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October 15-17, 2006


I never thought our Dipolog trip would be such a blast.

There were only twelve of us, and out of the 24 Campus Ambassadors (on my list), only a few were able to join the first (as far as I'm concerned) educational field trip of the Corps of Campus Ambassadors. Three days of interesting, informative, and intellectual fun matched the Silliman University frontliners' wits as we not only engaged in different laag moments but also visited several high schools in the area.

The first semester ended with initiations and acceptance ceremonies, mock swimming competitions, and a breathtaking trek to one of Dapitan's hills, the Rizal shrine, and few of Dipolog's revered spots, among others. Gino, Ian, JR, Karen, and Carlo were officially accepted, alliances were formed, and the bonding was simply priceless.

Put simply, I'm glad it happened.

YET...

Waking up was the last thing on my mind that cool Sunday morning. It didn't even cross my peculiar brain to get up at 5am, shower, get dressed, review my packing checklist then dash to the pier. I wasn't even concerned about not being able to make it on time, or even afraid the ferry might leave us.
Why would I be when the same mind that pored over the smallest details of the trip got knocked down by rum four hours before the assembly time? How it happened? I have no idea.

Why it happened? Probably because I was oozing with confidence to the point of being really, really stupid. I was even prepared to give up the trip and just let Michelle lead the team. All I wanted was to sleep to cure my throbbing head.

I was the leader for crying out loud but at that time, I was an intoxicated chairperson.

God knows how I was able to stand up, how I suddenly smelled of soap and Palmolive shampoo, how I got into my red sleeveless top and Bobson jeans, how several things that appeared to be mine were already in my duffle, and how I was able to cross the street, and ride a motor cab only to throw up (again) to the baffled early morning expressions of the people we passed by.

When Mich and I finally got to the pier, tickets were thankfully distributed, and pissed souls were gradually pacified. Had I been sober, I would’ve minded the text messages flooding my inbox or the missed calls spelling anger in every beep. When I got into the boat, my cot looked like a bed of roses as I lay me gently down to sleep. Amidst the excited voices of my fellow campus ambassadors, Ate Rose’s sermons, and Cokaliong’s signature chatter, I treated myself to one of the best sleep I’ve ever had.

I woke up to the nasty blaring of the ferry’s horn. So, this is Dapitan. Wasn’t this the place where Rizal was exiled for four years? Where he spent most of his time studying about life, love, and liberty? I noticed my companions getting ready to disembark so I hastily cast away my dizziness and tried to join the land of the living, even if I was feeling partially dead. The ride to Dipolog was, for lack of a better word, uneventful. But at least I enjoyed every minute of our 3-day stay, come rip-offs or hang overs.

What would I have done had I missed the trip?