2009 ushers in many uncertainties. For one, the global economy is faltering. Many of these events started to unravel last year—a 2008 which gave us its share of significant events to remember. One story I will share in this article is a point of proof on how politics affect travel. This is the famous occupation of the Suvarnabhumi Airport of Bangkok by the PAD protesters. (I wrote about the airport in a previous article.)

BALUD (www.baludproject.org) which I co-founded was invited to present a paper about our project experience in the Third International Conference on Culture and Development. Our presentation was entitled ‘Success in Elementary Education: The BALUD Approach through Enhanced Arts, Music and Culture’. I was supposed to be presenting but then I had to go to Quito, Ecuador for another meeting. We hastily placed one of our Project Associates, Joey Mangadlao, a student of the University of the Philippines, to represent BALUD. We were unaware of the horrible experience that Joey will go through with his participation. Month prior to his trip, the BALUD Director for Linkages, Bryan Asis of DLSU, had a successful participation in the Workshop on Youth, Culture and Development in Thailand too. His was a smooth affair. Joey’s was different. This is his story.

Upon touchdown, I said to myself, “finally I will get to see the grand and golden temples of Thailand”. I arrived at midnight. I was in a Cebu Pacific flight. The airport was quiet. I looked for a money changer. I needed Baht. There was none. I was extremely hungry. Not a single shop was open–neither food stalls nor coffee shops. I felt weird about the eerie silence. I thought it was a normal night. To some extent I found it weird. As I got near the exit, I heard loud chanting. “I guess it’s just a concert”, I told myself.

The conference organizers gave instructions to meet the person brandishing my name on a placard. They were to welcome me. I looked for my name for three hours. There was none. It was getting early in the morning. My stomach was growling. My legs were giving up. Nobody spoke English. Nobody could answer my questions. I patiently waited at the entrance expecting some miracle to happen. Luckily my fate changed. I spotted two who I knew were Filipinos. One had a PUP shirt. The other was carrying dried mangoes. They were also participants in the same conference. They took the same flight. They have been waiting too. One had Baht so we decided not to wait for the organizers and hastily went to our hotel by taxi. We arrived at four in the morning.

I learned later on that Thailand was in the middle of a political storm. They wanted to oust PM Somchai Wongsawat because he is said to be a front of former PM Thaksin Shinawatra. (But then again this is Thailand. Nobody finishes a term without a coup.) Both have corruption charges lodged against them. I had no clue that the airport where I stood was blockaded by anti-government protesters. It wasn’t a concert after all. We went on with the conference despite the lack of international speakers and participants.

Outside, the turmoil went unabated. Suvarnabhumi stopped its operations. All flights were cancelled. The conference participants started to worry. My parents started to worry. My thesis supervisor started to worry. I worried the most. I had to finish my laboratory work and graduate on time. I left my Chemistry experiment just to attend the gathering.

Conference ended. There were no available flights. We felt hopeless. The generosity of the Thai government to host tourists in hotels for free alleviated the pain. Our extended stay was taken cared of by the organizers. They also provided some tours for our entertainment.



I, together with other Filipino participants, made frantic calls to our airlines. Nobody knew when flights will resume. We were all floating in limbo. Thousands of passengers were stranded. Moslem pilgrims had no clue how to fly to Mecca. They had a Hajj to fulfil . Americans had to be with their families for the Thanksgiving. Everyone just wanted to go out. No tourist wanted to neither go in for holiday making nor stay behind. The tourism industry was being badly hit.

I have never been in this situation before. I went through a lot of thoughts and a smorgasbord of feelings. I couldn’t even enjoy this beautiful country. The only thing I knew was that the situation was really out of my control so I just had to stay calm and hope for a miracle.

Some hope came. A military airport was opened for the use of repatriation. Other airlines started to fly and ferry stranded passengers. Gloria Arroyo ordered the immediate repatriation of Filipinos. Philippine Airlines came. But I was not a ticket holder of PAL. I was not a priority. This devastated me. We remained helpless at the PAL office.


Hoping to get into a PAL flight since there was an executive directive, we continued to queue at their office as early as seven in the morning. The crowd was overwhelming. Everyone just wanted to leave. Later on that day, at exactly five in the afternoon, we learned that Cebu Pacific will send a plane to Bangkok through the military airport. Check in time was eight o’clock. We dashed to the Cebu Pacific office to confirm that we are flying. We went back to the hotel to pack (I packed for a record time of five minutes) and arrived at the airport check in counter at exactly eight o’clock. We were able to do these tasks against all odds—the horrific traffic of Bangkok and the sheer distance of all these places. We were the last passengers admitted. I flew back to Manila relieved.

This experience I went through was extraordinary. I would consider this as one of the more memorable ones. The feeling of being stranded is indescribable. This is a real life experience. I learned patience. I also learned how to deal with people. I do not blame the Thais for the pain I went through. And this will not stop me from visiting the country again. I just have to visit though at the right time.