Page 17 of Between Then and Now
“Good,” he murmurs, his voice like a balm. “Keep doing that. Just focus on your breathing. You’re gonna be okay.”
The plane continues to shake as we descend, but I’m somehow calmer now, thanks to Ryan guiding me through the breathing exercises. As the runway grows closer, the pilot skillfully maneuvers through the rough air, finally touching down with a slight jolt. I finally feel my mind and my heart settle, so I open my eyes.
I realize I’m still clutching Ryan’s hand, and I notice our intertwined fingers. I quickly pull my hand away, feeling a faint flush of embarrassment.
“Thanks,” I say, my voice a bit hoarse. I notice the imprint of my ring on his fingers from how tightly I was holding him. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to–”
“It’s nothing.” He chuckles. He bends over to get a bottle of water and unscrews the cap. “Here. Drink up.” He hands it to me, and I take it. The water is surprisingly comforting, and I watch Ryan out of the corner of my eye. He’s stretching his fingers and cracking his knuckles. I suddenly feel bad for probably being the cause of that discomfort.We sit in silence for a moment as the other passengers gather their belongings.
“You’re really good at this, by the way,” I say as I lean back into my chair.
“Well, if I’m not good at this… I might as well be an underwear model.” Ryan shrugs nonchalantly.
“What a shame for the grannies that you’re good at this, then,” I say in emphasis. We both laugh as the fear from earlier completely subsides.
We finally retrieve our stuff and disembark, stepping into the warm, tropical air of Batanes. As we go out of the airport, the first thing that hits me is the air. It’s different here. It’s still hot, but it’s crisp and shockingly pure. Unlike Manila, where five minutes out in the open air will clog my pores and grease my hair. The view is breathtaking, even from here. I can see rolling hills and coastlines in a distance. I almost forget the discomfort of the turbulent landing and a sense of excitement replaces it as we prepare to change lives and have our lives changed in return.
CHAPTER NINE
Ryan
We manage to fit into three jeepneys. With twenty-five people and all the luggage, it’s amazing it only takes three. It’s five in the afternoon, and the sun is setting. As we journey through the winding roads of Batanes, the sun paints the sky in shades of deep orange and soft pink. The sunlight filters through wispy clouds, casting a warm, golden glow over the rugged landscape.
The island's terrain unfolds before us like a painting—rolling hills dotted with grazing cattle, cliffs that drop dramatically to meet the turquoise sea, and quaint stone houses with thatched roofs nestled among coconut palms. Each turn reveals a view that’s more breathtaking than the last.
The air is crisp, carrying the scent of saltwater and wildflowers on a gentle breeze that rustles through the grass. In the distance, fishing boats bob on the calm waters, their reflections shimmering like mirrors under the fading sunlight.
As we approach a particularly scenic overlook, the jeepney slows, allowing us all to take in the panoramic view. The sun, now a fiery ball dipping below the horizon, reflects off the water’s surface and turns the horizon into a flurry of different colors.
“This is unbelievable,” someone whispers, breaking the reverent silence that has settled over us. We all nod in agreement, mesmerized by the natural splendor unfolding before our eyes. It is a moment of awe and gratitude, realizing how fortunate we are to experience such untouched beauty.
I glance at Bon, who is seated beside me. The wind from the jeepney window is blowing through her hair but she stillmanages to capture footage of the ride. She takes photos, videos, and records commentary on what she’s seeing.
“This is the town proper. The only place with reception,” our guide says, gesturing to the surroundings. In the town proper, there are local cafes with colorful facades, inviting small restaurants serving fresh food, and serene parks where locals gather. “This is a twenty-minute ride from our station.” The jeepney slows to an almost halt when the guide asks, “Do you need anything from the town before we make our way to the countryside?”
Nobody responds, so we continue our journey. As we leave the town behind, the transition to the remote countryside is stark. The paved roads give way to rugged paths, winding through rolling hills adorned with swaying grasses and occasional clusters of coconut palms. The landscape seems to stretch endlessly, untouched by modern development.
Birds soar overhead, their calls blending with the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Bon continues to document our journey, capturing the essence of Batanes in each frame as the jeepney bounces along the uneven terrain.
When we arrive at our designated location, we stop at an inn nestled among rolling hills and overlooking the sea. The setting sun casts a glow on the charming structure, making it look like something out of a postcard.
The inn looks like a quaint and cozy house, like something ancestral. True to the aesthetic of this island, the middle structure is made of cobblestone walls. On opposite sides, there are wooden extensions that look like a bird’s wings sprawled out. I have a feeling the middle one is an actual home, and the wooden structures were added over the years by the succession of innkeepers.
It’s as if the inn itself has grown with every generation of the family that maintains it. The roof, a patchwork of wooden shingles, slopes unevenly, adding even more to the homey feel of the place. Ivy creeps up on one side, while brightly colored flower boxes (no, assorted boxes and pots and cans?) perch on the windowsill.
All of us are still admiring the inn when Dr. Fernandez calls for us to gather in front of it for our room assignments. Around the inn, there are several tents already set up, which I assume are where we’ll conduct our medical assistance.
Dr. Fernandez methodically assigns sleeping quarters to each group. People start moving towards their rooms, chatting excitedly about the cozy place and the breathtaking views. When she reaches me, she calls for Bon and me to step forward.
Bon is engrossed in capturing photos of the inn, so I gently nudge her to follow me. “Ryan, before we give you your room assignment, I just want to apologize for the lack of preparation on the organizers’ part,” Dr. Fernandez begins, her expression apologetic. “There’s a maximum of two people per room, and only one room at the top floor can accommodate more than that. Long story short, your friend Bon was added last minute, and unfortunately, there are no available beds with the women anymore. Your room, however, has a spare.” She trails off.
Bon raises an eyebrow, glancing at me as if to confirm we’re both hearing the same thing.
“I don’t mind sharing with Bonbon,” I say quickly, hoping to smooth over any potential awkwardness.
Bon nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, no problem at all, Doc. We’ll make it work.”
Dr. Fernandez looks relieved. “Thank you for being so understanding. You’ll be in Room 8, just down the hall. If thereare any issues, please let me know.” She hands us keys to the room. It’s refreshing to see rooms with actual keys and not those beeping key cards.
