A few months ago, I made a list of unconventional things for me to do before I turn 3 decades old. It was fittingly named the "Before 30 Bucket List", which is a collection of tasks for me to accomplish little by little in the months leading to my birthday this year. This list is not yet final as I plan to add more things, and right now there are 4 bullets. I'll give you a sneak peek of the first three; at the very top of the list is to get a tattoo. I came from a traditionally conservative family in rural Luzon, and having tattoos never ran in our family. During my childhood, tattoos are seen as a symbol of the streets: people with tattoos are perceived as dangerous, rebellious, and unprofessional. Decades of Filipino movies depicting stereotypical criminal bosses and grunts as those who constantly smoke, holding guns, and have lots of tattoos further progressed the stigma against being inked. Movies with prisoners also being laden with ink also contributes to this perception. This line of thinking was partly a product of our Americanization and our continuous adoption of Western standards. Come to think of it, perception of tattoos vary widely depending on where you are. In many tribal and ethnic cultures around the world, tattoos symbolize bravery, courage, victory, and fertility, among other things. The Butbut tribe of Kalinga, Philippines is one example; the infamous Apo Whang-Od is pat of that tribe, and she is well-known as the last mambabatok or tribal tattoo artist. Their tribe used to celebrate and mark successful headhunts with tattoos! People in the tribe with lots of tattoos are their skilled warriors, and their ink represents their bravery and success. I'll explore this fascinating topic further in the future, but for now, I digress. So, why did I get a tattoo? The short answer is, I'm being rebellious. All my life I had been forcing myself to adhere to rules, to bend my personality according to what is deemed "proper". I was the rule-follower, the one who does things by the books, the stereotypical good kid. I was afraid to make mistakes, to be judged, to be labelled an outcast; this tattoo is a physical symbol of me breaking free from this old shell. I got a minimalist betta fish tattoo! The betta fish, also known as the Siamese fighting fish (Betta splendens), is a common ornamental freshwater fish that exits in different forms and colors. Regardless of the color, betta fish are known to be brave, aggressive, and vicious. You cannot place two male bettas in the same tank because they will fight until only one remains (hence the nickname fighting fish). Even placing one male and one female betta in the same tank will not bode well, as they will still fight with each other after mating. The male betta also cares for the eggs in a bubble nest that he constantly maintains until they hatch; this level of parental care is not seen in all fish species. I know these because I used to breed bettas! This is another story for another time.
The symbolism for me is straightforward: fighting fish are elegant but brave; graceful but unyielding; alone but stoic. We can be brave and soft at the same time. The fish has a convex arch to remind me to smile, and there is no bilateral symmetry as a symbol of imperfection, and that it's okay to be imperfect. This fighting fish will continue to fight, no matter what. This is a permanent reminder for me to fight and strive, to smile, and to love my flaws. This will not be my last tattoo. The avenue for self-expression is limitless. I might have an entire zoo in my arm! Before 30 Bucket List item 1 is finally checked; looking forward to the completion of the other bullets. Thanks to RAD Tattoo Siargao for a great first time experience. When I was 8 years old, I rode a worn-out bicycle from the top of a steep hill right by our cow pastures in Capas, Tarlac. I was probably thinking that I can experience the thrill of cool farm air rushing through my body, cooling off sweat produced by adrenaline, in the most epic bicycle stunt ever done by a 8-year old, as I am about to speed down a freaking mini-mountain. I was wrong and I crashed midway through the hill, and me and my bike kept rolling down the rest of the way. How I have not broken a single bone still baffles me. With both knees shaking, I tried to gingerly stand up, only to realize that the bike's sprocket (the circle with teeth that drives the bike's chain) has stabbed my right calf muscle pretty deep. I still have the scar to this day to remember the incident. I stayed away from bicycles ever since. When I was 10 years old, the first time I drove a motorcycle, I crashed and injured myself. I was being taught by my father to drive a small scooter motorcycle, but since I don't have a license to drive, my family is in a car right behind me as I drove from my father's mechanical workshop to our house at the end of the day (relax, it was a small town in rural Luzon with very little traffic in the early 2000's). It was around 5:30 pm, right at the sweet spot of the sunset where it is starting to get dark. I was a quarter of the way through when we passed our local cemetery and the side of the road was not paved yet; it was just a dirt road with lots of rocks. Being a skinny 10-year old kid, I guess I didn't have the strength to steer the motorcycle in the face of rocks scattered by the roadside. Why I didn't drive on the paved main road still baffles me. Soon, there was this rock that made me lose my balance and me and the scooter went tumbling several feet and I sustained a lot of scratches and bruises (no broken bones FTW!). With both knees shaking, I tried to stand up, and lucky for me, my family picked me up and the scooter and I got to compose myself on the car ride the rest of the way. I stayed away from driving motorcycles ever since. Fast forward all these years and I didn't even dare drive motorcycles, even if having one would greatly ease my commute from home to work. Other people dream of owning big bikes and go racing down some roads, with the roar of the engine fueling their adrenaline. My brothers regularly drove motorcycles around our town. For me, the thought of ever driving one made me queasy and the pain of crashing comes back to memory. My father's several motorcycle-related accidents made it tougher for me to even try again. The advent of social media where people can share videos of motorcycle accidents made things worse. The death of one of my uncles from a motorcycle accident was the final straw for me - I was fine not ever being able to drive a motorcycle. I can ride one as a passenger just fine (ride-hailing), but not as the driver, ever responsible for myself and a passenger. So, it was a surprise to myself that one lazy afternoon in Siargao, I'd get to revisit this trauma as I dig though my bottomless trauma collection. In a bit of a spontaneous itch, I asked the manager of our homestay if she knows anyone local that can let me rent their motorcycle. My heart raced as I mentioned my request; my mind was shouting WTF to my mouth, but there was no turning back. There were only two outcomes after that: first, no motorcycle is available and I'd get an easy bailout, and I can say that at least I tried; second, a motorcycle is available for rent, and I'd have to conquer a trauma on the spot. Best believe that I was hoping for the easy way out; at least I can chicken out and I can avoid accidents, and I'll just try again some other day, after rigorous preparations. By now you can guess that the second option happened. The manager called one of the cooks in the kitchen, and the cook spent around 5 minutes going door-to-door in the neighboring houses to ask for a motorcycle to be rented. After a couple of tries, she soon rode the motorcycle towards me and my heart started racing faster. My first couple of thoughts: oh dear God do I even know how to start this motorcycle? How the F do you open the seat and access the fuel tank? What in the world were you thinking in the first place, asking for a damn motorcycle!? I tried to stay calm and composed, smiling and thanking the cook for finding a way to make this happen. I paid the rental fee and she gave me the key. I wanted to hug that woman for her trust in me was insanely high; no background checks, and she did not even ask me if I know how to run this thing. With a smile, she simply said "ingat po, sir" ("take care, sir") and she went back to her job. Now I'm left with a motorcycle that I need to drive away and use for the rest of the day. I summoned my inner dragon and I realized that my pride is too high to back down now. We are slaying this old trauma right here, right now. With a rally of courage and a self-motivating monologue, I started to figure out how to start this thing. It was a Honda BeAT (I don't know what that is, it's what was written at the side of the scooter) and I started to use my intuition to figure out how to start it. I know how to start motorcycles back then, especially manual ones (the ones that you have to kick a pedal to start the motor). This one was a push-start type, so I figured that one easily. Step one: start the motor - check! Step two is drive it. I started traversing this quiet road in the outskirts of Siargao; little by little, my heart relaxed and I picked up from muscle memory from a long time ago how to work these two-wheeled things. Balancing and turning were intuitive; hand positions in the handlebar and throttle were also picked up from muscle memory. Turn lights, headlights, the horn - all controls are familiar. In no time, I was cruising down the roads at appreciable speeds and the more I drove, the more I felt my trauma slowly shrinking. Why did it take so long for me to conquer this deep-rooted fear? Why did I suddenly have the courage to do this? I soon realized why - killing one of my traumas was my way of distracting myself from my other feelings. The rush of adrenaline I experienced was enough to suppress my other problems. It was a convenient distraction. This trauma turned out to be a scapegoat for another potential trauma, and I think that life always has a funny and borderline cruel way for us to navigate everyday. There I was, cruising down the roads of Siargao, on two wheels, no longer afraid. It will still take me some time to practice and be familiar with everything, but this was a great start. I drove to a tattoo shop and got my first tattoo (another story for another time). For the first time in months, I felt I had control over my life. That afternoon, I lived my best. Let's toast to conquering more traumas. May you also find the courage to conquer yours. I was so overcome with the thrill of it all that I only shot two photos to mark this milestone: one by the coast, and one by the side of the road to admire the dusk.
I recently had the best birthday excursion in recent memory, and in it, I fell down and it bruised me up. My elbows and knees are still sore as I write this piece, and as I'm recalling the events in my journal, something clicked. Our first instinct when we physically fall down is to get up. Even if we don't think about it, our bodies instinctively proceed to get us back upright when we accidentally fall. It's a reflex, and it's something that I can now appreciate more as I'm nearing the end of my 20s. Now, a lot of realizations are coming up and I decided to immortalize my thoughts here. I have realized early in my teen years that life is never constant, and that change is the only constant to expect. Being raised in a poor household in the province, it was the belief of many people that studying and planting my roots in the big city is the best move. It was a time of naivete for me, when "success" meant getting high grades in high school and getting into a good College or University to earn a degree, to then get a job. Looking back, this is a flawed argument, but we can discuss this in detail in a separate post. The summary: a big change happened, and it propped me up for multiple falls which then required multiple acts of getting up. When the field of Thermodynamics was first introduced to me in my college years, I failed to grasp its central thought. I did not understand what it meant (normal people don't). Now, as I'm teaching it, I learned to appreciate it more and I am struck by the usefulness of it as a metaphor for life (technically speaking, the Laws of Thermodynamics literally govern every aspect of our lives, but trust me, you don't want to hear the long explanation). Change brings a level of uncertainty to your path, which then leads to vastly different outcomes depending on the path taken from point A to point B. We are not state functions that are only dependent on initial and final states; our lives are path functions, and every decision we made in the past continues to shape our future. Our path makes us unique. The chaos ensuing from every decision and every change makes our lives unpredictable, and figuring it out is our journey. Along the way, we will fall many times, but our reflex will tell us to get back up and continue. Had I not risen up after a fall, I would never have reached my present state. A devastating change happened to me last year. As I fell down, I slowly got back up, and now I'm doing better. There were times when it felt like I was not getting up, but eventually, things were back on track. I never realized in the haze of it all that I was slowly rising up. As I piece everything together, I'm flooded with the memories of the many times I fell down, but I can hardly recall how I got up. Is this a testament to the reflex nature of getting up, or how we just get back up on instinct? I do believe so. I expect more falling downs in the future, but I can trust myself to instinctively pick up my broken pieces, patch and fix things, and get back up to my uniquely unpredictable path. It sounds cliche from overuse, but it is still true. Fall down, get up, fall down again, get up again, then rinse and repeat until we reach our destination. I can proudly say that I have risen up from my recent fall down.
Super special thanks to cez, gela, sam, kk
love you zui Once a year, I get to celebrate for a life that has been raging for 22 years, full of ups and downs.
This year's celebration is simple, yet special. This post's for all of you who made this day extra special. Thank you, family, friends, professors, and students. I am at a point in my life where I can either sweat out or truly appreciate even the smallest things. For that, I am truly grateful to you that spent some time in reading this. Thank you to the people who exerted so much effort to help me celebrate this special day of mine. I'd like to think that this day marks a momentous event in my life for I realized a lot of things during the past few days leading to this day: I realized my childhood dream, I realized my past mistakes, and I realized that we are indeed capable of change. For this, I am truly blessed and I could not ask for more. Once again, thank you. With all of these gifts, I have no more to ask for myself. What I would want more is the advancement of Science, the advancement of the Philippines and the world, and most importantly, the advancement of my students. To my students, heed these words: I am nothing but an instrument for the realization of your dreams. Dream high, aim high. Do not fear failure; I myself failed a lot of times and I will still expect failure in the years to come. I can understand your sentiments, given that we are in one generation. You are capable of so much more, if you would just learn to believe in yourselves. Stay, awesome, kids :) To my friends, who very well know how we celebrate birthdays, kudos to you guys :) My birthday is simply not complete without your greetings. Thank you for the wonderful years we spent together and for the years to come. To my loving family, thank you. Short and sweet: I love you. To my teachers whom I look up to, thank you. You have no idea how much influence you have on my life. Thank you for the invaluable lessons you gave me through the years, and those same lessons are what I will hand on to the next generation. Thank you. And of course, to our Almighty Father, thank you for every day that I get to spend with the people I love. Here's to 22 years, and more years to come! Cheers! That's all of Sir Ray's thoughts for now. Tulog na, may pasok pa bukas :) Special thanks to: Ate Amgee, Krippe, Aira, Zeth, Jermin, Mica, Ma'am Majo, Ma'am Flor, Chemical X, G111 (super thank you), G117, G101, G108, basta lahat kayo, hindi ko kayo kayang banggitin isa isa. Alam n'yo na yon :) Now that I am about to finish my studies, I would like to go back to the most grueling part of college life: the thesis. Technicalities aside, there are some things that I learned while working on my thesis. Who would have thought that those long hours of thinking and typing will teach me valuable life lessons?
I have learned to make the most of what I have. Last year when we went to Taiwan to gather data for our thesis, we were expecting to be placed on a Membrane Technology Lab. You know, the lab where you prepare and test membranes for a variety of applications. I was excited because I am very fascinated by membranes and I was on a membrane track before I ventured to my thesis. To our surprise, we were assigned to a Thermodynamics Laboratory where we measured physical properties such as density and viscosity. It's not that I am belittling physical properties, but the sheer disappointment of having to suddenly switch topics made me look lowly of my work. However, I chose not to hide under my own shadow of mediocrity. I took my simple set of data and turned it to something quite revolutionary (I think): a theory of liquid association structure which gave me a nomination for best thesis (a big thank you to my panel members). I was so happy with the results and the race is on to prove my theory. I have learned to be flexible. As I have said earlier, a sudden switch of topic is really heartbreaking. I was looking forward to prepare reverse osmosis membranes and apply it to portable filtering devices that would be handy dandy in survival situations or in producing potable water from flood water. Instead I spent most of my days in Taiwan pushing a button on a timer because it is time to take another reading. It may sound as if I am complaining, but I actually enjoyed my experiments. I took it as a challenge. I had to be flexible because I really don't have much of a choice. Now, I am reaping the rewards. I have learned to accept criticism and channel it to my improvement. My first thesis proposal was rejected, right off the bat. Back then, I proposed to compute a lot of molecular interaction parameters and apply them in estimating bulk physical properties. My examination committee saw my proposal as very ambitious and lacking in scientific backing, and I had to tone it down. I revised my work and submitted another proposal. Again, it was rejected. By this time, I was really depressed. I barely have enough time to prepare another proposal, and to write the whole thesis paper itself in order for me to be included in my target term's graduating class. Then suddenly, I realized: all of the members of my examination committee belong to the roster of top scientists of the Philippines. They are seasoned enough to see the flaws in my study. Thank you all for your rejection of my previous proposals. Had I not listened to them, I wouldn't have realized the foundations of my current theory and I wouldn't have finished it on time. I have learned that helping others is a very rewarding experience. I was with my best friend and colleague in every step of our theses, from our trip to Taiwan to the sleepless nights we spent writing our papers. We helped each other, traveled and laughed together, ate together, and basically did everything for the past year together. I treated him like my brother. I helped him with his thesis, and I don't regret anything. It was all I can do, and I did it well. Now, we are about to graduate together. I have realized how rare true friends are. As I was writing my thesis paper, I became very busy. So busy, that I was not able to talk to my family and friends for some time. After I finished everything, the dust settled and there I saw them eagerly waiting to hear my stories. They know how busy I am, and they understand. They know me so well that me not talking to them because I was busy was never an issue. That's what true friends are. You ought to keep those kind of friends for they are very rare. I have realized the value of time. Looking back on my hectic writing days, I realize how much time I wasted. I cannot bring back those times. I cannot utilize them anymore. I used to spend some of my hours watching movies and taking unnecessary naps, and suddenly cram when the deadline draws near. I was very inefficient and my only real talent is procrastinating. This remains one of my personal issues and I am taking measures on how to completely eradicate this behavior. Finally, I have realized that however hard you may try, you cannot totally forget someone who had been an integral part of your life. I'm going to be completely honest: one of the main reasons why I chose to develop a brain-crunching theory that even I have difficulty with is because I wanted to be so busy that I will have no time to think about her. I wanted to forget her. I wanted to not spend majority of my time thinking about her and asking questions like "Is she okay?" I miss her a lot. I still think of her at times. I see her a lot, but I can't talk to her. That is the most painful thing ever imaginable. So, was the complicated thesis helpful in moving on? No, not at all. Thank you for reading, though. I hope you learned something from what I learned. Tomorrow, it's my first day of school for the nth time, except this time, I'm the teacher, and I am freaking out.
This year has been a blast. I spent four of its days in Taiwan, and had settled in the Philippines for the rest. Since I arrived, I had introduced many changes in my life. most of which are reflections of my learnings. I'm not going to talk about relationships, I promise. I'm going to briefly deal with a dream of mine that is about to happen and it's happening way too fast. I'm officially starting my duties as a professor tomorrow, and I have no idea how to react. Of course, the news that I will be teaching this school year has been relayed to me a long time ago, but nothing has prepared me for what will happen tomorrow. I don't know why this is such a big deal for me - I have handled classes before, I have taught students before, and I had overcome my stage fright long ago. I don't see a reason for me to flip out imagining how would I fare as a teacher. And now, all of my anxiety has distilled down on this day, right before I officially start classes. At first, I did not think that I would feel this way today. I thought that I would just see it as a normal, lovely day where I go inside, talk to my students, and leave hoping that they gained something. Now, I don't even know how will I talk to them. It's like all the knowledge that I was balling up until this moment has evaporated and what was left of me is the essence of being an average person. I do not want my students to be instructed by someone who has no idea of what he is teaching. All my life, I looked up to my teachers as fountains of excellency and I want my students to feel the same. That won't happen if I march in the classroom and babble phrases that doesn't even come from me. This is my anxiety talking. Should I smile? Should I talk to them in English? Should I be the bubbly/friendly type, or should I be the terror type? Should I give them assignments immediately? Those are just some of the questions that I am currently fencing with. It's usually not my thing to question my abilities, but I recently went as far as asking myself, "Am I qualified to be a teacher, a role model, an educator?" Am I worthy to stand beside my professors and call myself their colleague?Being asked to teach by one of my past professors tells me that I am qualified enough, but why am I opposing the idea? I have long waited to be a teacher and now that I am going to be one, why am I questioning my capabilities? This is my anxiety talking. Now I realized how powerful anxiety is. It turned my dream come true into a nightmare. I was supposed to be excited, but now I am afraid to embrace my dream now that it's within my reach. I was petrified. It made me question everything that I had done to reach this point. Then I realized, there's only one thing to do at this juncture, and I am going to do it now. Kick my anxiety away, set it on fire, stomp it until the flames go out, set it on fire again, and repeat the stomping and burning until there's nothing left of it. I don't need anyone or anything, especially my anxiety, to tell me that there's something I cannot do. With the right resolve, I am capable of anything. I have enough self-confidence to tell myself that I can handle this. Other people put their trust on me so the least I can do is to not disappoint. To my anxiety, I am going to show you that you cannot destroy my dreams. You cannot hinder my desire to teach. You cannot stand between me and my students. You are nothing now, just like how you started from nothing. After all. this is a first for me, and we are all programmed to be anxious of first times as an evolutionary adaptation. Now I turn over a new leaf; I transition from a student to someone who refines a student. I will not let anything stop me from doing what is right. I will not be beat. We are destined for great things. And I intend to keep it that way. To my students, I want you know that I am now ready to stand before you and deliver everything expected of me. I promise, I won't disappoint. Now, let's go and explore greater heights of knowledge, together. A while back when I attended a traditional wedding in Botolan, Zambales (I dont even know neither groom nor bride! Read it here), I was left to ponder upon the words of the pastor who officiated the ceremony. His saying goes as:
"Ang asawa, dapat tinatanggap ng buong buo. Walang labis, walang kulang." (You must totally accept your husband/wife. No more, no less.) "Subukan n'yo man. Kapag tinanggal ang 'A' sa asawa, SAWA. Nagsisimula ang pagtatalo sa pagsasawaan." (You can even try it. If you remove the 'A' in asawa, you get SAWA [fed up]. You start having conflicts when you become fed up with each other.) "Tanggalin mo pa 'yong 'S', AWA nalang. Nananatili ka nalang sa inyong pagsasama hindi dahil sa pagmamahal kundi dahil na lamang sa awa." (If you further remove 'S', you get 'AWA' [mercy]. You stay in the relationship not because of love, but only because of mercy.) "At kapag tinanggal pa ang 'A', WA nalang. Wa na, wala na. Wala ng saysay ang inyong pagsasama." (And if you still remove 'A', you are left with 'WA' [slang for 'none']. None is left. Your relationship has no meaning.) "Kaya dapat nating piliing mabuti ang ating mapapangasawa. Huwag magmadali, huwag tumakbo, dahil kapag ika'y nadapa, ikaw ang talo." (That's why we must choose our partner wisely. Do not rush, do not run, because if you fall down, you lose.) Those are some powerful words from the pastor. It had me trapped deep inside my thoughts throughout the ceremony. He's right. Love is not a sprint, it is a marathon. You cannot run and rush into someone's heart as if it was a race. You must steadily keep on running until you reach the finish line to someone's heart. That's how it should be. Be patient enough to let destiny do its part. All of those thinking made me really hungry. Good thing it was a wedding. The food was delicious!!! (They served kilayin, a hearty Filipino recipe. Read more here) |
Kristopher Ray PamintuanNothing fancy. Chemical Engineer. Nerdy. Big, uneven eyes. If those did not repel you, click here to know more Archives
April 2024
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The Admiral Adventures