On being an Aikidoka (Break Falls, 18 Lockings, Getting thrown around by a girl)

Like football (re: my previous post on the Azkals), I learned Aikido for all the wrong reasons.

It started in highschool upon the height of my struggle to "fit in". I reasoned at one point, "hey, if I can't join them, might as well beat em (up)..." or, "look cool enough." When the announcement that our local highschool will hold summer training for anyone interested, I signed up immediately. Like in my previous post, all I was required to do was to pay required fees, get a nice pair of jogging pants (to be used temporarily in place of official uniforms), and show up at least thirty minutes before the start of the session. And so it began. My quest for awesomeness was well on its way. Except for several speedbumps that slowed my acceleration.

THE WHITE BELT

Basic training. Our style of Aikido stemmed from (I think now defunct) the Philippine Combat Aikido Federation (who turned into the ridiculously jaded Tapondo International Federation) system of hybrid Aikido. Not too far from the traditional Aikido that Osensei (Morihei Ueshiba) developed. Ours involved for the white belts, the "Traditional Twenty Basic Techniques" to practice and memorize. I went through all the movements, the techniques (that I considered up to a point as dance steps), and the exercises. I did feel like I was getting stronger and better. Until we get to the promotional exams. Randori is actually... exciting... when you're not the one in the middle of it.

GREEN BELT

Nothing interesting. Newer techniques to master, more difficult ones I might add. Twenty-five "basic-to-semi-advanced" basics. Randori (multiple attackers) with more aggression designed to immerse the student to a semi-realistic attack scenarios designed to relax the mind of the practitioner to perform each technique without hesitation, and to face each attack without fear.

PURPLE BELT

Same pace as the Green belt. Only there are Thirty "advanced basic techniques", and an introduction to grappling defenses. They also teach you to defend against mugging and "hold-ups" here. At this point I will have to say that I suck at techniques. I have had a hard time memorizing them and only pass promotional exams by sheer luck. Getting the lowest passing grade in each exam is my definition of sheer luck since other students get relatively high marks.

YELLOW BELT

Now here things get pretty interesting. You get to defend against kicks. Fun. Especially when your instructors have trained extensively in kicking arts and watch too much Ultimate Fighting Championship and Pride FC. Oh, I did mention you are the one defending against kicks? So, after exercises, warm-ups, advanced techniques and grappling practice, the rest of the session involves you being target practice by really good kickers. On the bright side, you are considered a senior student, so you've earned the right to get kicked around. Bravo. And your exams require you to perform all the techniques from white to purple belts. Fun.

BLUE BELT

Aside from getting kicked, you also earn the right in this belt grade to get stabbed. By an equally painful wooden knife. Nope, no spring-loaded toy practice knife. You get the bamboo one. Stings like hell. At least, when you're not treated as something to sharpen that knife on, you get to play hostage in hold-up defenses and advanced grappling sessions. And randori is much more interesting. No more two-againts-one. Three-against-one to the more thrilling adrenaline rush of random attackers from different sides is there for your training enjoyment. Plus by this stage, you must have the ability to somersault and break falls properly. Trust me, it's for your own good. I've been thrown around by girls half my size and almost broke an arm, leg, and almost suffered a concussion.

BROWN BELT

To make things short, this is the REVIEW belt. All you've learned - kicking defense, hold-up defense, grappling, knife defense - you'll learn new tricks while re-mastering all of it. Additional things to learn are: defense against boxing and stick and long bladed weapon attacks. But the fun part is weapons training. The bokken, jo, bo staff, and kali/arnis sticks get thrown in the curriculum. All to prepare a student to his transition to

BLACK BELT

I've learned that the real training starts here. So far, I'm still stuck to the first degree, since there are no more promotional exams held in the Cubao HQ. Our dojo split from the main years back and became an independent dojo.

I've continued my training since then and finally grasped the ideals of the art only superficially. You see, Aikido was a mindset - a philosophy; a religion; a way of life - for dear old Osensei Ueshiba. It preaches non-combat over direct opposition against an opponent's force. You direct that force against your opponent not to hurt him, but to neutralize and frustrate the attack. Same applies to real life, as with most martial art philosophy. So when I said I learned aikido for all the wrong reasons, I just wanted to look cool and be able to kick ass. Of course I got into fights, as many fledgling martial artists do, but age and wisdom tend to change that perspective. One only fights when he needs to. Aikido translates to the Way of Harmonious Living.

Despite my deep understanding of the art, like I said, I have yet to realize and experience it in its entirety. I have yet to experience the "enlightenment" that many Aikido masters have had for them to be called as such. But I am indeed looking forward to it someday. I do practice the non-combative attitude, but sometimes when that punch is thrown, instinct takes over and philosophy is thrown straight outside the window. It's not a question of how you did it, but rather how did you react?

Nevertheless, I have really benefited from it. I've become more patient (I do think so), learned nifty techniques to get calm, and face things without fear. I've become more calculated, motivated, and goal-oriented. So I wanted to kick ass, and I got more than I hoped for (most of the time my ass was the one gettig kicked a lot). So did my parents and friends noticed.

But I am still lazy and hard-headed as an ox sometimes.

"Oh dear, after this he'll go get his old gi and sit on one corner and pretend to meditate." Says my mom.

But, mom, you have to admit, I do look good in it.

Azkals, Football, Aikido and Me.

I started appreciating football out of the wrong reasons.

It started one lazy afternoon after merienda (in other countries, afternoon tea and biscuits), when my cousin from the States came home for a visit. He brought along a ton of goodies, and one of them was a DVD-ROM for the Playstation2. He popped the disc in my PS2, started a game with his favorite team - Inter Milan, and kicked the crap out of the computer-generated AI.

"Who's the rival of your beloved team?" I asked my cousin. And when I got the answer I boldly announced, "Okay... I'll use that team and I will beat you so bad." Of course, I didn't win. As a matter of fact, I sucked. Big time. But I got hooked. Later that night, I tuned to the telly and watched a game of footba- almost forgot. For other non-fans, I am obliged to inform you that football, is also called soccer. Watched a game of football and fell asleep before first half was over. I woke up just in time to witness a most spectacular goal. And the hook just sunk deeper and deeper, the wound it gave me will get infected. Ever since then, I found a few friends with a similar interest, who, despite my being ill-equipped for the game, allowed me to tag along their games and let me in on some. I got six bruises, both knees scraped, a bloody nose, and a huge smile on my face. Afterwards, I bought shoes to play with, on account of three toenails getting... well... hurt. I tagged along with my friends, played and fell in love with the sport. So I researched, asked my Dad who played the game well back from his military days, and practiced with a ball and a makeshift goal in the form of two cones near the garage.

I wasn't really born athletic. I was the kid who never got picked even for dodgeball despite my attempts to get into a sport. Other kids grew up playing basketball, volleyball, and whatnot. Me? I grew up in a dojo of some sorts, so I had a lot of difficulty getting into team sports. Now that's another story.

(flashback ala Chang Kwai Cain:

"So, you want to enroll in our Aikido dojo, huh? Young grasshopper?"

"Yes, I do."

"Ok. You're in. Pay the corresponding fees and be prepared by Saturday. Your training starts then."

huge smile.

of course, like Pol Medina, Jr. - creator of Pugad Baboy, no one told me about somersault break falls, and the eighteen wrist locks)

Back to football. (flashforward)

Like I said, I wasn't talented in contemporary team sports. I sucked before and I still suck now. But despite all that, the desire to play THE game just settled in my blood. I still watch different leagues on the telly, but I liked the German leagues and Italian series the most.I attempted to play in our school intramurals, and so far I discovered the hard way that being goal keeper was not my thing. I could be better in it, of course, but doing fullback defender suits me just fine. I enjoyed that position, comfortable with it, and able to do good to our team. This year, I wasn't able to join the Law School team, and got a wee bit depressed about it. Oh well, there's always next year provided I won't get kicked out because of my "technical" subjects.

Recently, the Philippine Football team is getting the attention of mainstream Philippine Sports. Mainly because they are performing quite well. Like in my previous post, I commented on a reaction by a dorm mate that their qualifying in the AFC Challenge Cup was to be credited on mere luck. I replied, "oh ye of little faith."

3-0 is no mere feat, my boy. Of course, I had to remind myself that this person is unfamiliar with the game in its entirety. As my cousin, the same one who introduced me to the sport, observed, our countrymen are fair-weather fans. As long as the team does good, it's all swell with cheers and support. If the Azkals don't give a stellar performance in 2012, then the support will drop back to hard-core football fans. I'm hoping despite this, the support and popularity of the team as well as football in the Philippines will never wane.

Of course, many of us haven't heard of Paulino Alcantara Riestra. A Filipino who is, in my opinion, the greatest football player our country ever had. He was born to a Spaniard and a Filipino mother who is from Ilo-Ilo (the Philippine's football capitol. Ask a kid who plays football barefooted from that province who's his sporting idol and he will most likely answer Ronaldo), and became Barcelona's youngest player to play or score for the team. He also made 357 goals in over 300 plus games during his career, making him somewhat of a legend. He also became a manager, selector, and club manager, and later on after he retired, a doctor. This was way back during the colonial periods. Paulino Alcantara also represented the Philippines in Tokyo, where the Philippines scored an amazing 15 goals. Amazing because for me, scoring one goal is such a task already. Alcantara also played in different international games, and always giving a stellar performance.

So far, I am all for football. I may not be the best one for a team, or even for a replacement, but I will still play when the opportunity arises. I may suck at it, but I love it. As well as my dad, my only fan so far. But as far as fans go, well, he's the criticizing type.

I popped that old FIFA CD into my PS2 once more, and laughed at my dad about something he said.

"Anak, ano yan? Replay?"
I snickered before answering, "Yep."
"So, who's winning?" Asked my dad.
And I answered with that silly smile of mine, "Me."

RH Bill, More Earthquakes, Tensions in the Middle East, and Fast Eating coupled with the Azkals

I was not able to post anything new. Basically because there was nothing to write about. Actually there's a ton of things to write about, only that I don't want to write it. Not yet. No, it is not writer's block, not a motivation thing, but something every writer (or in my case, an amateur) looks for. The right time to put it down on paper... or blog.

Finals are done and all in the past, and since coming home I was swamped with things to do. And none of those in the top of the priority list was done. Mainly because I was hooked to the telly this past week. Telly and internet news. CNN, BBC, ANC, Al-Jazeera - name it, I was channel surfing like a paranoid android. Of course, the occasional silly movie and MMA events got into the line of "things to watch", only to lighten my mood.

Libya's troubles so far didn't turn out for the better. Coalition strikes, and lately something of a statement of support for the no-fly zone from other Arab nations, are the meat of the soup... What worries me is the bombing in Jerusalem. Let's face it, anyone who read the Book of Revelations can, at first glance, if you wanna take things literally (thanks, St. John of Patmos, you messed up my imagination again with your mushrooms), will really consider thinking Parousia. It's just a scary world we are living in now.

I am conflicting myself with earlier statements I have given in my last post (re: Earthquakes, Tsunamis, 2012, Tibetans, and Atlantis Rising A.K.A. Don't Panic). But don't get me wrong, though. I am still going with the Johnny Walker mantra (re: Ibid). It's just that you cannot help but worry. What makes matters worse is all those irritating end-of-times posts on social networking sites. Come, on! We've been through this before. Well, if you'd only read my blog. Must I remind you guys of our dear old friend Johnny Walker?

Another thing that is a worrisome thorn in my side is the consecutive earthquakes here in Asia. Thailand and Myanmar got hit with the latter having it a bit worse. Pacific Ring of Fire. And here I am living kilometers away from a volcano within a volcano. Well, a few days ago, Manila was rocked by a quake, which led the media to broadcast speculations on whether the country will be ready if ever a big one will hit. Then I receive an e-mail from my uncle containing the correct way of finding shelter if ever you find yourself in a situation induced by tectonic plates deciding to do the salsa. Or cha-cha... whatever. How I wish the government spent more budget on Phivolcs.

As a good buddy of mine said, "Oh Lord, madami pang magaganda sa mundo. Wag Ka muna maglinis." (or something like that).

Lastly, not that this bothers me much in any way since legislation in the Philippines is a tedious business, is the highly controversial Reproductive Health Bill. Whatever it boils down to - morality or modern healthcare, there is always, in my belief and I could be wrong, of course, the Separation of Church and State. Like I always say, I have nothing against those who protest the RH Bill, but please, clergymen, you're duty-bound to the people as a moral and social element. Not political. Your job is to educate and guide the people. I found it a bit amusing to find that some supporters do not understand what the RH Bill is about. I mean this: "we are against Abortion! NO TO THE RH BILL!" Abortion was not even in the said piece of legislation. It's for contraception - artificial. Our Revised Penal Code and I think (oh, dear. My CrimLaw profs will kill me if I get it wrong) a special law provides for that. (what, Mr. Marxius Pollux? YOU THINK?!) But what is a really good sign is that different religions here united against it in a recent prayer rally held to show their protest. However, some supporters seemed misguided. But then again, this is a good step for them, I suppose. I was even happy to see the different representatives of their respective religions and sects seated beside each other on the stage. Now, only if everyone had that similar mindset.

Hmmm... The Constitution does provide for the protection of the unborn child after all.

Since it is the time of Kwaresma (in preparation for the Holy Week), I've made it a personal sacrifice to fast every friday for the whole 40 days before easter. Every year I've been doing it, end every year I just can't get used to it. (Oh no, it's almost Friday... time to chow and beat the clock) Hence, my joke about Fasting getting turned to Fast Eating. My mom told me a few hours ago, "before you'd practice abstinence (not eating meat), now you're fasting. When you'd abstain, you weren't really sacrificing, but rather enjoying yourself with all the seafood you can eat," and she goes far to add, "and when you fast, as soon as Friday is over, you pig out."

Mom, it's the thought that counts. Is it?

On a lighter note, the Philippine Football team Azkals (WOOF!) made it at long last to qualify for the AFC Challenge Cup. Yay! As soon as I posted a comment on a social networking site, one of the unbelievers/non-football fans said it was a mere stroke of luck. Chamba. Whatever, dude. I love THE game so much I will post a separate blog post on it as soon as I am through with this one. Which is now.

Funny, I got something to write about after all. Hah!

Earthquakes, Tsunamis, 2012, Tibetans, and Atlantis Rising. A.K.A. DON'T PANIC

Yesterday Japan was hit by a magnitude 8.9 quake that sent tsunami waves over the island country and left a trail of devastation. The word "trail" is an understatement. What the footage from CNN showed is more like an expressway. Afterwards, a Level 2 tsunami warning was given to multiple provinces most likely to be hit by a sudden rush of waves from Japan.

Mixed reactions to the event included:

I.Fear and Uncertainty (2012 is just around the corner)

A professor whose posts in social networking sites I usually follow mainly because of their sheer entertainment value quoted: "I am still at awe with the tsunami in Japan. My mom warned me about 2012 and the lawyer in me always would find it baseless. Now, I am having second thoughts..." Another posted a quote by professor Dumbledore, "these are dark times, Harry." While a friend of mine commented: "2012 na!! wooooo!! mangungumpisal na ko bukas!!"

What is inducing this hysteria of the End of Times? (as I type this entry, I am currently chatting with a highschool friend based in Italy talking about SLR cameras, contracts, and boyfriends/douchebags). The Mayan calendar had its share in the spotlight. Thanks to the CGI-studded overkill that is a movie titled 2012, and other so-called end of times themed media content, people are seriously getting into the Armageddon thing. Bandwagon effect.

Which reminds me to read once more a book. A really good one. And I don't mean the Bible because if its the end times we are talking about the Good Book's version paints a rather bleak picture for the average reader. The symbolism and style of St. John of Patmos makes it even harder to grasp the message of hope it was intended to give. And it messes with my imagination. What I am talking about is Good Omens: the Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. Penned by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, it tells the story of Armaggedon in British Humor where... simply put, an angel and demon figure out what the effe'd up mess they got themselves into when the antichrist is gone missing. If any of you sulkers-bacause-it-might-be-the-end-of-the-worlders need a bit of cheering up, here's a riotous good read. What is ironic is that I was terrified with the subject when I was a kid. Now, I tend to just read about it and understand what I can of it.

II. Amusement (mild to severe)

After posting news bits to my social-networking account (since a lot of people were misinformed of the matter and its effects), I was still swamped by chatboxes. You know the kind that pops out of nowhere to interfere with the streamed videos you just enjoy watching? I got over a few of them.

"Hey, Pao! Will an earthquake hit us too?"
"Lilindol daw ba sa Pilipinas mamyang 7pm?"
"Pare, grabe nung sa Japan..."
"SI MARIA OZAWA ANG EPICENTER SA JAPAN!"
"Dami naman bumayo dun, men."
"Will we be able to predict a tsunami? Pwede ba yun?"
"Oo ata."
"Aabot daw sa Manila."
"Hinde ah."
"Earthquake yun, Pao, not tsunami."
"One meter lang pala eh. Kaya ko languyin yun."
"You guys lost me..."
"Tawagan ko na ba nanay ko sa probinsya, pre?"
"Nagpagupit na pala si Justin Beiber"
"WAG NA TAYO MAG-ARAL! MAGUGUNAW DIN PALA ANG MUNDO!"
"gusto ko pa magka-anak, Lord."

We decided to make fun of it to a certain extent that we won't go to hurting anyone's feelings. I mean, it's sad and all, but it will do us no good living in constant fear of the possibility that the world will end by umpty-tumpy-twelve or thirteen, or fifteen. But I still have to say that when the great beast or kraken rises from the sea or wherever, such things surely mess with your head. My imagination's acting up again.

Boiling seas, rivers turning into blood, fish falling from the sky (or it that frogs?), the four horsemen doing their thing. I mean the whole shebang! From what I observed here at the dorm, a lot of people have mixed reactions they bordered to a dozen so I narrowed them down to the common ones. Well, except for the lewed ones like a dormmate asked me, "If I raped this really hot girl today, and the world ends tomorrow, will I still be guilty?" That bit wasn't amusing at all.

FYI: St. John of Patmos loved mushrooms. So that might account for the way the Book of Revelation was written.

III. Figuring things out (theory: this is exactly what made Atlantis disappear)

Our discussion earlier led to some pretty good scientific bases. From the core heating up, the pacific ring of fire, asteroid strikes, global warming, Scrat of the Ice Age franchise messing up the world; to movie and teevee plotlines based on actual scientific and biblical theory Armaggedon (starring Bruce Willis), Knowing (starring Nicholas Cage), End of Days (starring Arnold Schwarzenegger), the list goes on. Nostradamus effect, the tensions in the middle east that might lead to WW3. Just name it, and I have a long discussion about each of them. Since I was held as the resident repository for the whole disaster/doomsday genre, it just made me more glum. Will our generation be the one to go down in the history books (I guess it would be such a short paragraph) as the generation that witnessed the last days?

IV. Deal with it. (some ignored it, some did something about it)

Regardless of the hype, the strangeness, fright it may cause, life will go on. I remember Chang Kwai Cain's lines in the TV series Kung Fu: "it doesn't matter if we have a long life or a short life, both are just fleeting moments in time."

It makes you think as well about how to deal with what we are faced with now. Some might just be paranoid about it. Personally, it just makes me want to spend time with family and friends. And I swear to high heaven when I get home after exams I will do just that. It will just boil down to how we deal with it, really. My dad would always say that, "maybe that 2012 thing will just reveal a huge change in the world." I like the thought, too. Since it gives a hint of hope, no matter how vague it may be. So the following days, weeks, months... er... or year, still try to get up in the morning for your early jog. Still go to school and get effe'd up with friends. Still eat those things that ruin your diet. Still do what you do. Still work. Still pray. Still pray and work.

As my favorite brand of liquor says, in large, friendly cursive:

"Keep Walking"

Fitting in

I opened my facebook about a few days ago and saw a post from one of my groups. The post included the planned highschool reunion of my block way back then. The guys who acted as organizers said that, "Everyone is invited as long as your from our section/block. No groups, no factions, no 'barkadas'. Basta ma-solid ang section." Or something like that.

IV-St. Therese batch 2003. No barkadas. Just us.

Hell, I didn't even associate myself with them. Sure, they're my classmates and all, I spent four years of my teenage life with them, and I could count on one hand people I consider friends among them but somehow I didn't belong. So far, my friends were from the other section. IV-St. Cecilia. Now those guys were cool with me, mainly because they accepted me. I would cut some classes and just sit in on them. My section was one floor below the Cecilia's room, but that didn't stop me.

The reason I didn't get along with the Therese kids was mainly because I didn't fit it. Well, at least with them. I just couldn't get them, really. So, I went on with four years, trying to fit in but could not. Then at about senior year, I just gave up. i won't force myself on such people. Besides, the people I go around school with... Well, I feel comfortable with them. While in my class, I had to struggle. One wrong comment (at least for them.) and they think you're different. Weird. Baduuuuy... By fourth year, I just didn't care.

One particular person was an ex-friend. Well, at least a former member of our circle. Until he started hanging out with the other guys (those typical, highschool jock-types who think they're cool but all of a sudden you realize that they're just being total douchebags. Yep, I tried fitting in with the "in" crowd back then). It was okay at first, but when I got first-hand information that this guy was bad-mouthing a friend of mine - the one who considered him a best friend - well, it changes your whole perspective. I started hating the guy. I hated him so much I wouldn't take notice of him, even after college. Do you have to sell out your friend just to fit in? Well, it worked for him.

The rest? All the same. They'll look cool and "in" at first, then when you look closely at them, they just start to look the same. Acting so high and popular when the people around them wouldn't give a cent's worth about them. Maybe that's just the stigma of high school. It's just pathetic how their pride would swell with just one measly praise that it just get to their heads that it becomes too silly. They may say now that I would not understand, but I'll answer, "oh, I get you all right. I understand you guys too well."

Our assistant principal asked me to help her make sense of it all. I just explained that she wouldn't. Not even if she tried. The only comforting words I just told her were, "at least you'll be rid of us on graduation day." Somehow that made her feel better. Upon asking whether she should tell my section what she thought of them, I made the most kind act I could give to my classmates.

"What they don't know won't hurt them." But I was telling it in a way that our assistant principal wouldn't hurt herself. You know the guys who made fun of teachers to the point of disrespect, and think of themselves as better than the advice they get from those teachers? Yeah. They are the kind.

(At this point, I would state my own fault. I mean, I'm not clean myself. I can think of several unsavory traits of our own adviser. Now she is another case a whole new post would fill up.)

So far, I'm far away from them as possible. And I'd like to keep it that way. The only excuse I could think of when the rarest chance of someone from my class meeting up with me is that I should be at least polite and civil (except for the guy I mentioned earlier).

My girlfriend is my classmate back then, also a Therese kid. But she was different. She was one of the girls I plain ignored. Well, how we got together that is a different story. But for some reason, she understood me. Whereas the others, well... I don't get them, they don't get me. Me and my 'barkada' back then are still a solid group up to now. They adopted me in their section, and so far other Cecilia folks don't mind. Most of them consider me a friend. Despite me not being one of them, I found myself fitting in quite well. Ironically, it was with the Therese's I tried opening up. While the Cecilia's I didn't have a hard time with so. Maybe that's just it. You just can't please everybody, and I was somehow an outcast in my block. But there were my real friends on the second floor that I could hang out with.

That may be just the thing. You cannot fit in with people you don't like even if your life depended on it. But you'll eventually find people - friends - who you'll trust your life with. You don't need to fit in once you realize you know where you belong. Not to some cool group, or with your classmates just because they are so. It was high school back then. We gotta enjoy that phase of life. There was nothing I regretted going through that awkward experience. I learned that there are people like that... and it was not my scene.

Did I fit in? Thank God I didn't. Who knows what I ended up as.