FROM BORACAY TO GREECE!
Summer comes and goes. Most of the time I am out if the country for work. But I’m stuck here, I ignore the heat and stay in a temperature-controlled room of 18 degrees – cold enough to make the windows sweat. This year I decided to go off tangent and pick places I have never been to before.
Much to my chagrin, I had never been to the beach. You see, I hate the sand, the bugs and the mosquitoes, but I figured it would be fun with everyone around. As we reached the villa I was spraying Baygon everywhere. I thought I had nearly killed myself with all the insect repellant and Lysol disinfectant I kept on spraying. I am so not into roughing it up. For me, the minimum requirement for traveling is a Holiday Inn.
A couple of days later saw us walking down to Station 2 where D’mall was and I was trying my best not to freak out as the beach was filled with algae, which were collecting on my Adidas all-terrain. (I refuse to wear Havaianas and scratch my pedicure.) Finally as we walked back , I was dazzled by a beautiful white structure, so white it glistened under the sun. This brilliant apparition was Discovery Shores, an oasis in the middle of the island. Not only do the staff headed by Jun Parreno make you feel at home, the food by chef David Pardo de Ayala is fabulous as well. And after seeing the whole poolside and the fabulous rooms done by Budgi Layug, I wanted to move there. But I was too ashamed to ditch my friends and forego the huge amount I already paid for my share of the villa. So I promised to go back another time in order to luxuriate in their fabulous surroundings.
Meanwhile, when all of this was going on, I was on the cell phone with my jet set buddy Ron Sato planning an impromptu trip. You see, Ron is my travel buddy who lives in Los Angeles, so between his schedule and mine, the logistics are a nightmare. The week of Easter, however, was open for both of us so I said: “Pick a country!” We decided on Greece and off we went. But getting there was a bloddy nightmare. To save on my ticket, I bravely took an economy class seat on Emirates as recommended by my travel agent. Ron excitedly told me to go for it – Emirates had won best economy class and some award. However I forgot that the hub was in Dubai and the majority of the OFWs (overseas Filipino workers) were stationed there. The duty-free shop was overrun with Filipino workers selling cell phones and perfume. Meanwhile, I wanted to slash my wrist at the thought of being trapped in a plane with all of them. Of course, everyone in economy class was yelled at for having overweight hand-carries. Mine was 17kg (ssshhhh!). That was all my makeup and accessories I would never risk losing if my luggage ended in the middle of the Sahara desert.
While I was on the plane (where the seats were so small I had bruises on my legs), my only consolation was the entertainment on the small flat screen in front of me. But it was busted, so I heaved a sigh, popped my sleeping pills and dozed off to the sounds of gum chewing and endless yelling of “HOY! Kumusta ka na? At taga sann ka? Domestic helper ka rin ba?” Translation: “Hey there? Where are you from? Are you a domestic helper as well?” I though I had died and God had sent me to my very own private hell.
After a nine-hour flight, I finally landed and made my way around Athens to the Ledra Marriott hotel, washed the plane off me and got a text from my other editor Gianna Maniego. She told me my weekly deadline was moved up due to the holidays. In a state of panic, I was about to have a major meltdown because I hadn’t slept for 48 hours, the Louis Vuittons under my eyes were enormous and all I wanted was a hot shower and a bed. At that point, I didn’t know where to go as there wasn’t enough time to plan a sight-seeing trip and take in the sights in order to meet my deadline so I decided to go off on a train and head to the Athens Mall.
As they say – when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping. My buddy Ron and I were laughing so hard because we flew all the way to Greece to go to a mall and eat in Ruby Tuesdays (an American chain like Chili’s). After covering my deadline, we planned to soak in the sites for the next day and headed off to the Parthenon on top of the Acropolis, climbing every step in my gold, open-toed sandals. You see, I followed the weather report on CNN but apparently the forecast was wrong because it was still winter. So I bravely went about in a lightweight sweater and a throw, climbing the Acropolis and driving to the edge of the Aegean sea by the Temple of Poseidon.
After a whole day of sight seeing I decided I have had enough of the historical sites. I adamantly wanted to go to Santorini to see the Caldero houses but due to time constraints, we were unable to go. I guess God was watching out for us because the ferry we were supposed to take sank in the middle of the Aegean Sea. I could already see myself screaming “SAVE MY ACCESSORIES!!!!” And swimming with head above water so I don’t mess up my makeup… See, I told you I hate the beach! For the rest of the stay we ended up going around the shopping district in Monasteriki and the garment district in Ermou. Old habits indeed never die!
On my way back, I had to bravely take the economy flight once more. This time I had already resigned myself to being trapped like a sardine in a sardine can with all these OFWs smelling of AXE and Charlie cologne while Jo Malone evaporated into thin air. However, for the first time in my natural life I was elated to go back to the Philippines so I could go back to Discovery Shores in Boracay and sip a tropical drink under the fabulous hat I bought in Greece. There I was sending MMS pictures to my buddy Ron trying to entice him to come over, but I didn’t succeed. Instead, I got two other friends join me in sipping cocktails with a fabulous sunset and ocean view while planting my feet firmly on the bug-free cement flooring by the poolside of Discovery Shores.
All in all, it’s been a pretty good summer. Jetting from the Aegean Sea to the Pacific may sound a bit pretentious until you wake up in economy class smelling like air freshener
Am I being a diva? Or do you lack common sense?
Many people often find my direct attitude to be rude or obnoxious. I really don’t mean to be anything but true to myself. Patience is a virtue I sorely lack and dealing with stupidity is something I cannot tolerate but something I have to deal with in this God-forsaken country of ours. How many times do you have to deal with day-to-day activities and find yourself exasperated because of simple-minded people who take two hours to do a 30-minute task? Just go to any government office from the post office to the Bureau of Internal Revenue and you’ll see that anything that can be done in a few minutes takes up more than half of your day.
What irks me the most is bad service when you are paying full price and expected to leave a generous tip. Hair salons are most often guilty of this. I have had the privilege to experience going to high end salons from Frederick Fekkai to Bench Fix when I am being spontaneous or have time to kill at the mall. In truth, all the operators or stylists are skilled but you get what you pay for. My bare minimum requirement is cleanliness and a good massage at the shampoo bowl. But I found out that in this country, it doesn’t pay to make an appointment because the receptionist will almost always make you wait. Although there are a few salons that are strict about it most are not. When one takes the time to schedule an appointment, it is common courtesy for the salon to honor the time allotted and when they don’t they shouldn’t expect anything less but an irate customer whose time has been wasted. These are just some of the stupid things I have to deal with everyday. Life is stressful enough so going to the hair salon should be relaxing and not a pain in the ass.
Big corporations should train their customer service personnel properly. For instance, I spent over 20 minutes on the phone with a customer service person and after answering certain “security” questions, I was politely told that they could not give out the information I needed. So naturally that is 20 minutes of my life that I will never get back again, prompting me to quickly bitch that a simple answer should have been: “Before I verify your identity we would like you to know that we are not allowed to give out information regarding…” Am I supposed to learn how to be patient with people who lack common sense?
I just don’t get it. The minimum requirement for people in this country to even work as a barista in Starbucks is to have a college degree. Do we blame the individual who has no common sense or the education system? A year ago I was asked to teach a fashion class at the University of the Philippines. I said yes to honor my late father who also taught medicine in UP. I also accepted the task as a form of giving back to society. In doing this job, I was paid a measly amount for one semester. The amount did not even cover my gasoline expenses. However, the money wasn’t really the issue, but I noticed the major difference in an American education vs. a Filipino education. Forget about the outdated facilities because these are not even the major problem but the small salaries the educators who are forced to sell things out of their office to supplement their income. So it’s a case of what comes first, the chicken or the egg. If your teachers don’t get paid properly, you end up with low quality educators and the whole cycle just continues even if the young students are eager to learn.
Why is it that you have to hire a college graduate to work as a sales girl? Doesn’t that tell you that the quality of education in this country sucks? It doesn’t require a college degree to do a sales job and yet I am forced to do so because high school graduates end up as maids or house help. Once in a while, I come across a brilliant employee who is at an entry-level job and yet has the brains to be elsewhere but doesn’t have the right connections. How fair is that?
As I type this, I’d like you to know that it’s not about whining, complaining and bitching but just stating the facts. Just recently, I wrote a funny article in my magazine column and my friends thought it was hilarious. It was humorous and quite tongue-in-cheek, or at least I thought so, until the magazine got a few e-mails from people who didn’t get the meaning of my acerbic wit. The bottom line was just that I had offended the reader’s socioeconomic background. If any of these people actually read anything thicker then a magazine they would find it very funny. Most people don’t get the fact that they need bitches like me to shake up their world, otherwise their lives would be boring and mediocre. I obviously write for the a certain target audience and if what I write offends you, just stop reading.
Although it may sound elitist to you the fact is this country is built on the foundation of haves, have-nots and wannabes. One group will never get the culture of the other. Although I could mention that it is easier to understand someone who has a lower socioeconomic background that would entail a whole other page and frankly I don’t want to be someone to bridge the gap between socioeconomic classes. I leave that to the politicians in my family who believe they can actually help. Now I seriously ask you, am I being a diva or are people around me just lacking in common sense? Perhaps it’s a little of both!
