Accents
By Julia Carreon-Lagoc

Boracay in my mind (2)

Let the political storm rampage, I still have Boracay in my mind. “The world's most beautiful beach” (quote me anytime). The choice of newly arrived relatives who want a respite from Stateside hassles. The choice, too, of many a foreign and domestic tourist.

My sister Bebita and her hubby Raul, long time Maryland residents, my cousin Taboy of North Carolina and Rudy and me were billeted in the La Bonita Hotel and Restaurant which is located at the center of Boracay's Pier 1. With us at breakfast time were two ladies from Denmark who broke into a good laugh when we quipped Shakespeare's “Something is rotten in the State of Denmark.” They said among the several beaches they'd been to, Boracay was their favorite. They left to explore the island before I could get down their names.

Native tourists—the Avantao family from neighboring Arevalo—occupied the room next to ours. June was not peak season, so we all enjoyed a 50% discount in room rates, meaning P1,500 instead of P3,000/room in December to May. The room was large and accommodated the five of us. Discounts hold true for all other lodging places except for the food prices which vary in the honky-tonks and in the plushy five-star hotels.

We tried the economy buffet at Titay's—attractively presented and sumptuous enough for P125/person and comes with your choice of fruit juice.

Want a massage on a spread over cool, cool sand? P300/per. This we didn't try because there was the lure to swim till dusk with the water staying warm despite the drizzles, not to mention the many other interests vying for one's time. Even an internet café with which to check mails at P60 an hour.

Boracay is where you can get the freshest buko juice a hundred meters away from the shore. We were in a motorized banca for a trip around the island when a fellow on a surfboard came paddling toward us—his surfboard lined with young coconuts about twenty balancing on each side. Would you want a drink? Of course! Never more is the thirst enhanced than when one is out at sea. At P25 apiece, he punched a hole, inserted a straw, and voila! buko juice at its freshest. He paddled towards another motorboat occupied by Koreans, sold them the coconuts, then went back to us to break open the coconuts we had emptied of the juice. Then ours was to savor the coconut meat using the improvised spoon which the fellow had deftly carved out from the husk. What an enterprising way to eke a living in the Boracay waters.

The Philippines' premier fiesta island as the tour brochure puts it, Boracay has provided jobs to its own natives, to residents of nearby towns, and to those coming farther in the Panay mainland. With tourists coming and going year-round, the island is a hive of activity, low or peak season. About 300 motorized bancas ply the Boracay seas. The M/BCA Tata we contracted—P1,500 for a half-day sailing around the island—had a sailboat boldly printed with “PADDLE HARD, PARTY HARDER.” Eking out a living was not exactly a party for Rudy Vicente, Joel, and another also named Joel, the hired hands in the banca who saw to our comfort throughout the ride.

Fish vendor Cynthia Engollo, in her 40's and already saddled with eight kids, was selling a bucketful of fish to La Bonita which at suppertime La Bonita would in turn sell in its outdoor grill. She said she's been selling fish in Boracay for five years now and makes about P500 a day. Good enough, won't you say?

In the boat ride back to the mainland, I was seated beside Hannie Tayco, a new accountancy graduate, who works in La Carmela de Boracay and earns P4,200/month. She is the eldest of eight siblings and thinks that her hometown Malay is really blessed for having Boracay island.

I wonder how much the others make: the trisikad drivers, the vendors of peeled Indian mango with bago-ong to go, the peddlers of trinkets, baubles and bangles and puka shells, the talipapa owners, and the rest of the labor force in the myriad jobs Boracay has created. (Comments to juliaclagoc@yahoo.com )