Waiting for GMA

We might as well have been Waiting for Godot, to borrow the title of the Samuel Beckett play we studied to death in college (but still couldn’t agree on who–or what–Godot was). Throw in too Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing, and you have a pretty good description of what Saturday night was like at the Dos Palmas Resort in Palawan.

Word came mid-afternoon confirming that the President–together with First Gentleman Mike and daughter Luli, and a couple of Cabinet secretaries and the governor of Palawan–would come to the resort that evening, after her diving adventure at Tubbataha. Her advance party started arriving on helicopters and speedboats, checking on accommodations, food, the helipad (in case she decided to chopper in) and, naturally, security around the whole 20-hectare island. The Mongolian barbecue buffet scheduled for that night was moved to poolside, a lovely set-up for about 70 people readied to accommodate the Presidential party in addition to the 20-plus in-house resort guests. I had intended to leave Dos Palmas that afternoon and spend the night at Puerto Princesa in order to make the early morning trip to Sabang and the Underground River the next day, but decided to stay put and get a scoop, since I was the only journalist around.

Then word came that the President would not join the dinner; she was tired and would retire to her cottage upon arrival. During dinner I overheard that the President would be arriving close to midnight, since it was a good six-hour trip by boat from Tubbataha, and she did not leave the dive site until after sunset.

Advance party and guests nevertheless enjoyed the sumptuous dinner, a long and leisurely affair that featured not just the Mongolian barbecue but made-to-order sukiyaki, a delicious tofu soup (I must wangle the recipe from the chef!), lengua, spaghetti (Filipino-style, meaning sweetish, with bits of frankfurters), a full salad bar, grilled pork chops, oh-so-sweet Palawan mangoes and I can’t remember what else.

Around nine o’clock word trickled in that the President wasn’t coming after all; she was tired and would spend the night on board Ang Pangulo as it headed straight for Calauit in northern Palawan. That threw everyone into a tizzy; what to do with 50 people–and two K-9s–who suddenly had no President to secure for the night? And what if she changed her mind and decided to come over and spend the night at the resort after all?

After much discussion, part of the group–the non-security people–decided to go back to Puerto Princesa on the resort’s speedboat, since the choppers couldn’t fly at night, while the PSG–and the K-9s–stayed behind, just in case. Such are the vagaries of guarding a President.

I would have loved to have had an exclusive story of the President’s visit to Dos Palmas–it would have been a very strong and positive statement of confidence for Palawan tourism–but all I have is this little anecdote about my scoop that never was. We do have, however, STAR photographer Revoli Cortez’s exclusive photos of the President’s check out dives at Tubbataha (please turn to page four).

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In case you missed the fine print down below, please note that our new e-mail address is [email protected]. Keep in touch–we’d like to hear from you. The old fashioned way of pen, paper, envelope and stamp is fine too.

Artist Allan Sycip did just that, reacting pretty strongly to the article, "Are we poor because we’re Catholic?" in our April 19 issue. He takes issue with what Fr. Intengan says on the matter, and concludes his letter with this most interesting and insightful postscript: "P.S. The best thing that happened to our country? Maybe the overseas Chinese."

Being unabashedly Instik, I agree with that wholeheartedly! Okay, you can start throwing those tomatoes and rotten eggs now.