:Six Feet Under… and then some.

“A country isn’t wood, stone, and concrete… A country is its people.”

I met Dave Somner on my last evening in Boracay.  Interesting fellow – Ex-Royal Navy, with various ports of call like the Middle East, Thailand, Taiwan, and Hong Kong among other places.  Went diving in places like the Red Sea and the Maldives.  And then he chose to live here for twenty years…
A testament to the beauty of the Philippines?
I’m sorry, but its not.  After twenty years here, Dave is trying desperately to find a way to get back to Great Britain.  The English bakery he helped build is kicking him out, his wife ran off with another man, and other job prospects seem to just fade away.  Some American was hiring him to baby-sit his sailboat through the Panama canal, across the Pacific, and on towards Boracay.  Unfortunately, one of the biggest hurricanes to hit the southeastern coast of the US (I wonder which…) came last year, and Dave hasn’t heard from the American since.
When I met him, it was at this café where all he had was some spare change in his wallet, and a picture of a sailboat he made with his own hands (the boat – not the picture, silly).  He was looking for the owner of the place because he wanted to sell it just so that he could have some money to get home.

Ah, Davey, Davey, Davey…

If you ever run into him if you visit Boracay, tell him I said hello.  And maybe treat him to a beer.  I’m sure he could regale you for hours with his (mis)adventures here in Southeast Asia.

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Its been a week since I arrived from a 4 day break from studying, and since then, not much has changed.  I still have three more topics to tackle - biochem, pathology, and pharma – none of which I particularly like.  As of this writing, in spite of several garbage bags of “memorabilia”, as well as actively giving things away, my room still looks like a war zone.

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The cat gave birth to four more kittens this week.  These will be my MLE Step 1 kittens.  I don’t know where my yellow Med-boards kitten went, and my black-and-white Step 2 kitten is being ignored enough that I think it’s ready to leave the yard for good.  Considering that every time I reviewed for a major exam, there’ve been kittens,  I hope these four kittens bring me luck. 

Oh, in case you were wondering why they don’t have names, it’s because all these cats are strays.  They just camp here because we keep leaving water and Whiskas out for them.

Why couldn’t it have been puppies instead?

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Location:  Boracay Island

Time:       1558H

Weather:  Sunny

4 days and 3 nights here in Boracay, and I deem it fit to go to an internet place.  As commercialization goes, its not as bad as I thought…

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The fun of the trip was dampened by the news of the demise of one of my favorite interns during my clerkship in UERM.  Jerome, your pictures on your site are those of winter time.  You are now your own snow angel.  May you always have clear skies and sunnier shores wherever you are right now.

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Its amazing how video technology has advanced over the span of half a lifetime.   These days, the only issues one has (aside from the ethical compunctions of piracy) are whether or not you’re getting a DVD copy or just a “clear” copy.  Back in the day, you wouldn’t hear people yelling on the side “VHS! VHS! VHS!”  Nope, tapes were expensive back then, so bootleg copies were only to be had at the local video rental place.

Aside from the miracle of DVDs, many people take cable TV for granted these days.  I on the other hand remember the heady days of antennas.  I remember when I would go up onto the roof, map and compass in hand trying to orient the UHF antenna toward Clark AFB just to get better reception on FEN.  Just to watch Saturday Night Live.  Yup, still remember the coordinates from here… approximately 90 km away at 320 degrees NNW. 
In spite of such scientific technique, nothing could beat the two-man approach:

      (Slowly rotating the antenna on the roof)
     “Hey bro, how’s the reception now!?!” 

     “It’s good…no wait, back! Back! BACK!!!”
 
If you have to ask what FEN was, then you were probably too young to even remember such archaic devices as the Commodore 64 or the Atari.   But back when TV was limited to just 6 channels, having FEN was worth the risk of walking on a wet roof or under the scorching sun.  Yep, it sure was.

Damn that stupid volcano.

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My mom decided to renovate the house.  The process calls for major spring cleaning, a process that once again reinforced a notion I have about myself:

I’m an incurable pack rat. 

You never know when something might become useful again.

Nine years of being a weekend-son (i.e. coming home only once a week from the dorm/apartment) meant that in some way, the house, and more specifically the room I shared with my brother, has been viewed somewhat as a repository for things that I didn’t need, but couldn’t bring myself to throw away.  When I was in med school and lived in an apartment by myself, I always said that if the stuff I hoarded away magically disappeared, I wouldn’t mind so much.  Out of sight, out of mind.  But now, confronted with the need to be the one to chuck it, my old reluctance to throw them away resurfaces. Another suppressed realization:

I am also a sentimental old bastard.

A little rational thought, coupled with the fact that movement through the now-displaced-trash was severely limited, has led me to wonder why I still have the following:

A. Various papers:

     1. Receipts (gas, groceries, utilities, restaurants) all the way back to 1999.
     2. Discharge summaries.  For goodness sake, I have my license already.  I   doubt my alma mater could reach out and say Hey, you haven’t passed this DS, we can’t clear you…
     3. Piles of hand-outs from both med school AND college, never read, waiting for the time I actually read them, which I have decided will be never.
     4. I have more than the odd blue book to discard.  Who cares about a witty essay I wrote in college?  No really, who?  Blue books to good homes.  Any takers?
     5. Odds and ends that remind me of days past, like old planners (why would I want to remember what day I took my 3rd exam in FS-16)

B. Electronics

     1. Includes two car stereos, various amplifiers, a boom box, and a 21" television/VHS player.  Several busted lamps.  Transformers.  A busted electric stove.

     2. Computer parts: (why would I want to keep the motherboard of an 8088?)  Actually there are several: 8088, 80286, 80386, 80486SX, DX, a Pentium - basically the history of computer development of the last 20 years.  2 paper white monitors, 3 busted color monitors, several casings, and daughter boards (modems, video cards, audio cards)… basta, you get the picture.

C. Car parts:  Goodness knows I might need the busted spark plugs or the worn out bushings of a car I no longer had.  Or cut up tubings, worn out wiper blades, 3 alloy mags (where the 4th went is anyone’s guess) - but then, most of these are in that other bastion of junk - the garage cabinet, so I’m digressing here…

D. Military paraphernalia (I keep anything camouflage):  This includes various uniforms that I have worn.  Lots of worn out jungle packs.  Canteens, mess kits, camo paint, carabiners..

E. Clothes:  I’ve got stuff from the late 80s and early 90s.  Hell, even if they fit, why would I want that?  I’m no fashion guru (understatement) but jeez, the 80s?

F. Med stuff:  Busted sphygmos, half-used plaster of paris, vials and tons of expired meds (diazepam, anyone), individual pieces of OS still wrapped up in its autoclaved brown paper wrapping (hey it’s still sterile, I think), old surgical stuff. 

G. Knick-knacks - somewhat akin to the free toys you get free with junk food.  Speaking of junk, I’ve got a lot of that too.  The cushion from my bed in my apartment, broken glasses, old batteries, old and new cat bones, mismatched rubber bands, paper clips.  Rocks.  Goodness gracious, rocks. What the heck…

H. Still a lot more junk, both in and outside the house…  Somewhere in the garage, I have half a pickled brain swimming in formaldehyde.  No, its not from my med school.  I’ve had it from before that pa…

The clean up did have its happy moments .  I found my Welch Allyn otoscope (oh, yahoo).

All this junk.  A little resolution is all I need.  Its time to clean up my act.  Open my life to new things.  Its time to go cave-man on those things and so now, my objectives include throwing/giving away more than 90% of it all.

I think I can do it

But I’ll still keep the military paraphernalia.  And maybe several other knick knacks…

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PS: If you seem interested in any of the aforementioned pieces of junk, let me know. 

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"MASKS DOWN! MASKS DOWN!”

One could misconstrue this as someone over-reacting to someone dropping masks. Otherwise, it could be taken as a signal to, well, put your masks on… ______________________

I spent Sunday at the old Rizal Provincial Jail, getting shot at while trying to keep up with my team leader. It started inauspiciously enough though. If you’ve ever been chewed out (even slightly) by a brigadier general, you’ll know what I mean. After arriving at my friend Noel’s house to pick him up, his father asked me if I was “provisionary” after seeing me dressed up in BDU pants and combat boots. Then he goes on about how the wearing of camouflage by civilians was against the regulations. Now I’m actually a law abiding citizen, so after all that, when we were already in the Pasig area, I didn’t even want to get out of the car anymore:

     "Dude, your dad just killed it for me”

     "Its okay, mukha ka namang tricycle driver lang eh”

That kinda didn’t help a whole lot.

Upon entry into the jail however, it was a different story. All around were (mostly) grown men and women, dressed in various types of camouflage, toting replica firearms. I don’t like to admit this, but I actually felt somewhat at home. At the very least, at least I wasn’t sticking out.

It wasn’t as regimentalized as I expected. It was rolly-polly-anything-goes, just like some ragtag army. When you have some ten year old kids dressed in black, with padding and an overly large helmet nesting on their head (they looked like oversized bowling-ball pins), and you see them running, nay, bobbing along, well you realize that for some, it’s a family affair. There are people who like to take it to the next level though. As Noel pointed out, there was this one guy kitted out in the garb of the USMC Expeditionary Force, complete with headset, nomex gloves, and (would you believe it?) the little plastic thingies that they use to tie terrorists wrists together. Sorta made you wonder who the heck he was talking to with his headset. So weird. Inggit naman ako.

As first-times go, it was over way to quickly. I was never a camper. Even back in the good old CS days, my brother Anton and I were always first to fight. Assault, assault, assault. I guess (some) skill on the computer definitely does not translate to real world conditions. The spirit was willing, but apparently the flesh was not quite up to scratch. Over the course of several skirmishes, the one major thing I learned about myself is that I need to do a little bit more cardio. Nix that… I need to just plain exercise more. Hats off to the real men and women in uniform who do this day in and day out.

And what do I have to show for it? Aching legs, and welts on my arm that look like big, bad mosquito bites.

Two weeks from now. Once more into the fray.

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