Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Unravelling the Probability of Truth

23 September 2013 

I received crushing news today. I got an email from the University of the Philippines (UP) saying that I failed the admission test to the Graduate Studies in Creative Writing. Although I was expecting it, I am still heartbroken. 

I'm bursting with ideas and have hundreds of pages of notes and sailing stories I want to share- extraordinary experiences full of drama, comedy, romance and suspense. I have this dream of writing a book about my sailing adventures which no Filipino has ever done it before. However, I often find myself struggling with the actual writing and don't know where to start when I think about my "book". I end up staring at my computer for hours, days, overwhelmed with the task.



Nine Muses by Napoleon Abueva outside the UP Faculty Center
A writer friend of mine advised me to take formal writing classes to help me with structure, crafting and methodology. I consulted someone from the Creative Writing Department in UP, my beloved alma mater, and was told to take Graduate Studies in Creative Writing. So I applied.

After submitting the requisite requirements such as my transcript of records, references from former employers and samples of writing work, I was surprised to find out that there is an admission test. Silly me thought that pure desire would be enough for UP to support my dream. I had no idea what the exam would be like and how to prepare. So I did what I normally do when I don't know what to do. I did not do anything.

I arrived in the test venue last September 2 half an hour early with butterflies in my stomach. It was in the "new CAL Building" which looked about 10-15 years old despite its neatness. My fellow examinees were at least half my age. 

There were only 3 questions: 

1. Name 2 literary works that you read recently that you feel will make for a worthwhile study of the art of writing. 

Woah, that's deep, man! Tough question and I wasn't sure how to answer it. I thought long and hard and replied to the best of my abilities about Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco and My Life by Keith Richards. 

2. Adapt the following passage into the genre of your choice. Do not exceed 2 pages.

         The misery of us that are born great!
           We are forced to woo, because none dare woo us;
           And as a tyrant doubles with his words.
           And fearfully equivocates, so we
           Are forc'd to express our violent passions
           In riddles and in dreams, and leave the path
           Of simple virtue, which was never made
           To seem the thing it is not. Go, go brag
           You have left me heartless; mine is in your bosom:
           I hope 'twill multiply love there. You do tremble:
           Make not your heart so dead a piece of flesh,
           To fear more than to love me. Sir, be confident:
           What is't distracts you? This is flesh and blood, sir:
           'Tis not the figure cut in alabaster
           Kneels at my husband's tomb. Awake, awake, man!
           I do here put off all vain ceremony,
           And only do appear to you a young widow
           That claims you for her husband, and, like a widow,
           I use but half a blush in't. 

What? I was dumbfounded. I read and reread the passage and still couldn't understand it. Who died? Plus "Adapt the following passage into the genre of your choice". Huh? I could not answer the question because I did not even understand it. And finally- "Do not exceed 2 pages"- puede bang one line lang (is one line ok?)? I asked the teacher for help but she was just a proctor and could not assist me. 

3. Make a literary analysis of the attached short story "The First Day" by Edward P. Jones. Include a discussion on verisimilitude or the probability of truth. 

Verisimi-what?! I read the seemingly simple story numerous times, turned it upside down and inside out but could not find any profound or hidden meaning in it. And even if I did, I had no idea what verisimilitude is and what probability of truth means.

We were given 3 hours for the exam. I spent an hour on Question 1 and the rest of the time grappling with 2 and 3 while the rest of the examinees were bent over their desks furiously scribbling away. For the first time in my life, I wrote a letter at the end of my test paper addressed to whoever will check it and made a pathetic attempt at explaining my incompetence and begged him/her to please oh please accept me.

Proud Bareboat Skipper Certificate holders with our instructor
As I said, I'm not surprised that I failed the exam and I blame myself for overconfidence. Instead of preparing for the test, I spent my time daydreaming of being back in my minamahal kong UP (beloved UP) after 28 years with its familiar acacia-lined avenues, stately old buildings, students sitting on the corridors studying and playing the guitar, even the same uncomfortable wooden chairs and smelly toilets.

My mom, my number one fan and cheerleader, told me to "try and try again!" I am normally quite persistent but I now recall an interesting character I met last June 2012 when Raul and I with 4 other friends took an International Bareboat Skipper Training Course. Conducted by International Yacht Training Worldwide (IYT), the global leader in yacht training and marine certification, this course is the equivalent of earning a driver's license so you can rent and pilot a sailboat on your own anywhere in the world.

We flew in a British instructor from Thailand, the only IYT school in Asia, to Anilao, Batangas for this class. It is a 5-day intensive course with two 3" binders of lectures, classroom and water exercises, and written and practical exams. We learned advanced theories like meteorology, collision regulations, pilotage and passage planning. An interesting topic was how to read the lights of other vessels at night so you can tell its direction, length, whether it's towing or pushing something, if it's stalled, sail- or power-driven, and other crucial information required for safety.

Water exercises in 20-30 knots of wind

Students should be experienced sailors who have logged at least 200 miles at sea. At that time, Raul and I had already sailed thousands of miles on our own without formal lessons, learning by reading and trial and error, persistently practicing in all kinds of weather, without crashing our boat or killing anyone.

In a practice session during our course, our engine broke down and no one in our boat could fix it. We anchored in Puerto Galera, Mindoro and asked for the help of this solo sailor in a catamaran since he was nearest us.

He was sixtyish, strong and lean, with stringy blond hair, reeking of body odor, and fixed our engine in minutes in exchange for a beer. He spent his adult years working as an engine mechanic in a fishing boat in his native New Zealand but boarded a sailboat for the first time in his life when he bought his catamaran 2 years ago. He set off from France not knowing how to sail and figured everything out on the go. He had been sailing- by himself- for 2 years, just arrived from Thailand, encountered pirates in the Gulf of Aden which a support helicopter blew out of the water, was jailed for carrying a shotgun for protection which he picked up illegally in Turkey. He didn't know how to read night lights and his face registered an Aha moment when we told him what they mean. He wasn't just surviving- he looked like he was enjoying every minute of it. All of us taking this prestigious and expensive course were in awe of this man who went off to pursue a dream armed only with pure guts and determination.

With my Bareboat Skipper Course classmates and instructor
I will not compare the importance of proper sailing vs. writing classes because there is an element of danger to the former. But since I've never heard of anyone who has been killed for bad writing, I think I will ignore my mom's advice even if she is always right. I will allow myself a few days to mope over my rejection then just keep on writing and hope I figure everything out on the go. Maybe I will find out the meaning of verisimilitude along the way.



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