Saturdays are really busy on the beach as people usually have the weekend off so yesterday was pretty packed as I discovered during my walkabout. My thinking was that Saturday is the busy day here at the beach and Sunday is more of a rest day since there are so many religious people in this country. Today I found out how incredibly wrong I was. I woke early and prepared to take my usual seat in the bungalow while I sipped my daily buko but I was dismayed to find that my bungalow had been taken over by a group of young Filipinos. I considered going and sitting down just to display that this is my domain but Lola informed me that she rented the bungalow out to them for the day which meant I was resigned to the house and nipa hut until they were scheduled to leave at 1500. I was not pleased with this but I figured I would not make waves and let Lola make her money. She rented it to them for 500 pisos which is about 9 bucks and I would have gladly given her the 500 pisos if it meant not losing my favorite spot for the day but whatever. Instead, I had my buko and coffee on the table next to Lola’s store, took my shower and changed and was planning on hanging out in the nipa hut so imagine my surprise as I passed by our dirty kitchen and saw a bunch of strange people in there cooking food and putting stuff away. Walking a little further, our nipa hut had also been taken over by strangers and Lola told me she had just rented the nipa hut and kitchen out for the rest of the day and night to a group of Filipinos from the US who are here on vacation. My first thought was WTF, where the hell am I supposed to hang out all day and night? If I was not pleased about losing my bungalow for the day, you can imagine how I felt about losing everything else for the day (and night). “Let it go”, I told myself. “Let’s just go to the Lazy A and get a club sandwich and relax.” And so I did.
Sari sari store full of Emperador getting ready for the weekend!
I realized right away that Sunday is not a rest day here, it is “family day” as Lola calls it. On Sundays, rather than go to church, everybody comes to the beach to spend the day worshipping a different kind of trinity; eating, drinking and karaoke. As I walked to the Lazy A, every single shed on the beach was packed and overflowing with parties, probably as crowded as I’ve ever seen it. I knew instantly that there would be a walkabout in my near future. I got back to the beach house around noon, the group was cooking stinky bangus on the outdoor grill, I started chatting with them and it turns out they are from San Francisco and they are all Golden State Warrior fans because of course they are. For those who don’t follow sports or the NBA, the Warriors recently beat my beloved Boston Celtics for the NBA title, a fact which this group relished in reminding me of several times. Eventually I just had to get out of there which meant it was time to go walkabout.
It started out well, I hadn’t gone more than 3 or 4 sheds down when I heard the melodious sounds of Filipinos butchering some random song in English so stopped and smiled and instantly was being whisked into the shed by the group. They were an entire family and the guy who seemed to be the head was a character, shirtless with tattoos of his wife and daughter, missing half of his teeth and hair braided into cornrows but he turned out to be the nicest, coolest guy. He introduced himself as Jerry. Everyone would not stop offering me food and shots of Emperador. I told them I don’t like Emperador but would have one shot with them which I did and it was just as nasty as I remember it. They wanted me to do another but I told them I would stick with San Mig Light. The guy introduced me to everyone in his family – his wife, his grown daughter, his brother, his brother’s wife, his friends, everyone. Everyone was half drunk and having so much fun I decided to stay but there was one small problem; the guy’s sister in law was completely drunk and even though she barely spoke English, she kept telling me, “Sir…I want thank you for coming to our party…” I kept saying it was my pleasure but she just would not leave me alone, to the point where everyone there was laughing and joking about it. After about an hour and several songs on the karaoke, I decided it was time to move on so I told them I had to go, they begged me to stay so I told them I’d be back later and headed out. Turns out I only had to go a couple sheds down and I was dragged into another party, one which included 3 or 4 baklas. As you can imagine, I was an instant hit with the baklas who wanted to know everything about me – where was I from, how long was I here, was I married, how old am I, etc. They shoved the songbook in front of me and asked to sing whatever I wanted so I went with the old standby, Country Roads and they all went crazy, signing along in their broken English and clapping their hands. The party was on. Every song I did sent the group further into a frenzy as they all recorded my every move on their phones and giggled to themselves in Tagalog.
Big Jerry, the leader of the band.
On our previous trips, smartphones weren’t as prevalent as they are now here in the Philippines but now everyone has one and everyone records me when I join their parties and sometimes I wonder exactly how many videos of me doing karaoke on the beach exist out there on the interwebs. Quite a few I’m guessing! It will probably be my lasting legacy…
Anyway, in between songs, I went to the sari sari store a couple sheds down to get another cold San Mig Light and as I did so I was besieged by another group who heard me singing in the shed next door and wanted me to come drink and sing with them. “Just wait”, I told them, “I’ll get to you guys next!”
This was starting to get insane.
I finished up with the bakla shed and popped into the other one, the group didn’t seem all that fun so I told them I’d do one song and then had to go. Of course, one song turned into three as it so often does. One woman even requested “Save the Last Dance” which is one of my favorite songs to listen to AND to sing so I had fun with that one. Afterwards I grabbed another SML from the sari sari store there and a familiar face greeted me – it was Belaine, the woman who used to manage the resort part of the Ocean Breeze years ago before it got sold. See, in addition to the actual bar, Peter also had a bunch of bungalows and sheds that he rented out as well, Belaine managed it all and he took good care of her financially. She lived on the compound with her husband, Terry. Both of them were great people and I always wondered what happened to them when the bar was closed. Turns out Belaine runs a sari sari store on the beach and Terry, I assume, still does odd jobs, construction work, etc. We caught up for a bit and then I went back into the shed for another song before taking off to find my next adventure.
By this time I had a pretty good buzz going so I just hit shed after shed as I made my way down the beach. In one shed, there was a girl singing “I’m your Lady” by Celine Dion and I mean this girl was belting it out, hitting the high notes and everything so I had to go in and see for myself…turned out it was a bakla! I took a short video of him singing and then started chatting with the guy there who spoke English and was wearing a Seattle Seahawks hat.
I left and continued walking and sure enough, the rain started. It’s rainy season here right now so it rains at least part of almost every day, if only for a half hour or so. It was so hot and humid that the rain felt GREAT and I was just loving walking around in it. All the Filipinos were running for cover into the sheds and looking at me like I was crazy which, I am really. I was telling everybody as I passed “You should be out here in the rain, this feels great!”. A few times I may or may not have even broke into a chorus of “Singin’ In The Rain” or two as I walked with my arms outspread like Andy Dufresne in The Shawshank Redemption, details are sketchy (ok, I did).
It was getting late so I left and made my way back down the beach towards the beach house but I just HAD to stop in at the shed with the three baklas for some more karaoke and beers (Emperador for them) and then finally, the last stop was the first shed I’d stopped in which was far and away the most fun shed of the night. When I walked in everybody started cheering my return. They were really in their cups now and having a blast. Jerry raised his glass and said “We party today because tomorrow we have to go back to work!” Later I asked him what he does for work and he said he shovels gravel for 300 pisos a day. That’s about $5.50. A DAY. Things like that really put things into perspective for me. Jerry was a great dude, just needed to cut loose and have a good time like the rest of us.
One person who had no problem cutting loose and having a good time was Jerry’s drunk sister in law who was now REALLY drunk and acting the fool. At the sight of me she rushed over and kept thanking me again for coming to their party and eventually the thank yous turned into I love yous and she started getting grabby with her hands. It was starting to get uncomfortable! Nobody in there seemed to mind, they were all just laughing at her antics, even the husband so I guess it was just harmless fun. You know what they say – “what happens in the nipa hut stays in the nipa hut”. Ok, I just made that up. There was a thirteen year old kid there who had the maturity of a person twice his age and he started chatting with me asking questions about where I’m from and such. This kid had the most beautiful head of long black hair, I told him “Man, I wish I had your hair!” and he replied in his broken English, “I weesh I had your eyes!”. My eyes seem to be the root of my popularity in this country as blue eyes are not very prevalent here and Filipinos tell me all the time how beautiful my eyes are, women, baklas, even men. I remember when Virginia was pregnant with Xavier she used to always say “I hope our baby has your eyes and my skin!”. Of course they all got just the opposite, poor kids.
I'd met a guy named Masi at the last hut who had a sister in the US and she apparently sends him a lot of money because he drove a nice black pickup truck. He lives in Mangaldan, not too far away and knows everybody here he says so he took me down to the end of the beach to introduce me to the Barangay Captain which is sort of like the mayor of the beach. He says they are good friends and he wanted to introduce me so I would have a hook up in case we ever need anything here. He said I just needed to call the Captain and everything would be taken care of. I was starting to feel like Don Pedro! Anyway, just my luck the guy was out running errands and I couldn't wait around all night so I walked back to the beach house. I got home late and fired up the karaoke machine for the visitors from San Francisco and we ate and sang deep into the night. This day was completely off the chain, absolutely the craziest walkabout I’ve ever done. And I loved every minute of it!
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