I am Iskoh, also known as Francis, and I am an 11-year old coffee drinker. I am writing this blog to share with you the rambling thoughts of an 11-year old by way of short essays:
The neighborhood basketball court
I like hanging around at our neighborhood basketball court. This is where most of my close friends like to hang out, too. Even if we are not playing any basketball game we still like it here because here everybody speaks the same language. No adults are around to keep nagging you about homework. No girls who speak only girl talk and other girl stuff. Just us guys having a common bond, having a common language.
It is also a place of fond memories. In this court I met my best friend and buddy Gerald. It’s funny though how we got to be friends because we were members of opposing teams at the time we first met. I guess it’s true that sports can really bring out good sportsmanship and in my case lasting friendship.
When I had my first basketball game here, I remember, my teammates playing with me on the court, my mom and dad cheering for me in the stands, my little sister eagerly watches me from the sideline like she is a cheerleader. I remember the moment I held the ball in my hands. I felt a feeling in my hands that I wanted to shoot the ball. When I shot the ball, the ball came out of my hands and into the basket, I remember my teammates congratulating me when I made the decisive shot. It felt good to be a star. I remember after the game, everybody I know in the neighborhood congratulated me on how I played so well. Ever since that I thought to become a basketball player when I grow up. Yes, I also realize that I still need a lot of growing up to do, a lot of schooling yet to finish. A lot of homework yet to worry about and of course a lot of basketball playing, too. Who knows my dream may one day come true.
My Favorite Dog
Cindy is a Japanese spitz, or so we’re told. She might have come from some spitz bloodline but she really is a mutt. She is just a product of many bloodlines. Anyway, purebred or not she is still my favorite dog. She has been a member of our family for almost eleven years now and in dog years that’s very, very old.
She is my favorite dog because she sees me as the smartest kid around even if I just barely passed my latest math exam. To her I am also the kindest and gentlest even if I just kicked the neighbor’s cat. She might even think I have superpowers by producing bowls of food out of nowhere. Well, I think she is the one who has superpowers because my mom says she always knows when I am about to come home by perking up her ears and waiting eagerly by the door.
When I watch my favorite cartoon show on television she would always sit close to me. Never once did I hear from her, “Hey, do your homework kid” or “Tidy up your room.” All I feel from her is a quiet acceptance of who I am or what I do. I think she spoils me just as I spoil her, too.
Yup, Cindy and I have so many good times and fun times together. But in her eleven years she has seen better days. Maybe she has some kind of joint pain because now she can barely get up or climb the stairs. She is also beginning to lose her hearing and she has missing teeth, too. But still, she is a true and loyal friend by following me around wherever I go except upstairs. But still, she carries herself with dignity even in her old age. But still, I know the day of her passing will be sad day for me.
My Sony Playstation II
I received my Sony Playstation II as a birthday gift two years ago and since then my world would never be the same. This means that when I am playing a game, the rest of the world is ignored. I understand that this has been a cause of worry for most adults specially my parents. They worry that this might make a moron out of me. They worry about the level of violence in some games. They worry that I may not be able to differentiate a make believe world from reality.
I am writing this to calm my parents and to stop them from worrying. Little do most adults know that video games have a story to tell. Little do they know that playing a video game is no different from reading “Alice's Adventures in Wonderland” or the Harry Potter series. Except that in a video game the story changes from player to player. In fact, in a video game the player is both the story teller as well as the reader. There is an endless number of ways on how the story will go depending on one’s skills. But in the end, good conquers evil and I am the hero.
One game I recently played was Dragon Quest III. This is a story of an evil jester named Dhoulmagus turning King Trode’s Trodain castle to stone and steals an ancient scepter from the king’s secret chamber that gives him incredible power. The king is turned into a troll and his daughter Princess Medea into a horse. Everyone in the castle is turned to stone, except one boy, which is me, the lead player. The king, the princess, and I then flee the castle to hunt down Dhoulmagus and find a way to reverse the curse. On the way, we meet Yangus, a hardened criminal turned good, Jessica, a witty and gorgeous noble, and Angelo, a smooth talking temple knight. Together, we chase the dreaded Dhoulmagus across the world and try to unravel his motives. You see, it is just like reading any fantasy books except that I am in control of the flow of the story. To make a long story short, Dhoulmagus was eventually defeated, good conquers evil and yet again I am the hero.
Liling
Liling is a delicately pretty little girl of five. She has an older brother named Buloy. They live in a rickety shack at the outer boundary of the housing subdivision where we used to live. This thing they call home is but a jumble of metal sheets, plywood pieces and other plastic rubbish. I often go there to play with them if they are not doing their rounds of collecting more rubbish which they would later sell in a junkshop. Sometimes, I would help Buloy push around in the subdivision their three-wheeled wooden pushcart. This is their all-around vehicle to collect metal scraps, plastic bottles, old newspapers or anything that is recyclable.
One Saturday morning, after breakfast, I saw the pair pass by the house where we used to live. Since I have nothing else to do I joined them. While Liling daintily sat on the pushcart with her tiny hands clasping on the wooden rail, Buloy and I would happily sing at the top of our lungs: “Bote, bakal, diaryo!” It was fun watching what sort of junk a housemaid would dish out. It was even more fun watching Buloy haggle over what price to pay for the junk. Buloy could be about my age but he has this wisdom of a grown-up man who knows the ways of the recycling world.
We were about to enter into another housing subdivision adjacent to ours when a huge black dog with tiny ears and bobtail came rushing towards the metal fence inside one of the push houses and belched out a thunderous woof towards us. This gave little Liling a trembling startle and she started to cry. I assured her there is no way that big black dog could come near us. Buloy just gave her a big-brother smile and this made her a bit more calm and smiled back at him. Buloy’s game plan that morning was actually to go beyond the subdivision complex and into the highway. I told him my mother will not allow me to go that far and that I will just wait for them when they get back.
It was about an hour after lunch when the two passed by the house again. I didn’t know if they had lunch at all but I was curious what sort of knick- knacks they have collected so I joined them again as they headed to that shack they call home. As we pushed towards the outer boundary of the subdivision we saw some kind of commotion. There were huge trucks and a bulldozer. It was only when we got nearer did I realize that their home was being demolished along with all the other shanties in the area. I felt sad and I almost cried. Liling did not seem to grasp how unhappy their situation was. But Buloy was taking it all with resignation as if this had happened before and said: “I guess Liling, mother and I will have to sleep the night in our pushcart.”
Early morning the following day, I rushed towards the subdivision boundary to where the shanties used to be but I did not find them there. I asked around and someone told me they were out scouting for other places to build a new shack. But from then on I have never heard from them again and my family, too, moved to another city in another housing subdivision.
Superhero Wannabe
I, like most kids, would like to have superpowers so I can zap the bad guys and uphold justice. But I’ve heard that almost all superheros, including Harry Potter himself, are orphans. I would not want to become an orphan just yet. No, not anytime soon. All I want are superpowers. The power to fly, the power to emit laser beams from my eyes. But then again, maybe one does not need superpowers to be a superhero. Batman, for example, cannot fly on his own. He cannot even start fire thru his stare nor emit lightning bolts from his hands. All he’s got is an agile body, maybe he trained a lot, and loads of gizmos and gadgets at his disposal.
But still it would be cool to have superpowers that can be explained by super physics or superpowers explained by magic. I have read that most Philippine epic heroes of legends have magical powers. My only unease with Filipino epic heroes is that they all seem too preoccupied with finding girls to marry. At my age I am not too worried about girls, not that I don’t fancy them. Anyway, my only wish right now is to wake up one morning and find myself floating above my bed, able to hear what others are thinking and be able to influence minds and actions of people to do good. Now, that would be cool!
The neighborhood basketball court
I like hanging around at our neighborhood basketball court. This is where most of my close friends like to hang out, too. Even if we are not playing any basketball game we still like it here because here everybody speaks the same language. No adults are around to keep nagging you about homework. No girls who speak only girl talk and other girl stuff. Just us guys having a common bond, having a common language.
It is also a place of fond memories. In this court I met my best friend and buddy Gerald. It’s funny though how we got to be friends because we were members of opposing teams at the time we first met. I guess it’s true that sports can really bring out good sportsmanship and in my case lasting friendship.
When I had my first basketball game here, I remember, my teammates playing with me on the court, my mom and dad cheering for me in the stands, my little sister eagerly watches me from the sideline like she is a cheerleader. I remember the moment I held the ball in my hands. I felt a feeling in my hands that I wanted to shoot the ball. When I shot the ball, the ball came out of my hands and into the basket, I remember my teammates congratulating me when I made the decisive shot. It felt good to be a star. I remember after the game, everybody I know in the neighborhood congratulated me on how I played so well. Ever since that I thought to become a basketball player when I grow up. Yes, I also realize that I still need a lot of growing up to do, a lot of schooling yet to finish. A lot of homework yet to worry about and of course a lot of basketball playing, too. Who knows my dream may one day come true.
My Favorite Dog
Cindy is a Japanese spitz, or so we’re told. She might have come from some spitz bloodline but she really is a mutt. She is just a product of many bloodlines. Anyway, purebred or not she is still my favorite dog. She has been a member of our family for almost eleven years now and in dog years that’s very, very old.
She is my favorite dog because she sees me as the smartest kid around even if I just barely passed my latest math exam. To her I am also the kindest and gentlest even if I just kicked the neighbor’s cat. She might even think I have superpowers by producing bowls of food out of nowhere. Well, I think she is the one who has superpowers because my mom says she always knows when I am about to come home by perking up her ears and waiting eagerly by the door.
When I watch my favorite cartoon show on television she would always sit close to me. Never once did I hear from her, “Hey, do your homework kid” or “Tidy up your room.” All I feel from her is a quiet acceptance of who I am or what I do. I think she spoils me just as I spoil her, too.
Yup, Cindy and I have so many good times and fun times together. But in her eleven years she has seen better days. Maybe she has some kind of joint pain because now she can barely get up or climb the stairs. She is also beginning to lose her hearing and she has missing teeth, too. But still, she is a true and loyal friend by following me around wherever I go except upstairs. But still, she carries herself with dignity even in her old age. But still, I know the day of her passing will be sad day for me.
My Sony Playstation II
I received my Sony Playstation II as a birthday gift two years ago and since then my world would never be the same. This means that when I am playing a game, the rest of the world is ignored. I understand that this has been a cause of worry for most adults specially my parents. They worry that this might make a moron out of me. They worry about the level of violence in some games. They worry that I may not be able to differentiate a make believe world from reality.
I am writing this to calm my parents and to stop them from worrying. Little do most adults know that video games have a story to tell. Little do they know that playing a video game is no different from reading “Alice's Adventures in Wonderland” or the Harry Potter series. Except that in a video game the story changes from player to player. In fact, in a video game the player is both the story teller as well as the reader. There is an endless number of ways on how the story will go depending on one’s skills. But in the end, good conquers evil and I am the hero.
One game I recently played was Dragon Quest III. This is a story of an evil jester named Dhoulmagus turning King Trode’s Trodain castle to stone and steals an ancient scepter from the king’s secret chamber that gives him incredible power. The king is turned into a troll and his daughter Princess Medea into a horse. Everyone in the castle is turned to stone, except one boy, which is me, the lead player. The king, the princess, and I then flee the castle to hunt down Dhoulmagus and find a way to reverse the curse. On the way, we meet Yangus, a hardened criminal turned good, Jessica, a witty and gorgeous noble, and Angelo, a smooth talking temple knight. Together, we chase the dreaded Dhoulmagus across the world and try to unravel his motives. You see, it is just like reading any fantasy books except that I am in control of the flow of the story. To make a long story short, Dhoulmagus was eventually defeated, good conquers evil and yet again I am the hero.
Liling
Liling is a delicately pretty little girl of five. She has an older brother named Buloy. They live in a rickety shack at the outer boundary of the housing subdivision where we used to live. This thing they call home is but a jumble of metal sheets, plywood pieces and other plastic rubbish. I often go there to play with them if they are not doing their rounds of collecting more rubbish which they would later sell in a junkshop. Sometimes, I would help Buloy push around in the subdivision their three-wheeled wooden pushcart. This is their all-around vehicle to collect metal scraps, plastic bottles, old newspapers or anything that is recyclable.
One Saturday morning, after breakfast, I saw the pair pass by the house where we used to live. Since I have nothing else to do I joined them. While Liling daintily sat on the pushcart with her tiny hands clasping on the wooden rail, Buloy and I would happily sing at the top of our lungs: “Bote, bakal, diaryo!” It was fun watching what sort of junk a housemaid would dish out. It was even more fun watching Buloy haggle over what price to pay for the junk. Buloy could be about my age but he has this wisdom of a grown-up man who knows the ways of the recycling world.
We were about to enter into another housing subdivision adjacent to ours when a huge black dog with tiny ears and bobtail came rushing towards the metal fence inside one of the push houses and belched out a thunderous woof towards us. This gave little Liling a trembling startle and she started to cry. I assured her there is no way that big black dog could come near us. Buloy just gave her a big-brother smile and this made her a bit more calm and smiled back at him. Buloy’s game plan that morning was actually to go beyond the subdivision complex and into the highway. I told him my mother will not allow me to go that far and that I will just wait for them when they get back.
It was about an hour after lunch when the two passed by the house again. I didn’t know if they had lunch at all but I was curious what sort of knick- knacks they have collected so I joined them again as they headed to that shack they call home. As we pushed towards the outer boundary of the subdivision we saw some kind of commotion. There were huge trucks and a bulldozer. It was only when we got nearer did I realize that their home was being demolished along with all the other shanties in the area. I felt sad and I almost cried. Liling did not seem to grasp how unhappy their situation was. But Buloy was taking it all with resignation as if this had happened before and said: “I guess Liling, mother and I will have to sleep the night in our pushcart.”
Early morning the following day, I rushed towards the subdivision boundary to where the shanties used to be but I did not find them there. I asked around and someone told me they were out scouting for other places to build a new shack. But from then on I have never heard from them again and my family, too, moved to another city in another housing subdivision.
Superhero Wannabe
I, like most kids, would like to have superpowers so I can zap the bad guys and uphold justice. But I’ve heard that almost all superheros, including Harry Potter himself, are orphans. I would not want to become an orphan just yet. No, not anytime soon. All I want are superpowers. The power to fly, the power to emit laser beams from my eyes. But then again, maybe one does not need superpowers to be a superhero. Batman, for example, cannot fly on his own. He cannot even start fire thru his stare nor emit lightning bolts from his hands. All he’s got is an agile body, maybe he trained a lot, and loads of gizmos and gadgets at his disposal.
But still it would be cool to have superpowers that can be explained by super physics or superpowers explained by magic. I have read that most Philippine epic heroes of legends have magical powers. My only unease with Filipino epic heroes is that they all seem too preoccupied with finding girls to marry. At my age I am not too worried about girls, not that I don’t fancy them. Anyway, my only wish right now is to wake up one morning and find myself floating above my bed, able to hear what others are thinking and be able to influence minds and actions of people to do good. Now, that would be cool!
