The Koi Pond Incident

Choosing the most embarrassing moment to write about is like trying to guess how many grains of sand are on a beach. Or which pair of Nikes are my favorite. Or which anime OP song I’d want played at my funeral. The more I think about it, the more my answer changes. Embarrassing, regretful moments outline the story that is my life. As condescending and sad as it sounds, I think I have more of these moments than I do accomplishments. I’m cool with the person I am right now for the most part, and I can honestly say I’m trying to improve myself. Therefore, writing this isn’t a painful upchuck of memory but more of a cathartic flashback. Like I said though, there are alot of options to write about -- so I decided on the earliest one I could remember.

Growing up Filipino in the southeastern part of the U.S. was a unique experience to say the least. It’s a clash of different cultures and accents. My vernacular and taste in food was very jumbled. Additionally, there aren’t many fellow Pinoys in this area of the country (save for a few exceptions). However, where there is civilization, there’s bound to be some Filipinos. The Fil-Am (Filipino American) community in Memphis isn’t as big as anywhere in the west coast, but it's a tight knit group. My Mom knows your Mom. My Dad works with your Uncle. My Sister goes to school with your Sister and so on. Some families are a little more popular than others. It might sound a little obnoxious to call it a social hierarchy, but some folks don’t get invited to the cookout as much. That wasn’t the case though at the Gallinato’s. They were throwing a get-together that rivalved Gatsby.

All the tell-tale signs of a Filipino party were present: minivans lining up the sidewalk, old men drinking beer in the garage, and a Karaoke machine vibrating the walls of the establishment. The amount of people packed into one house was crazy and definitely a fire hazard.

In a way, it was also a housewarming party. The Gallinatos had done major renovations throughout the home. There was new, modern tile that replaced the dingy ones that most suburbans houses had. A man cave was built for the men of the household. The kitchen was newly refurbished. But all of that paled in comparison to the real show stopper.

Outside in the backyard, there was a new koi pond.

A few things about the pond were unorthodox. It wasn’t as extravagant like the ones you might see in a Japanese garden. It was only a few feet wide and about a couple of feet deep. It was stunning however. There were green lily pads and flowers adorning the surface, and there was even a built in mini waterfall aligning the rear.

“It was on sale at Lowes,” Mr. Gallinato bragged.

Another quirky detail about the koi pond was that there weren’t any koi fish. Instead, about a dozen or so goldfishes resided inside of it. Yet, no one referred to it as a goldfish pond. for some reason. The fish were the family pets of the Gallinatos. Growing up and coming to their house, I had seen the fish as babies back when they started out in a modest tank. In a way, they too were showing off their newly refurbished home.

The pond was a hit. Everybody at the party paid a visit at least once. Us kids were especially enamored by it. I was 10 at the time, and I thought this was the peak of sophistication and backyard engineering -- compared to my backyard which only had grass. All of the kids were playing a fun game of hand fishing. They would stalk the water like grizzly bears and thrust their hands in to try to snag one. The fish weren’t particularly tiny, but everyone was grasping at water. No one had any luck.

I was a pretty clumsy and unathletic child. However, I watched the Crocodile Hunter religiously; I was determined to be the first.

“Don’t be an idiot,” my Mom gently warned me. Of course she said this in Ilicano and it wasn’t as nice sounding as it was in English. But she was in a good mood and wasn’t really wary about me doing anything stupid. So I made my way across the patio, through everyone lounging around in the grass, and to where all the kids were by the surface.

One by one we plunged our hands in the water like spears. I’m sure our ancestors were laughing at our lack of success. All the fish kept retreating to the center of the pond where a bed of flowers and lilies were providing shelter. If only there was some way to scare them out of hiding. Some kids had the brilliant idea of throwing pebbles from the pond into the center. However, that idea was cut short by a nearby adult. In hindsight, I wish he had done more.

It was then that I came up with the brilliant and tactical diversion plan. The other kids would scare the fish on one side while I attacked from behind. I would reach over and snag one unsuspecting fish right out of the water. We all came to agreement and took our positions. The other kids started splashing the water on sidem, drawing their attention. I took the opposite side.

It would’ve been a brilliant plan if I had the wingspan I currently had, and as soon as I leaned over in an attempt to grab the fish, I knew it was over.

I didn’t fall in slow motion like in the movies. It was quick and everyone’s reaction was too -- dead silence. Somehow the music even stopped. All of the kids were suddenly deeply intrigued by the sky. Mr. Gallinato had a slack jaw. Worst of all though, across the backyard and through the patio, I could see my Mom through the sliding door. As I sat in the water, I noticed she had the same expression that she still wears to this day sometimes: disappointed but not surprised.

I killed 6 of the fish. It was by far the worst day of my life up to that point. To top it all off, none of the Gallinatos were mad.

“Accidents happen,” they assured me.

My Mom and Dad weren’t the type to spank me or whip with me a belt. Instead, they would reprimand me vocally and with school work, which was sometimes worse.

The Gallinatos gave me a fresh change of clothes. My family didn’t want to leave yet though, so I sat in the corner of the house, smelling of pond water and murdered fish. I quickly became a pariah at the party; no one wanted to interact with me. Instead, I played with the dog and reluctantly ate some food until it was time to go home.

Now I’m 23, but that memory is still so vivid to me. I’m not sure why either. Sure, news spread quickly in the FilAm community. I was called ‘Fish Killer’ for some time. But most forgot after awhile, and whenever someone mentions the event, it’s always just to tease. And most of the teasing came from my sisters. Additionally, more embarrassing things have definitely happened to me since. I’ve crashed a car, failed to make the middle school basketball team (3 times), and I’ve been rejected by a girl. Yet, I always come back to it.

Maybe these kinds of moments happen for a reason -- a self lesson if you will. You’ll have embarrassing and regretful things happen to you. But it won’t be the end of the world.

Funny enough, a year later the Gallinatos decided to keep the pond devoid of fish. It might’ve been because of me, but they stated it was easier to maintain this way. As a funny (or sick depending on your viewpoint) way to celebrate my birthday, they gave me the remaining fish as a gift. I vowed to take care of them until they died; the only fitting way to atone for my mistakes.

Perhaps this is how we should view these moments -- an opportunity to bounce back. Up until we make the next mistake. For anyone reading this, I hope you take solace with my story. Don’t be afraid to make a fool of yourself. You’ll be fine in the end.

Also, be careful around ponds.