By: Iris P. Concepcion
I have never imagined bump cars gliding onto water like the colorful fleet I had posted above.
As patient readers of this blog can attest now, I am a toad when it comes to adventurous social forays. Back in the Philippines, I had climbed stairs made out of bamboo, out there in the sea, trekking in a tiny island to attend a barrio fiesta. The hanging bridge was loosely tied in plastic ropes. With no safety gear provided, I had preconditioned my mind that I am walking along two chopsticks and that a bowl of spicy noodles is waiting for me at the end of the hiking drill. I shall be choked by this writer's articulate "yo most" (read: better other) had he known I was made to enjoy the artistry of the countryside without being provided with safety, medical kits. It is not exactly a National Discovery material with shrubs around but that is as feisty as anyone can get then.
The boats above are safer. Yala has well-thought of public theme parks, emanating from its luxurious tree habitat that never seems to end. This area is built for academic concerns but any artist worth the page flip shall be lost wondrously in its bird-watching facilities, water-themed recreational outlets and affordable food. I was told by my sister-in-law that this place holds a contest for bird singing; the area looks like a canary field with windmills minus the rotating directions.
I rode in this orange-colored boat with number 18 painted on it. The water drive was smooth sailing all throughout. I would have wanted to drape over my shoulders a C. (George) Columbus get-up with fitting binoculars to view the heavenly scene but that would already be too fussy and irksome for my already engaging self as an everyday boatman.
I was asked how much I weigh when I rode in one of these beauties. I was baffled. My companion told me that she needs to know so that in case I drowned, she shall exactly know how to rescue me. I had ditched my fabulous pink, frilly dress for jeans for this outing but that would have been perfect. I may look frail to you but I can outwalk and outboat you in any Olympic competition. In any given time, without paying for atrocious gym fees. I am the female version of Manny Pacquiao and my gloves are placed on my elbows.
We were laughing all throughout our ride, navigating the green, clear water as our feet worked on like we would the bicycles. Not only do you get exercise here; you get surprises never before propagandized.
My athletic diet consists of yoghurt, biscuits, fish, carrots, cabbages, beef, pork (called muu here) and my all-time favorite ham sandwich with milk-filled omelet. It is not food for a wake. It is a snack for future football stars like myself.
I shall navigate the courses of water and make Thailand a landing pad for my extra millenium, athletic career.
On a lighter note, I had been browsing the book PRO English, NEXUS PMR (Sasbadi Sdn, Bhd, KL, Malaysia; pp.129) where a test item based on an article about ostriches is found. I had discovered the profound comedy, along with the impromptu ones that stiffen my lip in silent guffaws, in describing animals and the varying reasons for their anatomical compositions.
The article states that ostriches are birds that could not fly. They live in savannah of grassy and sandy portion near the water. They flap their wings to run and bury their heads on the ground when listening for enemies. Their necks are featherless.
The examination thus revolved around questions that made me conjure alternative and gregarious answers. Here:
1. The ostritch does not have feathers on its
a) tail
b) neck
c) back
d) wings
My answer would be "foot." I shall further explain that it remains confident of its fragrant feet that the ostritch removed the feathers on them as homage to their cherry smell. As an aside, an ostritch is a curious combination of hilarity and elegance. I did wonder why its neck (the correct answer here) is featherless. I am reminded of a chicken about to be guillotined for dinner.
2. An ostritch is unable to fly because
a.) it has long neck
b) it prefers running to flying
c) its wings are not big enough
d) its legs have only two toes each.
I would love to answer letter d because it is severely cute (answer is c). I think, if ostriches can fly, people would no longer watch Danny de Vito's comic flicks. Imagine if these huge birds fill up our skies. They would look like balloons in Mardi Gras costumes. With their wings attached to massive bodies, they might get caught off-balance competing with Lufthansa's airplanes. Sniggers.
I adore this exam formulation simply because it infuses humor (or humour, to the disciplined) that makes tests a little bearable to endure.
In fact, there is one exam question littering here that always makes my day bright.
A drawing of a robot is placed.
The query is: What is it?
a) It is a robot.
b) It is a dog.
c) It is a monkey
The next question is: What can it do?
a) It can fly.
b) It can walk.
c) It is dreaming.
I shall always answer the last query with letter c. It can dream, but the robot is, truly, dreaming.
It has made our landscape for productivity livelier and happier.
Another interesting article I had browsed lately from the New York Times is a column on "What I Shall Do If I Become President". Interesting answers, not from experts, but the pundits. They have saner answers, if I may be asked. The sharing connection deleted this from my Facebook account. I am copying it here, to propagate the most palatable views to me:
We've heard from the media and from experts — incessantly. What if we entered a pundit-free zone?
THERE’S a near-total disconnect between our real, large, urgent problems and the who’s-up-who’s-down cage match that is the daily bread of our pundit class. Unending wars, a bone-dry Southwest and flooded Midwest, the absence of a jobs program — these have been, at best, of anecdotal interest to the mouths that roar on television. Instead, media-friendly politicians and pundits have been obsessed with two contrived priorities: the debt ceiling and a presidential election that’s 15 months away.
“In moments of crisis, style dissolves into character,” says Warren Bennis, the scholar of leadership who has advised four presidents. And not just for our leaders — talking heads are also being tested. For all their eloquence, most have nothing to say that we haven’t heard them say before. Bored and frustrated, I found myself hoping for ideas that might challenge or inspire. Then I asked a range of Americans who don’t labor in politics or the media what they’d do if they were president.— JESSE KORNBLUTH, a writer and the editor of HeadButler.com
•
MICHAEL J. SANDEL
Harvard professor and the author of “Justice: What’s the Right Thing to Do?”
I would lead a campaign against the skyboxification of American life. Not long ago, the ballpark was a place where C.E.O.’s and mailroom clerks sat side by side, and everyone got wet when it rained. Today, most stadiums have corporate skyboxes, which cosset the privileged in air-conditioned suites, far removed from the crowd below. Something similar has happened throughout our society. The affluent retreat from public schools, the military, and other public institutions, leaving fewer and fewer class-mixing places. Rich and poor increasingly live separate lives.
I would invest in an infrastructure for civic renewal — not just roads and bridges, but schools, transit, playgrounds, parks, community centers, health clinics, libraries and national service. This would put people to work. And it would draw us out of our skyboxes and into the common spaces of democratic citizenship.
SHARON OLDS
Author of “Strike Sparks: Selected Poems 1980-2002”
I’d grant the very rich the boon of helping them help others, as a form of gratitude for their good fortune. I’d also connect every creative writing program with a hospital, a school, a library, a prison, a neighborhood center — workshops in the supermarkets! (“Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!”)
ANDREW WEIL
Founder of the Arizona Center for Integrative Medicine and author of “Why Our Health Matters”
I’d tell the nation that I was powerless to control the war machine, Wall Street, big oil and the other interests that run the country, and I would urge Americans to form a new political party not beholden to them.
DANNY MEYER
C.E.O. of Union Square Hospitality Group
Nearly every gut-ripping national debate asks who will get what sliver of a shrinking American pie. Where is there hope in division? Why can’t we bake a bigger, tastier pie — one from which we can all enjoy a slice? If I were president, I’d appoint a blue-ribbon committee of 14 accomplished citizens — one each representing these nonpolitical walks of American life: arts, science, sports, big business, entrepreneurs, tech, medicine, law, education, environment, defense, religion, farming and philanthropy — and charge them with imagining innovative industries that put Americans to work and add value to our world. I’d prioritize among the committee’s ideas, then advocate for a tax code rewarding sustainable job-rich industries, especially those that liberate us from imported oil. We need to create as well as we consume. If we abandon our appetite for American ingenuity, we’re cooked.
JAMES Q. WILSON
Pepperdine University professor and author of “American Politics, Then and Now”
With my staff, I would decide what my administration was for. Once I had clarified that, I would write several speeches on how to cope with a stagnant economy, how to deal with countries (such as Iran and Syria) that harass their own populations, and how the United States is committed to the survival of Israel. These speeches would not attack the other party or previous presidents but would describe the views I supported. On the economy: do I favor tax cuts or increases, expenditure reductions or increases? On terrorist regimes: what sanctions will I support? On Israel: under what circumstances would an attack on Israel be regarded as an attack on the United States? People would disagree with some of what I said, but they would know where I stand. After delivering the speeches, I would submit to Congress my specific proposals, on which I would ask them to vote.
JENNIFER EGAN