Tante Teresita Visits the Philippines
THE TRIP. Teresita, or Tante, as we fondly call her, has decided to go home to the Philippines after what seems a century of living abroad, most of it spent in Vienna. She wanted to search for a brother she had not seen since leaving the country in her early twenties – the time when she left for the US for further studies in nursing. There she met her husband and, eventually, they moved to Vienna in Austria. That was in 1966. She is now in her mid-70s.
Tante has an Austrian boyfriend of the same age. It was him who encouraged her to go because she’s not getting any younger – his own words. That was the day of so many to follow before touchdown. She never stopped calling me to discuss the one thousand and one activities she wanted to do when in the Philippines.
The problem was she did not know where to begin. And if ever she had made her mind up on her priorities, it didn’t mean it would be the same when she wakes up the next day. Focus is a strange word to her. Tante Teresita brags about her being spontaneous, but spontaneity is a word that gets a different meaning according to how she defines it.
I received a text message from Tante the day she arrived at the airport in Manila. I saw it quite late. Her “sundo “- this friend picking her up – was not there at the exit door, which she thought was the right place to wait. “Never mind, “she wrote again when she didn’t hear from me, “there are many hotels, so no problem. “I called her, but her number was unreachable – she was using her Austrian te number. Oh, I tried to reach her but in vain. She waited for hours until the airport police took notice and told her where to find her “sundo “who was patience incarnate. They didn’t give up waiting for her even if it took forever.
GRIMALDI HOTEL. T reminded of the time when another friend coming home after so many years took the same flight Walter and I had. She was comatose right after fastening her seatbelt. For some technical reason, the trip didn’t start as scheduled and took at least an hour before it could finally take off. The captain apologizing for the delay through the speakers, brought our friend back to life and asked where we could already be. Still in Vienna, my dear, Walter assured her. “Get back to sleep; we’ll wake you up when we’re in Manila. ”
Once in Manila and out of the Manila airport terminal, we crossed the road and took the ramp down to the designated waiting area marked with letters A to Z. Opposite the waiting area is a building again marked with letters A to Z where your “sundo “waits. Walter and I waited under the letter C, which is the first letter of my family name. Our friend stayed with us, ignoring the fact her name does not start with an initial like mine. She said her “sundo “– her sister – would find her but never did. It was getting late, and we still had a long way to our destination, so we volunteered to drive her to her hotel. She could not remember the name of the hotel which a friend booked for her. “Grimaldi or something like that, “she said. She wasn’t sure about the name, but at least she knew where it could be. In Ayala, in Makati. We asked the police for information, but he could not help us. Never heard of Hotel Grimaldi. She would just take a taxi so we could already go home, she said. No, we’ll wait till you find your hotel, Walter told her. The hotel turned out to be Gilarmi Apartments. Her sister has been there since touchdown, waiting for her. Walter wondered how much the taxi ride would have cost from Ayala to Montecarlo.
THE TRIP TO BUKID-NON. “Oh, they spoil me here in Tagaytay, “Tante Teresita – at home at last with her host – told me in a text message. That she and two other friends from Vienna would like to visit me in Bukid-non was the next thing she said. Having told her that my dogs make so much noise, she asked me to book her a room in a hotel owned by a Bulacan town Mayor she met in Vienna in November last year. He was there with his wife and with other Bulacan mayors. Tante kept him and wife company with their shopping spree in Vienna despite the cold and took them to the Christmas markets. “I could stay in their hotel when I am in Bulacan, that’s what he told me “She was ecstatic. While I would have said, “Oh, sure! “Teresita took the bait, hook, line, and sinker. Oh, Teresita, how naive can you get!
“Please book us a room for the 13th and 14th of January,” this she told me after she had spoken with her friends about final travel dates. The 13th coincided with the lunch invite another friend was hosting for her arrival. Yes, she knew this, she said. She was coming with a friend to lunch, and they would leave at 6 a.m to avoid the traffic jam. Didn’t she think it was too early, I asked. She was staying with her friend somewhere in Metro Manila, and the lunch invite was also in the city, in San Juan. She heard what I said, but it took a while for it to sink in. She thought the lunch invite was in Bulacan. Poor Tante! She says yes to everything you say to her before you could even finish what you were trying to tell her. She always wanted to agree with you, which you may find sweet, but her habit of interrupting you in mid-speech can be so annoying. Ask her again a minute later, and she would not have any clue. “Malay ko, hmp! “(I have no idea) is always her swift reply, followed by her signature sneer.
She and her friends didn’t come to my hometown as scheduled. They arrived on the 14th. The room reservation our town mayor made for Tante and co. had to be changed. Why the mayor? I know her personally, and through me, she met Teresita during that trip in November with the other Bulacan mayors. Unlike the other mayors, our mayor and her husband delivered their promise to find time for Teresita once Teresita was in town. It was excellent, the reception Teresita and friends received from the first couple of Plaridel, my hometown – it was more than what Tante had expected.
TERESITA AND HER FICKLE MIND. After making short trips to other towns in the north, Teresita was back in Manila once more – this time staying in a house owned by another Vienna friend – and didn’t know what to do before hitting the road again. I invited her to have lunch at my place on the coming weekend. Invite lost in translation! Her host called me to make sure that Teresita is back end of January, lest Teresita misses her Ilocos trip on the 2nd of February. She was to spend the rest of the month with me, and I was the last person to know. I would not mind having her around (I have one friend staying in my house while waiting for a job call), but I have no room for her unless I share mine with her and risk nightmares.
My houseguest – he met Teresita on her first visit to my place – began drawing plans on how to entertain her while in Bukid-non. They would rent a car (I only have one car, and I need it all day long) to travel to a neighboring province and have lunch or dinner with the rich, the famous, and the beautiful people he knows there. My houseguest is on a first-name basis with these VIPs. I can hear Teresita’s heart beating so fast, and I wonder why.
After I made up my room and inflated the air bed she can use, I received a call from Tante’s host. She changed her mind, no longer coming to Bukid-non. The first host she had in Tagaytay called and told Teresita they were Albay-bound to watch the Mayon Volcano erupting. They could pick her up should she want to tag along. Of course, she would love it! Earlier that day, her current host and I were convincing Teresita to take the bus to Albay and stay at a friend’s house. She wanted to see her, anyway. Too dangerous, Teresita said. We suggested other options – go to Coron in Palawan. Or anywhere. No, she would go to Bulacan and stay with me until she was invited by her Tagaytay friends to go with them to watch a volcano spewing fountains of hot lava and massive ash plums. Suddenly, the Mayon was no longer a danger to Teresita.
SOS. Her host, who was home on a short vacay, was getting frustrated. She could not make her plans because of her house guest. She wrote to say HELP when the Tagaytay hosts phoned her later that day to say that they may only be able to do Albay on Sunday.
Sorry, I could not help you, I said. I made arrangements again with my bricklayers to go on with the project I put on hold for another time because Teresita was coming. I wanted to make Tante’s stay at my house a pleasant experience.
I have not heard from them since last night. I can only imagine Teresita covered with volcanic ashes — bedazzled, nevertheless, by the dangerous eruption.