PARLEY

MV Trans Asia-China
En route CDO-Cebu
RATING: Avoid like the plague

If there is one floating junk in the Philippine seas as of the moment, it's MV Trans Asia-China. In a recent trip to Cagayan de Oro, our ship almost hit a jetty, broke its steering gear, turned back towards Cebu, then turned back and crawled towards CDO again. The paddling speed forced many passengers including me to charge the captain's cabin, for a mutiny of sorts, and force him to bring back the ship to Cebu. Arriving back in Cebu at 1 a.m. (the ship still sailed at 2 a.m.) , I boarded Super Ferry 17 at 9 a.m., only to over take Trans Asia-China in the middle of the sea at around noon.

Photo: the captain is the guy at the top left while his chief engineer is at top right.

Bad aroma

Boat trips are always an adventure with all the action, the romance and even tragedy rolled in. In a recent trip to Cagayan de Oro City, disaster strikes early as I had to contend for an economy class bunk and beside a snoring, sweating man at point blank range from his major odor artillery. I guess I had to stay awake this night.

Chastity

This is Chastity. Four-years-old, just over two feet tall and as light as straw. I see her often roaming around Gen. Maxilom Avenue and Fuente Osmeña in Cebu City with her mother, and I think if ever my P20 would ever help in changing what could be the inevitable for her.

15-peso comfort

A foray into an unkown carinderia gave me a gastronomic revolution while roaming around Ayala Center Cebu. Goota act fast, gotta act discreet. Then I thought of the mall's Comfort Lounge. For P15, I get total privacy during my most volatile minutes. No burping and farting men outside the cuble, just me and a dry, clean cubicle for myself.

As I wrapped up , I tried to peep into the comfort basket alcohol - empty, cologne - empty, hand lotion - empty, cotton buds -empty. Good thing the baby powder has some little soul left.

I went out smiling. But wondering whether the P15 could keep this business. Maybe the empty bottles are signs of things to come.

SWEET LIFE

I saw Manang (uhmm I forgot to ask for her name) while I was on a jeep to Carbon Market -- Cebu City's biggest public market -- to buy some fruits and maybe some DVDs (this is Shipreck Cove for pirates). Curious about his two crates of bright, juicy yellow mangoes, I asked her if she's selling it in the market and so it started a barrage of stories from her, which really warmed my heart.

I learned she had been a mango vendor for decades already, following the same route from barangay Guadalupe (where I live) to Carbon Market. I know she goes around her neighbors to buy their mangoes, mostly grown from backyard trees. I also learned that mangoes has kept her family alive and sent children and grandchildren to school.

Unlike most vendors who complain of low sales and surging costs and diving market prices, my dear manang beams with pride that she is earning briskly. She says people continually search for her because of her sweet mangoes. And her two crates -- some 60 kilograms -- in all can be wiped oupt in two hours. She owes her luck to prayer and to the Sto. Niño. Pride and impeccable faith.

I envy her optimism, wishing silently that someday I could look forward to my work with much enthusiasm. She is a mango vendor, many look down to her and her kind, but she prides in her self and her sweet mangoes. And she is doubly happy that people buy her mangoes by the bag. That is fulfillment to her. Not piles of cash or swaggering cars and mansions.

Before I went down, I said goodbye to my new friend. She then pulled out one mango from her crate and gave it to me. "Taste it," she said. "And you will see how sweet my mango really is!" . I took the fruit, look at it, smiled and waved her good luck.

For several hours, while looking for DVDs my mind could not fly off away from the mango in my pocket. I hurried home and sliced the soft, juicy mango on the side. It was really sweet.

I remember manang. We only talked for a few minutes but she did impart a big lesson to me. Our attitude reflects shows in our work, our products. I envy her. Somehow at the back of my mind I wished life for me could be as simple as hers. Somehow, I just would like to smile everyday. And I even have a hard time doing that now.

Paradise, lost

Lakawon Island Resort
Off Cadiz City, Negros Occidental
Tag: Worth visiting

Lakawon Island off Cadiz City in Negros Occidental is an island getaway for urban Bacolod. Just like Cebu's Mactan or Bantayan Island, Davao's Samal Island or Ilolio's Boracay.

My friends packed our bags and took a six hour bus-boat-bus-tricycle-pumboat ride (that's just one way) to what we expected to be a paradise island sweetened by the sugar haciendas around it. The island did not disapoint me, but a few other things did.

The island was great. A dozen hectares of land bordered by white powdery sand. The water was cool although spiny corals could prick sensitive beach feet. Only around a quarter of the island is resort beach, one half is for a fishing village, while the other half is vast wetlands and seaweeds.

The island can be circumnavigated in around 30 minutes. At the back of the resort is the tail of the tadpole-shaped island..a sandbar that is a perfect photo op during sunset. Seaweeds, however, carpet the place and spoils what could have been a perfect sun-sky-sea-beach view.

Now the bad part. The resort buck guests for extra charges – separate fees for room accommodation (P1,800/night for two people), and entrance fees (P50/person) and banca (P300 two way/group). They also threatened to charge us corkage fees if we do not order from their rather restaurant.

The worst thing about the resort, however, are the flies. They are almost everywhere and they seem to have an appetite for fresh human flesh. With electricty and aircondition only running between 5:30 p.m. up to 6 a.m., sleeping inside the cottage was hotly impossible. Just at the back of the resort, some 10 meters from the airconditioned cottages was a garbage dump.

Lonely fan

Event: Manny Pacquiao-Jorge SOlis bout
Venue: SM City Cebu Cinema 2
Verdict: boring (excpet for round 6)

There's something about sports that possesses people. Manny Pacquiao's bout with Jorge Solis turned a 1,000-seater cinema eerily silent, ignite it like a bomb. Sports halt traffic, stalls time, unites nations. This one was no exception.

I was alone (as usual) as I took my P500 ticket to watch the fight live at SM City Cebu Cinema 2. Z-15 is my seat number. Yes, it was way up there near the rafters. I chose the spot, to have a vantage view of everybody, to be on top of things. As I tread my way up, I noticed some vacant seats around.

It was nice to see the esnemble: an old couple already in their golden years, young people dating, a father and his two kids, young and old, men and women.

There are spoilers of course -- women who could have been cajoeld by use of force to watch a man's first wife (sports) were busier with their pop corns than the fight. They stand up and grind all the knees in the row for their soda or the restroom just as when fighters slug it out in the last 20 seconds of round 12.

A foreigenr several seats down me was almost jumping out if his seats everytime Manny was in the attack. Punching, weaving, shouting at Manny to press on as if he could hear him. Nobody laughed, everybody were in their own world -- grinding their teeth on every punch, grinning at every hit.

The first few rounds, the cinema was silent as Manny tried to get inside the 27-inch reach of his opponent. When the PInoy landed his first powerful punch in the round 5, the cinema erupted. The fight was on. Two round later, a bloody Manny pushed on. He was afraid his wounds would break bigger, Gotta end the fight fast. Knockout just two minutes into the round.

I spent P500 for three hours to watch a sports event. I was silent the entire time and there was no beer. Hardly worth it. But the fight was great. Manny was too good. If he only he could stay in the ring.

The announcer announces Manny as the victor. He calls him "congressional aspirant Manny Pacman Pacquiao." Everybody in the cinema laughs, then file out. Some good things just never last.

Stinky and delicious

TARGET: Pasil Fish Market
DATE: April 8
RATING: 5 stars

It is always gratifying to find treasures amid the rubble, the trash and the bad smell.

This was what I discovered one early morning as I took a sip of the famous broth from the "soup street" of Pasil Fish Market right in the bowels of Cebu City's congested, smelly and crime-prone market district.

At 1 a.m., the lack of lights and the many shirt-less men running around, pushing and pulling tubs of fish make the scene scary. A closer look, however, shows everything seems to be nice. The barangay tanod (in full uniform) acts as a traffic attendant and security guard in the street between the market and San Nicolas Parish Church. Asked for directions, the tanod was accommodating enough to give us tips on where to find the soup.

Facing the market, the soup heaven is on the right side street -- an array of women and their huge boiling cauldrons. I took a bowl of soup of a fish I could not pronounce (the name was a mix of the words stab, stone and dance in Bisaya).

The white meat fish tail was swimming in a reddish sea of light red tomato. Spicy, sweet and hot. Paired with a P6 Sparkle softdrink, the effects of several bottles of beers hours before seemed to dissipate with the steam.

Completing the experience was the loud-mouthed but funny group of boys sitting a few feet from me. They were talking about their love life and how they plan to raise money to buy a new shirt. In one corner, one kid put a little too much chili on his soup and was sweating feverishly, cursing on his hunger and his inability to devour his spicy fish. Somehow, these scene made me smile and appreciate the better sides of life.

The smell of the fish being traded in the market more than completes the ambiance. Definitely worth doing again.

Never again

TARGET: Bohol Tropics Resort
PLACE: Tagibilaran City, Bohol
DATE: March 31 to April 2
ACCOMMODATION: Super Twin Room
CONCLUSION: Won't be coming back

There is no beach in this resort. If that is not bad enough, here's more:

If you are not a white-haired caucasian or a chinky-eyed no-English East Asian, this place is not for you. Their staff only smile at foreigners. Their front desk people turn blind at brown-skinned working class can't-afford-a-tip Filipino like me. Yeah, their rooms and villas look great among the palm trees, but the service more than wreaks all your initial landing impressions.

Making an online reservation weeks before I was to stay (on business and a little pleasure) the hotel staff assigned me to a super twin room (four beds!). As if it was not bad enough, my room (room 254) was out in the wilderness, at the farthest corner of the resort. I was paying too much for a room too big and too far. I had to endure minutes of walk in a seemingly melting asphalt road under the super hot sun to get to the resort's jewel: the pool. For a time I forgot I was actually paying (big) for all these.

And yeah, they don't want their guests to use their pool too, which they close at 8 p.m., leaving my long-anticipated dip under the moonlight to tatters. The staff left one pool open though, a tub-sized puddle already packed by ten sweating men by the time I got there. Their poolside showers don't work and they charge use of the jacuzzi at P350 per hour. This resort robs you. With class.

There are always good sides to everything. Kudos to the night crew of Cafe Atanacio who promptly served my two 50-peso San Mig Light and several requests for ice. The band played great, but only until 11 p.m.

The best thing of all? The tricycles (P30 from Island City Mall to resort) can drive all the way up to the front lawn of your room. But still hope I would never return to this place again.

p.s. They boast of a wi-fi service but it only covers several square feet of their front desk at veeeerrrrryyy sloooooow speeeeed.