CRAZY STUFF: A THROWBACK TO THE WANDER YEARS! =D / JANUARY 18,1998

I remember the date. I had just turned 27. I was single, unattached. I had money to burn. What better time to do some crazy thing?! Haha. 'D

Halfway through merienda, I told the Parents that I was going off to Batangas early the following day. No biggie. Back then, I would regularly go to Anilao with friend Carmi and a bunch of other folks from the office. Weekends in Batangas were par for the course.

"Anilao na naman kayo? Sino kasama mo? Sila Carmi?"

Dang! I was hoping they wouldn't ask. (Those who know me well would know I'm NOT a very good liar. =))

"Uh, nope. Si Lovie. Si Pao. Si Rob...."

"Ah....Ano gagawin niyo?"

Argh! Dear God, I'm not going to get away with this too easily, am I?

"Uh....we're...uh...taking flying lessons."

"Flying lessons?! Sino magtuturo sa inyo?! Saan kayo kukuha ng eroplano?!"

"Uh.....there's this airstrip in Batangas. We're going on light planes...." I managed to choke out before my voice trailed off. The entire time I was looking down at my plate.

From my peripheral vision, I felt Mother looking at me suspiciously. 27 years of experience has taught her something was up. For a split second, I thought she was going to put her foot down and say no. Then, I suppose, she just decided against it. She either chose to think I was old enough or she decided she didn't want to argue.

"Di ko maintindihan ang mga balak mo sa buhay. Bahala ka nga! Flying lessons, flying lessons...hay!" she grumbled, shaking her head, before going down the steps to the dirty kitchen.

I tossed and turned that night, barely getting any sleep. I remember praying a single prayer from the time I laid in bed to the time we finally got to Batangas. "Dear God, I'd rather die than get maimed and paralyzed so if something is going to go awry, just kill me. I'm not kidding. Just kill me instantly! BUT my prayer, really is this. Please have mercy on me. Let me get out of this alive and whole. I want to be able to live to tell." HAHAHA!!! 'D

And so it goes that early Sunday morn, before anyone was up, I sneaked out of House Better, and drove my trusty UL*45* City to the old Shell Station along the SLEX where the gang was supposed to meet up. We got to Batangas soon enough. (See, this is the problem with writing about an experience more than 10 years later. I cannot, for the life of me, remember what the name of the airstrip was! Naku! Haha. =))

We arrived to find 10 or so people there, most of them serious "jumpers". There was Jenny, only 15 years old, with her American father talking animatedly about the fall she took last week when she miscalculated and landed near the trees. "Her mom almost killed me..." he exclaimed, as he regaled everyone with his domestic tales.

A Chinese-looking guy disengaged himself from the group and wheeled himself toward Robert, grinning from ear to ear.

"Pare! You brought fresh blood!" he cried out, before turning to us.

"Nigel," he said, as he extended his hand to us and smiled, "I'll be your instructor for the day."

"Nice shirt," I said, choosing to ignore the fact that he was in a wheelchair. "Not exactly the best shirt to be wearing on a day like this, but it's nice shirt," I continued before shaking his hand.

He laughed.

If the main chute does not open,

OPEN YOUR RESERVE.

If the reserve chute does not open,

GO TOWARD THE LIGHT.

"I had a bad landing a month ago. In U.P." he continued, still chuckling, "You must have heard about it in the news or read about it in the papers."

My memory clicked. Yup, I did hear about that one. How they were supposed to jump into the Sunken Garden as part of an airshow for a University celebration, only to be blown against the trees when the wind changed directions. The newspaper reports said the skydiver had a badly fractured spine.

"So that's you!" I cried out.

"Yup," he exclaimed, "they tell me I have a next to zero chance of being able to walk again. 'Told my doctor no way. 'Told him to give me six months. I can beat this. Darn it, I will walk again. If only to get another chance to fly."

His optimism was admirable; his can-do attitude contagious. Made me temporarily forget the fact that I was getting skydiving lessons from someone who may not be able to walk again because of a recent skydiving accident! Stupid, stupid girl. Haha! 'D

"So, who among you newbies will be jumping today?" Nigel asked, rubbing his palms briskly.

Pao and I raised our hands as Lovie shook her head. "I'm just here to take the pictures and shoot the video," she sheepishly explained.

"Fair enough," Nigel replied. "Pao, T&T, meet Eric and Joel. They too will be jumping for the first time today."

"So, why are you doing this?" I asked, initiating small talk, in a desparate attempt to shake off my nerves.

"I'm afraid of heights," Eric replied, "I want to conquer my fear."

I looked at him incredulously, "Couldn't you have started by riding a ferris wheel?!"

Joel and Pao laughed. Ice broken. The easy banter, I suppose, eased the tension hidden within. We, after all, were all going to jump off a plane that day. FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME. We were all probably scared shitless, but we must all pretend that we weren't. Haha.

Skydiving back then cost me PhP 7,000. That's includes half-a-day's worth of training, plus your first jump. Yes, you read it right. We only trained for half a day. Haha. And banish all thoughts of those high-tech air chambers that you see on the Discovery Channel. We trained on a chute harness that hung on a metal bar! HAHAHA!!! 'D It did, however, at least attempt to simulate our experience while in flight. (If you look closely at the pic below, you'd see Pao hanging from the harness strapped to the metal bar. Yes, training was that high-tech. Hahaha! 'D)

We were told that if after the 1st jump, we decide that we want to go up again, the succeeding jumps will cost P1,600 per. If ever, it'll be our share in the plane fuel.

"Ba, pamura pala ng pamura buhay natin 'no!" someone exclaimed (I forget now who), which again set off boisterous, albeit nervous laughter. It wasn't my concern though. No matter how much I enjoyed it, I told myself I will only do it once. If I survived the first time, I have resolved--against my nature--not to push my luck. Hahaha!

Nigel introduced us to The Colonel who was going to be our jumpmaster. He reassured us that despite all the hype, almost no one has ever died from a jump. "There is a 99.999999999% chance you will survive," he said before he continued, "Meron ngang reporter sa ABS-CBN na tumalon para sa show lang. Sa sobrang takot, hinimatay mid-air. Pag-land niya, unconscious siya. Pero, nabali lang ang ribs niya. Di siya namatay." Uhhhhhh....yup. That really sounds reassuring....now back to my prayer the night before.....HAHAHA! 'D

There are a few important things we must remember, he said:

1. Unlike the old, round WWII chutes, the chutes now are maneuverable. You can pull on either rope (held on each hand), depending on where you want to go. If you want to go to the left, pull the left rope. If you want to go to the right, pull the right rope. How far you pull the rope down determines the sharpness of your turn. If you only want to turn slightly, pull the rope quarter-way. If you want to do a sharp turn, pull the rope all the way.
2. Because it is your first jump, we will attach a radio to you. Through the radio, we will give you instructions so you can land safely. If we say pull right, pull right. If we say pull left, pull left. We will guide you towards hitting the drop zone.
3. At 100 feet above air, you must be in a position to land already. You must land against the wind. You must land facing the wind. The wind will become your natural brake. Do NOT land with the wind at your back, because if you do so, you will be accelerating instead of decelerating. We don't want you hitting the ground at breakneck speed.
4. Because it is your first jump, I will throw the drag chute for you. (The drag chute is this tiny, tiny mini-parachute that will create enough resistance against the wind after one jumps off the plane. The pull will then trigger the release of the main chute.) But yes, you will jump alone.
5. You must jump off the plane SIDEWAYS. In preparation, you must position yourself at the plane door. Half of your body must be in the plane. The other half must be out. This is the point of decision. When I give you the thumbs-up sign, you can either nod your head and jump out OR you can shake your head and sit down. If you decide NOT to jump, we will simply take you back down on the plane. There is no shame in saying no if you're not ready.



6. If you do decide to go, you must immediately form an X-position with your body as soon as you jump out. This is the best position to create resistance so you can hold a steady position against the wind. At ground level, you think of the wind as a breeze. At 4,000 feet above ground, trust me, you will feel the wind. Unless you create enough drag against it, the wind will knock you around.
7. As soon as you jump out, I always advise 1st-timers to count up to 9. Why 9? Because 9 seconds is the average time for the main chute to fully open once the drag chute has been thrown. Let's practice counting....(Children, all together now! =)) "One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand, four-one thousand, five-one thousand, six-one thousand, seven-one thousand, eight-one thousand, nine-one thousand..." Again! "One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand...."
8. If the chute does not open after nine-one thousand, it means it will not likely open. If your main chute does not open, DON'T PANIC. (Thought balloon: How could I not?! Visions of Nigel's shirt were swimming in my head. Good grief. Haha.) You must keep enough sense within you to cut off the ropes of the main chute first before releasing the reserve chute. The reserve chute is there to save you. You don't want it being entangled with the main chute. Use the mini-knife on your harness. Let's practice how you're going to cut the ropes and initiate the reserve...
9. If your main chute opens, but the ropes are tangled or the chute is askew, pump continuously until it corrects itself. When I say pump, pull both ropes (held on each hand) up and down. Simultaneously. Continuously. If your main chute refuses to correct itself, do #8.
10. If, for whatever reason, something happens mid-air and you are knocked unconscious, the reserve chute is programmed to release once the altometer hits 1,800 feet at a certain speed. Chutes these days are very smart. It knows when a jumper is in trouble.

"When all else fails, you have a final ray of hope. As jump master, I will jump off the plane LAST in case someone needs rescuing mid-air. The thing is," The Colonel said with a wink before continuing, "I can only rescue one person at a time."

Nigel laughed. Lesson over. Time to jump. Yey! 'D

Everyone rushed to get their gear, the entire time continuing the light banter. "Nakikita niyo yung kalabaw na yun?" Pao cried out, "Yun ang drop zone ko. La-land ako derecho sakay sa likod niya! Ha!" Everyone laughed.

I rushed on like everyone else, but Nigel stopped me before I could step onto the plane. "Uh, T&T, I think you would need to wear a weight vest. You're too light. You need to be heavier so you can hold yourself steady against the wind," he said as he handed me a vest that must have weighed a ton. The vest was soooooooooooo heavy, my knees almost buckled; I could barely walk. Probably seeing the concern and the question in my mind, both Nigel and The Colonel reassured me that it won't feel as heavy up there. They told me I probably won't even feel that I'm wearing one.

"You need it. Otherwise, we'd just wait for you to float down to the ground," Nigel said as he chuckled. Pao and I looked at Lovie and Rob. Both were grinning from ear to ear, waving. "I'm going on the next plane up," Rob cried out, "I want to see you guys land."

With that, we were off.

The adrenalin rushed soon after we boarded the plane and reached full speed as the plane ascended. There were no seats. Everyone sat on the floor until it was time for us to take our positions by the door. The regular jumpers were to go first. On the way up, they were very encouraging. The noise of the plane engine made any form of conversation impossible so we communicated mostly in sign/body languages. A smile here. A tap on the shoulder there. Two thumbs-up. Soon it was my turn. The Colonel pointed to me and signalled for me to take my position. (Man, I'm getting goosebumps and a queasy stomach even as I type this! Susko! And that's just from reminiscing! Haha! 'D)

Half my body in. Half my body out. The ground seemed like a long, long, looooooooong way down. Well, I was 4,000 ft above ground. It was literally a long way down. Oh, God.

Our jumpmaster gave me the look, matched by a thumbs-up. He was asking me if I will jump. Split second moment of terror. At that point, I fully understood the meaning of namatay nang dahil sa pride. There was absolutely no way I was going to go back down on the plane. Haha! 'D

"Don't panic, T&T," I thought, taking one deep breathe and blowing it out in an effort to calm myself. Mantra: must remember instructions....must remember instructions.....

With one nod, I jumped off the plane.

X-POSITION!

"One-one thousand! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Hahaha! Stupid weighs-a-ton weight vest apparently wasn't heavy enough! Nigel and The Coronel weren't kidding when they said I may be too light. I was literally tumbling through air, and the cool (or scary, depending on how adventurous you are) part about that was that I could not see anything but blue skies. No point of reference. I had no way of knowing if I was right-side-up or upside-down.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I continued screaming, even as my mind tried to make sense of what-one-thousand I should be in already. But there was no point in trying to continue my count. I had lost track and my mind was a blank. I kept on screaming until I was pulled back with a yank. My main chute had thankfully opened on time. I looked up, laughing with relief, to see a green and yellow canopy. It was neither tangled nor askew. YEY!!!!! 'D

For the next three minutes or so (although it did feel much, much (!) longer), I floated around in awe. At an altitude of 3,000-ft (yes, you drop quite fast without a chute =)), everything seems flat. It was like I was standing on top of a table with a map laid out before me. There were no shapes. Just green and brown spaces, broken by road lines. (If you click on the pic to make it larger, I'm the person hanging from the chute caught in the "valley" between the two clouds. I swear. That's me. Hahaha! 'D)

At 3,000-ft, there was also apparently no sound. The world below is too far. The only sounds I could hear were the soft crackling of the radio that was attached to my harness, and the constant flapping of my chute against the wind. Tak-tak-tak-tak-tak-tak-tak-tak-tak-tak-tak-tak...imagine the sound of a tent flapping. That's pretty much how the chute sounded.

Ironically, on my way up, I was prepared for the adrenalin rush, the screams and the noise. They don't call skydiving an extreme sport for nothing. What I was not prepared for was the the sense of peace. It was beyond quiet. At 3,000 feet, there was peace. (On cue: From a distance....haha. Sorry, I couldn't resist. =D) At 3,000 feet, you are alone with your thoughts, far removed from the world below.

From a distance, I could see the other jumpers suspended with their colorful chutes, but the Coronel and the pilot had been careful to put enough time and space between us. There was no way we could shout out and hear each other.

I enjoyed myself tremendously up there. I thought of myself as a puppet hanging from a string, slowly being brought down in the gentlest way possible. At a certain altitude, things began to slowly take shape. It was like having monopoly pieces rise up from the flat map that laid before me just minutes ago. Quite strangely, the sensation I felt at that point was that the ground was rising up to meet me, as opposed to me floating down to it.

Nigel's instructions crackled through the radio occasionally. He was guiding us toward the pre-agreed drop zone. "T&T, Quarter right....", "Pao, full turn....", "Eric, quarter left...", "Joel, just go straight..."...It was a one-way radio. OK, it was probably a two-way radio, but since both my hands were hanging on--literally!--for dear life (haha), there was no way I can communicate back to clarify. One must listen intently to the instructions and trust the person below.

Skydiving, I realized back then, is only terrifying on two distinct "oh-no-seconds". The first "Oh, no!" comes right before you decide to jump off the plane, half your body in, half your body out. The second hits you at about 100 feet above ground. The second "Oh, no!" happens as soon as you realize that you can't remain suspended forever, that, in a few seconds, you are going to hit ground, and that unless you do it correctly, you're going to be in for a crash landing.

Maybe it was this sudden realization that stirred a mild panic inside me. I could see the drop zone. I was heading straight toward it. Then I heard the radio crackle. Nigel's voice came on air. I thought he gave me a signal to pull left. I did, although I did not quite understand why he was asking me to do so. The drop zone was straight ahead. (It was only after the fact that I realized he was talking to someone else, not me. Ack!)

"T&T, pull right," Nigel's direction came crackling over the line. What-the....?! Didn't he ask me to pull left just a few minutes ago?! (It was only after the fact that I realized that he was correcting my position because I wasn't supposed to pull left in the first place! Haha. 'D)

I hesitated a bit, unsure of what he wanted me to do. In the meantime, trust me, 100 feet can go pretty fast--or at least it seemed like it can go pretty fast! Hahaha! 'D

"Pull right, T&T," Nigel repeated over the radio. I tried desperately, but I was having a hard time. I was landing against the wind and the gushing wind against my chute made it difficult for me to steer. Darn it, I was not only light, I was also a weakling! Haha.

I heard Nigel's voice over the radio, although admittedly, at that point, the only thing I could hear IN MY HEAD was "T&T, pull right!" I was still trying desperately to correct my position. Darn it! Stupid wind was too strong for me. I have to put more effort into it, I thought. I decided I was going to give it my all! With one big struggle, I managed to pull right! Thing is, because I put in too much effort, I ended up pulling all the way down! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

What did The Colonel say about what happens when you pull one rope all the way down? You take a sharp turn! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

So there I was I having visions of a Perfect 10 landing on the drop zone (with grace and flair), only to turn 90 degrees to the right at less than 100 feet! I realized as soon as I pulled all the way that I made a big mistake. No. Actually, not big. H.U.G.E!!! Instead of heading straight toward the drop zone, I took a sharp turn and headed for the trees!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

I was literally screaming as I raised my feet as high as I could, narrowly missing the highest branches.

And what did The Colonel say about what happens when you land with the wind instead of against it? You hit the ground at breakneck speed!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!! Hahaha! 'D

I did manage to attempt to brake by pumping both ropes repeatedly after I cleared the trees. For the record, I did manage to hit the ground with my two feet. I only enjoyed a split-second moment of relief though, because as soon as my feet hit the ground, I found myself tumbling repeatedly. Head. Butt. Feet. Head. Butt. Feet. Head. Butt. Feet.... I must have tumbled at least five times before I lost momentum and stopped on my back. I had landed, quite comically, not too far from the carabao that Pao pointed out before we went up.

I laid still for a moment. I was muddied. My helmet was askew. I was wearing a heavy parachute kit on my back, not to mention a vest that weighed a ton. The only thing I could hear was my breathing.

"OK, dear God. I am not dead," I remember thinking, "Since I prayed intensely last night, I hope this also means I am NOT paralyzed. This really isn't the time to teach me a lesson...." Hahaha! I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

I slowly wiggled my fingers. YEY!!! 'D

I gently tried to move my feet. First the left. YEY!!! 'D

Then the right. YEY!!! 'D

It was all I needed. I said a silent prayer of thanks as I turned my head slowly. At about the same moment, I saw Rob and a few of the other jumpers rushing through the trees towards me.

"Are you OK?!" he cried out before he could even reach me. "Don't move!"

"Even if I wanted to, I can't!" I shouted, "This darn vest weighs more than I do!"

"Darn it, T&T! You scared me!" he cried out as soon as he reached me, the entire time reminding me not to get up.

Wiggle your fingers. I already did. Move your feet. Done. Do you feel any pain? No, I don't. Are you sure? Yes, I am. Help me get up.

Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. I had survived. I had lived to tell. Granted, I barely lived to tell, but I did. Hahaha! 'D

Pao who jumped after me, rushed to me soon after he landed (perfectly, with flair, on the drop zone). He was doubled up in laughter, possibly mostly from relief at the sight of me standing. He had watched me steer off-course as he hung from the air. He claims he was screaming the entire time along with me. Hahaha! 'D

"M! (T&T's maiden family name. =)) Competitive ka talaga! Nagloloko lang naman ako nung sinabi kong magla-land ako sa likod ng kalabaw. Nilagyan mo pa ng level of difficulty. In-attempt mo pang kumabit sa puno!" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! 'D

That night, I heard the 8:30 p.m. mass at Magallanes to thank God for the fact that I was alive. They say the helmet, the heavy weight vest and the sturdy parachute kit may have actually protected me during the tumble,but I know better. The entire time, HE was The One protecting me from the one person who can do me most harm. Myself. Haha! 'D

I used to say that skydiving was one of those things I put on my list of Things-to-Do-Before-I-Die. I'm actually glad that I got to do it, but not before I died. I'm glad I got to do it before I became SENSIBLE. A mere decade later, I can't even imagine myself doing it all over again. And, yes, I can only laugh and shake my head over how foolhardy and stupid I was back then. Haha! 'D

Then again, darn it! I have quite a story to tell my grandchildren. Haha! 'D

******************************************************************

My body was sore and stiff for more than two whole weeks after my crash landing. After work, I would regularly go to my high school best friend, Mao, who was a doctor. "I told you not to jump from that plane! Nakinig ka ba?! Hindi! Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah....! Ano susunod mong gagawin?! Tatalon ka sa building?! Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah....." Despite all his incessant blubbering, I knew deep inside that he cared--at least enough to take me to the hospital in case I was really not OK. Haha! (For obvious reasons, I could not tell Mother who was also a doctor. I was too darn scared that she would kill me--after I survived the jump! Hahaha! 'D)

Quite recently, niece Patita jumped off from what must have been four or more steps up. I think she almost gave Sister Pusjing a heart attack.

"PATITA!" Sister Pusjing cried out in a stern voice,"IS THAT SAFE?!" (Yes, my sister is not one to just say "Don't do that!". She has to explain. Hahaha!)

Patita looked sufficiently apologetic. "No, Mom," she mumbled, looking down. Then, as if not being able to contain the feelings bubbling up inside her, she broke into a wide grin. "But, Mom," she continued as she chuckled, "it's fun!" Hahaha! 'D

Sister Pusjing rolled her eyes, then squinted, focusing her stare at me. I held my hands up, "Hey, don't look at me. I had nothing to do with that."

Deep inside, however, I was laughing. I, of course, had a single secret thought: "You go, girl!" HAHA! 'D