Saturday, February 28, 2009


On the Beach
approx. size 11" x 18"
acrylic on canvas

"PETRA. I am from Norway. I teach kinder!" She had to say it aloud for me to hear her above the din of the dance music and the drunken revelry of the 20-something Canadian and British English-language teachers from Taiwan I was hanging out with that night at Hey Jude! bar. Barry, the big black Canadian with the barrel chest was pouring my "nth" shot of tequila and kept on yelling "MABUHAY!" into my ear. It was the first time I've actually sat close to a half-naked black man that I can't help but take note of the tiny swirls of kinky hair clumped on his chest and scalp. It also dawned on me that he's the first black man of (obviously) African descent I've known who didn't have a strong pungent smell. (Compared to the smattering of Africans I have known in my life, this guy actually smells good.)

"I am Dan. I am Filipino," I told Petra and I handed her a glass of tequila that Barry readily poured. "Cheers!" I said as I lifted my glass and took one quick swig.

"Let's dance," she said and she pulled me by the arm taking me to the wooden, sand-filled floorboards in front of the bar that also served as dance floor. There was already a small crowd of shaking, arm-waving, hip swaying dancers moving to a Kylie Minogue song. She led me into the midst of this crowd beside an old white guy with a huge beer belly and his tiny bikini-clad dark-brown Filipina partner who was squid-like in the way she kept on wrapping her arms around him.

Petra curled her finger, motioned for me to come nearer and placed my hand on her hip as she swayed it lustfully to the rythm of the music. She lifted her arms revealing the smooth curves of her body, the quivering firmness of her chest and the white, silken skin beneath her arms. As the music thumped to a faster pace, Petra screeched in delight and in one smooth, rythmic flow, she tilted her head back letting her long blonde locks fall and sway, and her neck with its long sinuous ivory-like shape glistened with sweat. She was sensual. She was hot. She was sex.

The combination of alcohol, the soothing evening beach weather, gyrating bodies around me, a woman shaking her wild feminine-ness... these drove my blood to near boiling. It curdled to the surface when during a pause in the music, she leaned on me and whispered in my ear, "I like you."

I gulped.

As fast as she took me by the hand and led me to the dance floor; as fast as I got to know her that night; and as fast as the way this evening was going to turn out to be more interesting than sitting beside a black man who kept on pouring tequila into my glass... I was going to get "lucky".

"My place?" she offered. I didn't hesitate to say yes since by now I am sure the guys I share a room with are already snoring in their sleep. "It's just a few steps from here" and I was glad it was. I was already beginning to have difficulty holding it in.

We slipped out of the bar and walked the few steps towards where she was staying in that island. When we reached the dark lobby of the resort, she stumbled and I held her fast trying not to fall myself with my own drunken state. Fixed in an awkward position – half standing, half-falling, my arms around her preventing her from touching the floor - she looked at me with dazed eyes and said, "I like you big Filipino." She drew my face to her and planted a long wet kiss on my lips. In that dark lobby I held her, felt the softness of her lips, one hand in the arch of her back and the other gripping the suppleness of her thigh. Her kiss felt like a long dive into warm, dark waters. It engulfed me.

"I have to go to the washroom for a while before we go to my room," she said as she slipped from my arms. She walked towards the other end of the lobby as I sat on a bamboo chair in one corner. I felt I had to tell someone, so I took out my mobile from the pocket of my shorts.

"Hey tol, guess what? I’m going to get laid. Hehehe…" I told my brother when he picked up on the other end.

"Huh?" he said with a sleepy voice on the other end.

"She’s a blonde Norwegian. Hot and sexy. Va-va-va-voom," I told him excitedly.

"REALLY eh?? Go! You still have hope after all," I could hear him cheering me on.

"Okay, I’ll call you again tomorrow. 'Night." I turned off my mobile and placed it back into my pocket.

I sat there in the dark waiting for her to come out from the washroom.

A few seconds went by with her still in the washroom, I stood up. I walked towards the doorway of the lobby, looked back and paused for a while. I heard flushing from a toilet followed by the bang of a cubicle door closing and then the sound of water flowing from an opened faucet. I turned my face towards the black, star-filled night with the sound of the waves rolling on the beach, closed my eyes… and walked out of the lobby. I took the heavy steps back to the resort where I was sharing a room with a couple of already snoring companions.


"So, what happened last night?" I could hear my brother’s voice on the other end when I woke up to answer my mobile.

"Nothing," I said, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes.


"I chickened out."

"Too bad, It would be nice to have a blonde nephew or niece."

"Duuuughhh…" I said crossing my eyes.


This happened in the summer of 2003 in the island of Boracay. The painting above is in memory of that. It’s now quietly hanging in the living room of my cousin Ray in Boston, Massachussettes.


rye said...

lesbiyana!?! hehehhehhe

Bella Sinclair said...

Awwww, I loved reading this story! I had a lot of respect for you before, but now it's just shot through the roof. Beautiful painting, too. Carefree. You dyed her hair. :)

nutart said...

wellll...norwegian hey? they have the blood of viking women! ;-D

your painting have so much childlike frolic in it than the sensuous-ness of your narrative!