And so my confidence in VaxCertPh was renewed when the Integrated Provincial Health Office helped with uploading my booster shot into the system. And it came at a time when travel restrictions had been dropped.
Vaccination cards are the only things required now to travel within the Philippines, but having a record online is the ultimate assurance, just in case.
I never imagined that a trip to Manila was long overdue for me but this time, it really was.
What with her having waited for me in Manila for a good two years and eight months because of the pandemic and some other things. Sadly, there was no way that I could have communicated with her, and even if I could have, she would have never known that I did.
I was excited about buying my ticket to Manila. I had that familiar feeling of gaiety, knowing that I could then start counting the days until I saw her again. I was already missing her something fierce, a feeling hard to describe to just anyone. Only those who have experienced her, or another like her, would be receptive enough to understand. Just seeing her, her curves, the sheen on her skin, and oh, that front end, would make anyone drool.
I remember people’s gazes falling on us whenever we were together. I kind of relished the feeling I got from that. Oh, I miss her!
While I was full of anticipation and hope that I could make it back to Dumaguete within just a week with her in tow, I was also full of doubt that it would ever happen that way. I knew I was going there with a purpose, and my every move would be done to accomplish something each time, but, unfortunately, I would also be relying on other people’s services.
That itself shouldn’t present a problem, if not for the fact that I am talking about government people.
In 2019 when I left her in Manila, I had paid someone to run her documents so she could be cleared to be in the Philippines. The effort was interrupted because of the redundance of specific requirements that could only be fulfilled by them physically handling her, but they had no access to her, nor did I want them to have that access. So the effort came to a grinding halt. It could only resume once I returned to Manila.
After a few months, I returned on a flight from Los Angeles to Manila to Dumaguete. It was just as well because there were some things that I had to leave in Dumaguete before I could return and move freely in Manila.
Unfortunately, the pandemic happened, and the country was locked down. It really wouldn’t have mattered then if I was already in Manila because everything was suspended anyway.
After that, when restrictions were eased up a little, quarantines and RT-PCR tests were still in place, creating such unprecedented nuisance to travelers. Besides through all that, only a handful were authorized to travel, and I couldn’t have been, for my purpose.
Toughing it out all that time was the only thing I could do until recently, when restrictions were lifted. On the day of my flight, inside the terminal, it was almost like we never went through a pandemic, everything was just normal to me, except for the now-familiar masks.
As soon as the main landing gear was off the ground, visions of her came rushing in. I could feel the thumping in my chest. It was only interrupted by thoughts of those government people who had time-delaying powers.
What if they said, “Your papers are not in order,” stamping the documents INCOMPLETE? Nah, that can’t be because my runner would have already told me that, I thought. That gave me a little charge of confidence once more.
When I got to my cousin’s house (where I left her, I could now disclose), I was reluctant to take a look at her. Instead, I went inside, greeted my cousin and her two sisters who were visiting her. We talked, but I wasn’t all there because my mind was on Her, all shrouded, protected from dust.
Finally, this time I could not hold my anxiety anymore. What did she look like after all this time? I had to go find out. I went to the garage, and there she was, all mysterious-looking, and me feeling like that would be my first time to see her.
My cousin’s driver helped remove the nylon cloth cover. As we pulled the last inch off her, I gasped in utter surprise–she was still so clean and ever so beautiful.
Then the driver said, “I’ve been cleaning her, sir.” Bless his heart for being so kind to her.
Then the moment of truth was to follow. Will she turn over? I was confident she would because she was hooked up to a battery tender. I turned the key, and pushed the button, and then my heart sank. She would not turn over, and there were no dash lights–the battery was dead. It must have died from old age because the tender was still working.
Being in Manila, it was easy to find the exact battery for her. All they had to know was that she was a BMW R1200RT, and her age, of course.
I had two choices of stores, one in Caloocan, and one in Quezon City. The driver took me to the one in QC because it was closest to us. Getting back, I hooked up the battery, crossed my fingers, and pushed the start button.
To my amazement, she started right up, like she was never asleep for all that time. She purred and then I gradually blipped the throttle to check for sluggishness. There was none. I give credit to Chevron with Techron gas, and Mobil 1 oil, what she had leaving the States. I know that here in the Philippines now, she would enjoy Shell V-Power gasoline.
The next thing was to take her to the Highway Patrol Group headquarters in Camp Crame to get cleared. There was someone there I knew. We started out early from Las Piñas, me following the driver in a car as I don’t know my way in Manila.
Getting there too early, I waited an hour before the process could begin. I wish they had a map of the steps to take. I mostly relied on information I could get from talking to the people there.
First step was to take a piece of paper, and go to Landbank on base to pay the fee. My friend had someone do that for me.
Once paid, the etching (stenciling) could be done. Of course, the stencil man was late, blurting out excuses as he approached us. Two stencils had to be taken from the chassis and engine.
The chassis number was partially covered by the tank bag bracket so it had to be removed. Surprisingly, it being a National HPG HQ garage, they had no tools whatsoever. Luckily, I had the tool in the bike’s tool bag. To make a long story short, it was done, and the documents were ready for processing.
I had to wait for an hour and a half for the clearance. They told me the bike had to be verified with InterPol as ‘not stolen’. When I got the clearance, that was one hell of an anxiety relief.
But another one started. It was time to go to the main Land Transportation Office in QC for the registration. I feared I couldn’t get the registration done that day, or that week, and my fear was multiplied as soon as we entered the LTO compound.
Someone told me to follow the sign that says “Diliman,” and there was such a sign. As I entered that little side street inside their compound, I thought that maybe I made a mistake. This place looked like it was on the edge the slums. There were vendors on the sides. And fixers, in total disregard of the posters warning people against them. The LTO employees seemed not to mind. I can only say that it looked like a scary place. Well, anyway, it turned out to be the wrong building. I was supposed to go to the East building.
I moved, and as soon as I got there to park, a security guard told me that a Marites was coming out to fetch me, and escort me inside. So strange, I thought, that she already knew I was there.
Then I faced the guard squarely, and told him that if ‘Marites’ was a fixer, he had better get lost. He left with nary a word.
Strangely, I didn’t have much of a problem at the LTO, except that I was annoyed at the number of people doing the same thing. It seemed to me like they could do with just half of them. But what the hell, the government is paying for that waste, right? We are paying for that waste!
What was surprising is that I got it done that day! The inspection was quick. The smog check was super quick at about one second. Really! I even had a license plate number issued, and the actual plate would come out end of June.
In contrast, the scooter I bought at Du Ek Sam in Dumaguete two years ago still doesn’t have an assigned plate!
There was just a little bomb at the end of all that–the lady said their system was down, and if I could pick up the OR/CR the next day. What other choice did I have?
I picked it up the next day, Friday. It still gave me a sigh of relief because, as I was prepared for the worst, it turned out relatively easy.
So I booked myself and the bike with 2Go Shipping. As I bought the ticket for myself, I was told to register online, and get an S-Pass, which I did. When I left the bike at the pier on Saturday, to be prepped for loading on Monday, the scheduled departure, my S-Pass application was still pending. Other passengers from Zamboanga said theirs were approved in 10 minutes.
Negros Oriental, what’s going on?
Upon my return to Dumaguete, I went to the Governor’s office to find out who actually approves these applications for S-Pass. Then I learned that the Province does not require them anymore, and that everyone concerned were informed.
The question arises whether the Province has sent out official communiques to all regarding that. They said they did, but 2Go just hasn’t updated. But it’s strange that 2Go would inform passengers that Cebu does not require them. How do they know about Cebu, and not Negros Oriental?
With the way it is in our country, it is sad that I can only attribute smooth transactions to luck.
Why so? Because others tell of nightmarish experiences. It’s hard to find out why it is that way.
All I can say is, there is no way I will do this again. I really don’t like government offices where customers wait where it’s hot, while employees unashamedly enjoy the taxpayer-paid air conditioning inside. They could not even provide electric fans!
My only consolation is that we’re together again, my RT and me, and she has her OR/CR.
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Author’s email: bjplug@gmail.com
