Man, that was a break I really needed. Mentally.
It started on the day of December 20.
I already prepared my stuff bit by bit since last week, so by that day, I had zero worry about my luggage nor its contents. I changed SGD1000 that morning to its peso equivalent that morning as well. I plugged out early from work so I could leave the house with my other housemate at 7.30PM. My flight was on the midnight of December 21, and my strong preference is to be very early for my flight. Before leaving the unit, I checked all unnecessary plugged items and ensured I had washed my pillows, then I opened several dehumidifying containers in the living room and in my bedroom to minimize the possibility of molds.
Once we were done, me and my housemate went for separate cabs (his was in another terminal and he had a lot more than me to take home anyway) and went for Changi Airport. Man, I do love Changi Airport. Swift, efficient, speedy. I located the gate where the Philippine Airlines counters were and alighted from there. No long lines yet, so I queued with around six people waiting for the counters to open. And soon, they did. Fortunately, I checked in online a few hours ago so I was directed to co-use the “first class” queue to save time (that queue had very few people by 9PM so they allowed some of us to queue there when empty to shave some off the big lines). Once I finished checking in my luggage and got past the usual pre-departure gates, I had free time to roam the departure terminal.
Truth be told, the thing I like doing before flights is to roam and walk around, looking at things and seeing stuff, especially in foreign airports. Changi has always been a good time for me. Wide hallways, carpeted flooring, nice airconditioning, and many – MANY – places to sit back and relax without paying a penny extra. I spent more than an hour walking to and fro a lot of areas, but always mindful where my departure gate was and not straying too far. Not only it burned some calories, it also gave me appetite for dinner. I opted for beef tendon noodles with mala, side vegetables and plain egg chee chong fun. Not cheap by hawker standards, but still was a very hearty meal.
For some reason, I was also beset by the dreaded “pasalubong” mentality. I could not help but look at sweets stores and food shops and think of buying more gifts and food for my folks back home, especially my young nephew. But I assuaged that itch (I can attest it was a very nasty itch) by reminding myself of my sister’s ever-populated sweets and snacks cabinet that rarely got depleted, and I sent a box full of sweets last November that had yet to be opened. Wallet be saved. Sorry, Garrett’s and Bee Cheng Hiang, I have spent my dollars elsewhere.
Once we got on the flight and the plane finished its ascent to the skies, I was kind of reminded, oh this is now a regular thing for me. I have flown in at least 30 flight trips since 2017. 4 times in 2017. 3 times in 2018. 4 times in 2019. 6 times in 2022. 7 times in 2023. And as of this year, 6 times. Man, times have sure passed since I decided I would try to see what’s out there in that Christmas night of 2016. At that time, I was with my sister but I was very lonely at home, and staring at another year of living a rat’s race of a job with no changes at all. I decided then to book two trips in advance to force myself to use my vacations and see what could be out there for me.
And still, I am not yet used to the lull of the airplane. I was sleepy but in no mood nor the ability to actually sleep, if that makes sense. So I opened my Nintendo Switch to play a new game I bought at a sale weeks ago, intending it to be my “vacation game”. It’s “The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom”. From trailers and YouTubers (I have never watched a playthrough more than 10 minutes), it looked like a decent-sized romp that I could play piecemeal and finish before I return to Singapore. Not too demanding, I suppose. It looked fun and dandy as a Zelda title as well.
(SPOILERS)
Once I got out of the castle after Zelda escaped the plagued castle, I was pleasantly surprised that Philippine Airlines was giving out free meals to the passengers. Appetizer, main dish, dessert, drinks. I chose the “beef with vegetables” option. Man, if only I knew, I would’ve saved my money from the dinner too. But the free food was nice. Blankets given were also nice. Flimsy but still nice for padding.
Also, just a tip: if your food tray has a really hot meal and a small container of butter to go with a bread roll, better put the butter on top of the foil cover to melt. I ate the bread roll piece by piece, dipping it in the butter before eating instead of spreading it in between. I efficiently used all the butter with that.
I resumed playing Zelda EoW after the meal. Man, shit was addicting. I was constantly on the lookout, exploring every inch and cranny I could. I abused every monster echo I could get my hands on. Lots of puzzles – some direct, some too easy, and a few of them were “holy shit I never thought of doing that” kinds of puzzles. But there was some gleeful fun when I got to my first big sworded monster, once I got their echo I used them to finish off lots of mobs while sitting back and watch the AIs whack each other like a slapstick comedy with swords and spears. Sometimes I launched a bunch of snakes just to amuse myself. The “Stillworld” was also fun. The place genuinely got the creeps that I’m sure many an indie dev will someday expand upon. Genuinely, it was a good idea to craft this black-and-purple alterworld to toy with the player’s notion of safety. By the time I finished one run of a “Stillworld” and freed the poor prime minister lady, it was time to land to NAIA Terminal 1.
I came from the plane fully expecting a mass of people like Terminal 3 had last year, but I was pleasantly surprised that 1) they now have automated gates with scanners for Philippine passport holders, and 2) there were WAY LESS people in line for each gate. Man, I first thought, I might’ve lucked out and T1 improved since NAIA was handed to a private managing company, but then I remembered, T3 is the budget airlines’ designated terminal, while T1 is the flagship airlines’ designated terminal (as well as of other countries), so I should’ve expected to have way less people in here. Before falling in line, I sat on a nearby bench to switch my SIM cards from SingTel to SMART to message my parents. Once I did, I immediately turned on the cellular data and lo and behold, they were at the arrival area earlier than me. I messaged them to wait a bit as the gates’ lines might take a bit more time. Also, it was funny to see my fellowmen who have never interacted with automated gates yet and mess the shit up. The instructions were read out clearly in both English and Tagalog, and still many have missed doing the correct steps. Figures.
My parents quickly located me at the pick-up area outside the arrival section. And even more surprising, it was only the two of them. I was very worried that dad’s eyesight might be hampered by driving at night but it seems he was already used going to NAIA already. Expert navigation, as long as he stuck with the new paid expressway. Along the way, we bought pandesal at Pan de Manila, a very consistent bakery. Funny as well that mom isn’t that used to “Philippines pricing” anymore, seeing as she kind of flinched when she saw the pandesal receipt. Once back at home, we had breakfast – I had several pandesal with garlic-fried eggs in between. It was around 7AM. Whew. I easily dozed off to sleep an hour later.
I woke up at 4PM. I wasn’t mad to have skipped lunch – I was sleep-deprived and already ate two meals before (the plane food and slightly heavy breakfast) – but I knew dinner was around the corner. So I spent a few hours doing stuff. Like, unpacking the balikbayan box I sent home last November, and clearing my big green luggage of any that I deem “not for me anymore”.
I unpacked the box first. I checked the Milo pack to see if they still held up, and once I confirmed it, I put it into the fridge for my nephew to drink at his convenience. I set aside the two packs of Kiyo grape juice, and put the snackables in a big insulated bag I got from a pastry shop a year ago. I dubbed it my “snack box”. Some of the snacks I put in their snacks cabinet (disturbingly, still full of sweets). I gave the big red mooncake box to my sister that remarked it was “too pretty to just contain cakes”. I set aside the books and clothes to sort later. For the decorative items, I gave it to my mom who put it on top of the cabinets to “display later” as the house’s main display cabinet was still full. Maybe to sort that out later before she returns to Hawaii, perhaps. I put the ziploc bag I put some protein powder in aside. Box cleared.
The luggage was definitely more easier to manage as I mentally “unpacked” it in my mind while I was packing it during the days before the flight. I knew immediately how to navigate this thing. I immediately extracted the other mooncake box from the top compartment to give to my sister, who also remarked it looked way prettier than the first one I gave out. I set aside the Thai snack packs and concentrated on the clothes. My luggage was 60% clothes. After putting them in my cabinet, I finally sighed a relief that I now have a veritable and complete selection of good clothes to wear – both for home wear and casual wear – so that now, every time I go home, I have little incentive to pack a lot of clothes. Probably the clothes I’d bring are the ones that either fell out of my rotation or starting to get worn out, and won’t mind keeping at home in the Philippines instead of in Singapore as home wear.
Hours passed quickly, and I had dinner. First dinner back in the Philippines was grilled tuna jaw that my sister ordered online, and I laced my rice with soup from the bangus stew my dad made earlier that day. Not too heavy.
I worried for years that my sister and her husband are not too keen on proper home-cooked meals. They often order food online. I couldn’t blame them for it – they both work irregular hours, and unfortunately my dad tends to cook food like how Tarantino makes movies (“I do film for myself and everyone is invited”) so they both tend to buy food they like – primarily what my nephew also likes. Fried chicken. Siomai. California maki. And sometimes they splurge, so I end up seeing things on the dining table like grilled tuna jaws and samgyeopsal meat and sushi platters. Unfortunately, my young nephew’s tastebuds got used to their preferences, so he rarely ate any regular vegetables. I doubt he had saluyot in his whole life.
After dinner, I just retreated back to my room to chill. I spent hours just alternating from watching YouTube, grinding FGO and HSR, and playing more Zelda. I have zero stuff planned for tomorrow – a totally-sedentary day. And I had slept a lot earlier already, so my sleepiness crept up very late, around 3AM.
Bathing back home sure is a mixed bag. In Singapore and my old rented unit in Mandaluyong, I had a shower. In Singapore, it’s heated. Back home, it’s just a big drum of water and a bucket we called a tabo. Just get water, dunp it on your head. It’s cold as well. I have zero problems with cold water. Sometimes when it’s “hot” at night in Singapore (like summer night weathers), I prefer bathing with cold water so I turn off the heater. My mom, however, hated it already, so sometimes I see her go in the bathroom with a freshly-boiled full kettle.
However, using tabo and the old-fashioned bathing ways wasn’t good for my hair. I didn’t bring my preferred less-suddy shampoo (Grafen’s) nor my hair scrub of choice, so I often use the Head&Shoulders in the bathroom and use my fingers to ensure my scalp’s as clean as I could. But after a few days, I find my scalp gets really flaky. Tabo-based bathing doesn’t remove the shampoo as well as an overhead shower.
Well… I’ll do experiment next time I go home and bring both a Grafen bottle and my hair scrub, see if that mitigates my scalp problem.
December 22’s nothing much to write about, save for a few things.
I quickly realized that bringing some protein powder was kind of useless. Dad made breakfast, and that dude knew I was a sucker for a scrumptious and flavorful set of sunny-side-up eggs. I was planning to shave a few calories off my potential Christmas eating splurge by trying to stick to some under-400cal fare like a glass of milk with a scoop of protein shake, but man, those sunnies looked perfect with an attractive smell of roasted garlic. And I wasn’t going to disappoint that kind of kindness. Fuck (some) calories.
I just spent the rest of the day just chilling in my room, discreetly throwing out some things I left in the room last June, and making my room a little more comfortable to move in. Lunch and dinner were also gutbusters – dad cooked a spicy pepper-based pig trotter stew.
Earlier that day, mom was a bit griping to me about her lack of things to keep herself busy. She got home a week earlier than me, and so far she tried various things to busy herself such as handicrafts (she made fancy bracelets) and tidying up the house sometimes, but as far as an actual “busy” thing, she had none.
And I understand that itch, almost as well as her.
See, one of the things that made me my mom’s boy is that we both do our best effort at the workplace. My mom spent decades as a hardworking employee at a drugstore company, rising through the ranks from cashier to branch manager. She worked harder than anyone I knew. Best effort. She has a whole cabinet full of trophies, plaques, framed certificates and commendations from her former company through decades of hard work. She retired from that company roughly a decade ago to emigrate to Hawaii with my dad and sister, but that drive to work never went away. She ended up taking other jobs in there.
Me, I took a job more than a decade ago in tech as a programmer. Unlike my mom who had a family to raise with her salary, I only had my vices and my hobbies to spend my salary on. And I was attracted to earning more money early on. So I took way too many overtimes. Unfortunately, even when I eased off that specific desire, projects with shitty time plotting by the project managers led me to overtimes. They were willing to turn a blind eye to my weekend coding at the office as long as deadlines were met. And many stuff happened after, but I always had the mentality to give best effort even when I moved up to a supervisor role. Rarely did I take any non-December leaves (I always used my mandatory leaves in December).
And when I went to Singapore with companies that allowed a more relaxed work-life balance (and employed highly competent project managers), I struggled with an itch. I wanted to beat deadlines constantly. I had issues with finishing project parts way too early because I had to spend days doing literally nothing but browse YouTube at work. So against my decades of work instinct, I “paced” myself to do things in 5 days that I knew I could finish in 3. The project manager gives me 10 days, I try to pace and finish by 8. And I was antsy if I was doing nothing. It took me years to get that workaholic itch out. Now I can spend lull days at work by doing other things to enrich my knowledge and upskilling. I don’t get guilty feelings with spending my vacation days anymore.
My mom still has that problem, and I guess it’ll be there until a specific day that I dread will come someday but I’m steeling myself for it. I know as an Asian eldest son, I have that duty, and I plan to honor it. But for now, just seeing and waiting.
I told her many times during my vacation at home that “this is supposed to be vacation, rest up, you need the rest, at the rate you’re looking to do something, you’ll tire yourself out then come back to Hawaii more tired than when you left for vacation, what’s the point of vacation then”. I am now a strong advocate of “vacation is rest”, meaning that I now have a distinction of what is a “activity trip” and what is a “vacation”. “Activity trip” is doing touring stuff for personal leisure or enrichment, like mall windowshopping or the activity tours I took in Taiwan. Those were physically tiresome in varying ways. “Vacation” for me simply means an entire day devoid of anything that tires me out (except gym time). I just lounge at home, loafing and recharging. Just an entire day of chill.
And that was still foreign to my mom. She constantly looked for things to “do”, whether cleaning up unkempt cabinets or doing more of that bracelet thing. But I saw her once at the living room couch, utterly devoid of anything to do other than take a nap, and I kind of pitied her. She looked miserable. She could’ve done the old tsismosa housewife of going around the neighborhood, meeting her old acquaintances, but given some circumstances, that ain’t happening. I wish I could give her things to do, but I’m no taskmaster myself. I had zero things to do in that day, and I kept it that way.
I wish my mom could enjoy her vacations way more than I or my sisters could offer her. But I knew the main step for it to happen is when she finally lets go of the workaholic mindset. And I get the feeling that it won’t disappear for her yet, maybe a few more years.
Briathrail // Albert 2MNG 
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