent her entire morning in and out of the comfort room, blaming the combination of tequila and softdrink the other night. We later realized that that was the price of not bringing lemon or lime.

Morning arrived very swift, reminding us that we only have a few hours left before we bid adios to the island. I forced them to wake up but only some got the courage to leave the bed, in our case, the floor, because all the guys slept on the floor.

Lo and behold, sunrise received us as we were about to consume our coffee by the beach. It was a rare occasion in our lives to see the sunrise since we’re all busy during our regular days. We all enjoyed the moment and took it slow because we don’t know when we’d be able to glimpse at sunrise again.

We left the island by noon, rode a bus, and got off at our hometown in Zambales. From there, we went separate ways. I’ve seen the full moon at NLEX on my way back to Manila and remembered the scene etched in my mind during our night in the island.

All of us stood and walked towards the shore upon seeing the beach gleamed over the dark surrounding. The image of the moon mirrored through the waters and everything around turned so beautiful. In an instant, we forgot the conspicuous cold winds crashing with our body temperature as we all looked up and admired the natural satellite’s splendor.

An island, humming waves, cold breeze at night, and a full moon. A seemingly surreal scene that was made real by the presence of seven good souls that were once separated by distance and time. Aside from joy, island’s empty spaces were also occupied by laughter, tales, and memories we altogether reminisced.

 

Every journey begins and ends the same way—packing. It is inescapable before and after every trip. Some hate it. But I always love packing after the trip because along with the dirty clothes and local goods, I also pack experience with me. This time, I shared it with my high school friends.