Yesterday I found myself saying goodbye to my partner of nearly two years at an airport security gate in Manila, as he gave me a polite peck on each cheek with hands on my shoulders.
Then there I was, eating two char siu bau (bbq pork buns) out of a cardboard box, standing in the middle of the gate area, with my partner’s stepdaughter.
I’ve had some strange and overwrought travel days, but this began to verge on sounding like a dream that people are too polite to say bores them as you go on and on.
AND then I was eating pork buns that reminded me of my long ago ex T, the first woman I kissed, with whom I slurped cheng fun and har gau and discovered dim sum and so many other delights.
And THEN I was on the plane, and halfway through the flight the flight attendants, all orange and yellow perky, called for our attention and said “it’s time for the FUN GAMES, the best part of a Cebu flight!” And we had a chance to win collapsible tote bags with the name of the airline on them, by being the first to hold up a valid picture id or find a certain page of the inflight magazine. We tried hard but didn’t win.
And THEN R described a friend of hers as “a bizarre combination of GRRR and handbags.”
And THEN we got on a really posh jeepney and went to a dive resort, passing street vendors selling fireworks and shoes, and where the staff kept saying, like a sesame street counting game for the very young, there were supposed to be three of you, but there are only two. The other one, did not come?