From Mediterranean then to Caliraya soon

In contrast to my present pastime that is tennis of which I am just a mere spectator, in the sport of windsurfing, however, I myself am (or was) the player.

As most of my Tripoli-based colleagues and friends (Eric Bleza, Darwin Tinea, Cesar Principe, Dondon Oraa, etc.) already know that most of my barkadas (Reflex co-members) and neigbors in Cavinti haven't yet, I have been (at least in the cyberspace for now) into this windsurfing thing for some time now. I hope that my ‘kabayans’ would not think of me as making an impression of being ‘pa-sosyal’ in the event they see me being in the company of a group of windsurfers having a good time in Caliraya sometime early next year.

Let me point out that windsurfing is more than just a recreation. It is also about camaraderie among people who share interest in the beauty of nature. I was first introduced into this sport in August of 2003 when Ed Maduli, my officemate and the only Filipino member of the windsurfing group in Tripoli, took me to Regata beach, urging me to try to experience the fun and the thrill of riding the waves in Mediterranean on a windsurfer, and the awesome feeling of being far out in the sea where there’s nothing but just you, the surfing gear, the wind and the water.

Unknown to Ed, I wasn't exactly ignorant about windsurfing. I told him that back in the late 80’s when each time the Reflex Club (our community group in Cavinti) was on picnic in Caliraya, we always had fun watching from the shore the foreigners showcasing their different windsurfing skills out in the middle of Caliraya lake and jeering at them each moment some of them would fall down hard into the water. Their show was awe-inspiring. Imagine them sailing at about the speed of speedboat with just the force of wind powering their sail.

From then on, I have fantasized the idea of becoming a windsurfer even for just a dream, not knowing that two decades later I would set foot in Libya where I would be given the opportunity of learning this sport unexpectedly. So when Ed asked me to come with him to Regata during one non-working day, I did without much prodding and literally transformed that dream into reality.

I was full of excitement and enthusiasm during my first day in Regata, all the more so when told that the water during August usually remained calm for most hours of the day, thus favorable for a first-timer like me. The VAOS group led by master-surfer Mr. Heuritsch along with veteran surfer Mr. Horner, with a bunch of beginners, namely, Mr. Schnek, Ms. Sanaa, and Ms. Isabela, was already in the water by the time we parked by the shore the Peugeot 806 we were driving. I noticed Ms. Sanaa, who was returning from her trip offshore, seemed having a hard time steering her sail as evidenced by the wrong direction she was heading. Mr. Schnek was as well having some problems with his balance as he dropped into the water frequently. About a hundred meters far out the shore, there was Ms. Isabela. It seemed she lost energy as I saw her simply swimming back to shore with her board and sail in tow.

Not long after, Mr. Heuritsch, our HR Manager cum surfing tutor, began with his lecturing on windsurfing lessons. Since he was doing this to me for free, he skipped discussing the most basic, such as how to gear up the sail or matters relating safety, and instead proceeded on demonstrating what I should do in actual practice. From him, I learned that one’s body must be positioned straight up, chest push forward, to prevent back pains when hauling the sail out from the water. When reaching for the sail, one must grab the boom by the right hand first then by the left immediately after. So simple huh? No. it’s not in practice.

For beginners let alone first timers, maintaining balance atop the board was never easy. I’ve had to fall over as many times as I attempted climbing up on it. I don’t know how many hours and days I was in this situation before I finally got used to the proper body positioning and then eventually managed to steer and maneuver the board and sail finally successfully.

If this was in Philippines, this experience might surely not have happened. For how could I afford parting with my hard-earned money in exchange for a luxurious pastime that costs over a hundred thousand (in pesos), not to mention the car you would need to transport the expensive equipment. Were it not for our company’s generosity (by lending me its spare gears ) my windsurfing passion would remain just a dream.

Ed, my surfing buddy, by the way, has eventually managed to buy a second hand at first and then later a brand new one a few months after I transferred to another work assignment so faraway from the beach. I assumed that after all these years he has already nearly perfected his gybing and tacking skills.

Since having assigned here in Ghani field, only once that I had been to Regata beach again. It was last January while I was in transit back to the field from vacation. It was still winter time when the waves were unusually big and the water was still so cold, a condition not suitable for windsurfing but just perfect for sightseeing. A photo op (haha) and a cup of cappuccino was all that we had during that Regata trip.

As I mentioned earlier, the only association I have right now to windsurfing is through the internet. I signed up for membership to Caliraya Windsurfing Fleet Yahoo Group so I could keep track of the news about the different activities and competitions the group has been undertaking. So far I’ve been entertaining myself in just looking at the photos the group has just posted. There are plenty of their pictures taken during the recently concluded windsurfing competition held in Terrazas De Punta Fuego in Nasugbu, Batangas.

When I get home for my next vacation, I would be meeting the group members in person for the first time. Cavinti is just a few kilometers away from Caliraya where they meet once in a while or more precisely when the wind forecast becomes suitable for them to windsurf. I know that most of them come from a well-to-do families judging by the brand of cars and by the brand of board and sail they are using. But these won’t deter me from meeting them as I have the impression that they are kind and accommodating enough.

Months ago one member emailed back asking that I let them know when I get back to Cavinti again so I could be with them.

Wish me luck!!!

The Calm After Sandstorm

Although pulburon, or sandstorm, or desert storm (whichever way you call it) causes annoyance by showering us with irritating dust, dirtying our accommodations and leaving behind mounds of earth materials on our surroundings, it has its favorable effect on us, nevertheless.

Actually, the people here, particularly the Pinoy craftsmen slaving in the industrial areas, always feel glad with the occasional sandstorm occurrences for they know a pleasant weather condition will emerge the following day.

I don’t know about the science behind this phenomenon but this is really what happens in my nearly seven years of existence here in the Libyan desert. A changing weather pattern caused significantly by the intermittent occurrence of sandstorms.

This means rising temperature will be reversed in the process resulting to an atmosphere as pleasurable as what you might feel when having a walk by the Caliraya lakeside next to the spillway or when having a stroll and smell of fresh air atop the peak of the Japanese garden in Talaongan. Or indeed when trekking that stretch of dirt road from Patahan in Luisiana to Patola and then all the way to Calminue in the highlands of barangay Cansuso in Cavinti, Laguna. (The names of places mentioned here are some of the scenic spots in my province in the Philippines).

Here in Ghani field, most of the Pinoys subcontracted to Veba (the oil company) work in the open areas among the heat-emitting machineries and gigantic oil storage tanks or out there in the oil rigs where they are exposed under the blistering sun. So the sudden drop in temperature is a welcome relief to them.

Before I end this piece, let me just say that my personal association with such words as sandstorm, Sahara desert, Libya, Africa, Mediterranean, Tripoli, Benghazi, etc. actually began when I was in Grade Six, when we were being exposed to the world and its many places of interest through our Social Studies subject under Mrs. Dalisay Delos Santos.

These words bring back memories of the amusing and informative daily guessing games which Mrs. Delos Santos would engage us in. We would trade questions about countries, the US’ 50 states, capitals, US’s Presidents, etc., and in every occasion my male classmate Rolinel Benerayan (now lives in Britain) would pester my female classmate Frecie Lubuguin (now lives in US) by singling her out to answer the same question over and over again throughout the school-year. That was fun then.

Well, have to end it here for now. It’s time to catch the live telecast of Nadal’s playing against Nalbanian on Madrid Masters. (Note: This blog entry was written and initially posted in my friendster blog a month ago).

Pulburon

It was late afternoon on Monday (15/10/07). The scene outside our office building has turned gloomy. Dust particles seemed evaporating. An impending sandstorm was looming in the horizon. In a short while, it would be raining…. of 'pulburon'. (Pulburon is a kind of powder milk candy popular among Filipino kids and resembles the color and appearance of sandstorm dust).

Then it came.

As viewed through our office window, strong wind began beating hard, lashing mightily on trucks and pick-ups on the road, and sending clouds of dusts into the air, blurring the immediate surroundings to near zero visibility. In their pick-up trucks, after another day of grueling work (and dollars, so they say), oil workers (locals and expats) arrived one after the other, jumping out of their vehicle and dashing off to hide in the comfort of their accommodation blocks, well, after having immersed themselves in 'pulburon'.

Thankfully, after an hour or so, this mid-October sandstorm has weakened by the time we were readying ourselves to attack the mess hall (our eating place here), of course for the dinner of the day and not because of the incompetent chef though he himself may be attacked one day if he does not mend his awful cooking ways (haha).

As I was about to lap up the smoldering broiled 'lapu-lapu' (kind of fish) served with lemon- soy sauce dip, the thundering storm has resumed with its pounding this time with a mini tornado-like force, pummeling the mess hall’s window panes and doors, and depositing next to them mound of dirt, dust particles and pile of dried leaves windblown from both the nearby tennis and basketball courts.

Moments passed and our mess hall invasion was over. Although each tummy was now full of mess hall stuff, we had to move quickly along the shortest route possible back to our individual shelter to avoid the swirling pulburon from being ingested as an extra pang-himagas (dessert in Filipino).

Back in my room after having my usual trip to the shower and now reading the day's Inquirer printouts, while watching pretty Pauleen on TV dance to 'Kagat-labi' tune(Filipino Channel), I felt the pounding continued, though it was much much stronger than it was minutes back. My accommodation trailer felt as though it was shaking, and I thought I heard the bolts securing it from its concrete base creak a bit as if their strength were being tested to the limit.

Hammering heavily on my modest dwelling, dust particles of the tiniest size have begun permeating into my room like water seeping through even the smallest of openings. Then after a little while, the satellite failed and as a result lovely Pauleen disappeared. Since I was in no mood to read, I decided to call it a day and prepared to sleep.

As for the 'pulburon', tomorrow morning Sameer, our Moroccan houseboy, as usual would have his hands full with vacuuming works to get rid of the annoying 'pulburon' now piling up little by little in every corner of my room.

To be continued.