On to Binabalian
A Chronicle of the Beach and the Bitch


Webster’s New World Dictionary (Third College Edition) defines:

beach (bēch) noun. an area of shore as a place for swimming often washed by high water

bitch (bich) noun. malicious, bad tempered or aggressive person

To be by the beach is a pleasant experience; by a bitch, vexing.

I have had both of the above last December 19, 2007 as our TCA-iSchools team went to Binabalian National High School for an on-site visit and inspection. We were quite a crowd this time, with the whole team present plus Dr. Guillermo Rillon, dean of the Institute of Engineering and Computer Studies and Dr. Benjamin Hilario, former vice-president for Academics Affairs.

Most of us are beach lovers, so the very thought of going to one, thrilled us.
Bolinao is infamous for its shores glorified by white sand. On top of this, we were onto visiting an island which made this “laboratory-readiness evaluation” sound like an adventure trip, more than a task.

But indeed, one can’t have all the good things at a time. This explained the presence of a bitch among the group, perpetually maligning me when “it” finds opportunity to do so, whenever, wherever. “It” (the bitch) is superiorly gifted with the art of slandering. “It” is always on the go of uttering a slur which never fails to upset me. I tried to buckle down and gather all effort to act like a civil man does midst this adversity, although I was really boiling inside.

On our way to Bolinao, this bitch blabbed on— I tried not to mind those humiliating words from “it.” Yet, “its” degrading words have the power to permeate even through unyielding ear.

I wished I was not there with “it.” The beach in Bolinao, I badly needed… it will pacify this intensifying animosity I harbor, before it grows into uncontrollable rage.

After almost four-hour drive, we were at the Bolinao town proper, Mr. Domingo S. Gamueda, principal of Binabalian National High School was there to usher us. The excitement among the team went high in anticipation of the views and the experiences that await us.

I could have totally forgotten I was with a bitch because I will be by the beach, but “it” saw to it that I will feel “its” presence. While traveling to the port, which is approximately 10 minutes away from the town proper, “Its” spirit-piercing, double-bladed-shaming verses were sung to me again. The puzzle of my life: “What have I done to deserve this kind of treatment?”

Maybe the wind by the sea will blow away “its” fetish along with my growing hatred towards “it” which by this time, I was shakingly controlling.

On the motor boat, I share the feeling with the members of the team: we were awestruck by the spectacular vista—bit by bit uncovered as we sail along the sea. We saw few houses-built-on- islands overlooking the seemingly infinite water. The islands we saw were canopied by greeneries, each seemed to lure us to explore what’s hidden among the foliage. The sea itself evoked mystery as it changed its colors. At one time; it reflects the blue sky, then the shade of emerald green would take it over. Maybe driven by the ecstasy this experience caused, Dr. Rillon waved at the other sailors we met, as if he were a superstar greeting his fans.

The bitch was silenced by the beach. Not even “its” obsession of pissing me around overpowered the splendor of the sea and its islands. I was entirely at peace with the environment. The fury inside me was cooled down.

But some good things never last, they say. Now, the spell of the beach to the bitch was gone. The curse on me resumed, because “it” saw something on me again.

Sometimes, I was envious of the people from Binabalian National High School whom “it” talked with, because “it” explained with compassion. When Mr. Gamueda learned about the postponement (again) of the handing over of the PCs, he was not able to hide his disappointments. Like most of the schools we were in-charge of, the school’s computer center is ready for the installation of the PCs and the air-conditioning units although the MOA is just short of the division superintendent’s signature to be assumed finished. The principal and his ICT coordinator only managed to ask “When?”

“It” is all we need to justify the delays of the handing over of the iSchools project’s components. “It” clearly explained:

· the Department of Education and Commission on Information and Communications Technology wrangled over which schools must be benefited;

· the DepEd insists on CICT to take the recommendation of giving the PCs to the public high schools the former has identified;

· the DepEd main office may not officially excuse its teachers if they are to attend the seminars sponsored by the iSchools, however “ Principal Empowerment” may be exercised to deflect this; and

· the PCs are on trial run-through to evaluate their durability and efficacy, this means that the computer units are available, and after the test, will be ready to be delivered to the iSchools beneficiaries.

With genuine compassion, “it” disscussed with the principal, among others of the sure delivery of the PCs come January 2008. “It” can really be nice to other people but me. As we took the refreshments served, the bitch hot eyes and blaspheming tongue targeted me again. I wish I can detail how damaging “its” words were to me, but I will not give a clue on who he/she is. How I longed to be by the beach again.

Heading home, I thought of the experiences we had. I concluded that there are only two things which can stop the bitch from doing “its” compulsion to put me down: vocal/physical tiredness and the magic of the beach.