Snow on the Beach by Angela Francesca Pablo (page

Snow on the Beach

By Angela Francesca Pablo

Living in the Philippines, I was surrounded by many beautiful beaches. This is where my happiest memories were made. It was my place of retreat to escape the busy city life. It served as a place of serenity and peace for me and my family. Out of all the beaches in the Philippines, the charming beach of Calatagan Batangas was my favourite. My family had the tradition of going here during the Christmas holidays. When we were there, we stayed at the Stilts resort, which got its name from its unique villas that stand over the water. The season was special to us as it was the only time we would be a complete family since my mom and aunt worked overseas. The addition of my grandfather’s birthday being the next day just gave us more to celebrate. Our limited time together made our celebration of the holidays special and our celebration of the holidays made Calatagan beach our treasure.

The year 2015 was the most memorable one yet. Like every year, we left our house at seven o’clock am, and our car was filled with luggage and laughter. However, during the drive there, our car engine started smoking. We remained stranded at a random restaurant for four hours waiting for someone to help us fix the car. For an impatient eight year old, this was torture. Luckily, I had my five year old cousin, Zuleyka, to play with. With her, four hours flew by. We played games such as hide and seek and ‘ nanay tatay ’ (a traditional Filipino game), but eventually we got tired and took a nap while the adults worked out a solution.

They called a car mechanic to come help us but instead, my grandfather came. Usually my grandfather would go on these trips with us, but this year he had to stay back due to his dialysis treatments. He started his treatments for kidney failure, and would go two or three days a week. He came to the rescue right after he had finished his treatment for the day, accompanied by his driver, my great aunt and great grandmother. I felt like the happiest girl in the world when my mom turned to me and my cousin told us that he was coming. I immediately replied by saying “Lolo is like superman” . When he arrived I immediately gave him a hug, but also allowed him to start working on the car as soon as possible. My grandma, however, was not as thrilled as I was. Although thankful for his arrival, she worried for his health and would not allow him to work on the car himself so he told my uncle and his driver what to do. After he saved the day, we had dinner at the restaurant and continued our drive.

When we arrived later than expected, the first thing my cousin and I did was go for a night swim. It was a short swim but after that, I walked with my cousin and grandfather on the beach and drew pictures on the sand. By the end of the night my cousin and I passed out in our room. The next few days were spent with family on the beach or by the poolside. I preferred the poolside. During breakfast, my cousin and I would learn how to play ‘ sungka’ (a Filipino board game similar to mancala). On most nights, we would go to dinner with a live show of traditional Filipino dances. One night, they called up an audience member to dance with them—my grandmother! Coincidentally, my grandmother is a talented dancer. She performed the traditional ‘tinikling’ dance and stole the show. When we arrived at our villa to end the night, my cousin and I would watch movies. Our favourite was High School Musical, and from the number of times we have watched it, we know every song and dance without missing a beat.

During the trip, my mother would capture special moments through her camera. She took photos of everything, from little details of the villa to the whole family sitting around the dinner table. Luckily for her, I loved being her muse. Anytime she reached for her camera, I would break out my best poses and flash her my biggest smile. As I got ready and put on my blue bikini, I told her to take a picture of me by the hammock. It was my favourite spot for talking, eating and watching the sun rise and set. I loved it so much, I even proposed the idea of sleeping there. Our memories remain still in the photos we took. In these photos the drawings in the sand never washed away and the trip never ended. But in reality, for me, it did.

The end of this trip was also the end of tradition. Like every year I left that beach excited to come back the next, but ever since then I had not set foot on the sand. From then on Christmas has been incomplete. The holidays lost its magic. Every celebration since feels insignificant and meaningless. The beach is no longer my place of serenity and peace but a mere myth. If you told my younger self that our tradition of going to the beach stopped, I would have assumed we found a different beach visit. Instead I spend Christmas making footprints in the snow instead of the sand.