I might have thought that there was an unconsoling effect in how places that “develop” lose their old-world flair. You return to a place to find your memory of the place completely altered, and not always for the better. Establishments need renovations every now and then, but physical repairs or even so-called development shouldn’t change an already healthy, thriving spirit.
One of these experiences is drinking beer and eating margherita pizza in bars by the beach. Hey Jude! in Boracay tops the list in my head. It's best to have it in the afternoon, watching the sunset and the transforming skyline while listening to chillout music. Charming restaurants like those which were owned and operated by foreigners who settled in the island must be very few nowadays. Industrialization and more competitive businesses have taken over. Starbucks, hotel chains like Shangri-La, even fast food chains like McDonalds, Chowking, and Andok's. That changes the entire milieu of the place. Back then, you walk into a place and you know it’s more for that sprit of fun rather than the profit.
I don’t need to go back to discover how much things have changed. I keep my own experience and take my beer and margherita pizza somewhere else. It's never going to be the same.
This weekend, I find myself in a mall with D. and the little one. It’s a rainy August evening, in a city that just a few days ago was submerged in monsoon floods.
We ordered margherita pizza: brick-oven baked in a thin crust along with beer that underwent that below-zero or frostbite treatment. They put chemicals in the bottle to get it the right kind of cold. It kills some of the alcohol’s flavor, but beer snaking down your throat in that temperature is perfectly thirst-quenching. We have herbed chicken and fries on the side.
The little one picks out the tomatoes in the pizza. He’s a sucker for tomatoes and he often points to and demands for either parmesan cheese or salt we have on the shelves. We often succumb to giving him a pinch or two.
I prefer eating it this way: curled in a shape similar to a parabola. The basil, tomato and parmesan in each side bash against each other, and packs up their flavors as I bite.
I’ve always thought I’d remember the beach when eating margherita pizza with beer. But tonight I say, nevermind. Nevermind tonight’s rain. Nevermind that the guests of the restaurants have to use knives and forks to eat a thin crust pizza. Nevermind that we are in a mall instead of Boracay in 1999. Nevermind that I can never make that experience happen the same way again.
I am here with the both of you and we always live life anew. In the way things change, the spirit feels consoled.
