Worms and fishes
The advantage of living in the province is your surroundings can provide everything you want as a kid. Take fishing for example; we can make fishing rods out of bamboo sticks and knitting thread.
I never knew how commercial rods work. They seem too complicated with all the technology involved. And completely unnecessary. But then I never fished outside our village river, fish ponds and the occasional frogs in farms during rainy season. So what do I know?
And guess what we use as baits? Those good, old fat wriggly worms that must have been so tasty to the fishes. The rich farming soil provides the big tasty worms, the river provide the fishes, bamboos all around provide the fish poles, hooks from excess clothesline and grandma for the thread. Life is perfect!
One Sunday my cousin and I decided to fish. At dawn we were starting to dig up some worms. That day, with drizzling rain, worms were exceptionally fat and easy to find. You just pull out a big group of grass roots and they they are, still undecided which end is their tail and which one is the head. Sometimes I can’t believe how long they are. We even argue that some are snakes. Sometimes we are stupid.
We used an old sardine can to hold the worms. And when it was about full, we headed to the river banks where all the others are already fishing. Some of them asked us for worms which readily handed out without second thoughts. We were praised on how big our worms were. We just shrugged as if it is the easiest thing in the world to catch big fat worms.
Big worms are always better when it’s time to skewer the worm in the hook. I always thought it was cruel. But between crawling in dirt and serving as baits, I thought they were better off.
All set, we started fishing. Before we caught any fish, I clumsily elbowed the tin can that it spilled the worms and they rolled down towards the river. Nobody but my cousin saw it. He gave me an angry look and walked away to transfer to another fishing site far away from me.
At that moment, I knew he was justified with his anger. Although thinking about it now, I am not sure what he is angry about. Definitely not about the worms because I can easily run and get another batch. Is it because I was so clumsy? Or did I break his mojo and spilled worms is bad omen? Maybe it was the big roll of worm will feed a lot of fish and they will become full and disinterested with other meager baits.
I really didn’t know. He was so angry that he didn’t talk to me for the whole day. But as it is with kids, we were back as best buds the morning after. Life is great again!
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Tags: childhood memories, fishing, friendship, worms
There are many realizations that come to you when you are out of work. Many of you may have experienced this for a month or two. But try five months! And I’ll bet you will have different or magnified opinions of your original ones. Well, here are mine:
1. It’s fun! If you can just get past the idea that being out of work is bad, you can actually see the opportunities. Remember back when you were working and you dreamed of vacations, travelling, getting more sleep, not minding being drunk and simply have the time to be alone and be idle. Now you can do them all! You can watch movies until your eyes pop or rediscover old TV series and point at the younger versions of the famous stars today. You can do anything you want not minding what time you have to wake up tomorrow. Learn how to cook, type faster or play a musical instrument. Try growing your hair, moustache, beard and all body hairs applicable. You can also talk to your parents; you have the time so why not catch up. You can actually say yes every time somebody asks you if you are free for lunch, dinner, weekend, drinking, travelling, help a friend change tires, go to fiestas, sample their cooking or pick a wardrobe. A retiree’s life is not so boring after all.
2. You can practice being the best son, friend or boyfriend. Time. Time is what you have that other working people don’t have. Thus, it is the perfect opportunity to pay a little bit of attention to your loved ones. Give more thought on your anniversary gift for your parents making sure they will really love it. Cook for your girlfriend or boyfriend complete from appetizer to dessert. Clean out your wardrobe and closet to pass on unused items to your siblings or cousins. Really listen your friend’s ranting. Offer to drive for your busy friends. Give matchmaking another try. Of course, you can all do this when you’re working but just imagine how much better you can do it if you have the time.
3. Some young, inexperienced and barely out school HR people hold your fate in their overworked hands. Imagine my heartbreak when after being interviewed by these people they don’t call back again because they deem me as “unsuitable for the position.” I start to question if their four years in college is enough to profile applicants for a position which is way above their pay grade. Sometimes these young people are out there to prove themselves worthy that they seem to be much more difficult to please that their bosses.
4. You learn how to wait. You wait half days in a government offices, four hours for an interview, two hours for a medical check and weeks and weeks for a call back. Ever heard of a recruitment officer who calls 20 applicants for interview and schedule them all at 8am? Oh they are the worst! Sheesh, whoever said patience is a virtue never tried applying for work. You come there looking as fresh and composed as possible only to be at your wits end by the time you are called. On the other hand, you have fellow applicants. You can talk to them and learn about everything – their work experiences, families and deepest darkest secrets. After 30 minutes of waiting, you will have one thing in common – boredom and irritation. What a great way to start a conversation!
5. Discover your own philosophies. Again, this is only a matter of having time. You have time to watch the news, hear commentaries that you actually have a more informed opinion of political issues rather than taking the side of you friend who is really into this stuff. Affirm that you really like bread heated in the microwave rather than the toaster, sneakers rather than boots, jazz over R&B, cheese over mayo, short hair over long hair, sexy body over pretty face, Rolling Stones over Led Zeppelin, Smart over Globe etc. Hmm, maybe philosophers have way too much idle time!
6. Government offices really, really suck at service. Social Service, Internal Revenue, Bureau of Investigation, all of them. Unfortunately you have to go to these agencies for your pre employment requirements. And all of those fat, lazy and comfortable employees with condescending attitudes surprisingly have way too much power over you. You piss them off your doomed. You react a second late and they look at you like you are the village idiot. And they themselves move in deliberately slow manner like the world revolves around them. I will bet everything that these eight to five workers will not last a week in a real, efficient company. I also wonder why these agencies put up signs like “don’t deal with fixers” or “report fixers” when in fact it is so easy to spot them and point the employees they are in cahoots with. Are these advertisements that there are actually fixers who can do the job than faster with less hassle?
7. You learn to prepare and repeat your answer to the questions “where are you working” and “are you working already?” Yeah. Believe it. These are your conversation openers. You get to formulate different answers, choose the best one you like and record it. Or, for a more colourful life, challenge yourself to come up with a different answer every time. My answers are “I am trying to be like artists, jobless but cool” and “still looking for a hot sugar momma.”
8. You can get away with a number of things just by being unemployed. Well, you’ve got friends, you have to work them. Come to potluck parties without bringing anything, free dinner, free movies, free dates, free laptop from dad. Hey, you are unemployed, enjoy life! Oh, I am afraid payback is gonna be a real bitch.
9. Being single is best. No family to worry about. No kids asking for allowances. No headache from a nagging wife to find work or accept the next best thing. What can I say? Being out of work is not an option for family men. Not the poor ones at the least.
10. You can plan for an unplanned day. What to do tomorrow? Heck, what do I care? You can plan to go to Quiapo, Binondo or Divisoria (or all them in a day) and that’s it. No schedule, no time limitations, no alarm clocks! Just get up, eat, leave when you feel like and come back whenever. Did I mention no alarm clocks? They are one of my most hated when I was working. I can’t even relax on a Sunday because your body seem to wait for it until you realize it is a weekend.
There are actually lots more, good and bad, but these are the real winners for me.
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Tags: fun things, jobless, things to do
The 21K experience!
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- worth all the sweat!
Just yesterday, I ran the 21 kilometer category of Milo Marathon. Some people may say it is easy, but for me, it was very difficult for a number of reasons. First, I am lugging around an excess bodyweight of 20 lbs. Second, my usual running buddies are not there with me because they have company-related engagements. Not that they make running easier but the mind is more at ease when you know you have friends somewhere near. Third, although I am very happy with my new shoes, the fact is that they are new and maybe not suitable yet for long running having been used for a cumulative running of only 18 kilometers previously. And last, it was my first time to run 21 kilometers!
It was 5:30 in the morning when the race started. I was almost late, arriving in line as the countdown from ten started. I was probably the last one to start in our category because I had to re-tie my laces. Anyway, long runs are not about explosive starts.
I was feeling good on the first stages. I knew that if I had to finish the race it was just from sheer will, having practiced ten kilometer runs on in the past weeks. For the first seven kilometres I was doing OK. When I was approaching the ninth my feet were already screaming for a walk. But I just kept on, smiling at everybody. By the 11th I have reached my practice limits, I didn’t want to stop but the temptation of a leisurely water break was just too much to pass up. So from there, it became my routine. Run, stop for a brisk walk in water stations, count 20 with deep breaths, and then run again. This sustained me up to the 20k mark where I think I walked for a full two minutes before running to the finish line.
The feeling towards the end was a bit anti-climactic. Since there where so many participants in the 3K, 5K and 10K, there were all finished way ahead of us and you can see them walking around place. For them the race was over for quite some time. Less than half can be found in the finish line. And usually when I finish the race, one of my buddies who is a photo addict would’ve have been taking pictures of us like crazy by this time. Since I am alone, I just asked somebody to take a picture of me near the finish line as a souvenir or proof. But well, I’ve wanted and waited for this. I am just happy.
Memories of previous running all comes flooding back – burning lungs on the very first 5K races, self embarrassment when kids, old men and even old ladies pass you in 10K races, and the endurance testing 16k race I ran two months before. So while my 2 hours and 35 minutes unofficial time did not make it to the eliminations of the race, I am just equally happy to finish it.
Boy oh boy, the rush of finishing the race it unexplainable. Writing this feeling the hurt of knees, chaffing and blisters makes it all worthwhile! Next up, 42K!!
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Tags: 21k race, Getting Wet, run, running, sweating
You would think that a man’s personality is so hard to understand. You can spend time with him, talk with him meet his friends and family. But is it really difficult?
Personally I want to describe myself as spontaneous, interesting and some one you will enjoy getting to know in time.
My father told me when I first started to work that I should save. He said that even how littke my salary was, I should start saving. And that the amount of salary should not constrain you from saving. That saving is a matter of choice, not a matter of how much you make. Of course I think it was his way of still gently controlling my life. But six years later, he is, not surprisingly, right.
My father is known from family circles as a very stingy person. I remember telling him that even at school expenses it was never easy to ask him for money. Money for books and school field trips are like battles to be earned. And in that aspect, I was a seasoned veteran before I graduated college. But my father’s stinginess is not at all bad. The negative aspect only comes from those people who are deep in debt, no money saved from emergencies and can never invest in something without taking out a loan. When crises comes my father is always set monetary wise. An enviable trait. Bit one that makes nobody popular. Every practice of being financially prudent is not a good way to live. Trust me, it is no fun to be raised that way.
After I started working, my father still asks me if I have a savings. And as you have guessed it right, I don’t. Every year my salary climbed up until up to a point that I earn more than my father. But still, no savings. You really have to admire my old man for having sent three kids through college, build two houses, buy a car with that much of a salary. Of course my mother helped, but really, it was my father’s not so endearing qualities are what managed to get us all of those things.
I feel ashamed to think that with my salary, without any family responsibility, only managed to get me by. Sometimes, I still need the help of credit cards. My father told me that I just work to feed my toilet bowl. Funny how he phrased it but looking at my credit card purchases, he is always, dead on.
My Credit card items
- Supermarket
- Restaurant
- Supermarket
- Shoes
- Supermarket
- Drinking bar
- Restaurant
- Socks
- Bookstore
10. Supermarket
11. Coffee shop
Ok so there are other non food items. But apart from the shoes, more than 90% of my monthly bill ends up in food purchases. Food that end up in crap.
So really, if you saw my credit card bill and you try to make guess my personality, it is not really hard to do. A person who lives his life around food. Of course if you tell this to my face you and I will have a serious problem. I will tell you that I am thinking, interesting person. But this moment, I am humble enough to admit. If I don’t change the habit, I will never like my future self.
This does not end up with all the whining. I just needed to admit these facts to accept a challenge to myself that in the near future, I dedicate a sizable portion of my earnings to:
- Savings
- Buying a house
- Buying a car
Whoa!! Goodluck with all that!
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Tags: credit card, food, food addict, realities
Writing my name
I remember the first time I tried to write my name. It was frustrating and a great memory at the same time.
Well, the situation started because at that time, I did not have somebody to take care of me at home. And my parents, being both teachers tried to take me with them in their school. I remember having an allowance also, one peso. All I bought was a piece of sweet bread for 50 centavos. Then gave back the change to my mother. I was pretty good huh? But then I was four, what do you expect?
I sat with the first grade students. I was their baby brother. I listened to their lectures and took their exams – when it suited me of course. Their first ranked student took me under her wing. Tutored me in some of the lessons. She was a big girl, bigger than most boys her age. I wonder if she was not overaged.
Anyway, when it came to writing time, I was way behind the first graders. It was my first time after all and I never attempted writing beyond doodling. My first task was to learn how to write my name. Looking at it now, writing is just a matter of controlling your fingers to sketch what you want. Back then it was not very easy. First I needed to write the letter S. Capital S, small s. Repeat for the whole page. Then do another page. Until your hand hurts.
I always thought I do good work. But writing my name, even I admit that the output was not a good sight. My teacher told me that they looked like unruly and ugly worms. And no two worms were the same.
But since everybody was three years older than I was, I always get praised for effort. Or maybe those stinky first graders were glad they had some less stellar performer in class so none of them could take to slow learner award. Good thing my big girl saviour made her personal work to tutor me. In writing and other lessons. I wonder where she is now. I can’t even remember her name.
Eventually my writing became a bit legible. Until I can write my whole name in all of the ssix lines of my grade school paper in a matter of minutes.
Shawn Kelvin G. Pamintuan
Shawn Kelvin G. Pamintuan
Shawn Kelvin G. Pamintuan
Shawn Kelvin G. Pamintuan
Shawn Kelvin G. Pamintuan
Shawn Kelvin G. Pamintuan
One morning I forgot to make my homework. I just remembered a few minutes before leaving for school. They I told my mom that I can write my name six times in less time my father can finish combing his hair. Such a braggart kid! To think my father took fewer than ten swipes to finish combing his hair. I didn’t finish before he did but shortly after. So much for bragging.
Next thing I remember is the series of complaint that my name was too long for the paper. Fitting them in a single line was a challenge. All of those big fat 21 letters, four spaces and a period. At first I used two spaces. But then all of my classmates were using single lines. Screw them and their short ugly names! So I had to follow. I start writing my name in my regular sized letters and as I approach the end of the line the letters become smaller and thinner. But that way my name fits in a single line. Classic, haha!
I never understood the need of writing in cursive. But of course being a student, you cannot complain. So when I was eight, and in real second grade, I began to learn writing in cursive. Again I felt frustrated in having a longer name. And the cursive writing was not pretty. My S looked like a duck, my capital G reminded me of a ship’s sail and my P looked more like an S. Why do we have to be subjected to such hardships? To think now I write more using a keyboard than a pen. And my penmanship is still a mess.
One day my father told me how I got my name. He showed me a book he bought from a booksale. My name came from a short story written by Maurice Walsh entitled “The Quiet Man.” The lead charcter’s name was Shawn, his last name was Kelvin. The first time I read it, I just vaguely got the plot. But I read it again and again and asked my father to explain it to me. After that I fancied to be like the lead character, Shawn Kelvin, the last of the Kelvins. A quiet man who avoids confrontation. But when it came to a point for him to either loose his wife or fight, he ends up beating a bully almost twice his size and weight.
As much as I fancy myself being a quite, mysterious man who has a nice story to back up his fighting prowess, and use it and act as a knight in a shining armour for her damsel in distress, it is just not me. I am quite the opposite. So thank you Maurice Walsh for the name. It is nice to know that there are to Shawn Kelvins with conflicting personalities.
We lost the book which contains the story and all of my father’s book collections when a big flood came through out town. I thought I will never read the story again as an adult. My girlfriend knows the story of my name. In 2004 she found the short story in the internet. It was one of the most pleasant surprises for me. I read the story a number of times back then.
Recently, I tried to learn more about it. I found the story, written in 1930s. Here is a link:
http://www.apex.net.au/~mhumphry/QManSEP.html
What is more surprising was that the story was adapted into a movie in 1953 which starred John Wayne. I know better than to compare myself with John Wayne but I enjoyed the movie more than I expected in an old film.
Well. My name got a nice history don’t you think?
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Tags: childhood memories, name, name origin
There are so many things that I would like to do. One day I come across an activity that I really want to try, or see a very interesting place on TV and it gets my heart pumping, but then I don’t really think or plan things to do them. The next time I encounter them I want to try them again and feel bad that I let the first time just pass without doing anything.
Below, I will list the things I want to do. First, just to have the list of reference and then work on crossing out the items and updating the list (adding more) as time passes. I hope I can cross out an item or two every month. The list is also arranged by order in a way that the first items I think are achievable the soonest.
Things I would like to do:
- Start a blog
- Shooting a gun in a firing range
- Cook complicated food!
- Collect marathon shirts
- Run 20k
- Take diving lessons
- Be licensed diver
- Do 100 push ups continuously
- Surprise old friends (those whom I had zero contact in a long time) by calling them up just to catch up
- Climb Mt. Apo
- Have a kickass job!
- Buy a digital SLR
- Say hello to the Butandings J
- Setup a drinking schedule / routine with friends
- Buy many new books at one time without feeling guilty about the price
- Lose 20lbs
- Learn a new language
- Run 42k
- Compete in Ironman Philippines
- Skydiving
- Mountain climbing outside the country
- Buy 4×4 car
- Have my own place
Things I want to do again (because they are just so much fun!)
- Ice skating
- Go wall climbing
- White water rafting
- Shopping in Bangkok
Filed under: Getting Wet | 1 Comment
Tags: wishlist
Tom, Huck and my own adventures
Everybody who have read the The Adventures of Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer would have probably wished they where living their lives. I am one of those kids. I wished I was as intelligent as Tom and as resourceful. I wished I was less observant of rules and can bend orders from growm ups at will. I wished I had the ability to plan grand trips involving friends and make them work for me. I wished a was a good leader with followers who will obey me even if it is forbidden. I wished I had Huck’s unlimited time, freedom and the ability to entertain myself with all the things going around. I wished I did not have parent to order me around and put all the restrictions on me. I wish I knew how to fish using sticks, sleep in a treehouse and not worry about taking a bath or brushing my teeth.
One of my most memorable memories of them was taking a trip downriver using a raft. The idea of the of taking control of our life and doings things as you think of them is just what any boy would want. To captain a raft, eat fruits from nearby trees, fish and cook them over fire. So carefree, so full of adventures.
Looking back, my life seemed dull compared to them. But then, I think I was focusing more on the frustrations. Come to think of it, there wasn’t much things that Tom and Huck did that I did not do.
I remember one day, I was with my cousin. This was the time when we had to live with my grandparents because our hometown was in danger of a volcanic eruption nearby. We were bathing in the rain. My grandparents place was a lower region in the village and it is flooded during rainy season. I remember using a raft we borrowed (without permission) and rafting towards the farther side of the village. That side was famous for harvesting snails that can be cooked with coconut milk.
Yes we managed to reach the end of the village with our “borrowed” raft. We got a few snails but over the our trip back, we lost them all because we do not have any container to put them in. All this lasted three or four hours while heavy rain was pouring down. We were exhausted for the all the activities of swimming and using a pole to guide the raft.
Of course we didn’t tell out parents where we were going. And as expected I didn’t event think about it we were near home. I trudged my way back dreading the consequences. Will I have to endure shouting, welts on butt or any number of punishments that my father seem to have a knack of inventing?
Upon, arriving, I was confronted by my father and he made me tell my story. He made me tell him all of the things I did wrong urging me with his authoritative “and?!” with every word I said. My fear kept me saying things, even those I did not do that day for the fear of facing his controlled wrath if I did not follow his “and?” monolougue with a another word.
I never felft any physical punishment that day but I clearly remember my father asking to go to my mother, say sorry and to never to do that again. It maybe a light punishment but I never forgot the shame I felt while I saying that one sentence. “I am sorry, I will never do it again” complete with tears. Maybe it was because I saw the worried look on my mother who never spoke a word and just noded. The told me to take bath afterwards.
Back to the adventures, I had my own adventure that Tom and Huck will envy. I bet they never built sandcastles anyday they want. Or took a slide in the water control dam with their bikes. I bet they never used freworks to shoo away birds from the rice plantation. I bet they never made money picking up flowers and selling them to the neighbours.
If I can just remember more, I am sure I will have lots of adventures to tell.
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Tags: adventures, childhood memo
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