My Biggest Mistake

It started quite subtly last week. Ate Cary asked me if I wanted to go to C-4 on Saturday. It was Tuesday. Being a “good little cross cultural learner” of course I said yes. “What is C-4?” only returned vague answers about exercise. Hey, I like exercise, and I need it what with all the food I’ve been eating. Mistake. I should have realized they were way too excited about this. Then the instructions start coming. We will get you at 6. Wear work out clothes. 6am? What? I didn’t ask for that. So I drag my groggy self out of bed at 5:45, and climb into a jeepney. Early morning, no shower, slightly grumpy me in a confined space with too many Filipinos is no way to start the day. And then we show up at C-4. It’s a bus terminal. With a little public park. And a brilliant view of Manila Bay. Gorgeous. Except, there are about 300 filipinos in the little park area. Most of them are women over the age of 30. And there’s a stage with a 20 year old guy who looks waaay too excited for what is now 7am. Aerobics. Are you serious? Aerobics? But don’t get me wrong, the fact that I hate aerobics is nowhere near the worst part of this. We stand in the front. I am anywhere from a half a head to a full head taller than all 300 filipina women who are now staring at me. I beg to move to the back, and we move about 20 feet to the side. Everyone watches me awkwardly try to keep up with too fast techno music and commands shouted in a language I don’t understand. The announcer/trainer guy even calls out, “Come on, Joe!” Laughter. A man with a camera phone tries to get my picture. Internally, I die as every last shred of dignity and cultural composure is trampled on the ground. We dance/kick/sidestep faster. I almost laugh as my brain turns over how funny this might be later. Almost. More people gather to watch me, little kids stare, and I start to sweat profusely as the humidity rises with the Manila sun. No more laughter from me. I beg off continuing with the second session (tae-bo), and “quit” for the first time all summer. Another cramped jeepney ride home, this time in dejection and sweat. At least, for the first time all summer, I enjoyed my cold bucket shower.