Tawi Tawi Tales

TAWI TAWI TALES – PART 1

Last night, I and my friends from UP Astronomical Society celebrated the 10^th year anniversary of our trip to Tawi Tawi.

Ten years ago, we went against all odds to go south to witness a total solar eclipse -a phenomenon that would not happen again in the country till 2027.

The year was 1995. Ramos was halfway through his term. Gloria Macapagal Arroyo topped the senate race that May, breaking previous records. Channel 5’s Tropang Trumpo was the number 1 gag show, triggering GMA 7 to pirate Ogie and Michael V to form the Bubble Gang. Reigning queen Rossanna Roces, and boobsy challenger Amanda Page, were the sought-after TF stars- their movies Basa sa Dagat and Gayuma pitted against each other.

We at that time were wide-eyed, idealistic, impatient students of UP Diliman, living on a measly student allowance, dealing with egoistical, sadistic and prurient professors, spending the free time watching the stars in the tambayan (one of the brilliant ways to chill out - nada cash outlay)

Our four-year old organization was running low on funds. The members whose main competencies were along the line of star hunting and cataloguing heavenly bodies never knew how to package the Solar Eclipse as a lucrative event. We did not have the marketing pizzazz to convince, cajole or coerce the filthy rich would-be sponsors– they simply found the idea of watching the moon blocking the sun as neither glamorous nor investment-worthy.

We were so desperate we even decided to join the Game Show “Ready Get Set Go”. But we failed to make it in the screening process. The producer probably decided that a bunch of bespectacled, stiff, star-crazed “nerdaks” could plummet the show to un-cool depths.

In the end, the 12 Tawitawi hopefuls who yearned to go had to do each one’s personal solicitation. It was a huge sacrifice on my part as I had to really cut down on my expenses –for a typical Isko student, this meant the usual Aristocart meal instead of the Jollibee ChickenJoy- to collect an amount close to 2 thousand pesos.

If money generation was tough, the travel down there was hell.

In order to fit our budget we had to take the Air Force C-130 flight to Mindanao. Getting booked was rather tricky; a process involving repeated calling and begging, even name-dropping to give us some slots. The C-130 is a military cargo plane and ideal hitching vehicle for the cash-strapped and the clueless. One simply had to endure standing amidst the haphazardly stacked irregularly-shaped cargoes- like playing the Human Twister game in a warm humid room several thousand feet above the ground. It was far worse than ROTC; in ROTC you stand erect under the sun but could shift your weight to loosen those stiff muscles, in the C 130 flight you would have to wait for the stop-over to rearrange your awkward position and redistribute the blood circulation to blood-starved areas. (on hindsight the tasks done in the Extra Challenge and Amazing Race seemed anemic)

After a 2-hour grueling ride, 2 stopovers and several muscle cramps later, we dropped off at Zamboanga. Like the horror movies, this one had a sequel. The boat we took to Tawi Tawi didn’t have any shower –and the trip would be for two nights!!!. We were awfully sticky from sweat, dust, salt spray and grime spread all over our body; our pores were clogged up and gasping for breath. We couldn’t drown the thoughts of discomfort by sleeping it over; our skin was uncomfortably sticking to our bunk. Thank goodness for cotton, Eskinol and Rubbing alcohol, this was the closest thing we could have for a bath.

No shower, I could probably take. But seeing other passengers spitting anywhere on the ship floor is another. For the lack of an apt word it’s totally - Eewww.!!! To avoid stepping on these mucous landmines I spent almost the entire trip lying on my bunk.

(to be continued)