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[Reporter]

What? You think I have mistaken by saying "woman-height"? Oh, then have the feminists continue complaining, eh? If you think that's degrading, well, we can't please everyone, can we?

[Reporter]

August, 28, 2011--Mid-west Southern MN Lake (not its real name)--An action-packed great day that started out hopelessly! The friend, known more as Fly_Guy, thrilled me two weeks ago about possibly catching lunkers beyond belief! The talks and anticipation had me going so strong, I couldn't sleep the night before and got up at 4:15 a.m. after just a two hours of sleep.  

When I got to Fly's place, he had been up earlier and was already waiting too long for me. He said he had gone back go sleep because I was a bit later than we had originally proposed.

Nonetheless, we hitched up his boat to his truck and drove west of the Twin Cities.

Having arrived around 6:00 a.m., we quickly cast at Fly's favorite spot.  For the next few hours, we continued to cast hard with our spinner baits. Yet the lake didn't produce anything but junkies of green fertilizer taints from the local farms. By noon, I had lost all hopes of fun-filled fishing, and I was beginning to believe that the other friend, Sushi, who had previously agreed to come along but decided this morning to pull out--he claimed he was too tired from a family gathering the night before--I was believing he did the right thing pulling out.

I suggested going home for the day. But Fly insisted on just changing the lake.  

There was another one he knew well of down somewhere totally unknown to me.  On the way there, I slept throughout the interim because I was both too tired and bored. By the time I awoke again, we were already just a few blocks from a new lake! Unknown to me, but Fly said this was farther south of where we were just 40 minutes ago.

Boat off the truck and onto the lake. We hopped on, equipped to cast again.  Over the lily pads near the edges of the lake, we maneuvered Fly's Bass Tracker boat.  Casting here and there. Nothing was happening! Same old stuff like the previous lake except the green junkies weren't there. The lakes were equally dirty looking. But this one just didn't have the stinky looking stains on the surface. I actually said that to Fly when he said they kind of looked the same.  

Then suddenly, a huge splash!! The sound was too familiar for those in the know. (We were among that group.) Something had caught onto Fly's bait. He just set the hook and reeled it in real quickly without saying anything.

I just watched and admired the action!  "A large mouth!" I said.

He agreed. But he didn't stop. He just kept on reeling!

A keeper green bass (another term we use for largemouth bass).

We continued around the edges some more, casting here and there.

My first catch: a tiny large mouth bass. A second was a larger crappie! Enough to dispel my sleepiness. So, we kept casting!

I managed to catch a few more crappies with a spinner bait tipped with plastic minnows. But that didn't excite anyone!

Our hope of finding lunkers was almost out! We had come a long way on the edges and now were making our way towards another side of the lake. Nature seemed to play us a bit, too: it put some thick clouds just above our spot and dropped some rain onto us, harsh enough that we had to put our rain gears on for a time.  After the short storm, Fly got so tired (and bored for sure), he asked me to pilot his boat after just some brief instructions. No fish still, as I slowly controlled the boat around the area.  Sounds just like those bad luck days other people have had at other times.  

I kept the boat silent and fished around for some 15 minutes 'til Fly got up again. "Caught anything?" he asked.

"Nope. Nothing," I said.

Fly took over the boat again and we kept moving around the edges again. He knew that lunkers would hang around logs, lily pads, and other thick structures around the edges. (I am not sure what the fishes do with the deeper parts of the water, really.)

But still no catches.

Near 3:00 p.m., Fly finally suggested we go to another spot where there were lily pads--yes, one more before we quit for the day.

I had no more hope other than finding ways to catch crappies and sunnies for fun. At least there was some yanking actions for a bit, I told myself.

Then we found several tiny beds of lily pads, and Fly suggested we start with one of them.  So, over some lily pads farther into a corner of this lake, Fly and I cast. Just top water actions, pretty much since we didn't want our hooks to collect the weeds that were growing thick in the areas.  

Boom! Fly caught a lunker bass! Quick actions as before! This one was larger than the other one.

My sleep totally disappeared! I was more alert than a gazelle fearing a wild predator!!

I took out one of my scum frogs and cast it into the pads! Then in between two sets of pads! Fly was putting his near, too!

The water rose with some ripple effects near mine, a huge panel of teeth or something grabbed my frog and pulled it under the water! This was happening so fast, I couldn't even tell my frog had disappeared had it not been for the line moving quickly out of position. It was alive. Must be a bite!

A bite it was!

I pulled my line, as if to set the hook!

The line came off real smoothly! Real light.  That's because there was no fish coming along! We saw the bite! It was a lunker pike! But I didn't hook it!

"You should have set the hook faster," Fly said.

"It's not the hook," I said. "The line is cut off."

More bass actions followed. But they were Fly's and not mine. I kept losing fishes. And Fly kept counting the losses that I wanted to forget!

"Let me show you how to do frog actions," he said.

Fly took out a soft-gel frog with dark brown top and a white belly. A hook runs almost throughout the frog's body. He said this kind was no longer made. We couldn't determine why.

Fly quickly tied up the frog onto the line, replacing another bait he had just used before. He cast it into the lily pads just to our left and dragged it back in slow motion, brushing over the leaves. I could see the frog's legs beating on the surface like a vibrating jello. I commented on those. "Oh, I see. It's swimming real fast," I added.

Just as the frog got off the lily pads and onto the opening water just a few yards between our boat and the pads, a lunker bass jumped at it!  The water splashed almost a foot into the air! The water parted!  A huge ripple formed and the bass dived right back down into the water with the frog!! We could already see how big it was!

"Whoa!!!" I applauded loudly! (The entire lake must have hummed up and other fisherpersons and nearby residents might have heard me.)  Real unchoreographe d, live actions before my eyes like never before! Water splashing, sweeping with quick, scrubby sounds as Fly reeled in the fish!! Better and more thrilling than in the movies!

But Fly already set the line and had the lunker hooked! No matter how hard the bass jumped now, it was hooked good, and Fly seemed to know that! He was not going to stop reeling in the lunker! I would have softened up the reeling in case the fish's lips fell off or something. But that was not the way, according to Fly.  Why was I still being nice to the fish, after all? And that seemed to be my problem: not setting the hook hard or fast enough.

Apparently, the fish was too huge among all of those we caught today for just the three or so hours here, I was afraid Fly's line might break, so I reached down to the boat side with the net!

It measured between 19" and 20". And its weight: 5.20 lbs!!!

http://www.pebhmong.com/forum/index.php/topic,251395.0.html

http://www.pebhmong.com/forum/index.php/topic,251245.0.html

[Reporter]

9/11/11--Twin Towers, Bin Laden, terrorists, warfares--all the violence. That's all that comes to mind today. 9/11 does not make me think of the ambulance and paramedics anymore! It's just terrorism at its worst! Obviously, Bin Laden's group might have chosen this day to create an emergency!! What a way to mock the United States!

I don't know what to make of this incident. I'm just glad our U.S. government handled it immediately! Years ago, I felt pretty bad upon hearing of how the planes took down the towers. I realized right at that time that the U.S. government has had lots of grudges with so many people that the common people didn't and don't know about. I think there are more and that one day we will be surprised through another incident or an arrest or something turbulent. 

People need to promote peace around the world more aggressively.

[Reporter]

9/14/11--St. Paul, MN--A cooler weather took over my morning. I turned down the AC for the first time and also the car's heat for the first time. 

I shiver a bit around this time of year, not because of the cold but because of the chilling feelings of an upcoming terrible winter like the one we just had this past year. I hope this year's winter won't be as harsh.

[Reporter]

I'm not offended at all in anyway. There's no requirement that I know so much about churches. I won't ever be tested on them, and I won't ever need them to live or survive in anyway. I can be as ignorant about them as anybody can be about anything else and it still won't matter. And learning about them won't serve any purpose other than just knowing more about them. Frankly, it doesn't hurt to know or not to know more about how churches are run.

One thing for sure, though, is that churches are not funded by the government simply because the government is restricted from funding or restricting their fundings or activities.  Just Free Exercise of the U.S. Constitution, right?

I personally think the churches should not be that greedy as to collect from its members so much. But at the same time I also see the need for some money to run its activities. Without money--and since the government is't helping--how will a church function for the benefits of the members if there's no money to pay for someone to run the churches or its activities? Just common sense. So, I approve a little collecting. I just don't think it should be overly aggressive in just collecting.

I don't attend American churches so I can't say much about it other than I have seen numerous people with the 10% tithe being direct deposited from their place of employment. Plus, I am not Catholic and I have never attended a Catholic mass before so I wouldn't know anything about how tithes are collected (or if tithe is part of their practice?).  And Reporter, attending church services a few times in your lifetime doesn't give you a clear view of how money/tithes are collected.
 
Additionally, I don't know how many times a pastor has to pass his salary until the following week but I can honestly tell you that I used to attend a very small church and the pastor was hardly ever paid on time (good thing the wife had a job outside of the church and they weren't really dependent on his salary to pay for their bills). I urge you to become an official member of a church (a small Hmong church preferably) for one year or longer and perhaps then you will have a better/clearer idea of the importance of collecting 10% tithes.  And this is not to insult you in anyway, shape, or form but a mere encouragement for you to expand your views/perspectives on churches.
 
And Jesus did not "made" 10% tithe a part of anyone's church membership nor was it a recent man-made due to tougher economy issue.  However, recent economy downturn makes it difficult for people to "give" voluntarily; hence, the many sermons from many of the struggling Hmong churches.  Tithe is originally from the Old Testament but Jesus (and the Apostle Paul) did emphasize the importance of giving what's God back to Him.

[Reporter]

Mount Hoy Han, Laos, 1975--A grenade exploded in the middle of the night down the hill that echoed up the rocky mountains just on the north of our thatch.  I woke up from it like a thunder had just struck a tree and trembled the areal. Everyone had thought war has now reached our village. But my parents said not to scream and not to go anywhere. I was a kid then. I could not see anything outside but darkness through our wooden walls.

Soon, a man's family members were mourning from the thatch just down a few yards from ours.  My father and my maternal grandfather had  gone to check it out.  Turned out, a Yang man had pulled the grenade on himself.  Dad said the man had asked his family members to sleep with a relative that night. The man--while all alone--then had put the grenade by the door knob and pulled its trigger with a threat while he was lying on the bed near the door panel. All of his body turned into pieces except his legs were intact, Dad reported.  

My mother said the man had been depressed for many years now because of an illness that could not be cured. "He told grandpa one time that he would just take care of it himself," mom said.  

The guy was an opium addict. I remember him having a beautiful teenage girl who was older than I was. Her name was New Flower. No one wanted her because of his condition.

[Reporter]

Yep!  As I said before, giving to the church/God is and will always be a volunteering matter, not by guilt or force.  And allow me to reiterate that even I get annoyed by the many/overly aggressive sermons about giving to the church.  I'll give when I want to give; that's between me and God.  

Now, can we get back to the folktale story?  

While on top of the tree, Ntxawm yelled out to her family in the distance. It was believed that the clouds or the angels of Heavens could deliver her message to her parents anywhere on any other part of the Earth. "Mom and Dad, threat up sturdy sack for Daughter and threat up bottomless sack for Maternal Granny Witch!"

Within seconds, Ntxawm's message was received and transmitted back for clarification.  "I said 'threat up sturdy sack for Daughter Ntxawm and threat up bottomless sack for Maternal Granny Witch!'"

"Oh, surely, we shall do. But how do we know you are our true and real Ntxawm? Give us a sign that you truly are, and a sack we shall sew up in no time. Two, in fact, one sturdy and one bottomless," a voice yelled back through the angels.

"I have an older sister Ntxawm Hlob back in  the village and now I am chased by the Granny Witch that you have told me to fetch," Ntxawm returned.

"Not enough," a voice returned that claimed to be Ntxawm's mother. "Where did I hide my two silver earrings?"

"At the goat fence," Ntxawm said back.

[Reporter]

St. Paul, MN--Sept. 19, 2011:  So, my questions for you, Mr. Reporter, are: where were you going and what were you hoping for while going through those jungles?

[Reporter]

St. Paul, MN--Sept. 19, 2011:  So, my questions for you, Mr. Reporter, are: where were you going and what were you hoping for while going through those jungles?

Oh, those jungles? You mean like back in Laos? Well, I was hoping to just get some fresh seafood from the streams and rivers. But it turned out we got all the way to a river called Mekong. Then soon we were already on a land where people were speaking with "stickier" words, etc. 

[Reporter]

Oh, those jungles? You mean like back in Laos? Well, I was hoping to just get some fresh seafood from the streams and rivers. But it turned out we got all the way to a river called Mekong. Then soon we were already on a land where people were speaking with "stickier" words, etc. 

And by "etc" I mean a thicker accent, a different culture, a new land--in short, Thailand itself.

[Reporter]

So now, we are talking to ourselves? 

Well, my question to you, Mr. Reporter, is: do you believe in Heaven and Hell?

Yes.

[Reporter]

St. Paul, MN--Sept. 22, 2011--A few leaves on the tree outside my work window have turned yellow. But there are some green ones still.

That's a natural cycle that just recurs and recurs and recurs and recurs. Around this time of year, I've also noticed a bit of rain and then the wind blowing harshly here and there. It's quite clear every time: nature is preparing for another season. Of course, officially, our autumn--aka fall--starts tomorrow. Will the leaves fall in time? No way. The way they look right now, they are not going to fall for an other two to three weeks or so.

[Reporter]

"Yes, that is where I have put it," Ntxawm's mother responded. "And, so, it is you, my May Nai. Mother has been so worried about you, eyes always full of tears."

[Reporter]

Reporter, I read your initial response but haven't had a chance to reply.  Why did you delete it?

Now, next question.  Do you believe that when people die, they go to either Heaven or Hell?

And...do you practice Shamanism?  Or are you an Atheist?

I don't want people to think I'm turning shamanistic. That's why I deleted the original response.

Anyway, yes, I believe people go to one of three places once dead:  1. Heaven, 2. Hell, and 3. Earth--two ways: be an eternal ghost or reincarnate into another being as either a human or an animal or a plant.

I'm neither a shaman nor an atheist. I believe in the diverse views of life around the world. I just don't practice them consistently. There is no need to do that anyway.

[Reporter]

Forestville State Park, somewhere in southern Minnesota (Saturday, Sept. 25, 2011)--I came here to hunt squirrels but got lost finding my way back. And then I ran into a farmer who was selling gourds, eggs, and pumpkins. I stopped by his house and asked for direction to the highway that would lead me back to Rochester.  I also bought 10 dozens of brown farm-fresh eggs from him, and found my way back to St. Paul.

How I was lost: there was a road that led directly to the highway to Rochester. But I went the other way on that road instead. That's because it's full of farms and similar-looking corners around here.

But the hunting was not that great. I walked 45 minutes through  a state park before I got to the hunting area. I crossed two streams, one already had a bridge made of three logs. Some Hmong must have done that, since I could not imagine a Caucasian knowing how to do that or even thinking of doing that. I have seen Hmong people build bridges this way before.

Then I went up a hill, got thirsty, sat down to drink and eat a little snack before moving on.  

My partner and I spent the entire day there and got just one squirrel.

We returned to the parking lot just to meet a park ranger who seemed to question me harshly.

"Where did you just come from?" he asked.

"From the trail. We went hunting over the hill," I told him.

"Where did you hunt?" he asked.

"By the hill, past that hunting sign on the trail. There's a sign that says 'Public Hunting Permitted' or 'Allowed,'" I said. "And on the other side, it says 'Restricted. Shooting and Hunting Prohibited.' But we crossed the river and went up the hill and hunted up there. Real far away."

He said some horseback riders have complained about seeing people carrying guns in the state park. I told him they never saw us since we were up on the hill when they were riding by. I meant to say they have lied to him. But I didn't see a need to say more on that, since we haven't done anything wrong. Even if they had seen us, there's nothing illegal that we have done anyway.  So I did not allege that they had lied.  We did hear them and the horses gallopping and the horses blowing their noses, I added. "But they could not have seen us. We were over the hill pass the stream and in the woods at that time," I said.

The man went on to say that the horse riders claimed to have seen two people carrying guns by the metal bridge just down the hill from the parking lot.  He felt the two people carrying gun description identified us, since has just seen us carrying a gun and there were just two of us.  Whether he made that up or not, I don't know.

"We didn't meet anyone by the bridge and no one saw us with a gun."

Apparently, the park ranger said the horse riders claimed the gun or guns carried by the hunters they saw had the guns cased--whoever it was have done this legally.

"The law is that you can carry guns in state parks but they must be cased," he said.

Mine was cased and he saw me carrying the cased gun onto the trunk of our van. He did not say anything about that.  

The ranger then said that people were not happy seeing other people carrying guns in the state parks, suggesting that we hunters needed to stop going hunting at Forestville. That's how his words felt to me.  

I told him there was a sign by the trail that allowed hunting in that part of the state park. I even described the writings on both sides of the sign to him. Then I said, "I understand, especially kids. Kids can get scared if they see guns. But that is something you will have to take up with the state. The place allows hunting."

"Have you hunted here before?" he asked.

"Yes. Nine years ago."And I told him other people have hunted here, too.

The ranger realized I was right.

"I am not with law enforcement, and you are not in trouble or anything," he said.

Of course not. What problem would there be? I have not done anything wrong.  He saw my cased gun. He knew there was a hunting spot there. If he had checked, he would have seen the one squirrel I got that day--6 short of the daily limit--along with my small game hunting license, and nothing else illegal.

He asked for my name and phone number. I gave them to him. I then asked if he wanted my ID and other information, too. He said he didn't want them and that he just wanted my number in case he wanted to ask more questions after talking to some other people who have hunted that day.

The ranger then added that he and management might have to find some different and better ways to allow the hunters to get to the hunting area.  

The ranger reached out to shake my hand. I shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you," he said. And he let me go.

The horse riders cannot try to take over the park for themselves. That's one thing I'm sure of.