Delivery Skills

 For Noche Buena* this year I decided to make felafels.  I learned to make them 13 years ago doing cooking gigs in Chatswood.  Soaked dry chickpeas are put through the food processor with fresh parsley, coriander, onions, garlic, and spice seasoning.  The resulting mush is then hand formed into felafel balls and get chucked into the freezer.  I had the ingredients, dusted off the food processor, but the pressure point was finding space in the freezer.  

So I decided maybe I can repack the freezer and if I have to, I'll just defrost and consume what won't fit back in once the felafels are in place.  To my pleasant surprise, I was able to fit everything in even with the felafels!   It was then I realised  that I had been honing my packing skills for over 2 years and it has just manifested.  Another Tetris win!  

Tomorrow I make the yoghurt mint dip.

*Traditional Filipino midnight feast on Christmas Eve  (we Filipinos don't see the point of wasting the first 3 hours of the holiday)

Life in the Pelepens

Day 10 

My dad and my mom were avid bowlers (tenpin).  Trophies crowd the top display shelf in the living room.  I thought it would be a great idea for us to go bowling, my mom, and my niece took me to Southmall for that.  My mom forgot to take her ball but brought her own shoes (of course she had her own custom ball and shoes),  so she had to make do with the house balls.  Meanwhile my niece and I has the house shoes and ball.  I merely took that as my mom playing against us with a handicap.  I came out guns blazing, with a score of 124 on the first game, but I only managed a 99 and 102 on the next two.  It was heartwarming for me to watch my 86 year old mom still beat me on the third game, she took two games to warm up after years of not having hit the lanes.  

Day 11

We went to visit my dad's grave in Parañaque.  I haven't been since his funeral seven years ago.  I like browsing through the other graves and tried to imagine the lives that were lived by its occupants and the implied stories behind some of them like a husband and wife who died only 7 days apart -the wife only lasted a week without her partner.  Some plots had family members dying on the same date suggesting some sort of accident or calamity had claimed their lives on that fateful day.  Most notable however, were the number of fresh gravestones for those who had perished between 2020 and 2022, a poignant testament of the devastation wrought by the COVID-19 pandemic.  Rich or poor, young or old, few families were exempt from this global calamity. 

. . .

By evening, the temperatures have cooled down a bit, also partially due to rains brought about by a typhoon passing through the north of the country. I went for a bicycle ride around the old neighbourhood as I once did when I was a child.  This unleashed a flood of childhood memories. I rode past homes of old friends and crushes that have long changed hands and / or  been renovated or knocked down and rebuilt with bigger and more modern designs.  Trees that were mere saplings back then have matured and their roots cracked walls and paved sidewalks.  Once when I was eleven, a dog chasing me caused me to fall over and graze my knees.  However, I wasn't too concerned tonight when two dogs started chasing my bike, if it comes to it, I'd use the bicycle as both a shield and a weapon. Besides, they weren't too serious and gave up as soon as I was outside their territory.  My ride lasted all of 25 minutes, and I had gone down every street of phase one  of our subdivision -Amelita to Imelda, Lovely to Friendly and everything in between.  I got home with a smile on my face, who knows when I might be able to do this again.

  

Day 12

The week since I got here, I've been following two local news stories.  They are both about off-duty law enforcers pulling out their firearms during a road rage incident.  In  both cases, the offenders were trying to assert their authority against the object of their rage. And in both cases a passing motorist had pulled out their smart phones and recorded video of the altercations.  Both videos have gone viral and there was understandably public outcry against the blatant abuse of power.  In the past, all this would have just been quietly swept under the rug, and their law enforcement brothers would have helped with the cover up. That's no longer possible in today's world of social media because the evidence is now in the public sphere and the public expect consequences.  The newspaper today reports that in both incidents, the offenders have lost their jobs and their right to carry firearms. They were clearly not the guys you want roaming the streets armed. Even more satisfying is that the investigating cops who were allegedly willing to let them get away with it are also facing consequences.  Well done Filipinos, I am heartened by the progress of this society who are now excercising their power to hold these abusers and enablers of abuse accountable.  They are finding out that the dildo of consequences arrives unlubricated.

Downtown Manila

Day 7

After picking up my recovered phone from Alabang Town Center, I hopped on a bus and made my way to Quiapo. Taking a car to downtown Manila feels like too much hassle considering traffic, tolls, fuel and especially parking (might be worth it with a full passenger load but not solo).  Turns out my bus fare from Las Piñas to Quiapo cost less than a litre of petrol.

It was a long slow grind along Alabang-Zapote Road. I'm actually surprised it hasn't been renamed yet, considering that streets I used to know in my lifetime have been renamed  (for historical and some I suspect politcal reasons): 

• Avenida into Rizal Avenue
• Highway 54 into EDSA*
• Buendia into Gil Puyat
• Pasong Tamo into Arnaiz
• Pasay Road into Chino Roces 

I could go on but I'm just showing off my age here.

Traffic eased up once we hit Coastal Road (CAVITEX).  I do enjoy seeing the Manila Skyline from across the bay.  Instead of continuing along Roxas Boulevard, we peeled off into the newly reclaimed land (hah! it was started in the 1970s)  west of the Boulevard to hit PITX and MOA before rejoining it after Baclaran.  Even though the land reclamation had been completed decades ago, I still have trouble accepting this change is permanent as evidenced by the various developments, resort hotels, residential towers, and malls that have since sprouted. There are fewer and fewer people from my generation that still carry living memories of this being part of the sea. 

I was shocked when I saw Luneta had been bulldozed.  My online research indicated that this was part of the plan to ressurrect the original plans for its development dating back to 1905.  I'm sad and infuriated at the same time.

When we were very young (1968-1970), we would sometimes stay over with my aunties in Tondo.  If it was a particularly nice evening, they would take us on a jeepney ride with my cousins to Luneta for an evening stroll.  We used the park as it was meant to be used. Couples and families out to enjoy the gentle sea breeze amid the grass, trees, playgrounds, and sculptures.  There was even an aquarium that exhibited various marine life, my favourite being the piranha tank.  

The bus deposited all of its passengers near Colegio Santa Isabel (don't get me started on the Jai Alai building, I'm done grieving that) leaving me as the only passenger to take across the Pasig River to Quiapo.  Over the Quezon Bridge and down the ramp to Quezon Boulevard (yeah Quezon was a big deal), we shot past Quiapo Church, the passenger unloading zone was further down near Raon than Quiapo.  That suited me just fine as I did want to explore Raon anyway. 

This district of Manila is packed with street vendors, stalls, wholesalers and retailers spruiking everything from fashion (fakes or factory overruns, or more likely both), to tools, hardware, electronics.  I even spotted a vendor with dildoes, hmm that's new, I thought. The ground floor of buildings are entrances to a warren of more stalls, and eateries.  This is the furthest you can get from the airconditioned malls, this is where the masses can maximise their purchasing power.  

It is very densely crowded and one has to maintain the highest level of alertness lest one fall victim to scams, pick pockets, snatchers.   Very far removed from the Blue Mountains where the biggest crowds I have to deal with on a regular basis is the check out queue at Katoomba ALDI.   There were some occasions when I decided it wouldn't be prudent to pull out my phone to take pictures, even though every one around me had one and were busy scrolling through their Tik Tok feed. This is where you meet "the average Filipino" going about their lives.  

The noise is deafening, especially in the area where you can buy professional audio components for night clubs, karaoke bars, auditoriums.  Each stall competing with each other by turning their amps up to eleven just to show everyone they have the best and the loudest (they are not always the same thing).  The smells vary from. diesel exhaust, sharp plastic wrap, textiles, leather, to ozone tinged electrical, rust and grease, all of them taking turns with food aromas from frying, barbecuing, and steaming.  Brief periods of rain would send everyone scurrying for cover and deploying umbrellas, Puddles would pullulate into floods if the rain ever went longer than an hour.  Luckily today they remained as puddles, large, 2 inch deep puddles, but still shy of being called a flood.  You can call it a flood (baha in the Tagalog) once the enterprising boys put up walkways made of planks supported by hollow blocks or tyres, charge pedestrians a few coins for the privilege of using them to avoid having to wade through baha.

I made my way past Avenida and wound up in Ongpin, Manila's original Chinatown.  Lamp posts with red and gold dragons marked the boundaries of this district.  Famous eateries are interspersed with traders importing everything from heavy machinery to restaurant equipment, all imported from China and Taiwan. Some of the buildings date back to the American occupation and the post-war rebuild, some more recent like the 70s and 80s.  The streets are like core drill samples where you can identify the many layers representing various time periods.

When I emerged at Plaza Santa Cruz, I saw the church, the fountain, and the old buildings that wouldn't have been out of place in Madrid or Montevideo.  If I hadn't been to any of those places, its significance to our rich history would have been lost on me.  Inside Santa Cruz church, I sat on the pews and teased out memories of being a toddler with my parents attending mass.  I would be the little boy crawling under the rows of seats and over the kneelers disturbing worshippers. 

On Avenida was tired Isetan. I remember when it was new, where I bought my girlfriend a stuffed toy (monkey),  it was cute and she loved it. There is a place that still called itself Good Earth, but I still carry memories of Good Earth Emporium at that site, back when the only other department stores were Rustans, COD, and Arcegas.

When it was time to head home, I made my way to Lawton aka Liwasang Bonifacio via Quinta Market and back south over the Pasig.  The Post Office building where I attended many student rallies in 1983-1984 burned down just this year.  

The only thing that picked up my sad lamentation of lost iconic landmarks is the restoration and re-opening of the Metropolitan Theatre.  This is a desperate plea to all Manileños,  please preserve our heritage.  A place like this magnificent example of Art Deco does not exist anywhere in Asia, not even Australia has anything as exquisite as the Metropolitan. One would have to go to New York or Paris to see, let alone attend a performance in similar a place.   

It has survived WWII and decades of neglect.  I pray it survives developers, the way that the Jai Alai building did not.

*Epifanio De Los Santos Avenue if anyone was asking

Authentication!

Day 6

Movies are cheaper in the Philippines than Australia.  I was hoping to catch Oppenheimer or Barbie so my sister dropped me off at Alabang Town Centre (ATC) after lunch.  On my previous visits a trip to the mall is also a chance to go shopping.  The most prolific mall in the country is the SM brand, not sure how many people actually still remember what SM stood for (Shoe Mart).  It used to be a chain of shoe stores, and later grew into department stores.  However, in the 80s the Viktor Gruen concept  of malls with car parks was changing the world and they built the first "mega mall" in Mandaluyong.   It was a brutalist windowless air-conditioned rectangular block housing three storeys of retail and food outlets anchored by the department store, supermarket and multiplex cinemas.  At latest count there are 83 SM malls in the country (and apparently 7 in China). 

ATC though took a different approach by not adopting the big box. The mall consists of several smaller buildings, each with its own character, and inter-linked by aesthetically landscaped walkways and all tied together with a coherent Spanish/Mexican villa style. It's kind of clever because one could just pleasantly meander around and get lost, thereby increasing your chances of spending more money due to the extended linger time.  Reminds me of casinos that have no right-angle corridors and no clocks to discourage punters from ever leaving  Notwithstanding, hands down it's my favourite mall in the country. 

So that's what I did, I walked around and took note of which shops were as I remember from previous visits, some relocated, some new, and some gone, the empty shells boarded up waiting for the next entrepreneur willing to take a stab at retail success.   Eventually I did make it to the cinema and bought a ticket for "Blue Beetle" (Barbie had only one session but for later in the day).  It was  then that I noticed I couldn't find my phone.  I was horrified when I emptied my bag and my pockets, reaching the unavoidable conclusion that I had lost my phone.  After the movie, I retraced my steps searching. When that yielded nothing, I asked the concierge (yes the mall had a concierge) if by chance someone might have handed it in.  They said no, but if I leave my details, they'll contact me if someone does.  I thought this is the Philippines, if no one has handed it in yet I probably would never see it again. Fuck.

As soon as I got home I went online, and tried Google's find my phone feature.  It said unable to contact phone, the last time it was in contact was 4 hours ago before I left for the mall.  Of course.  I had it in airplane mode because I didn't want to pay $10/day for roaming, but I did use it when wi-fi was available, like at home.  

As a last ditch effort, my sister lodged a post on the Southies facebook group hoping it would be found by a member.  People made helpful comments like try Google find my phone feature. Uh-huh.

I accepted my android phone was gone for good. So I needed to secure it on Google.  When I followed the steps to do so, Google wanted to verify my identity and sent a 6 digit one time code to,  see where this is going?  Yes my phone before it will let me access the secure function.  To secure my lost phone I had to put in  the 6 digit code that was sent to my lost phone. Grrrr.

I tried to turn off 2 factor authentication, but before I can do that I had to authenticate first.  With. A. Code. Sent. To. My. Phone. Grrrr.

I also needed to let Telstra know that my phone is lost so that whomever found/stole my phone can't use it to rack up roaming / call charges.  I get on to the Telstra website.  They want me to use the Telstra app (on my lost phone) to access the feature.  How about using the browser?  The webpage says to use the browser on my lost phone.  Grrrrrr.

Eventually I found a link to contact Telstra via facebook messenger.  The support person needed to verify my identity (not again).    She sent me an authentication form, but the link wouldn't load.  She asked me to clear my browser cache and try the link again.  When I cleared the browser cache, I got logged out (duh).  But oh no, that means my Google session was also logged out!  Luckily Google didn't ask for 2 factor authentication and I was able to log back in (maybe because Google recognised I was on the same IP address). I tried the link again and it still wouldn't.

  

Telstra support asked if I have another device.  I told her THIS PC IS THE OTHER DEVICE.  Oh. 

 

So as an alternative, she suggested that I have to go to a Telstra shop and do this in person.    I reminded her I was overseas.  Oh. 

So she asked again if can I use another device.  I was ready to strangle someone, but my sister loaned me a smart phone.  I had to reinstall facebook messenger and try the authentication link again.  To my suprise that worked! She said great!  She processed the form and sent me an email with another link, and when I clicked that, she was finally able to verify me.  Now she can suspend my services so that no one can use my phone / sim.  I will have to go in person to a Telstra shop when I get back to Australia to lift the suspension when I can get a new phone / sim.  

Aaaarghhhh!

My sister and her daughter were convinced my phone was lifted from me by a skilled pick-pocket. I insisted that would not be possible, I was aware of everyone around me at ATC and no one got close enough to me the whole time I was there.  I did concede that if I had accidentally dropped it or if it fell out of my bag, I had little faith the finder would turn it in. It's a poor country and a free phone is a free phone.

The next day, my sister got a call from the ATC concierge. My phone was found by a security guard at the bottom of an escalator.  However, since I didn't leave my contact details, how did they know to call my sister's number?  They found her post on the  Southies facebook group.  

Thank you to all who helped reunite me with my phone.  May the universe repay you with good karma.

Pilipinas 2023

 I haven't been back since my father's funeral seven years ago.  What I wanted was to visit together with my daughters, but that proved too complicated to organise and as the years dragged on, I saw that waiting for things to be perfect means I may not visit for years so I decided to visit solo -I can't allow the perfect to be the enemy of the good.  I should visit now and visit again when I get my children's papers sorted out.

Day 1 Sunday

To be more precise, first night as our flight arrived on Sunday evening. We were whisked away to my mother's ancestral home as soon as we were collected from the airport.  The house was located in the rural town of Bustos about 50km north of Manila, although the place is so built-up and densely populated, the only thing that reminds me of how provincial it used to be are small plots of rice paddies that remain as most of the farmland have been sold for industrial and residential use.

The house itself had undergone a renovation as sections of it were already falling into disrepair.  The last person to actually live there was my Tita Ine (aunty ''ee-neh) my mother's youngest sister, my nieces and nephews addressed her a Lola (grandma)  Ine.  She passed away just before the COVID pandemic.

My cousins who still live in Bustos have become de-facto caretakers of the property and for that I am grateful.  It gives us all a place where we can gather as a gi-normous family and have feasts and celebrations spanning four generations.  It's a reason for all my cousins scattered all over Metro Manila to make the trek to Bustos and share dinuguan, menudo and San Miguel beer, with the option of an overnight stay at the renovated ancestral home we affectionately call Villa Remedios (Remedios is Tita Ine's full name).

It was 4am by the time my sister, my bayaw and I called it a night and ended the party.

Day 2 Monday

Unsurprisingly I woke up with the mother of all hangovers and totally missed out on the family breakfast.  Last night was the welcome home party for us, the freshly arrived Aussies.  It also so happens today was a national holiday to remember Ninoy Aquino whose assassination 40 years ago triggered the downfall of the the Marcos dictatorship,  In a biblical generation, the Filipinos have gone from ejecting a kleptocratic tyrant, to electing his son as President.  As much as this shits me, the people have spoken, people like me who have migrated out have no right to judge.

The long weekend was also an opportunity to have a family party with pancit and lechon.  More cousins arrived for this party.  I was unable to enjoy this party as my liver was working overtime to get my systems back to normal operations. Like a zombie I just ambled at the edges of the party, watching and listening to my nephews and nieces laughing and teasing each other as we and my cousins, their parents, used to do.  It was clear the next generation is in great hands, and my role in it diminishing with each year. Sad as that sounds,  I'll dismiss that as the hangover talking.

By 430pm this party had wrapped up, all of us taking our share of the leftovers home back to the pockets of Metro Manila we called home. All must return and  resume their work and school commitments tomorrow.  Villa Remedios emptied out, cars and SUVs pulled out of the gates, and silence descends, the house settles into slumber awaiting the next family gathering.  Which just happens to be next weekend due to another long weekend, as next Monday is also a national holiday..

On the drive home I watched the landscape scroll by, I struggled to identify familiar and significant places and landmarks from my life here decades ago.  Freeways, billboards, and high-rise towers dominate the major traffic arteries of the sprawling megalopolis. Juxtaposed with the familiar ramshackle dwellings that have always been there.  There are overgrown and abandoned industrial parks, alongside working ones. It doesn't take long for the jungle to start reclaiming unoccupied land in the tropics. 

Caught a glimpse of  my old high school in Makati, fenced in by tall condominiums; Magallanes cinema had long been knocked down and redeveloped, South Supermarket had long ago moved really south to Alabang;  I almost missed the entrance to the subdivision in Taguig where we lived when my first daughter was born; in Bicutan I failed  to locate Basilica of the Immaculate Conception as I strained to keep my bearings; the semiconductor assembly plant in Muntinglupa  where I used to work before migrating; the MacDonalds at the top of the hill that used to be the site of the decaying Madrigal mansion; the entrance to Concha Cruz drive where the old Philippine Standard plant was; the site of the ARCO paper and cardboard factory which we used to be able to smell and hear from our subdivision. I catalogued  the updates to my mental Google Street View and filed away old memories in my nostalgia baul.

Like my village, my own ancestral home had also changed and adapted to the age and lifestyles of my family who still lived there.  Half the prized lawn which my dad kept as a vanity project (even arranging for regular tanker deliveries of water to sustain) have been given over to growing, fruit, vegetables, and herbs.  The clan of shih-tzus had passed on, now it;s one dachsund in heat and a frustrated pomeranian unable to fulfil its biological imperative because of the height difference (admittedly not much of a gap, but just enough to deny all attempts at coupling).  

But I was finally home, to my family.

Day 3 Tuesday

It was time to reconnect with friends.  I reached out to them so they could find room for me in to their busy schedules, after all I was on vacation, they were not.  Whenever they were available is when I would see them.  First was a very close friend from high school who suffered a personal tragedy in the past year.  I learned about it via social media last year, but I never got around to contacting him and offer my condolences. Somehow, writing a reply to their post with stock expressions of sorrow and a sad / care emoji felt trite and grossly insincere. I wanted to be there personally and offer comfort.

We spent an evening dining in Makati's 'Little Tokyo' updating each other on what's happened to us in the last seven years since we saw each other.  In times past we would've hit a beerhouse and wrapped up the the night iat a massage parlor, this time neither of has had the desire nor inclination.  Like the Goldilocks on Pasong Tamo, such indulgences had receded into history.  We bid each other goodbye before boarding our ride-share cars for our respective homes.  

I was surprised to find my mother still playing mahjong with my niece, bayaw and sister. I normally would get home around 4am every time I was out drinking with "the boys".

Carpe Diem

Started the day baking muffins to take to work (banana apple mocha).  Finished my delivery shift before the stroke of noon. It was a short run, but for which I am grateful.  It allowed me to swing by a friend's place and borrow his power hose.  I was home by half past noon, so I chucked my fluoros into the washer, as I sat to lunch.  

Then I set an alarm for 1615H to make sure I get to my next job at 5pm.  I plan to make a good impression.  I put on some mambo music, hung up my fluoros and got outside to clean my roof gutters while I still had the momentum.   Something I've been planning to do for ages but has now become urgent -since the real estate inspection politely asked me to get it done.  As well as clean the outside of cobwebs.  Hence the loan of the power hose.

It took a bit of creative engineering to relocate the ladder along the length of the gutters, with the ground uneven, overgrown, and narrow.  Which reminds me I need to use the mower soon too. On occasion my recollection of destination fucked videos saved me from taking foolish risks, something in my head clicks and I can see the video of me heading into disaster.  This is when I put on my safety supervisor hat and chide myself into doing better and eliminate, avoid, or mitigate the risks.  Operation complete, no injuries to report, just had enough time to pack up the ladder and get changed for my first kitchen shift since 2021.

I arrived at the restaurant 5 minutes early, met the owners and got settled in.  We did 35 covers and at no point was I stressed, I didn't even get a hint of imposter syndrome.  This was just like being an agency chef all over again: new kitchen, new menu, get to work.

Today is one of those satisfying days, yes I had it seized!

Carbon and Oxygen Orgies

Otherwise known as fire.  Having a functioning fireplace has been an aspirational fantasy of mine since I was young. Back then the closest thing to cold climate I could travel to was Baguio or Tagaytay. The places we stayed at featured fireplaces but it just wasn't "cold enough" to be worth the bother of making a fire.  Well? It's middle of winter in the Blue Mountains, let's fire it up!

It's my third winter with a fireplace now so I've tried all sorts of ways to start fires and sustain fires. Some work better than others, there are many abandoned methods once I find  better ones.

What I have distilled it down to is a complex understanding of chemistry, physics, biology, electro-magnetic radiation, bernoulli, venturi, laminar and turbulent flows  -it's a fucking rabbit hole. 

The simple equation is 

FUEL + OXYGEN + HEAT = FIRE.  

In my specific use case that would be

WOOD + AIR + HEAT = FIRE

What do we mean by HEAT?  Specifically the temperature identified as the kindling point of the material ie. fuel.  Rubbing your hands together can get warm but not enough to set fire to anything, we need a match or a lighter.  These are good for lighting birthday candles, gas barbecues, or joints. However, holding a lighter under a log is not going to do anything. You need a big fire to start a big fire. What keeps this from becoming a Catch-22 is that it is possible to turn a small fire into a big fire. All it needs is a gradual or stepped increase in the supply of fuel. The best part is that the initial burn increases the heat energy which allows the consumption of more fuel which then burns and makes more heat.  When you understand this, it gets scary watching bushfires or building fires.  

It's hard to control fire once it's got away.  From this perspective, I can imagine fire as an energy being we humans somehow domesticated. We can spawn these beings at will to serve our needs, whether it is to drive a steam train, or candle-light to read by.  

I've decided to name each fire that I ignite at my fireplace.  Fire "Steve" was born late last night. I made a thin bed twigs for a base.  I covered it with  shredded and crumpled newspaper. I held it down with chunks of charcoal left over from the previous fire (thanks fire "Bernard" 21-24 July 2023). I then layer more twigs over the top making sure to use the skinniest twigs first and saving the thicker branches for later. At this stage no twigs are thicker than my finger. Using a lighter I ignited random corners of newspaper that I could get to.  Soon all the newspaper was alight.  This flareup in turn ignites the layer of tiny twigs, which then ignites the layer above.  As the fire grows I add more and bigger sticks of wood.  The fire gets fed bigger fuel as soon as the energy is sufficient to ignite larger and larger pieces of wood.  If I do this well, I can get the fire to the stage I call the "log-eater", that's when I know that the fire is hot enough it will consume a new log as soon as there's room to chuck one in.   

I thought that we could express the formula as

CARBON + OXYGEN + HEAT = MORE HEAT + CARBON DIOXIDE + CARBON 

In this context I imagine CARBON atoms are solid particles that tend to form crystalline structures like diamonds and coal or cellulose (wood). 

I imagine OXYGEN as a gas particle always looking for something to react with, even if it's just another OXYGEN atom (O2 and Ozone wave hello to everyone).  Reaction can take a long time like rust (Fe + O), or rapid burn (C+O2). OXYGEN is a promiscuous reactant but is surprisingly faithful when attached to a pair of HYDROGEN (H2O). 

So CARBON is like "the catch" and OXYGEN are like "the suitors". 

OXYGEN: Hey you, want to become one with me ?

CARBON: Can't you see I'm an integral part of this structure?

OXYGEN: Can you feel the excitement?  I'm ready to bond.  Come on. 

CARBON: Oh wait it is getting hot in here, but I'm not sure I'm ready to leave my crystal.

OXYGEN: OH it's really hot now, come on you can have two of us even!

CARBON: OH my YES! Let's. 

For a brief moment ,they have the craziest union particles can have and release electro-magnetic radiation in the form of heat(infra-red)  and light (visible spectrum).  The exhausted combined particles of CARBON DIOXIDE (CO2) float away as smoke taking some heat along with it.  I picture CARBON with an OXYGEN on each arm stumbling out of the club.  

I tried my best to not ascribe specific gender types in my analogy, if it upsets you, try reversing the gender assignment and see if that works better.  Or you can just imagine it all as just one gender. 

What then blew my mind was that plants use the CO2 to make food by photosynthesis. Using the electromagnetic energy of the sun to process H2O and CO2 to form carbohydrates and releasing O2 back. 

Throughout the life of fire "Steve"  he may need to be re-kindled, like when left overnight and is on embers.  A few twigs and kindling and "Steve" is ready to be raised to log-eater status.  On occasion I may leave it for too long and need to resuscitate.  

Eventually though, all fires must die.  When that happens, Steve's remains will be used to help birth the next fire.