Cam whoring, a self-consummated prostitution, is the catharsis of my pooing soul trapped in the john of boredom and idleness. And the pity subject of my affection is, the so-called paradise exhibited in Aklan. Boracay, it is.
I had been given the chance to be there, granted that I would liquidate all my expenses afterwards which honestly I haven’t done yet.
And as I arrived home, friends, aside from clamoring for their pasalubong, they repetitively asked this nagging question: How’s Bora?
“Mura’g dagat.” There it went, my sarcasm-produced answer.
Complete with its amenities, seawater, seashore, sand ug daghan’g gapnud (lots of seaweeds). Yep, the so-called paradise has gapnud which justifiably, I haven’t seen in printed ads. Its presence made Bora so human. It has flaws after all, which makes it approachable by my mundane person.
I explored its highly commercialized coast with a cam in tow and found humanity lying on its shore.
There was Manong from Sultan Kudarat (we chatted for a couple of minutes yet we forgot to give each other’s name) who veered his luck on business.
“Nakapalit mi’g beach resort diha bala. Gibaligya namu ang yuta sa Sultan ug nanimpalad dinhi.” (“We bought a beach resort there. We sold our land in Sultan to seek our luck here.) He said with his distinguishable southern tongue.
It was still six in the morning, the sun starting his duty, yet there was Manong looking so small and wasted while sitting on the rotten log, facing the infinite sea.
I wondered why he sold his relatively opulent enough state in Sultan and ventured out in commercial Bora where there is stiff competition. The urge must have been too tempting or, better yet, his opulence insufficient.
The second question that my showbiz-oriented friends asked, “kinsa’y artista imong nakit-an didto? Daghan’g gwapo?” (who were showbiz personalities that you’ve seen? Any good looking guys?)
I was not intrigued with those local showbiz personalities, especially the chick flicks kind. Sorry, not a fan.
But indeed I found Merlo and Merli so handsome to the point of claiming them as my own. Hmmm, I forgot to add, they are dogs.
The celebrities that I found were Tom, Ralph and Jerson. Too young yet already so absorbed with skim boarding. They owned the shore of Bora with their personalized skim board. Riding the waves— complimenting their intricacy and defeating them—weaved their day to adventure. I tried it once, right, and before I knew it, my ass kissed the crystal sand. They had a good laugh.
Tom said that it takes time before one can perfect the move. Well, tough luck, ain’t got patience whatsoever.
I wanted to curse the waves to death but that would be the death of the kiddos, so I didn’t.
I left the lads with a big grin in my eyes. I had captured their moment in frames, so with Manong, Merli and Merlo and they will be forever saved and printed on my mind.
And where Bora is concerned, heck, I love its flaws more than its beach.
The queries were answered now and the boredom and idleness flashed and swallowed by the swirling shore of Bora.