Anh To Be Surprised

One

DECEMBER 19th

Joshie?

I woke up startled. My back had been resting on a Monobloc chair when what sounded like a choir boy called me.

Yup! What is it?

Lord, the chairman of our finance and marketing committee was tinkering on his Macbook Air when I came near. He stopped typing his collection report as he tried to whisper about an errand.

My father just messaged me in Gmail and asked if we could already repay him the P100,000 we borrowed before we left for this exchange program. I understand you already have the check.

Right, I said, clearing my throat, I have the one from Chevron Philippines.

Please deposit it in BPI—Bank of the Philippine Islands. I will text you the account number minutes from now.

From the corner of my eye, I saw one of the National Youth Commission (NYC) commissioners enter. He was to be our guest speaker. I checked my watch, 9:30 am. Typical Filipino time. This has been the way Pinoy programs start at the very least.

I was about to make my mad dash to the doorway when I faced Lord again.

Can you tell YL about this? He might want to do a head count on ‘the flock’. I was alluding to our youth leader, Randy, who acts needy at times when it comes to group finances.

I will. He understands this is your duty, anyway. Lord smiled, patting me on the shoulder.

You see, I’ve been proud to be the bookkeeper, slash, treasurer, slash, auditor of this year’s batch of Philippine youth ambassadors. We called ourselves Dugong Dakila, the Filipino word for Noble Blood. All twenty-seven of us Filipinos across the islands made it to this year’s Fortieth Ship for Southeast Asian Youth Program.

I used to work for the government as a state auditor when this program flew near my radar.

SSEAYP is a cultural exchange program where youths from the ten ASEAN countries and Japan, the sponsor, interact with each other on board a cruise ship—almost like the ill-fated luxury liner Titanic, I swear!—through team-building activities and discussion of world issues.

For 2013, the ship docked at five ports of call—Japan, Vietnam, Singapore, Thailand and Philippines—where we youth delegates, three hundred and fifteen in all, experienced homestays with our foster families for three days and two nights, inclusive of visits to historical sites and tourist spots.

Admittedly one of the greatest life-changing decisions I’ve made was joining this fifty-one-day program. Oh, I would say, almost a hundred-day program. Prior to the cruise were two grueling weeks of physical, mental, emotional—and other aspects ending in training and a month of preparatory activities from language learning to embassy visits and even the way we smile and pose (as a group, not selfie) for the camera.

I wasn’t allowed to take even a personal leave without pay, so I quit.

Well, I had no regrets whatsoever since I have a second professional license—as a teacher.

It had always fascinated me to deal with teens. The way they move and think.

Perhaps it’s true that I never fully enjoyed my high school life. I’ve never entertained the idea of crushing on someone. No parties or sleepovers. No pranks. No cutting of classes. None at all.

I chowed down books all the time, even during holidays, and studying for tests in advance. It never really occurred to me that I would long for the stage of life that I fast-forwarded. But for the time being, none of these noble-blooded youths have a course relating to finance. None of them wanted to get chummy with the money. And so I became Finance Officer.

BACK AT ROOM 312 OF the Bayview Park Hotel in Manila, I fell flat on the sheets. Nah, I’m sure YL wouldn’t miss me. This wasn’t the first time I’d been sent away for what I call an immunity task.

What had just started minutes ago in the conference room was a debriefing session. This was the term they used to mean a gradual process of getting ourselves back to normal after being away from all the newfound friends we’ve had on board.

Imagine being in the ship for quite some time, only disembarking for homestays and site visits. Must be unnerving. But what’s more unnerving was having seen the debriefing matrix minutes before I entered the elevator. Slated for today was a pledge of social contribution. It was like asking our stressed, travel-depressed batch to immediately present plans of action for our respective communities.

Lucky me, I had the chance to be away on an errand. A clean getaway.

My mind was still in a blur. Like the fog created when your breath hits the mirror. I still had no clue on my social contribution. My ideas to help haven’t settled yet.

Yesterday was all evaluation. Among those countries we visited, we rated which one had the best welcome program, the best food served during reception, and so on. We were so careful never to use the term worst. We instead rambled on suggestions for improvement. That was the way to act diplomatic. To be ambassadorial.

It was already 10:00 am when I checked my phone clock. There on my Facebook news feed was a photo of MS Nippon Maru, the ship we youth ambassadors once called home.

Ho-hum. SSEAYP sickness again filled the air. This was what the older batches told us. An incurable disease with symptoms of instant longing, sudden drops of tears and occasionally going over memorabilia like photos and shirts autographed by participating youths.

Fifty-one days of being together, then cut short out of the blue when everyone bade each other goodbye. Even a lifetime, I guess, would not be enough to recover.

I clicked the profile of the person who’d uploaded the ship photo. Thuy Anh Nguyen Xuan. Beside the full name was in parenthesis, Anh VPY. Vietnamese Participating Youth. Hmmm. I took a second look at her profile picture.

Dark eyes fixed in an oval face. Not much like a football but just enough roundness where you can run your fingers around from the top to the sides. In a flash, the face reminded me of what grew from the tree where the main characters of The Tale of Kien—regarded as the most significant work of Vietnamese literature—fell in love. And what fruit was that? A peach. Her face was a peach where its juiciness can be smelled from afar.

Could this not be the same PY who’d told me outside the laundry room that she was always the first one to answer my phone calls on board?

For the first time in my twenty-four-year nondescript, ‘book-bound’ life, I fell in love with her cabin-mate from Laos, Tenaa. Tenaa and I belonged to the same discussion group on HIV/AIDS. Once we had this wildfire session where everyone held a glass and strips of paper. The instruction was to toast your glass with another’s and to drop a strip of paper in the glass of one you merely consider as a friend. Should you have a more than friend feeling with that person, you would fold the strip before dropping.

In one minute, I received ten strips with only one of them folded—Tenaa’s. That was my turning point. I finally knew someone who would finally accept my total package, not just the cerebral cover.

From that day on, I called her cabin almost every night, sent her snacks and dropped love notes in her message basket. Out of my efforts, she returned nothing.

Seeing Anh in Facebook made me wonder how I only managed to have a few friends during the program. It was really tough getting to know people when you’re too busy with your romantic pursuit on board. I pushed everyone away while building my whole world around ‘the one’. Maybe first-timers in this game called love are simply overwhelmed in making their moves. I decided to send her a message.

Hi, Anh! You’re Tenaa’s roommate, right? I know you went out with Adul in one of the NPs.

Adul was my Thai friend who’d stayed two doors away from me in the ship. He was in Cabin 342; I was in 346.

The most notable arena for dating during SSEAYP days was the NP or national presentation. It was a seventy-five-minute showcase of songs, dances and the like which reflected the culture of each country. I recalled how our Philippine NP ran to an overtime of two hours because we had a lot of talents lined up. Besides, no one else was on queue for stage rehearsal since we were the last country to present.

Yes, it’s me. Hi, Josh! On board we didn’t have much chance to talk, her reply came after five minutes.

Yeahhhh... too bad.

We should have talked more. Most of the time we just talked on the phone.

How are you with Adul? I dragged my cabin neighbor to our conversation.

Adul and I are friends. I think we enjoy talking to each other.

Wow, that’s nice. You talked a lot with Tenaa about me?

I sounded like I was fishing for info on what else had happened in their cabin.

Sometimes.

"What did she say? Spill the secrets, hahaha," I dared her.

During the last days she wandered around a lot so whenever you called, she wasn’t in the cabin. She said you could be a good brother to her. You’re caring.

Caring is a very positive trait, I know. It’s just that if the only-a-brother tag comes with it, caring now sucks.

Awwwww. Only bro. Hmmm.

I reacted like I’d been told of it for...the first time. Message relay it may be, but it still hurts.

She has a boyfriend already.

Yup, I know. In Filipino culture, guys still fight for love as long as the girl is not yet married.

Gosh, it was like getting too absorbed in radio drama. Love in the airwaves.

Oh, really?

"How about in Vietnam? Haha."

In Vietnam, same. :)) But not that popular.

She is loyal to her boyfriend. In movies, a girl sometimes picks the one recently met over the one bonded for long. But yeah, this is reality...

From being a trying-hard radio gaga, I’m now a movie buff.

Maybe this is not the right time.

Yep...

After some time when you meet again, she could change her mind.

There was a twinkle of humanity in her reply.

Yeah, in Langkawi perhaps.

Malaysia was set to host the annual SSEAYP reunion on April 2014. The SSEAYP International General Assembly (SIGA) is an event for all PYs and foster families to reunite and relive memories.

I will save for it. That’s my hope. Change of heart and mind in the future. How about you, did Adul attempt to make a move on you?

I don’t know. Maybe it was a crush. But it went nowhere. So we are good friends.

So I did a more serious move than Adul, right? Ha-ha. He was proud to say that we were dating girls from the same cabin.

Ha-ha! That’s so cute. You went with Tenaa to which NP?

Thai NP, I think.

I forgot the only NP she agreed to go with me, and so the thought of Adul made me say Thai. Tenaa refused my second date invitation saying that she would be seeing the next NP with her whole Lao contingent. It turned out that she—all by herself—was a few steps ahead of me when we entered Dolphin Hall.

And other VA?

Anh knew a lot, being her cabin-mate.

Voluntary activities, or VA, were special segments held on board by any contingent wishing to give an extra show of talents not displayed during NP. As the name suggests, it was optional unlike the NP. Contingents either host local games, film screening, or any fancy stuff to keep PYs bonded anytime from seven to eleven in the evening.

Yup, Christmas party too. I was about to give up on her when she missed some VA.

Philippines, noted for having the longest holiday season in the world, celebrates Christmas from December sixteenth until the first Sunday of January—‘the Feast of the Epiphany’.

Other contingents like Japan and Vietnam strutted to queue up for our parlor games and the Muslim delegation—Brunei, Malaysia and Indonesia—almost threw off their kufi caps in delight upon seeing us Philippine Pys, or PPYs, as we were affectionately known, host a Christmas party on board. A multiracial contingent, Singapore, paraded in their tuxes and frilly evening gowns while the Buddhist contingents—Cambodia, Laos, Myanmar and Thailand—got their palms filled with Filipino appetizers of Chichacorn (deep-fried corn kernels) and sun-dried mango chips.

If there was one person who, I thought, had barely enjoyed the fun, it was Tenaa for sure. She left fifteen minutes after I gave her a plastic rose and put my Santa hat on her head. Lao guys thought what I did was sweet. Yeah, so sweet. Sweet enough to leave early and have sweet dreams right away in her cabin. It seemed a heartless act to others but for me, it wasn’t. I just consoled myself thinking she wasn’t feeling well because that was how she looked. Or maybe I never ran out of excuses thinking that I loved her.

And then? Anh asked.

I know deep inside that she is worth fighting for.

I sounded dramatic with my persistence.

Do you plan to go to Laos?

Yes, I’ll save up for it. Explore Laos and visit her.

The conversation mostly revolved on me and so I decided to get her involved.

Do you have a boyfriend in Vietnam?

Yes, I do. But I also have a PY who likes me.

And you told Adul that?

He, the PY, is going to Vietnam next year. Adul knows about that.

To see you? Haha.

Yes. To see me.

Only to see you? Wow!

So I have no idea what to do.

Introduce him to your boyfriend and the three of you will go for picnic, ha-ha, I suggested in a diplomatic but silly tone.

That doesn’t sound very plausible.

Ha-ha-ha. Just a friendly gesture.

With that the conversation was at an end, and since my phone battery was running low, I plugged it in to charge it when a buzz sounded. It was a card swiped through the door slot. The door swung open to reveal my Muslim roommate and fellow PPY Zed.

Oh, what are you doing here? Zed asked, looking surprised.

I’m heading for the bank, I replied while fixing my hair.

Well, can you do me a little favor?

Umm, yeah! Sure. I decided to give in to my freeloading friend to rid him of suspicion. I didn’t want my contingent to think I was delaying the deposit because I was absorbed in a chat, trying to make friends with a PY I’d never spoken with on the ship.

If you pass by a money changer, can you convert them all to pesos? Zed asked while handing me an envelope of mixed foreign bills.

No problem. And thanks for the idea, though! I unzipped my pouch and took out the remaining greenbacks.

The bank accommodates me until 3:00 pm anyway, as long as I’m already inside even when the guard starts drawing the shades. I flagged a passing jeepney and got in, thinking I’d have almost the whole day for myself.

As long as I’ll get this done and am back at the hotel by six.

Two

December 23 rd

Two days had passed since we PPYs had left for our respective hometowns, and two illnesses began taking a toll on me. They began to affect me following what had happened last night.

The first was SSEAYP sickness. My fellow PPY Sheldon, from Davao, a city in southern Philippines, left me an offline Facebook message on how the debriefing session didn’t live up to its purpose. According to him, NYC rushed us into thinking of what good we could exactly do to our communities, when we hardly even felt our soul at home. He pointed out that if NYC wanted us to act normal, we had to first be normal. Our debriefing should have let us outline our life plans. How to answer Quo Vadis? (Where do we go from here?) I smiled at how radical Shelly —Sheldon hates this name because it sounds sissy-pants—has morphed into his idol Harry Potter.

NYC’s point was that we didn’t have the luxury of time but I saw eye-to-eye with Sheldon.

With your body physically present but your mind and hearts teleporting from home to any of the memorable areas in the ship like the Lido Terrace, the home of beer and noodle parties—where PYs get out of hand at times but keep their sanity intact in cleaning up the mess before the 11:00 PM curfew—or the Grand Bath where we strip down to our crown jewels without shame before dipping into the steaming pool where water shoots from the vents to massage our backs.

The second illness that got me was lovesickness. I messaged Tenaa in her WhatsApp account. No, it wasn’t an outright ‘I Love You’ greeting. Just an opener:

Hello, How Ya Doin’?

Her reply left me speechless.

Hello. Just want you to know my boyfriend and I broke up because of the pics you tagged me with in Facebook. He didn’t understand why I was always with you on the ship.

This was followed by all those sad yellow emoticons.

I didn’t know how to reply. Did she even sound sad? Or sad and angry at the same time?

I texted Sherisse and Lovell—PPYs who have had years of experience with their boyfriends—for their suggestions on what I should tell Tenaa. Their replies were mostly a jab at the guy, but followed with a logical note.

"Just for the tagged pics they broke up? OMG! That guy is