March 31, 2011 Thursday
Yesterday, I was able to talk to Thel, Kiko's wife. She was following up some papers in Kohms that's why she was able to contact me. She was surprised to learn that I was leaving. They had no idea that I came to that decision already. Knowing how close Kiko and I were, she thought of arranging a meeting for us but realized that it was no longer possible because I would be leaving early on the next day. I tried to sound unaffected, I just didn't know if I was successful.
This morning, we were asked to board the van at 8:30 AM because departure time would be at 9:00 AM. I was disappointed that we were not able to have mass. Fr. Allan arrived when we were boarding the vans already so there was no time for it. He went over to each of the van to give his blessings. He was surprised to find out that I had no companion. "Ang tapang ha!" (You're so brave, huh!), he remarked. He extended his hand to me and said, "Take care." Then he asked Bong, the comic relief in our group to take care of Ate Naty (one of the two women seated in front) and help her with her luggage because she was alone. (Teddy also asked Bong during the previous night to take care of me). Fr. Allan and I used to be close so I was wondering why he didn't ask Bong to help me. Later, I learned that Ate Naty was very ill. She had leukemia and she was going home to Zamboanga alone. Again, I was slapped on my face by my pettiness.
We left the embassy grounds at exactly 9:00 AM. I called up Dr. Shabous and Dr. Naj when we started moving. Both of them wished me a safe journey and told me to keep in touch. Edna called offering me shelter in Mesolata in case I was troubled by being alone in Tripoli. I told her that the offer came too late because I'm already on my way to the border. Sadly, she bade me goodbye. I told her that it would just be a vacation and I would go back to Libya as soon as I can.
We traversed the road going to Tunisia and passed by Zawia. It was like a ghost town with most buildings riddled with bullets. Most of the gas stations we passed by were either close or were overfowing with queues of cars waiting for their turn to fill up their tanks with precious gasoline.At the head of our convoy was a car that carried an official of the embassy and a Libyan interpreter who also acted as our guide; four vans followed. The convoy moved slowly because of the checkpoints but no untoward incident took place. We were instructed not to declare our cellphones and to tell the patrol guards that we left our mobile phones in the embassy. Every time we passed by a checkpoint, we kept quiet, not knowing what to say or do. We also observed that the checkpoints have different loyalties. At one checkpoint, the regime's green flag was displayed prominently, however on the next checkpoint, the rebels' flag took the attention of motorists.
It is also worth mentioning that the Philippine convoy was given easier passage than those that had black African passengers. Most of us gave a sigh of relief every time we eased out from one checkpoint. Finally, after more than four hours , we reached the border. An official from the DFA met us and got our passports. We waited for sometime while our passports were being stamped. A staff from the UN's Organization for International Migrants was also at hand to document our arrival. Snacks were also offered by OWWA staff.
After almost an hour of waiting, we were asked to mobilize, leaving our passports with the OWWA people. The DFA official said that a bus provided by OWWA was waiting for us at the Tunisian border. We were asked to walk through the one kilometer neutral zone between the Libyan and Tunisian borders. It was during this walk that I remembered Bok and as expected, underneath my sunglasses, tears fell. He was always with me in my "walking time" in Tripoli and he always carried my "heavy load" both material and emotional. I remembered him telling me to be brave because from then on, I have to continue the journey on my own. He said it during the early part of the uprising, when he went to his family in Zletin and he could no longer return to Tripoli. It was so prophetic.
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