"Turn right at that corner! Right! Right!" said the professor as he checked the directions on his cellphone. "Enter that area, we can park over there. Right there!"
"Is this where we are going on a date?" I asked him.
We are currently in the old Walled City of Intramuros, Manila, where he said he would let me experience the best date ever. Come to think of it, I heard that there are some classy restaurants around here.
"Yup, this is the Baluarte de San Diego1, we're having our date right here in Intramuros!" he said with a big grin on his face. "C'mon, let's walk the rest of the way."
"We're going to walk?" I raised my eyebrows at the professor who hates any form of exercise.
"Yeah, the moon's out and the weather's cool. It's not that far from here." He grinned at me again and took my hand.
We walked leisurely along the cobbled streets of old Manila, under the yellow glow of street lights and door posts along open walkways. It was like we were transported back in time as our shadows fell on the empty streets illuminated by the bright silver moon up above.
We went to a garden next to the ruins of a round structure where we sat on a bench and ate the cake he brought.
"Let's eat first before we get going."
I took a deep breath and leaned closer to him.
"So, you brought me here to eat cake under the moonlight?"
"Not just that, we've still go a long way to go."
This was enough for me, actually, knowing how dense and unromantic the professor is.
I wasn't expecting anything.
True, I was a little disappointed that we had never had an anniversary. I was also a little pissed after seeing how foolish he acts around his niece.
Perhaps that's why I decided to demand for more.
We went on our way after finishing the cake, past a garden twinkling with fairy lights, and arrived at an intersection where the professor hailed a horse drawn carriage.
"Careful when climbing the kalesa2, you might slip off the steps and break your neck!"
We went through the scenic route...
"See that old watch tower? They say the ghost of a man and his wife roam that place when the moon is full."
...past brightly lit churches...
"At midnight, a headless priest could be seen walking in that churchyard."
...all the while, I had my head on my professor's shoulder...
"If we're lucky, we might see the eerie procession of dead soldiers marching the streets."
...while he kept his arm around my waist and told me stories about the surroundings...
"They say if you touch the walls of Intramuros, you will feel the pain of those who were killed by the Spaniards and hear the cries of the prisoners in Fort Santiago!"
...I didn't really listen to his gruesome tales, though.
Just having the professor to myself that night was enough for me.
We went past a main thoroughfare and headed towards a sea port, to a park where the professor asked the coachman to let us off.
"We're here!" He took my hand again as he led me towards the harbor. I could not help but gaze at him and smile.
He looked so grand in his suit, even with his necktie loose. The salty air blew his shoulder length hair, making him appear to be a wild looking gentleman going off to sea, with me, his loyal assistant in tow.
We stopped by a corner where he turned around to face me, and placed his arm around my waist. He had the light of the bright moon behind him, but it was enough for me to see the sweet smile on his face.
"Habibi, are you happy?" he asked.
"Very," I answered. "This is probably the happiest I have ever been."
"Good."
He caressed my lip and leaned closer for a kiss.
"Now it's time to eat."
The kiss never landed.
The professor took my hand once more and pulled me towards a small group of people gathered beneath the light of a tall electric post.
"Manong3, can I have a barbecue stick?"
I stared at the small food cart with a built-in burner on one end, and a glass tank at the other, full of pink liquid. There was a deep frying pan full of boiling oil on top of the burner where small, bite sized pieces of what constitutes as meat, floated to the surface. The vendor gave Prof. Antonio two wooden sticks. He handed one to me and pulled me closer.
"Go ahead, just skewer what you want," he instructed me, as he pierced the small morsels through with the stick, making a queue of different shaped and colored meat.
"What exactly, are those... things?" I asked him.
"This is a fishball, this one's a squidball, and this one's a kikiam, but don't get that, since you don't eat pork." He continued pointing at the rest. "This one is a piece of hotdog, but you already know that, right? While this one is a chicken ball, and the orange balls are eggs coated in flour called kwek-kwek."
"And that pink liquid?" I asked, pointing at the tank at the end of the cart.
"That's sago-laman na samalamig4, with evaporated milk."
"Oh... is it an alcoholic beverage?"
The professor chuckled.
"Nope, just arnibal with pieces of sago and gulaman."
He handed me an empty paper cup.
"Use your stick to skewer the pieces and place them here so you don't drop them."
I tried to do what he did, but the small balls kept bobbing under the boiling oil.
"Do it this way..." Prof. Antonio held my hand and taught me how to skewer the balls properly. He then placed the balls, stick and all, inside the paper cup, and drizzled some sauce on it.
"There, go ahead and taste it."
I blew at the steaming balls and gingerly took a bite.
It actually tasted good.
The outer golden brown layer of the balls were crispy while the inside was chewy and quite flavorful.
"Want some more?" the professor asked when I finished my first serving.
"Let me skewer them myself," I said proudly.
It took a while, but I finally got the hang of skewering the pieces of morsel. Professor Antonio also bought us some samalamig. We brought these near the harbor where we sat on the low wall, listening to the waves break upon the rocks beneath out feet.
"You didn't get some hotdog?" he asked as I ate my squidballs.
"They are just hotdogs."
"But it's the sauce that makes all the difference." He picked one up with his barbecue stick and held it to my mouth. "Ahh..."
I bit on it.
"Well? Good, right?"
"Mm..." I nodded and gulped, "But I prefer my squidballs," I held one up which he swallowed whole.
We were still eating, with me leaning on the professor's shoulder, when we heard someone calling out.
"Baluuuuut!"
"`Uy, just in time!" the professor stood up and went to the vendor. He had a big grin on his face when he returned. "I've been wanting to feed this to you, but there aren't any vendors in our place."
"What is that?" I asked.
"Duck eggs!" He took out two large eggs from the small paper bag he held.
"Don't tell me, it's that infamous duck embryo you Filipinos call a delicacy."
"Exactly! Have you ever tasted one?"
"No. Never."
"You're in luck then–"
"No thank you."
"Just taste it!"
He cracked the egg on the concrete wall we were siting on and held it right in front of me.
"Go on, just have a little taste. Try sipping the juice inside. It's sure to strengthen your bones!" he grinned, raising his brows several times. "It's also an aphrodisiac, for when we get home later," he added in a low voice.
I felt my face burn.
"I only need to taste it?" I frowned at him.
"Yep, just sip the juice first."
I did as he told me.
"Well? How does it taste?"
"...the embryonic fluid is not as bad as I thought," I confessed. The professor laughed.
"You know, when my Kuya and I were kids, our dad used to buy us balut as pasalubong5 all the time. He say's it's to make us grow stronger. Whenever there's a special occasion like birthdays or Christmas or New Years, we would always come here in Intamuros or Luneta for a picnic, and we would eat all kinds of food, including balut."
"Is that so?"
"I remember, we used to watch the fireworks at night while we eat street foods and tell each other stories. We were really happy back then. That's why I told myself, when I grow up, I'll take Kuya on a date here, just like we did when our parents were still alive..."
I felt cold after hearing his story.
"So, I guess I am just a substitute for your brother, then?" I asked him.
"Of course not!" he faced me, frowning. "You know my Kuya got married at a young age `coz of his horny mate. Since then, I never could be alone with him, much less go on a date. And then I left to study in the US and came back when he was already too sick to go anywhere..." he trailed off. "That's why I told myself, the only person I will bring here would be the one who is most important to me."
I felt myself blush.
"T-then... why not take bebe Meme here instead?" I asked, looking away.
"Are you serious? Mercy's my niece, why would I date her? You want people to think I'm an incestuous pedophile?!" he told me with a frown. "Besides, it's not like her father would let me take her without a chaperon – meaning, him tagging along." He started laughed, then suddenly stopped.
"Wait a minute..." he paused, "Don't tell me, you're jealous of my niece?!"
I looked back at him, still frowning, and slapped his arm.
"I am not."
"Oh, then why are you hitting me?!" he chuckled.
"I said I am not," I snubbed him again, unconsciously sipping from my balut. "I just think that it is not proper for a grown man and a teenage girl to act so close to each other."
"Uy... someone's getting jealous!" he teased me, "Really, Habibi, Mercy is like my own daughter, can't you see how cute she is? In fact, we look so much alike that people often think I'm his dad!"
"I did," I replied, looking back at him with a frown. "I saw how cute your niece is and how much you dotted on her. How you hugged her, snuggled with her, raised her up in the air and even kissed her."
"Habibi..." the professor stared at me wide-eyed, his left hand covering the lower part of his face.
He reached out and touched my chin, tilting it up a bit, then slowly leaned over me, kissing the left side of my lips softly.
"The balut juice is dripping from your mouth."
"Huh?!" I felt pissed as he started to laugh again. "I'm serious here, professor!" I flared up.
"So am I," he touched my chin again, and this time, kissed me properly. "You think I'd take anyone else on a date here, aside from you?"
I wasn't able to answer him.
But then again, no one else is as close to the professor as I am.
"Professor, I'm the only person you could actually bring here," I said flatly.
"Uy, that's not true! I can always take..." he paused for a while to think. "Pedro and his wife! They can even bring our inaanak (godchild) with them, and we can ask them to cook for us and have a picnic! We can also bring Pilar, since she'll probably start sulking otherwise. She can even let her hubby tag along. He sure seems much better compared to that curly top who keeps chasing after you."
"That sounds more like a company outing," I told him.
"Exactly," he laughed, "`coz the only one I want to date here is you."
I stared at him again.
Even in the moonlight, I can see how his face had turned a bright red. He refused to face me and pointed at the moon instead.
"The moon looks so bright right now..." he mumbled, "even though it's not full yet."
I touched his shoulder, leaned over, and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you, professor, this is the best date I have ever gone to."
"You really mean it?" he asked.
"The only thing that would make this even better is if you agree to go back home with me."
"Let's head back, then." He stood up and took my balut, cracking the shell open and cutting it in half. He gave the yellow part to me and swallowed the remaining half. "I can't wait to get home and crack you open," he said, vulgarly.
"No, I meant my home," I told him, "back to the UAC–"
"Don't they say that 'home is where the heart is'?" he interrupted me. "Wherever you're most happy, that's the home you will go back to."
The professor took out some wet wipes to clean himself. He handed me some as well and even wiped my gaping mouth.
"C'mon," he said again, "let's go home."
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1Baluarte de San Diego – part of a fortification in the walled city, Intramuros which was constructed by the Spaniards in the colonial era.
2Kalesa or Caleza (Spanish) – a horse drawn carriage with 2 wheels.
3Manong – an Ilocano term meaning 'older brother', derived from the term 'hermano'. Usually used on the elderly to show respect, much like the term 'Sir', but is sometimes frown upon since it implies that the person is much old than you. The female equivalent is 'manang'
4Sago-laman na samalamig – a drink sweetened with arnibal or brown sugar syrup, with sago or tapioka pearls and gulaman or gelatin served cold or malamig
5Pasalubong – a homecoming gift or souvenir, usually in the form of food