BETTER early than sorry, was my motto for my trip back to Bacolod City from Manila a week before Christmas. That wisdom is from experience.

When I was in college, I often caught my flights home at the last minute during the Christmas break, until one time, my luck ran out. The wall of the pre-departure area separating the early from those who were late was made of glass. My roommate, Debbie Garcia, now a dermatologist, was already inside and I was outside when passengers were called for boarding. Accepting the inevitable, I shouted for her to tell my parents I will make it home all right.

This was the 23rd of December, and all flights were booked up to a week after the New Year. The fainthearted would have given up, but having trained in a university where the motto ''Never say die'' was invented, I then proceeded to survey the area for company, and found, as willing comrades, other students. In unison, we continuously barraged the Philippine Airlines clerk for an extra flight. In the evening, we settled down with our backs on the wall, seated on the concrete floor. For us students, this was the normal sitting position and we didn't mind. The only problem was, by this time I had little money left, and I suppose, the same with the others.

But lo and behold, the overseas workers came. Out came the chocolates, the booze and the playing cards. Black jack and pusoy kept us up all night, taking turns sleeping to make sure we had the energy to storm the PAL manager's castle the following day.

In the morning, the manager, having weighed the consequences of having rowdy, broke students and intoxicated, homesick overseas workers for days and nights in his entrance lobby, put us all on special flights to Bacolod and wherever we wanted to go.

So this time, I was not taking any chances. To catch my four o'clock flight I had to leave by 12, giving allowance for the horrendous traffic no doubt caused by shoppers. I nearly had to ''carnap'' a cab, but since that is not a bailable offense, I bribed the cab driver instead. I estimated it would take me at the worst, two hours to get to the airport.

I was somewhat disappointed that I got to the airport before one o'clock, because that meant having to wait for the check-in counter to open at two. But this would make my life easier, I thought.

I was wrong. Outside the check-in area were more than a hundred people, some seated, some lying down on the floor with their luggage and boxes. For years, nobody bothered to expand the terminal and they kept charging us terminal fee. There was a shouting mob in front of the desks with the sign ''wait-listed passengers.'' It occurred to me that I had to hurdle that mob before I could get to where my favorite hopia mongo was located. I surveyed the obstacle, and not feeling up to it after a late-night out, decided that the porter would do a better job.

The check-in area was a riot. From experience, I immediately checked for the coolest spots, in front of air-conditioners. Each comfortable square feet was taken, but the spot near the ensaymada stall, just beside the entrance to the pre-departure area, was, by some miracle, open.

While singing ''Let It Snow,'' (which I often sing to cool down), I arranged my box of books and bag and sat on the box, leaning on the wall. Stretching my legs, I surveyed the area for some envious eyes but found none. As soon as passengers lined up to enter the pre-departure area, I realized why.

I must have either been invisible to those too busy to think of anything other than getting in there, or amusing. A little girl, hanging on to her mother's pants, checked me out. I stared back at her with the message, ''Yes, I am a primate, but it's not what you think, kiddo.'' To camouflage my situation, I opened Gabriel Garcia Marquez's ''Strange Pilgrims'' and was immediately taken to another place and time.

I would surface from time to time, to stretch my neck and observe people's faces and conversations. I took pictures in my mind, wishing I brought a camera. I decided to have a contest. A young man sat on the check-in counter (yes, on the ledge of the counter) of PAL, right hand holding his head, elbow resting on his right knee. He wore light cotton pants and sandals. Beside him there was a bottle of water, and a plastic bag. He won first place. Drag the gold ribbon and click, pin it on his knee.

A male overseas worker, in denim jacket, checked in his nine huge boxes from Saudi. He worked in a desalinization plant of an oil refinery, he said, ''sa takas (on the shore).'' He won second place. Click the ribbon on the box as he drags it to the complaining weighing scale.

A man lined up to enter the pre-departure area with a Winnie the Pooh about 4 ft tall, hugging it close to his chest. He must really love his kid, probably a little girl. Third place, for the sake of the little girl. Click the ribbon on Pooh's tummy.

And now, the winners for the best dialogue. A security guard approached a woman who looked anxious, saying, ''Sorry ma'am, sarado na po talaga.'' ''Ano? Hindi pwede 'yan, kanina pa ako rito, one hour before, hindi naman international flight ito na two hours before.'' (Raising her voice) ''Idedemanda ko 'yang Air Philippines na 'yan.'' ''Hindi ako aalis dito kung hindi n'yo ako itse-check in!''

Another passenger: (whispers) ''Huwag kayong magbiro ng ganyan ma'am, maraming abogado rito.'' First place.

A passenger wants an aisle seat, exit row. Air Philippines guy named Jomel Gonzaga: ''Yes ma'am, we have an exit seat, pero window na lang.'' Passenger: ''Wala na ba talagang aisle?'' Jomel (smiling): ''Mas maganda ang sa window ma'am, mahangin.'' Second place.

Having enjoyed these people's company, at 3:15 I entered the pre-departure area, quite pleased with myself. I found a seat behind a young woman who looked more European than Filipina, who was with her two little boys. They were going to Cebu. The name tag on the stroller says those boys should be tightly guarded. The mother played with her younger son, offering him milk. ''Busog na?'' she said. She wins the Centennial award.

And now, for the ''kalabasa'' award. Airline personnel on the speaker: ''Cebu Pacific flight will be delayed due to the late arrival of turn-around aircraft. In behalf of Cebu Pacific, we apologize for the inconvenience.''

I was at the airport at one o'clock. My Air Philippines plane arrived Bacolod at past eight. My box didn't have a baggage tag on. The security guard asked for my ticket in Tagalog before letting me pass. Taxi drivers, calling me by name, offered me a ride. A mob was blocking the exit. I carried my box, and surveying the obstacle, took a deep breath and got out of there.