Episode 14:  LCpl Alfaro

October 4, 2004 8:45 a.m. (East Coast Time)
Camp Lejeune, North Carolina
By LCpl Sincioco
Revised on April 18, 2008

This story took place in Camp Lejeune.

"We are what we repeatedly do.  Excellence then, is not an act, but a habit."
—Aristotle (384-322 BC), Greek philosopher

[Cpl Alfaro wondered a few times what I wrote about him back home.  Often times, I'd be in front of my computer writing as he slept at night.  He asked me one time what I was doing.  I told him, writing an email about him.  He joked, "Probably bad stuff, huh, Sin?"  I just smiled and left him to wonder.  Nearly six months later, here it is, pretty much in its original version.  So wonder no more, my dear Corporal, and read what your roomie wrote about you.]

Introduction

Can someone who is older learn from someone who is younger?  My mom used to tell me, "The fool never learns from the wise, but the wise always learns from the fool."

A Word from the Wise

I once told Clackler that "Being a friend is not a title you wear; rather, it is what you are to the other person."  With that thought, I'd like to begin my next story...

Meet Lance Corporal Alfaro

What little I know of him at this point is this.  He is part Mexican, part Filipino and part Hawaiian.  Which lead me to ask, "So what are you then?  What do you fill in when you have to do paperwork?"  "I fill in Mexican, or sometimes Pacific Islander," he humorously replied.

He is 20 years old; a mere lad compared to my aging 27 self.  "Ancient" is what he once called me.  He is 5 foot and 11 inches in height.  So he towers me by an inch which makes him "pretty tall" in his own words.  He weights a mere 134 lbs and I may have insulted him a little when I called him "a walking toothpick" once.  But like me, he takes offense always with a smile.  Even bad days never seem so bad when it is hidden behind a smile.

The Sound of Music

Music, as I have come to understand and realize from Alfaro, can be a very powerful way to express yourself.  What you listen to and how loud you listen to it says a lot about your personality and mood.  Having played the violin for 8 years, Alfaro, to say the least, is musically inclined; and his appreciation for music is unique.  "I think because I played the violin I experience music differently than most people do," he once told me.  And I believe him.  But I can also experience things vicariously [felt or undergone as if one were taking part in the experience or feelings of another].  I need only to imagine myself in someone else's shoes to understand their sorrows and joys, I need not experience them first-hand.

He has a vast collection of music CDs which he is only eager to share.  Since music is a big part of his life, I came to understand that when he shares his music he is sharing more than just the music itself, but a part of himself.  He listens to music constantly.  I suppose you can say that is his form of escape.  We all have our forms of escape.  I write computer programs, he listens to music.  It's all one and the same.

Believe

One of the first songs I had the pleasure of listening with him was Yellowcard's "Believe" which has become one of my favorite songs.

Amazingly enough, the first 5-second opening of the song is a soloist playing a violin.  I think it might have been the day or the day after I met him when he asked, "You think we can go to a music store after work?"  I said, "Sure."  I thought to myself, "Yeah why not explore Jacksonville Mall together since I'm new in town too anyway."  So we drove in his car and to Jacksonville Mall we went.  He bought Yellowcard's and Fall Out Boy's CD that night.  An amazing thing happened; as we listen to the songs in his car I immediately liked them.  I mean, really like them.

I felt kind of guilty but I asked anyway, "You think I can get a copy of your CD?"  Mind you that with the kind of money I was making prior to joining the Marine Corp I never had a reason to borrow someone's stuff—unless it's my best friend Vincent's stuff—I usually buy my own.  So this was an exercise of humility that was relatively new for me.  And on top of that, I had the audacity to ask if I could make a copy of it.  It was a bold move, almost to the point of rudeness, really.  I had just met him, he had just bought a CD and there I was asking if I could make a copy of it after hearing it.

It is highly unusual for me to like a song after listening to it once.  I usually have to listen to a song many times for me to even begin to like it.  But some of the songs had an immediate connection with me.  And as the lyrics of the song reads, "Everything is going to be alright.  Be strong, believe."  Much to my surprise, Alfaro agreed.

Lunchables

One night (August 24), I was sound asleep in my rack when Alfaro came rushing in our room at around 1 o'clock in the morning.  He's always been polite and quiet about coming in the room when he does so late at night or early in the morning—I usually don't even notice him all that much when he does.  But that night he seemed like he was in a slight rush.  "I'm sorry Sin, but I got to turn on the lights since tomorrow is field day and I got to clean the windows," he said in a low tone voice as if still trying not to wake me up.  "Sure," I replied while I lay there half-awake on my rack.

Eventually I started to feel kind of guilty about sleeping while he field day, so I got up and asked if I could help.  "Go to sleep Sin, I'll take care of it, don't worry about it really," he insisted.  The ever polite, ever so "I'll take care of it" big-brother attitude is what I like about Alfaro.  I am the youngest among my siblings, so I've gotten used to trying to help to be helpful.  He is the oldest among his siblings so I'm sure he's used to taking care of his younger siblings which is why I call him my "big brother."

I got up to use the bathroom, washed my hands in the sink using the brass [faucet] he just polished, which I then made slightly dirty.  I took a paper towel to clean it while Alfaro once again reminded me to "hit the rack" and he'll take care of it.  Despite his insistence, I cleaned it on my own; and then I went to try to go back to sleep.

Later that evening, after we both hit the rack, I started to feel hungry.  "This sucks.  I'm feeling kind of hungry."  "I have lunchables in the fridge," he said.  "Lunchables?  What's that?" I asked.  "You've got to be kidding, you don't know what a lunchable is?" he asked in disbelief.  I said, "No, I don't know what a Lunchable is," I confirmed.  "No way, don't tell me that, Sin.  Are you serious?" he replied.  I said, "Yes!"  The next thing I knew, a pillow hit me.  I sat up and asked, "What did you do that for?"  "Go eat my lunchable," he ordered.  "Nah, I don't want to eat your food," I replied.  "No really, go eat my lunchable," he insisted jokingly but firmly.

I got up, turn on the lights and looked for the mighty lunchables in the fridge.  "Behold for I now have in my hands the ever so mighty, so delicious, so fulfilling lunchable!" so I thought.  Actually, it was rather small and it looked like one of those mini-bento box (a Japanese plate with compartments).  Despite its small size, it was unusually filling and good for a midnight snack.

As I opened the package, I realized I didn't know how to eat it.  So he had to PME me—period of military education.  As I was about to take my first bite of it he exclaimed, "Wait!  Let me grab my camera and take a picture of your first bite of lunchables!"  He jumped out of the rack and scrammed to get his digital camera.  "I think I may have just enough battery for one shot.  Okay, you ready?" he asked excitedly.

As I took my first bite, he took this picture:

"Man, it's like you're taking a picture of my first step," I remarked.  We laughed about it.  We were about to go to sleep because we were really tired, but he challenged me to a game of StarCraft which I could not refuse.

Star Craft

Mind you, during our first "field op," I've only been getting roughly 4 hours of sleep.  Not because we don't have enough time to sleep, it's because we have less free-time after work.  I work at least 12+ hours every day and when I get home I still want to do the same normal stuff I do, namely check my email, write emails, program, eat, or play StarCraft at 3 a.m. in the morning knowing full well that at 5 a.m. it's time to get ready for work!

So, being the "jarheads" that we were, we made ready for another fine session of StarCraft at 3 o'clock in the morning.  Alfaro and I have played StarCraft before, and if memory surge me right, the score was 5 to 0.  His 5, my 0.  "Just say it Sin, say that Alfaro is the best StarCraft player on the planet," he said boastfully.  "And that I [Alfaro] am a superior being," he added.  I replied with "Negative, devil dog.  One of these days, you will have your day, you'll go down!"

We played for almost 2 hours and eventually I did defeat him, once.  "It must suck to be you right about now," I said to annoy him.  "I bet you ain't feeling too superior now, are you? Now that I'm annihilating your base," I rubbed it in.  We laughed and joked about it, but we both know who is the better player between the two of us.

So as of right now, the score is 7 to 1.  I have much catching up to do, and by the looks of it things are not in my favor.

Whenever Alfaro wins he doesn't brag about it or rub it in—he reserves that privilege to me.  Instead he encourages me to watch the replays and learn his tactics.  Sometimes we'd watch the replays together and he'll give me a play-by-play instruction in great detail of his strategies and techniques.  He is "showing me the way," as he sometimes puts it.  One of the many fine qualities I like about him.

Cutting it Close

Alfaro is all about doing "the best" at everything he does when he is in uniform and it shows.  He is probably the most squared-away Lance Corporal I know.  "I missed the Corporal cutting score by just 1 point, 1 point!" he told me disappointingly.  For those who do not know, we get a composite score based on our PFT, Proficiency, Conduct, rifle range, MCIs, etc which essentially summarizes a Marine on paper into one number.  If he had just 1 more point, he would have been promoted to Corporal on September 1st.  "Damn, that sucks," I replied.  He pointed at his newly purchased Corporal-chevrons he had on his desk, "Those damn things are bad luck."  "Better luck next time, man," I said in my feeble attempts to try to console him.

Now you might ask, wasn't he on the Corporal Meritorious board just recently?

Meritoriously Mistaken

When Alfaro went to the Corporal Meritorious board he had only 2 hours of sleep and he barely studied for it.  He has a binder which has 114 pages of informational material that he may get asked while he is being interviewed in the board.  The board is composed of high ranking officers and enlisted personnel who randomly pick questions about the Marine Corps and its history.  He didn't know he was supposed to show up for the board until hours beforehand, that's after coming back from the field doing one of our 12+ hours of shift!

I had great confidence in Alfaro and I had a feeling he would do great.  "Dude, with only 2 hours of sleep and not really studying that much, if you win this board you're going to be my hero," I told him.  He took out one of his newer cammies, pressed it and folded his sleeves, ironing with each fold into perfection.  "Damn, those sleeves are so sharp you could cut tomatoes with them," I said jokingly.  "Yeah, you better believe it, boy!" he said with great confidence.

He was slightly nervous as he waited in line, he would later tell me.  But once the show started and it was his turn to face the board they were immediately impressed.  Starting with his face movements which could rival a drill instructor by the way he snaps and pops, to his sharp-looking appearance, his exceptional military bearing, coupled with his intelligence, he blew the board away—once again, with only 2 hours of sleep, after working 12+ hours in the field and barely studying!

So when I saw him in the shop right after his appearance to the Meritorious Board, I asked him how did it go, "I won, man," he said with a big confident smile.  I immediately shook his hand and said, "Congratulations Corporal."  "Not, yet I still have one more board to go to," he said.  "I guess I'd better start addressing you as Corporal when we are in the room so I could get used to it," I said jokingly at the modified parade rest position.  And he replied with, "Do that and I will kick your ass!"

What kicked his ass was when he appeared for the second Meritorious board.  He didn't tell me much about it in great detail, but when he left the room to go to it he came right back shortly thereafter.  As I lay on my rack, I asked, "What happened?"  "They kicked me out of the board," he responded in a melancholy way.  "I'm sorry to hear man, what happened?" I asked inquisitively.  "I got a Page 11 when I was in Oki[nawa], man, for under-age drinking so they threw me out of the board for that."  I just laid there, stunned for a moment; not knowing what to say or if I should say anything at all.  I was lost for words, so I said nothing and went back to sleep.

I felt a great sadness that day.  Can any Marine be truly summarized on a sheet of paper?  Or for that matter, can any person?  Can a number represent a person?  I think not.  Alfaro so loves the Marine Corps that he still does what a boot-Marine does even though he isn't one.  He sings cadence, practice drill, rifle and sword movements, always speaking greatly of the Corps and is motivated and dedicated to it.  In fact, I have never heard him say anything bad about the Marine Corps since I've met him.

A lot of Marines, after they've been in the fleet for some time, hate to be called "devil dog" and they become lax and don't fix their uniforms like they've been taught in boot camp.  Alfaro is different he seeks to improve himself, everything he does now was better than what he used to do a year or two years ago.

I still refer to Alfaro as devil dog half the time.  Or sometimes, I'll refer to him as "motivator."  He does the same to me, and he and I like that stuff.  "Dude, I got a buddy of mine from Oki joining our platoon soon.  Whenever he comes by our room let's kill him with our motivation.  He hates that stuff," he said jokingly.  He plans to make the Marine Corps a career, so he's applying to go to the Naval Academy right now.  When he gets asked how long he's been in the Marine Corps, he'll often says, "I've got 18 more years to go.  Orah! Stay motivated and re-enlist!"

Raman Noodles

His secret diet to staying at 134 lbs can be explained in two words:  Raman Noodles.  He eats Raman Noodles as a meal.  In fact, he's taught me how to eat Raman Noodles.  "Here's what you do Sin, you take the noodle, place it at the edge of the counter, then apply pressure on it to break it to smaller pieces.  Grab a bowl, pour it into it then add as much water as you want to make it as soupy as you like.  Then heat it up for 2 minutes," he explained ever so gracefully.  He actually fixed up my soup for me as he was explaining it.

We stock pile Raman Noodles like we plan to survive a nuclear winter eating it.  He buys the spicy kind, so they actually are pretty good compared to the normal Raman Noodles.  At 13 cents each, meals can't get any cheaper.  Of course, both Alfaro and I have a meal card, so we could always go to the chow hall to eat at any time.  It wasn't until both PFC Abelo and I commented that he should eat more that he decided to go to the chow hall again.

Kiwis

In addition to Raman Noodles, Alfaro does have fruits in our room.  He sort of reminds me of my mom because he goes to the grocery and buys them.  One time he was eating a Kiwi, "Hey Sin, you want some?"  "What is it?" I asked.  "It's a kiwi.  Don't tell me you haven't had a kiwi," he asked in a really funny way, like he would burst into laughter and die from it kind of voice because he is suspecting I haven't had a kiwi before.  "Um, I don't think I have," I responded slowly.  "Oh my God!  You're killing me Sin!" he replied while trying to maintain his composure.  Then he showed me how to eat a kiwi.  He washed one and gave me a choice of either eating it by biting into it or slicing it with a knife.  I went with the latter; however, I did get to try the former later.

The next night he asked me if I wanted another kiwi.  I said, "Sure."  This time he washed a kiwi and hands one to me as I was sitting in front of my computer.  "Here, eat it," he said.  "Um, without slicing it?" I asked curiously.  "Yeah, try it," he insisted.  I examined the kiwi and remarked, "I don't know.  I'm holding this fruit that's about the size of a golf ball, it's brown and it's kind of hairy, you want me to bite into it?" I asked perversely.  "You're fucking sick, Sin," he responded while laughing sensing the innuendo in my question.  "Just try it," he insisted once again.  I teased once more, "I don't know, man.  I don't know."

Eventually I did eat the kiwi the way he handed it to me.  And it was good.  He promised to broaden my fruit-eating horizons much like he's done with music.

MTV Music Awards

I once asked Alfaro how he learned to dance so well.  His response was, "By watching music videos."  I have watched more music videos in one month of us being roommates than all my life.  And that's without cable in our room.  All of it is stored in his HP computer.

As LCpl Evans and I were walking in Wal-Mart she reminded me that she needed to be home at a certain time to watch the MTV Music Awards.  My immediate reaction was, "Yes, let's watch it!"  Mind you, I've never watched it in its entirety before.  I always just see bits and pieces.  So Evans and I sat down and watched it for 3 hours.  Alfaro came in 1 hour later.

Oh we didn't just watch it like couch potatoes do.  I did some PT during the commercials.  Evans bought some facial massage gel.  She applied it to Alfaro and I and we all looked like clowns afterwards.  At some point, the HP iPod commercial came on and I just so happen to have my iPod with me.  We saw how the kids who had iPods were dancing like crazy.  So when the commercial was over, I put on my earphone, turned on my iPod and did my imitation of the commercial.  Evans was laughing so hard she couldn't contain herself.  I've never seen her laugh so hard until then.

We had a great time, and who would have thought that the MTV Music Awards could bring so much joy to the living room.

My Better Half

One night we conversed while we lay on our racks.

"What do you think of me, Sin?" he asked.  By the tone of his voice, I knew he was half-serious and half-joking, but probably more on the serious side.  I was caught off-guard by the question.  I seriously have not given it much thought before.  I knew he was eagerly awaiting a reply.  What I can't figure out is why young Marines come up to me and ask what I think of them.  Alfaro is not the first one, and I know he certainly won't be the last.  As if, what I think somehow matters.

"Well, you're a great guy Alfaro, but you still do things what Marines your age do," I said honestly.  He smiled and looked at me, because he knew exactly what I was talking about.  Then I continued, "You're pretty motivated—"  He interjected.

"You're the one that's really motivated, Sin.  I can see it both when we are at work and when we are not.  At your age, I don't know how you do it," he said curiously.  "I think that's pretty amazing," he added.  "It's not that amazing, just learn to love what you do," I said ever so wisely.  "Do what you love and love what you do, that's my secret to staying young," I elaborated.  He smiled and said, "Yeah, I would have never guessed you're 27 Sin, you look like 21, maybe 22, to me when I first saw you."

"Well, I have to regress a lot since I hang around with young people [Marines] these days, or I'll drive you all crazy if I act my age," I said with a smile.  "You don't have to regress when you are with me man, it's cool," he said.  I don't behave my age.  I behave more as my rank, a Lance Corporal, perhaps just a tad bit older and matured version than what a typical one would be.  "I don't mind having you as a roommate Sin, not at all," he said out of nowhere.  "Same here," I said.

I am, in fact, glad that we are roommates.  I told him once, "The beauty of having you as a roommate, Alfaro, is that I get to see first-hand what all the things I missed when I was your age."  He looked at me in the eye, smiled and said, "ooh, you mean like money problems, urges to drink, smoke and stuff?"  I laughed and smartly replied, "Yeah, I'm not sure if I totally miss them."  I was really referring more of the social aspects of being young, trying to be cool, dressing the latest fashion, being more in "tune" with the latest music, music videos and artists, etc.  I can almost re-live my youth through him.

"I like you, Sin.  There's something genuinely nice about you, I can't quite put it in words," he confides one night.  "You put others' needs before yours, that is really something," he added.  I was both humored and flattered at the same time.  I didn't think we've known each other long enough for him to make such an observation.  I then felt compelled to share something which I normally would not, so in response I said, "You're the Lance Corporal, Marine, I'd like to become, someday.  Always locked-on, always squared-away."  He laughed a little and said, "Don't be like me Sin, don't.  You are my better half.  Stay that way."

Constantly Moving

Stay the way I am, I wish I could.  I am constantly learning, constantly evolving.  Each day gives rise to a new me.  Hopefully, a better me than the day before.  This email was over a month in the making—believe it or not.  There's so much I could write, but I'm afraid I would lose you, the reader, if I write further and in more depth.  Such that no one can be represented by a number (the Marine Corps' cutting score), no one can ever be summed up in an email as well (especially my email).  A 3-dimensional construct, such as a person, can never be accurately described in a 2-dimensional means, a letter or an email, no matter how hard any author try.

Alfaro is definitely more than just a roommate.  I call him my big brother and he calls me his little brother sometimes.  Funny isn't it?  Considering our age difference.  When we are sitting down in front of our computer and people walk in our room they cannot tell who is who from the way we look on the back, sometimes.  I've been mistaken for Alfaro in the field and also in our room!  Even Clackler has mistaken us for one over the other before.  And that is scary considering Clackler spends a great deal of time in our room.

Although Alfaro refers to me as his friend, I've actually never called him as one.  I usually refer to him as "my roommate."  I'm a believer that a friend is not some title you wear; rather, it is what you are to the other person.  I guess I don't really need to call him a friend to be one, he already is one.

May you all be as fortunate as I in finding a friend no matter where life takes you.

Yours truly,

—LCpl Sincioco
United States Marine Corps, 8th Comm BN, Support Co., Data Platoon