The Belles Of War

One moment school photographer, war correspondent the next. We were in a resort on the hills of Java, Indonesia not 30 kilometers from Mt. Merapi, the volcano which only weeks ago had started to erupt. The team building games were winding down when I noticed a small militia of boys and girls breaking off toward the lower resort grounds. They were ominously armed, albeit, with bright yellow-and-orange-colored weapons. The boys favored the long arms and machine guns. Some were even in camos, flack vests, and had bandoliers slung over their shoulders. Their deadly intent was clear and they were scary. The girls were armed with pistols, which they swung about with grace, like handbags, while they walked. They were, uh, well, pretty.

In the flurry of preparations for this field trip I’d heard there would be a Nerf War and this must have been it. A Nerf gun is very expensive. The battery-powered weapon fires a projectile made of a cylindrical tube of styrofoam tipped with a thin cap of slightly heavier plastic. The result is bullet that will fly about 15 or so feet but will not have enough mass to hurt. The downside is, should it hit an eye or a face, it can still cause injury. No other faculty member was present, so I jumped in to set the rules of war. No head shots. Ever. No going on precipices or roofs.  All combatants were also to take time to write their initials on their bullets or lose them. The battlefield was to be in an area were the projectiles could be easily found. Three hits equaled an out. Flack vest counted for 2 extra hits. It was hard to lay down the rules though, the boys were spoiling for a fight. Rules declared, I stepped back to watch.

The first skirmishes broke out early. The boys’ imaginations were very fertile and had set up headquarters over a hundred meters away from the girls’. This presented some difficulty because the bullets had a maximum range of 4 meters but were reasonably accurate only in the first meter. Premature fire was going off with nary a girl in sight.

When the two camps finally engaged, the boys gamely took shelter behind hedges and nursed their shots until the big charge. The girls’ battle strategy was to stay out in the open and dodge the silly bullets that the boys were shooting from afar. They figured early that since the boys couldn’t hit anything, it was safe to come up on the other side of the hedge, wait for the boys to stick their heads out and shoot them. Now didn’t I say no head shots? But fortunately, the girls’ aims were none too accurate either so there was just a lot of shooting from both sides of the hedge.

“Bang! You’re dead! No I’m not, I got 2 lives left!” “Teacher, am I dead yet?” And so it went. War is hell. But not for me though. As I watched this war I was simultaneously viewing a long forgotten war I had fought in the 60s. My cowboy revolver with the antler horn grip used to fire with a “bin-yang” sound (I made the sound, of course) while my kid sister’s Winchester rifle went “ee-bang!” No Nerf guns in those days. And here I was again, in the midst of murder and mayhem. Will men never learn to eschew the horrors of war?

The boys were impressively grim. Scrunched down for cover, they must have seeing hordes of enemy approaching to overrun their camp. The girls were not cooperating though. They traipsed in the open. They took time to pick up bullets and reload. They aimed, they danced close, they fired, and they hit. When finally the boys couldn’t take it anymore they charged with guns blazing in full auto. The fleet-footed darlings, on the other hand, scampered away giggling and unscathed.

Hostilities ceased when there were no more bullets to fire. Then it became a mass search for expensive bullets in the grass, under the hedges. Some of the girls complained about the nasty mud which soiled their sneakers. One exasperated girl observed that this war was too much trouble. Meanwhile, the boys stolidly reloaded magazines and ammo belts. But all good things must come to an end. It was 11:30 and we had to be packing for the ride home. So I declared the war was over, and peace was restored in Indonesia.

Totem Poles

Let me tell you a funny story. Last week, I asked the OB (office boys), a euphemism for the maintenance people of this school I teach at, to go help me plant a tree I had acquired for the school. I make it sound so simple but it's not. I don't speak the local language well enough to say a proper sentence and can only speak enough not to starve in front of a food counter. What makes things more interesting is I'm new to the school and haven't quite made my presence as a department head felt yet. I'm still testing the waters so to speak and making sure I don't tread on the wrong toes...only the proper ones.

Getting back to that tree planting thing, one of the men was clearly not obeying me, choosing instead to post himself at the entrance where the primary school kids came in. I went back to him, signaling for him to plant. He wasn't having on it. I said in English, "C'mon, let's go!" and he answered back, looking full in the eyes in the local language and indicating that he was staying right there.

Well, I went off and got the thing planted. But I didn't forget. Just as soon as the thing was planted I went off and called him into the office for a local teacher to translate for us. I felt that I had been disobeyed and disrespected. I was ticked.

The teacher said that he was supposed to be where he was, something about a rotating shift. The translation was not perfect, I suspected, but still I was not appeased.

I dismissed him and went off to the school's director, explained the situation, and - in so many words - demanded satisfaction. A pound of flesh would do nicely.

The school director promptly called him on the carpet and this time, she spoke with him. Their department's head was there too. Well, the director told me that standing instruction were that an OB was to be present at that time to help any arriving students with their bags as they alighted from the cars. That his refusal to help was due to those instructions and not intended to disobey a summons for help. This explanation I had to accept but did not buy. What I did buy was that this time he was visibly deflated, that he was genuinely aware he was on the carpet. That was what I needed to let the matter slide.

It was later that day I realized just how petty and proud I had been. It was so embarrassing to come to that realization. But there it was. What a jerk I had been!

One Week Later

Today, something of a similar nature happened.

Rewind: One of the school's major shareholders called me a month ago suggesting the services of her beloved nephew who she said was very good at debate and could help me develop a debate team for the school. As there was a Book Day coming where a debate competition could be help, his knowledge might come in useful, or so she said. Where was his salary coming from and what were his rates? The school director didn't know, and neither did the school principal. Enter the doting aunt. She calls me, asks me to please not let the boy know that she was paying his salary.

The first week, the precocious fair-haired boy comes in. Initially deferential. Second week comes, the classes are held in a different classroom, some students do not show up. He seems surprised but game. Finally, today comes.

The kids are different again. Some can't make it, some are coming from other regular activities, some have gone home and aren't interested. Now he's talking with the school director and now he's visibly upset. Why are we moving around classrooms so? Why aren't "his" students ready and waiting? In so many words but what he's really asking is for me to account to him. This so-and-so pup is demanding that I have run around and rolled out the rest carpet for him!

I finally have to tell him to his face that his is an ad hoc class, that he was not expected to be here for the rest of the term and on that basis did not need to be concerned with other school matters. The dear boy will not be thwarted. "Would it not have saved him the trouble of repeating his lesson if he had been advised beforehand of present circumstance?" (What circumstances? That the kids were - as usual - doing a thousand and one things and so were we teachers?). I shot back, "what had I withheld from him that prevented him from teaching today what he had been hired to do?" He persisted and tried to follow the argument that he could have been more effective if blah blah blah... to which I replied "I repeat myself, yours is an ad hoc class and talk of what might have been and might be is moot.

But what really got my goat was this whippersnapper had the gall to point his finger at my chest why he was venting!

The class finally got going and the kids were sent on their way. That's when I had him to myself and told him he'd best not point his finger at me again because I resented it. I also told him to take that talk about him staying on with a grain of salt because the matter was still to be decided.

It's early in the evening now and the day's dust has settled. Still when I think back about it, I realize that I have been - today - in the shoes I put that OB in. And come back at the Jerk in exactly the same way.

And so the world goes around. Ha!

Barkada Tagalog

Translated and then expanded from a note posted by Elijah Juarez in his Faceboook page: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/photo.php?pid=3665981&op=1&o=global&view=global&subj=100000676910722&id=594216818

When a Filipino says:
"Malapit na ako" which literally means "I'm nearby = I'm almost there," what he actually means is "I'm near [the bathroom since I still have to take a bath before I meet up with you guys]".
"Try ko" (Taglish) meaning "I'll try" but really means "Wish all you want but no way I'm going to do that."
"Sunod ako" which is short for "Susunod ako" meaning "I'll follow [after you]" but really means something like "Hell will freeze over before I come with you."
"Ako ang bahala" meaning "leave it up to me" though is closer in meaning to "I'll take care of it," but can - depending on who's saying it and the circumstance - mean "I'll take care of it, and it'll take care of you."
"Andito lang kami" meaning "We're (just around) here" or "We're in the vicinity," means exactly that.