This week, my family was at the center of conversations in our place (but then again, idle conversations have always been the preferred pastime for most of us here). We have no idea how everyone came to know about our upcoming trip abroad.
But then again, it’s not really new. It has happened before, actually. And this would be the fifth.
Six of us are going this time, and unfortunately, I’m not one of them.
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Backgrounder: The first trip happened in 2001 in Singapore. Only my parents and my younger brother and sister went, at the invitation of Ate, who’s working there. The second one followed after a long time, four years later, in 2005. I’ve got to join the trip this time, but then again, eight of us went, composed of my parents, me, my younger brother & sister, Aunt Aida and Uncle Mon, who is a pastor, and his wife. While the interval between the first and the second trip was a rather long one, the interval between the second and the next one was surprisingly short, only six months. It was school season, but luckily, the departmental exams had just been finished, so I was able to come again. The most recent trip happened last year. Only my parents and my younger sister went.
I wasn’t included this time in order to accommodate my Kuya, who has never been able to join any of the previous trips. He will be coming along with his wife.
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Today was the day. On the bright side, I was spared the heavy labors and hysterical behavior usually associated with long journeys like this. We rode to Diosdado Macapagal Int’l Airport (DMIA) after lunch. They were admitted at 2:00 PM. Their plane left at 4:30.