Once upon a time, when I was a working woman, my life was full of travel. Initially they were short trips — to Baguio for the advertising congress, and occasional trips to Cebu. Then I went to Europe for a while. The only memory I had of that trip was a strong allergic reaction to the plane trees of London. I thought I was going to die. But when we called the hotel doctor, that’s all he said it was.
Life went on. Trips to the United States and finally a trip to Australia, not too well enjoyed because of the state of affairs in our family. Then I returned to work and eventually found my way to a multinational advertising agency. I was in my mid-thirties then and was sent to the University of Chicago’s Center for Continuing Adult Education for courses in market positioning, then on to New York for a week to get acquainted with our agency’s head office, then on to Atlanta to visit the main office of Coca-Cola. There I remember being invited to lunch at the home of someone who was in charge of international brands, who later came over to run the Manila office. I remember meeting my peers from Asia and South Africa, and an impressive white man who once had military training.
We — about four of us — would share a cab from our hotel to the office. He would make us all disembark first. Then he would turn to the taxi driver who always demanded a hefty tip and say, “Why? You were happy enough to serve me!” We Asians enjoyed giggling over that.
From Atlanta to Phoenix, Arizona to visit my mother and stepfather. Then a stop by San Francisco on my way home. After that there was the Houston phase. Houston reminded me of home, not Manila, but maybe Pampanga. The weather was similar, the storms as strong. We would drive to Galveston and sit at a restaurant on the wharf pigging out on crawfish, which was quite good actually. Then on to Boston. I took a short course at Harvard Business School. I went back to Houston where I lived for a while then on to San Francisco where I lived for four years.
I remember when my youngest daughter graduated from college, in the middle of the ceremonies it occurred to me that I could go home again. So I did fly home on holiday then found a job and decided to stay. Once again the inter-island trips resumed, also trips to Hong Kong, to San Francisco. Finally, the big trip to San Francisco for a daughter’s wedding then the birth of one of my grandsons.
After 1995, Vancouver, Canada found its way into my itinerary. My mother had moved back there and I needed to visit her. Finally, in December 2004, I went to spend Christmas with a daughter who lived in San Francisco and also to visit my mother in Canada. It was just after the terrorist attack in New York. I thought I would go crazy clearing myself through airports. Take off your shoes. Pack all the liquids. Wait for what seemed like forever. Then I had to see my mother who by then was deep in the throes of serious Alzheimer’s disease. When I returned to the Philippines at the end of January 2005, I swore I had taken my last trip.
My passport, which I had always kept active before then, expired in 2007. I did not care to have it renewed. My US visa expired, too. I didn’t care to have it renewed either. I thought I would never travel again. But guess what? Tomorrow I am going to Hong Kong with my boss and our client.
Of course, I had to get my passport renewed again. My niece said that as a senior citizen all I had to do was make a phone call. She did not tell me how much patience that needed. She did not tell me about busy signals for three days. I gave up. I went to a travel agency and asked for help. Apparently now, passports are called e-passports and you must make a personal appearance to have your photograph taken. I went into their new building at Diosdado Macapagal Avenue and got out an hour later. It was pretty good. I had to wait 23 days for the passport. It came out on time but the passport picture is dismal. I never looked so old. But when did your passport picture ever look good? Never, right?
So here I sit with my laptop on Monday afternoon writing this column, a day or two before my actual deadline. I am trying hard to focus, but I am so excited. When was I last in Hong Kong? Five years ago, though then just for an overnight stay to rest before I came home. But I have my own memories of Hong Kong’s delicious food that you can eat at certain places whose names I cannot now remember. But never mind, we will find new ones I am sure.
This time I am just really excited. I have a new job! I am traveling again. Looks like I may be old but I have a brand-new life.
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