Dolores and the toxins

i’m about to live yesterday all over again.
which may not be necessarily a bad thing.
(like a do-over.)

we just crossed the international date line.
and according to the screen thingy, only 5 hours and 3,042 miles left ‘til we land in san francisco.

and, in case you are wondering, we are cruising at 37,000 feet with an outside temperature of -67 degrees Fahrenheit, with a true airspeed of 537 mph. an airplane is a hellava place to detox (more on this later).

perhaps i really needed this kind of altitude to properly get some perspective on how these last weeks have unfolded.
(i just had a flash of Pi climbing his coconut trees. what a view!)

before i go further, i’d just like to say whoever named PAL coach the “fiesta class” is a rather sardonic, ironic type. and i’d like to smack him around a bit. the only fiesta-like thing about coach is how we’re all crammed in here like it’s barrio fiesta. i should know, because sta. rita just had our fiesta time. in “fiesta” class there are no yummy things to eat. no shiny banners. nor tuba players. nor parades. and for me (and the rest of unfortunate row # 61), at least on PR Flight No. 104 on the 9th of June, MNL to SFO, there is no overhead reading light, no flight attendant call button, no sound, no movies, nor crappy airline radio. the panels are busted.

and, rest assured,i will be writing a strongly worded letter to PAL after this (titani homage to jack). maybe i can get a service upgrade or some mabuhay miles.

i hope i get something.

because for 12 hours, i can’t read nor write nor watch the movies nor listen to pinoy pop, nor j-pop, nor broadway favorites on PAL radio. thank goodness i really had no interest in the movies offered (pink panther 2, B cop movie, hotel for dogs, and one other that i forget.) if it had been the reader or some sappy tagalog romance, i might of transformed into the ugly American. and thank goodness i had Poddie ni Muki with me, so i could hear some sounds.

other saving graces have been the lola and lolo sitting next to me, to my right.
and the chubby toddler sitting in front of me.

the lola and lolo are immigrating to the states.
they look to me in their 70’s or nearing them.
when Lola Dolores told me they are moving to the states, i unexpectedly felt a deep sadness. her tone of voice suggested excitement. her facial expression din. but her eyes reflected a deep sadness. like everything was trying to convince her eyes to go along. i glimpsed it tho. i had just read earlier somewhere today that the eyes are the window of the soul. i’ve heard that before, of course. and, i don’t think i quite understood it like this. i could be spinning it any which way, coloring this experience with my own thoughts and feelings, but, i don’t think so. those dark glistening eyes of hers showed me something, for a moment, in a moment.

Lola Dolores had just gotten off the phone with her relatives in Nueva Viscaya.
i heard her saying to her apo, “Anak, dapat mag-aral ka mabuti. listen to your Ate. Love you. Love you. Love you so much. Love. Love. Love. See you.”

when she said, “See you,” i could hear in her voice that she didn’t really believe herself either.

she calls me “Anak” through the flight.
i help her open the packets of coffee creamer and fill out the forms we have to fill out when we enter the US. i show her how to unlock her cell phone so that she can properly turn it off.

i like being called “Anak” by her. it’s soothing, in a way, to both of us. kanina, her husband dropped his ring on the floor in the middle of the flight, and with no lights, it wasn’t much fun trying to find it. but, we found it.

i wanted to ask her why they were moving to the states.
they are past working age.
the daughter that they plan to live with is single, with no children, and no plans to marry.
how does she feel about leaving the Philippines?
what does she anticipate?
what are her expectations?
why, why, why?

but, i was shy.
and something in her eyes asked me not ask.
or maybe that’s just me.

the chubby toddler in front of me has such a round face.
and the cutest straight little white teeth.
he shows them all off when he smiles at me.
which, i am happy to report, is often.
he must be 3 going on 4.
his dad looks Korean or Japanese.
his mom is Pinay.

before i got on the flight, i decided to get a massage at the airport.
mahal (by Philippine standards), very inexpensive (by US standards), AND so worth it, imho.
i had this really, super duper, skilled massage therapist.
he worked me out.
in the last two weeks, these wicked muscle knots have taken up residence in my shoulders.
strange.
this hasn’t happened in like 2 years or so.
and, i’m reminded, that i am cleansing.
i completed my Level II Reiki training a couple of weeks ago.
and lately, i’ve been doing a lot of Reiki healing with myself and with others.
so, i’m clearing, and i guess that’s where those things are coming from.
i drank so much water after that massage to help flush the toxins.
no joke, i must have gone to the bathroom 20 times on this flight.
(it’s all about the aisle seat…)
a couple of times, i got really nauseated and almost threw up from air turbulance and who knows what else?
prolly that crappy little sandwich i ate in the mabuhay lounge.
and, yah, maybe the toxins.