Fine Times

Young people can be so funny.

They don't get fazed by new places. They don't care about how quickly the tides seem to turn. They don't care about sand being blown into their faces. They don't care about long walks, about hobnobbing with strangers.

I was in Boracay with some young people, members of my family, a few weeks ago. What I mentioned above are just a few things I observed from them.

So what if Boracay is one of my country's most pernicious tourist traps? So what if it wasn't the right time of the year to visit? So what if it isn't quite what the local and foreign websites make it out to be?

The first-timers had one hell of a time enjoying themselves, nevertheless.

So did the older-timers.

The experience was made even more pleasurable for me the older-timers seeing as how the first-timers were enjoying themselves in a new place, and, more importantly, experiencing a new place with people they love and who love them.

They danced.

They sang.

They laughed.

So did I. I couldn't help it. The dancing, the singing, the laughter, they were all contagious. OK, so maybe I didn't dance at all. But that doesn't mean I didn't feel my young relatives' exuberance. Even when I was convinced it was all a big conspiracy and the young ones were out to kill me.

I kid. They are good people, kind people, who manage to screw up sometimes (perhaps unwittingly)...but then, who doesn't? I'm proud to call them family, and I'm happy many of us got together recently to celebrate fun, happiness, and even some not-so-pleasant drunken moments with each other.

Amazing how the people you're with can color your experience of a place.

{Yes, DaddyP, I did get some baby powder-fine white sand in between my toes again...and perhaps in my undercrackers...right along with soothingly-aquamarine sea water.}