Illustration: Peter C. Espina/GT

The tiny airport in Kalibo was filled with chatty Chinese tourists about to return home from the Philippines. Some, with their broad-rimmed hats and sun parasols, managed to stay fair after a week at the beach. I walked among them, proudly tanned. Perhaps because of my dark skin, airport staff spoke local dialect to me and tried to direct me to the domestic passenger side.

The minute the wheels hit the ground in Beijing, reality started to sink in. My skirt and sandals were not exactly suitable for the chilly weather, but that was the least of my worries. As I merged into the crowds, I was hit with a feeling of panic: My tan looked too dark.

I was never fair-skinned but even for me, I was too dark. I didn't feel too dark when I was on the beach. Heck, I was worried I wasn't getting tanned enough. But now, I just looked so out of place. Mind you, this is a country where fair skin is adored and worshiped, and people's idea of a vacation to the beach largely equals posing for the camera and staying out of the sun. I could hear my mother's scolding voice as I contemplated my darkness - she always, always carries a sun umbrella. I also heard my hair stylist's well-intended advice every time I show up: "You could really use some whitening products, dear."

I had a somewhat formal work-related meeting the next day. Worse than the tan, a flowery henna tattoo covered the whole of my left hand. It definitely looked unprofessional, and I had no way of covering that up. It was too early for long sleeves and gloves. What was I thinking?

I started to freak out.

I am what people might call the rational type. Which is really just a polite way of saying that I am not at all adventurous. I shy away from new, unfamiliar things. But I behave differently when I travel. After all, you are on vacation, trying to get to know a new culture. And you don't look ridiculous walking around with your skin reddened from the sun, because everybody is like that. There were temporary tattoo stands everywhere. People got braids. Going wild like that is all just part of the experience.

But eventually you have to return to your day-to-day life. Remember when you were a child and how difficult the beginning of a new semester was, because you have been playing all summer? Well, I guess work is always something of a headache for most people, but getting back to it after a relaxing vacation is just cruel. For me, the "trophies" that I carry back home - the tan, the fake tattoos - are not only a painful reminder of the vacation that's now over, but also an embarrassment, a glimpse of the wild side that I want to keep private. During the meeting, I hid my left hand under the desk and tried not to gesture with it. But, when it's time for my next vacation, I know I would do it all over again. Sometimes I can't control myself - it's just the way I am. Maybe I'll go really wild get the fake tattoo somewhere naughtier than the back of my hand. Like my ankle.