Papa, Teach me How to Swim!

Yes, today's Theme Thursday is water, the stuff we really cannot live without. H2O, the universal solvent with unusual properties, ice floats and I don't. Today I'll share with you a story from my childhood with a couple of old family photos involving me and my family's pool.

It was a beautiful warm day in July and everyone, and I mean everyone, came over to my parent's home to swim in the pool. All of my uncles and aunts and grandparents were there and all my young cousins, so about 30 people. (All four grandparents, my mother's siblings, all 11 and their spouses and children, and my father’s three siblings. 30 is now the number of cousins I have, and counting.) The smell of charcoal and grilling meat mingled with the chlorine and the sweet scent of honeysuckle that grew all along the neighbors’ fence with a hint of the roses my grandmother planted nearby.

I can hear Spanish music streaming out from one of my uncles portable radios, the splashing of another young uncle diving into the pool, the screaming of an aunt as water splashes into her eyes followed by an exchange of angry words in Spanish. My mother and a couple of my older aunts sit in the jacuzzi, bubbles fizzing upward and spilling over a small waterfall into the main pool, the same corner my cousins and siblings were hanging out in, floating there in our colorful inflatable rings and most importantly, next to our mothers.It is in this corner that I begged my father to show me how to swim and repeatedly received the answer, "take off your donut." I refused and after futile begging got out of the pool. My father, an average height man with black curly hair and a mustache, seemed really tall from where I stood. He was wearing his regular green swimming shorts and his favorite pair of huaraches (Mexican leather sandals with tire treads for the soles). He squinted in the high sun as he manned the grill. Asking for a hot dog wrapped in a tortilla I jumped out of the pool to eat followed by everyone else. The blue pool was empty and bounced the reflective sunlight everywhere.

Now the hardest part of the day had arrived. "Don't jump into the pool after you eat. You have to wait an hour," one of the aunts said. My cousin Julio and I being the eldest at six years old didn't understand why we had to wait and couldn’t explain it to the younger ones. So we waited, taking turns asking, "Now?" in our high pitched whining impatient voices. After being yelled at not to ask again otherwise we wouldn't be allowed back into the pool I proceeded to follow my father. "Can you teach me how to swim now? I mean when we can go back in?"

In my little head I don't know how many times I asked or begged but I could see that I was driving my father crazy. He now had his green and white Hawaiian shirt on and I can see his dark eyes looking down at me from behind his glasses. Uh oh, I was going to be punished. Embracing myself for a spanking he did something unexpected but expected. Off with the donut and in the air I went followed by a large splash. I was sinking to the bottom of the pool in my favorite little corner. I didn't panic but just sat at the bottom and stared up at my father and my father looking back down at me. Making a face he turns to look over at everyone and takes his shirt off. He jumps in and picks me up. Gasping for air he asks,” are you OK?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

Before I move on with the story I need to say this, my father is not a monster. He was there along with a ton of adults and was not going to let me drown. He truly believes that if someone is thrown in the water, particularly children, they will instantly learn how to swim. After all, it’s how he learned. I don’t think this is a horrible memory but a neat one. It’s still very vivid in my head perhaps because it was a little traumatic, but nonetheless a nice memory.

I was in my mother's arms. There's some commotion about how else is she suppose to learn how to swim, and she's alright, and some other yelling in Spanish. I remember being angry for a while at my father and at myself, not at the fact that he threw me in but at the fact he wasn't in the pool with me teaching me how to swim. I wasn't scared of the pool or water after that. I continue to jump in with my donut and play with my siblings and cousins.
The fear came a little later that year when autumn had come along. The sweet honeysuckle and roses were no longer in bloom. I tiptoed outside with my sister to peer into the pool for no reason other than to do it. I fell in fully clothed. My grandfather fished me out. I was forced to learn how to swim in high school and passed my swimming exam; tread water for x minutes, float on your back, free stroke and back stroke, but ask me to do those things now and I'll say no. I don't like pools and don't like the ocean. I'll admire them but that's about it, I won't go in.

My husband took me to the island he grew up on, Oahu, a couple of years ago. It was great. He convinced me to buy a bikini and go to Waikiki. He took me out and showed me how to float and took me out further where treading was necessary. I couldn't do it. I panicked and held on to him as tight as possible. (I’m so glad he’s six feet tall.) He rolled his eyes and took me back to the beach. The scenic views of the ocean and Diamond Head and the green lush hills didn't calm me down, being on solid ground did. I bummed my husband out a little.

Now, I'm looking into adult swim lessons but haven't been successful. I'll keep looking; I have to beat this fear. I'll learn how to swim. I will.

Thanks to my friend Mike Z. who scanned the photos for me. Thanks buddy.

Photos

1. My father in the upper left hand corner. Me clinging on and nearly completely out of water in the lower left hand corner. Sister, brother, and cousin in the pool.
   
2. Me dry and safe inside, younger cousins behind me.