(Manila, Philippines - 2006)

This travel is unlike those I have written so far. Our visit to the Philippines was mainly to see our families and folks, but I’m sure, my story about it would be interesting to some who’s been following my travel journal.

To avoid busy travel for Christmas season that year, my wife and I decided to offset our travel to the Philippines at least a month earlier from Christmas. It was around the first week of November 2006 when my wife went ahead of me. I followed her three weeks later. As usual, I took a direct flight from Vancouver to Manila. It was one of those unbearably long flights as Philippine Airlines 747 aircraft had to cross the Pacific 14 hours. This has always been the shortest flight available, otherwise the only choice one could have was to sit in longer flights with connection via either Hongkong, Tokyo, Seoul or LA before arriving to Manila.

It was Friday morning when I landed to Manila. With a connecting flight still to catch going to Legazpi City, I rushed towards Cebu Pacific counter to have my flight and e-ticket verified which I brought with me, but only to be told that the flight I was going next was canceled.

Explaining reasonably how appalled I was about it since I confirmed the flight less than 24 hours ago, the counter employee looked very apologetic listening to me intently.

Now with his fingers busily tapping the keyboard and the headset phone backed to his ears calling someone else, I realised that he was trying to be on top of the situation. The effort I saw from him was good enough to further diffuse my already settling disappointment.

“Sir, I could arrange a seat for you with PAL (Philippine Airlines) flying to Cebu. They will have a short-stop at Legazpi. Only thing, though sir, is you may have to rush at this time to the gate!” he explains in a face beaming with anticipation that I agree.

Getting a quick glimpse at domestic Security Screening area and at my wristwatch, I then factored-in the situation, and answered him with ease this time, “You know what? Put me in to your next available flight tomorrow!”

With hundreds of passengers lined up over at Security Screening and a 30-minute window to catch the flight to hop in, I didn’t think for a second that I could beat that!

Next thing I knew, at around nine o’clock in the morning, I was in a shuttle service going to a hotel in upscale Makati. They provided me a one-night accommodation as my next flight was scheduled the next morning. This, of course, is a standard procedure for any airline.

After settling inside my suite, I phoned my wife who - with my in-laws, were about to leave the house to pick me at Legazpi Domestic Airport. The whole excitement was replaced with dismay, but the situation was understood after a short while.

I went to bed, then woke up and showered, proceeded to a restaurant to have late lunch. That was around three in the afternoon.

After that, I left and explored Makati’s Greenbelt area. The afternoon sun was out and the weather was generally balmy, but thanks to an ecologically-friendly and inter-connected design of the area, I didn't have any indication of heatstroke as the temperature was maintained comfortably cool all throughout.

Greenbelt, as most of you would know, is located in Manila’s corporate and financial hub. So it is not unusual to find fine restaurants, top-of-the-line shopping malls, best bars, a good amount of foreigners - except that, it’s much crowded - a good crowd nevertheless - than one would expect. To be continued…

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HE WAS one of the artists I admire most, he was near-perfect human to me in many ways, but this limited mindset totally obscured the objective I should have had afforded him - as his admirer: empathy and understanding. I realised he's only human like me after all.

As a young boy back in the late 70's, there was this sad song which lyrics I did not understand fully, but a soulful and innocent voice got ingrain in my early mind. It was the song about a mouse pet. Ben was my first opportunity to hear of his talent.

In my high school years back in the Philippines, at the height of MTV's popularity and its infancy, I had the privilege to take a glimpse of the person behind the voice. This time more imperviously impressed to my teenage consciousness: the backward moon-walking, the letter-initialed baseball jacket (he wore in Thriller video), the crisp fedoras, the aviator sunglasses, the wet-look hair, the single white glove. His Thriller music video was stunning.

His music was to become the centre of conversation with friends; and at typical times, his dance moves became a common ground among us in bragging-off new-found moon-walking prowess. At year-end school parties, he was with us - through a reverberating high-pitched stylistic voice in Billie Jean or Smooth Criminal single from our high school's rented sound system.



Years past, and the spell I was under lost its power. My interest with him waned and so memories with friends and our happy hanging out fluttered away with times. I endeavoured a path obligated to me by the norm rules and expectation of society: further education, career, family, etc.

In the late nineties and onward to 2000's, the innocent fascination I carried toward him as a teenager would rekindle, but this time, it was painted with regret, coldness, and the mood dispirited. My own ignorance on how I should understand one's frailty was muddled; such needed capacity at that time seemed diminished, if not absent.

He made moves regrettable to many and few understood him. I tended to be one of the former. Fame had enabled him and somehow veered him off from normalcy, which fed his eccentricity (to the eyes of many) and consequently, his recluse and temporary downfall.

He's dead now. The golden torch had finally lit-out for him. But for me, I would still hum as I listen to Ben in my idle time, and if my feet would allow me to moonwalk away to the tune of Billie Jean once in while, I will - just to remind myself, that Michael Jackson, the collective epitomy of our 80's vibrant youth - is still around in his songs and in my consciousness.

"You are hard to love, but hard not to"*...goodbye Michael Jackson!

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*quote adapted from Larry King