I must have been nine. Or eleven. I'm not sure. All I know is that I was all knees and elbows, surrounded by screaming, terrified children in a pool where the water only came up to my shins. The older boys around the pool started to turn and look. I was mortified. I would have sunk into the water, but I had more chances of drowning in a bowl of soup than I did in that kiddie pool. I floated and flutter-kicked my way out of there so fast and never returned.
So concluded my one and only childhood swimming lesson.
When, on a lark, I went to a seer some time after I graduated from university, I was told that water was my danger sign. I took this to mean that I was right in never continuing my swimming lessons. And refusing to bathe. I'm kidding about the last part.
The truth is that I went on to work at different resorts (El Nido Miniloc, then Club Noah Isabelle - now known as Apulit Island Resort, and then, eventually, Pansukian Tropical Resort), and that I wasn't afraid of the water at all. I went snorkeling a lot and even learned how to dive (- I'm a PADI Advanced Openwater Diver).
Diving in Puerto Galera with Chelu Marques and Teba Orueta. (Photo c/o Parvin Dabas.)
And, while I could float and move around a pool, I really didn't know how to swim.
So, last year, when, on a whim, I thought I'd spend a month with Nicolas in Cebu and was at a loss as to what exercise I could do, I decided to continue boxing (- I had been boxing on and off at Ala Gym at Banilad Town Centre) and to finally enroll in swimming lessons. I did a Google search for public pools and swimming instructors in Cebu. And, as luck would have it, the instructor highly recommended online also happened to be working at a sports bar five minutes away from the apartment.
This being the Philippines, I managed to arrange ten one-on-one lessons with Johnny (alias Edwin, alias Angelo - which is actually his last name) to be conducted at 6 AM every other day, before the sports bar was open for business. I found out later on that Johnny lived at the sports bar so I could pretty much come over whenever I wanted, even when he was asleep. Which at 6 AM, he often was. Asleep and hungover.
Johnny must have been a swim champ in his time. He's still pretty fit. And he is an excellent instructor - whenever he's awake.
He did start me off at the kiddie section of the pool. Except that "one-on-one" became "one-on-two" as another chick showed up for lessons. I wasn't too happy with that, but let it go.
After a few sessions in the kiddie pool, I got bored and ventured into the deeper area on my own, much to Johnny's surprise. Apparently, he thought we were scared of the water and he was trying to build up our confidence before, well, throwing us in at the deep end.
Right. I had gotten narked in a 40-meter deep underwater tunnel. I was hallucinating and crying hysterically. That was scary. The deep end of a pool? I don't think so.
Although it seems that it was for her, because she never came to another session after that.
From then on, our lessons were one-on-one. Except that Johnny had pretty much showed me most of the basic strokes I had to learn, so he slept through most of my classes while I swam for an hour on my own.
That was in April 2011. It's a year later and I'm back in Cebu. I sent Johnny as message last night, asking if I could come over at six this morning. He replied, at 1 AM, that I could. I got there to find a very dirty pool and no Johnny. I told the cleaning guy I'd come back tomorrow.
So I sortakinda can swim... Nicolas says I look awkward, but that's to be expected, I guess. I'm hardly ever in the water and, when I am, like a typical newbie, I must be overthinking it.
I can't wait for the pool in Siargao to be finished. Swiss Olympic swimmer, Remo Lutolf, is a frequent visitor to the island and he's offered to help me become a better swimmer. I'd be a complete idiot to turn him down.
Remo Lutolf. (Internet file photo.)
I'll be swimming like a fish in no time.