I learned the fine art of angling in Canberra, Australia, when I was in high school there (my mother was the Philippine Ambassador to that country from 1979 to 1981). Afer catching my first carp at Lake Burley Griffin, I was hooked, for life, really, and caught tons of carp thereafter from that beautiful, pristine lake set amidst the Australian bush.
However, now that I'm all grown up now (I'm 43 as of this writing) and back in my native Philippines I've got to admit that anglers Down Under are downright lucky to have such productive surroundings. They have barra up in Queensland, salmon fishing in Tasmania, some fantastic rock fishing along the New South Wales coast and great trout fishing along the Snowy River in the Snowy Mountains.
Here in the good ol' Philippines, anglers face a great struggle to catch fish, as they are frequently beat to the door by those who make their living from it. This is a picture of a "dalag" or "snakehead" fish I caught right on a small creek by the pathway leading to the College of Fine Arts at the University of the Philippines at Diliman, Quezon City. As the picture shows, however, a determined angler can still catch fish in the overfished Philippines; proving that where there's a will, there's still a way. But more on that, later.
With a population of 100 million made up of mostly economically disadvantaged people, fishing for fun takes second priority to ekeing out a living in this country. What this mostly means is that the majority of people fish for food to augment a slim diet. On a practical basis, this means is that a lot if local aquatic ecosystems are wiped out by poor people who stake out every square metere of water and resort to a variety of techniques that people in the West would be horrified at. For example, undersized fish are routinely caught and -- and rather than returned to the water to grow -- are kept and thrown into the pot to make tasty Philippine sour soup called "paksiw" or "sinigang." Electrocution of fish using car batteries is another technique used to wipe out entire schools of fish as is also dynamite fishing. Fish culture in plastic cages in lakes result in fish pellets and antibiotics leaking into the entire ecosystem and kill fish in the entire body of water. It's not the fault of the people that unsustainable techniques are used when their corrupt leaders continually let them down; forcing them into a vicious cycle of poverty and short-term solutions (to fill their hungry bellies) such fish electrocution or dynamite fishing.
While the solution is a change in leadership from the top all the way to the bottom through the continous and aggressive intervention of an enlightened citizenry; we're not about to see a whole lot of that anytime soon, as these things take time and patience. As the Americans have discovered in Iraq and Afghanistan, nation building is hard, takes generations to achieve, and needs political will, both from the top-down and bottom-up to address fundamental issues. We've obtained our independence from the U.S.A. since 1946, but this country is still poor, corrupt, and more importantly, the vast majority of its ctizens are overly tolerant of the status quo. I've written about rage elsewhere in "The Roving Eye," and I tell you, there's not enough of it in this country. I wish there was enough of it to rock the world of that tin-pot despot "President" Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, but she's banking on the fact that the more ambitious segment of our society has emigrated to seek a better life outside the Philippines (that's at least 10% of our population); leaving behind a passive, cowed population run by a ruthless greedy guts military, political and business elite who couldn't care less about spreading the wealth.
None of this was on my mind yesterday, (a Sunday) however. As I slipped down the embankment on the side road leading to Fine Arts, I had nothing but fishing on my mind. A stressful week of turning over my responsibilities as General Manager of Sanctuary Real Estate Development Corporation to my replacement (I remain as President, however) made me yearn for natural surroundings and a place to practice "zen" fishing - or fishing to attain true tranquility and peace of mind. I was actually headed towards the Lakeshore, Mexico, Pampanga late in the afternoon to fish there, when I decided to try the University of the Philippines (a tougher nut to crack than Lakeshore, because the fish are far fewer and warier, as the water is really shallow) at the last minute. I'm glad I did.
I put together a simple number 2 hook outfit with a single bullet-shaped lead sinker and a swivel as a stopper, and a single earthworm as bait. I was dressed in a dark T-shirt and dark blue jeans so as not to present any alarming profiles over the horizon (this can scare away the fish). And lobbed the bait over the to the other side. I waited patiently, watching for the line to tighten. After about thirty minutes, it did and I let more line run out by opening the bail of my reel. And then I struck.
Fish!
A fish was on the end of my line, and putting up a monumental struggle that sent shock waves throughout the little creek. I had probably scared away the rest of the fish there, but I had my fish and I had succeeded in obtaining my piece of mind in the beautiful, idyllic surroundings of the University of the Philippines (U.P.) at Diliman (where I graduated from).
The commotion attracted the attention of bystanders, including one who approached me and engaged me in conversation for the better part of an hour on the the topic of religion (it was, after all a Sunday, and I hadn't gone to church for months, so I admit my resistance crumbled). Turned out he was a lay preacher, so I got an earful about how "all forms of government are from Satan. The only true government is God's." Admittedly, that's not a very practical outlook for those of us who believe that imperfect governments can continue to be improved upon on this here Planet Earth. Hell (if you'll excuse the term), I was only in U.P. that day not to save Humanity from itself, but just to do a little recreational angling. Besides, it was already getting dark, and I wanted to go home.
How could I extricate myself gracefully from the situation without offending a representative (of God's?) on a Sunday afternoon?
I thrust the dalag in his hands, and said, "Here. It's yours. It's my gift to you. Just hold it so I can take a picture of the dalag for my readers in my blog, "The Roving Eye." He agreed and allowed me to take a picture of his hand holding the dalag, although he refused to let me take a picture of the rest of his body and his face; for fear, he said, of reprisals from the government of Preisdent Arroyo for supporting a government of God's and not one run by People.
"I will make a sinigang soup from this fish," he added, shaking my hand and smiling.
We parted as friends.
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