Lost and Found

Where's my ticket?
 
I meticulously opened the pockets of my backpack inside the airport as we lined up to check-in our baggage yesterday.We were returning to Cebu from a three-day team building activity at Mambukal resort in Negros Occidental. 
I don't usually forget something. I could only count on my fingers the instances that I missed things to remember . I'm an orderly and systematic person. I see to it that every stuff are in place where it ought to be placed.
 
Was it a coincidence when the head of our delegation reminded us of our tickets while riding the bus to the airport? I don't think so. Or was it a product of exhaustion arising from the strenuous mind and physical activities that we all gone through? It might be a factor. Had my memory dwindled down? 

Probably, yes.
 
I didn't entertain the possibility that I left the ticket in our cottage, since I only take out things that I need to use for the day.
 
Being the only last guy, to hand our previously booked flight schedule to the counter made me more anxious. My patience gained positive vibrations. As I dip my hand inside my pocket , I felt a folded paper. Pulling it carefully, thanks to the heavens it was what I'm looking for.
 
I took it out from my backpack minutes before we checked out from the resort to avoid the cumbersome drawing it in and out from my bag, which was heavier this time because of the Bacolod delicacies tucked inside together with my clothes.
 
The ticket literally was not lost and was found.

Piece of Agony

Wrapping up the lenten season, is an experience I myself called a post-lenten agony.
 
Today is Easter Sunday. A time to rejoice for He has risen from the grave. It was contrary on my part, it must be the road to the grave.
 
I woke up early. I packed my belongings that I wasn't able to put in my bag the night before. My father drove me to the terminal in our town, at around 6:30 AM.

Boarding on the jeepney, I met my father's close friend. He did nothing but talked to the passengers inside the vehicle.He somehow mentioned that he assisted a very prominent government official, billeting in one the resorts in the island.

A long queue precedes the long trip, waiting for our turn to buy tickets . I hopped from one ticket booth to another hoping to be included in the manifesto, a passengers list. I tried to extend my patience as the sun gets hotter. From my position, two persons away from the ticket booth, the teller shouted to the crowd that all trips in the morning was fully booked.The only schedule available was the 4:30PM. I never anticipated that some had their schedule booked ahead of time, leaving only minimal vacancies, which I'm not fortunate to grasp. I ended up in a pump boat. The traditional vessel which has outriggers.

Seated on the rear end of the boat beside the window, I positioned myself in my most comfortable way. The sea breeze was cool. I started to feel tired. 

Almost took a nap, but refreshed by the sea water splashing in my face and eventually to my whole body. I became slightly wet. The boat braved the waves. I closed the window leaving a little space that I could peep to the ocean. Still, the waters come in, an early celebration of St. John's day. I whispered to myself. Changing my clothes came to mind but later was dispensed.

My clothes almost dry.I boarded a multi cab to the terminal in Sibulan. Took my lunch and lined again to purchase ticket for the ferry boat. A shorter line this time. The manageable heat inside the passenger terminal, was lessened by a fan standing just at the center of the edifice.

Few minutes later, the ferry left and docked to the southern part of Cebu province.Buses waited. Everyone in the group opted to take the aircon bus. Pushing and shoving made the day more interesting. Passengers outdoing each other, to board the bus. I'm seated at the rear end of the bus. My favorite spot whenever I travel.

I opened the curtain hanged over the tainted window of the bus, disabling the sunlight to pass through. I rolled the aircon control over my head, to get the best position. Engines rolled. Everybody inside the bus felt really tired. Music turned off. An epic movie entertained the passengers.

Hours passed. I could fell the nature's call. My urinary tract would almost burst. I tried to control it. I changed my position every now and then. I was even tempted to use the empty bottle of the distilled water I bought, to exhaust my urge, when worst come to worst. My predicament was further enhanced when the bus run on snail paced due to the traffic rerouting.

Three hours, of agony ended as I slowly crept to the convenience room of the city terminal. I totally poured out my emotions together with the other passengers.

It all happened in this supposedly day of rejoicing. I'm not thinking of the effects on my part as a consequence. Maybe cough or kidney stones I do not know.

My suffrage

For the last two elections, I haven't exercised my right to suffrage. My name had already been kicked out from the voters list. If I can't register prior to the next year's election, I would not be part of another puppet show.
 
I can't recall the first and the second instance why I wasn't able to exercise my right as a citizen in the country, perhaps I opted not to vote. But last local elections, I decided to. However, an incident happened that hampered the much anticipated battle.

On board a ferry bound for Negros, the jump-off to my province ,I met a woman in her forties. At first, she asked me how to get to Siquijor. I told her what she had to do. She's from Manila and was tasked to transport documents wanting for the local election office. It's her first time to set foot on the island. She had apprehensions if she could deliver it on time, since it was already past twelve in the afternoon and she's a total stranger to the place. 

As I disembarked on the boat to catch a trip to the province, I again met the lady. This time she asked me if I could be her guide. Without further questions , I generously accepted her needed service.
 
To cut the story short, she was able to do her task on time.
 
I hurriedly catch a jeepney to our town which takes one and a half to two hours travel. But my efforts weren't enough, it was already past three when I arrived at our house. I wasn't able to beat the clock.
 
My primary aim was not in vain as I had helped someone who needs it more. I still have to register come election time, to see the faces of the politicians who chant the same hymn over and over again on campaigns.
 
I hope the voters will be more intelligent this time. Choosing not through popularity but on the effective delivery of basic services, which the voter's themselves felt.