Anything that can go wrong, will

First of all, I was not even supposed to go to my hometown, Gensan. My previously arranged trip was for Puerto Princesa, to conduct a seminar (because one day is not really enough time to do a ‘training’) for OFWs on migration and HIV. Just as I was dreaming about munching on cashew nuts and exploring PP (as I’ve only been to Coron), we get a call from the organizers that they have also scheduled the “training” for Gensan to be held on the same dates. And since blood will always be thicker than Palawan waters, I decided to head off to Gensan. Getting there was a logistical nightmare of booking and rebooking the flights (which should have been a foreboding) but after the airline and flight schedules were all ironed out, I did not expect any major fiasco to happen in this trip.

The seminar itself was kinda uneventful – the participants were not OFWs – but fisherfolks who traverse the waters of Indonesia and Papua New Guinea. Yes, folks, the tuna population is rapidly dissipating in Southern Philippines. Almost all the participants had not attended any seminar on HIV and AIDS, which made my task easier. Oh, and the training was held at the city’s premiere Fish Port – where fish get unloaded and classified for export or local consumption. There are currently 55 fishing companies that operate in the city, although, there’s been a glut in the fish supply – but that really is not what this blog is about.

Fast forward to Saturday, February 28. My Philippine Air Lines flight was scheduled to depart at 10am and for the first time in years, I was not flying Mabuhay. That’s because the training organizers got my ticket at a very cheap promo rate and if I wanted an upgrade, I would have to pay P3,700 (one way). I had earlier paid P1,600 for the upgrade from Manila to Gensan (the steaming arroz caldo, fresh fruits and canapés in the Mabuhay Lounge at the Centennial airport are kinda worth it). Since the Mabuhay Lounge in Gensan really only serves cookies, brownies, dried mangos, dessert bars, coffee, soda and juices, I figured that 3,700 was not worth it. If I had excess baggage (which was also one of the principal reasons why I always fly Mabuhay), I can just shell out P56.00 per kilo.

After reading three stories from Jhumpa Lahiri’s 'Unaccustomed Earth' in the waiting lounge, I realized that it was already past 9:30 a.m., yet, we have not boarded. By 10:00, I stood up to ask one of the staff about the delay of our flight and I was told that they were still fixing something in the plane and that they were waiting for communication from the pilots to the ground staff.

By 10:15, there was a cackle in the PA system, followed by a muffled announcement that the flight was cancelled and passengers were requested to line up to rebook their tickets.

I managed to wiggle my way through the crowd and get second in line. We were given two options: take the 4:40 pm flight in Davao City that same day or leave the next day, at seven in the morning. Davao City, in case you don’t know, is a good three-four hours by land travel. And it was already 11:00 a.m. The only thing in my mind was that I had a birthday dinner (mine!) to catch. It was not just my belated birthday dinner but also the birthday celebration of two other very good friends. Second, it had taken some time to arrange this party to accommodate everyone’s schedule (not that we’re assembling a hundred people – actually, it was just eight people). So, I call up Camille, who’s hosting the dinner with E, at their place. I hear a panic-stricken ‘nooooo!’ from the other end of the line. ‘You can’t cancel, it took a long time to get everyone to agree on this date!’ ‘But I don’t have anything to bring. I'll have no time to cook the beef ribs adobo and cheesy baked potatoes!’ ‘Never mind that! We’ll take care of the food, you just have to be here!' This time, friends are thicker than blood – as I decided to go ahead with the Davao trip option and pass up the opportunity to spend another day with my family.

By then, people were cussing, grumbling, complaining and getting pissed off at the PAL staff who seemed rather unperturbed by the stress and aggravation they had caused to roughly 200 passengers. If we chose to go to Davao, would they bring us there, would there be a shuttle? ‘No’, they said, ‘we’ll give you a cash allowance of P600’.

The long and short of it is that I was able to rebook my flight, claim my P600 cash allowance (which is insanely inadequate for all the trouble and costs of traveling to Davao – if you include food, transportation and terminal fee), retrieve my baggage and request my father and brother to drive me to Davao.

Surprisingly, I was very calm -- or maybe (thankfully) I was not PMSing. At other times (and especially during PMS), I would have been outrightly upset and indignant. But what can one do in this situation, really? Mind you, I was silently consoling or cajoling myself that I was paying something forward.

My aunt, who also happened to be on the same flight, was assisted by Joseph (a college batchmate of mine) who was arranging the rebooking of six other people in his company.
So, I decided to take our aunt with us on the trip to Davao. But not before a hurried lunch at home (yes! we managed to have lunch and savor the last bits of the kalderetang kambing). Despite the fact that my brother (who was scarily sleep-deprived) was speeding like a maniac, the trip seemed to take forever. But the road trip turned out to be a pleasant surprise as it gave us an opportunity to catch up and converse with my aunt about family matters.

At 4:00 pm we arrived at the Davao International airport – almost at the same time as the other Gensan passengers who also decided to rebook their flights. It looked a little funny – kinda like Amazing Race -- as we unloaded our baggage, went through x-ray check, and made a beeline for the check-in counters.

Everything seemed to go smoothly from there. We reached Manila two hours later but it took a long time to disembark as the plane parked in the north side of the airport and we had to be bussed over to the south side – which also took forever.

End of story: I got to my dinner a little late (but two other people came later, hah!). No gifts, no beef ribs adobo, no cheesy baked potatoes. Just moi and my love for (or fear of?) my friends. Oh, btw, the chocolate truffles from S, made it so worth it! But that's another blog.