I’ve complained about the summer heat since I was old enough to remember. Maybe it’s because we don’t have airconditioning. Yes, I think that’s the primary reason. When you’re stuck at home with no real money to spend, no vacation plans–you get the picture.
But the sea reminded me again to think otherwise.
My office had it’s little summer outing last Thurs and Fri at Batangas. To my surprise I came back burnt and refreshed. Yes, for a person who hates the summer heat I found out that a little sunblock was the dead simple compromise. Yes, sunblock gave me summer love.
All throughout the trip there, the scenery, the anticipated and readily tangible, kept me thinking about Banville’s The Sea. I’d like to think that it’s because being out of the city inspires one to anticipate nature. I saw mount Makiling again, a staple of my elementary field trips. But now it was different. The light of the day and the angle that the road gave revealed the mountains distinct profile–a face of a woman lying down. It was almost eerie in a way, somehow the legend of Mariang Makiling, that woman of the forest seemed more believable. I saw the sloping forehead, the sharp peak that forms the nose and the soft mounds that formed the lips.
When my ass felt numb I got a bit restless. It was just like the day I first saw sand and sea. It was at my father’s hometown, Basilan–almost at the very edge of the Philippines (southern tip)–miles away from Manila. The house was near the sand about a couple of minutes drive. We rode on this blue and white Jeep with the top open. We halted on a clearing of coconut trees but the water was blocked by a ridge of sand (or was I just small?)but I could hear the waves, a siren beckoning. I climbed down and ran. My cells recognized the primordial soup. I ran towards the sea.
When we arrived at the place it was already noon. It was a satisfying feeling to see that endless horizon again. And the waves!
I forgot how salty the water was though. Since I couldn’t really swim I stayed near the shore, as far as my toes could reach the sand. The waves were a little strong that afternoon and my nostrils flared once as saltwater came in, scalding my throat. My officemates taught me how to float. It wasn’t really hard since the water’s dense and I had ample body fat. Once I got the hang of it, that’s what I did almost all afternoon. Float. The lines from "The Sea" came to my mind. Especially when the sun was almost gone and I could look at the sky completely I was there, I was there where the sea was "lapping the very basses of the dunes". That suspended feeling, as your ears are submerged and your nose and eyes delicately surface–I said the line again "lapping the very basses of the dunes". The sea was lapping me up.
On the second day, I braved the waters and went Canoeing. It looked fun but my main fear was that the vessel would tip to the side and I would be left at fairly deep water with my life jacket barely keeping me afloat. At first try we toppled to the side (the canoe seats two) confirming my fears but I assured myself again that my companion was a good swimmer, "It’s ok, lighten up."
And oh, that rush I felt when we were pushed forward to the sea I almost shouted, "Let me out!" I really didn’t feel comfortable that the waves could topple us. But when I got the hang of paddling and as I saw the swimmers heads as mere dots it felt good. Being a wayfarer, even for a day was fun.
When I slept that night it was as if my body was still simulating the floating feeling from the water.
And that sunrise! I woke up around 6am and I came out to seat on the benches overlooking the sea. The sun wasn’t out yet and I read Albert’s book till breakfast time. I wish I could spend all my mornings like that.
Summer can be fun after all.
word on the street