Face To FAce

After 27 months of convincing, countless changes of mind, 2 visa applications, never ending reasons not to visit me in this far flung place called Middle East, she has finally boarded the plane and will be joining me at last. Finally, I will see her again face to face.

It took more than a year before I managed to talk her to give up her job. I thought she would join me after she quit her job. She was waiting for me to fetch her as I actually planned to have a break then return with her to Doha. My workload did not permit and numerous snags came my way until she gave up waiting and went to see our children back in the Philippines with the message “If you want to see me, find me in Philippines”.

My vacation had finally pushed through. But I did not manage to bring her with me. This time, she will look after our son who is preparing to join the National Service. Initially, our son’s medical report indicates that he has high cholesterol level and he needs to keep in shape and lower down his cholesterol level. After a week waiting for the doctor’s appointment, it takes another 2 weeks to wait for the result. This “medical” thing is working on her favor…aaahhhh….

The result came in, everything is fine. When they submitted the medical result, they were told that the report initially sent to our son have errors. So, all the while, my son is fine. But before I can celebrate, a notice came inviting the parents to tour the training facilities for the National Servicemen. Puffff….. Another month to wait for the tour….

Then came the yearend thanksgiving…. No more excuses…..

Now she is in the plane at last. In five hours, I will be fetching her at the airport…. I will see her face to face at last…..

My goal now is to make her comfortable, make her like my place, so she can decide to be with me, face to face for the longest time…..

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Balikbayan Box

Ask any Overseas Filipino Worker (OFW) about Balikbayan Box, the likelihood would be 99.99% knows what a Balikbayan Box is, 90% (may) had sent at least once during his/her tenure overseas, 90% (may) had brought with him/her in his/her first return to the Philippines and 85% (may) had sent more than once.

What is a Balikbayan Box anyway?

Generally, it is a cardboard box which contains small items or just about anything and sent by OFW often through freight forwarders, or brought by Filipinos returning to the Philippines.

But to an OFW, Balikbayan Box has a deeper purpose and meaning.

Balikbayan Box has become a symbol of Filipino’s generosity. It is a cultural expectation from a returning Filipino to bring gifts to family, friends and colleagues left behind in the Philippines. To the eyes of strangers, the sight of a Filipino with a 3 to 4 boxes at an airport check-in counter is puzzling.

Balibayan Box manifests the Filipino propensity to accommodate his relatives, barkadas, neighbors and even his/her favorite teacher during school days.

Balikbayan Box may contain small items, but has brought immeasurable happiness and endless smiles to the recipient not to mention the sheer joy and unuttered delight to the sender.

Unfortunately, I am not a believer in a Balikbayan box. Throughout my 14 years abroad I had sent 2 balikbayan boxes. In both occasions, majority of its contents were my used belongings. If there were any new items in it, it is just to fill the box. However, I beg not to be judged as tight-fisted pure Ilocano something. I have my own views to justify myself.

My main reasons would be patronizing our local products and the economic impact as a result.

Whether you agree or not, balikbayan box more often than not contains items that are already available back home.

I remember when I was young, our grandmother received a balikbayan box from our uncle living in the US. She would place the box at the center of the living room upstairs and call everyone. She will open the box and ask everyone to grab one for each. As you would expect a lot of pushing and shoving only to find out most of the items were labeled with someone’s name. There were these items, pairs of pants actually, which doesn’t have a label. So everyone was grabbing for the pants, a tug ensued amongst my uncles, aunts and cousins trying to have the pants to their possession and I was just watching at the corner. When they realized that the pairs of pants were actually made in the Philippines, suddenly the pants were ignored.

A typical colonial mentality syndrome, huh… Anything imported is classy…

Back to my reasoning…

If only the money spent on these balikbayan boxes were sent back home and spent locally, multiply that by a millions of folds. It would definitely stimulate the local economy which will then translate to job creations. A job creation would mean another player in the economy and the ripple effect would be endless.

Having said that, Filipinos dwells more emotionally and culturally that outweighs the economic rationale of the benefits of sending money than in kind.

On the downside, only few amongst our love ones understands the challenges and sacrifices an OFW would go through to fill up that balikbayan box. To say that you would go through an eye of a needle would be an understatement. How many of these balikbayan box senders would spend more than half of his/her salary just to fill up and send a balikbayan box. How many would run into financial difficulties just to regularly send a balikbayan box and to realize the expectations of an unsuspecting love ones.

How many balikbayan box senders will go home at the end of the day with just a balikbayan box as possession….

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Disclosure Policy

This policy is valid from 02 December 2009

This blog is a personal blog written and edited by me. This blog accepts forms of cash advertising, sponsorship, paid insertions or other forms of compensation.

The compensation received may influence the advertising content, topics or posts made in this blog. That content, advertising space or post may not always be identified as paid or sponsored content.

The owner of this blog is compensated to provide opinion on products, services, websites and various other topics. Even though the owner of this blog receives compensation for his posts or advertisements, I always give my honest opinions, findings, beliefs, or experiences on those topics or products. The views and opinions expressed on this blog are purely the bloggers' own. Any product claim, statistic, quote or other representation about a product or service should be verified with the manufacturer, provider or party in question.

This blog does contain content which might present a conflict of interest. This content may not always be identified.

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Passport Blues

During my last vacation, I spend most of the time traveling. My plans had some snags that I had to extend my vacation for about a week. The main detriment to my plans is the renewal of my passport.

Before I left Doha, I realized that my passport was expiring within less than six months. I thought I would have some problems at the airport when departing from Philippine airport as the immigration officer normally verifies that your passport is valid for at least 6 months. Naturally, one of my plans actually was to renew my passport.

Since I would be renewing my passport, we have decided to renew all our passports. And at the same time overcoming the ever-changing “requirements” from the DFA officer. Sometimes, they require just either one of the parents of a minor renewing its passport and sometimes they insist both parents to be present.

As planned, we went to the DFA office in La Union to renew our passports. As we are waiting for our queue, I was thinking to “talk” to the officer if our passport can be expedited as I will be catching my flight back to Singapore on the 18 August. Everything went well as prepared by my wife, all the requirements were in order.

When our turn was called, we were asked what do we prefer, express or ordinary. It would take seven and fourteen days for express and ordinary respectively and obviously it would cost you more for an express. I thought to myself, if they can do it in seven days, why drag it for fourteen days, what is the difference. But it is useless to argue, your will just end up wasting your time. And so we opted for an express processing.

Unfortunately, the release of our passports will be on 2 September. It would be too late for my return to Singapore and back to Doha. I talked to the officer but they were unable to assist further as the new machine readable passports are all coming from Manila. We were advised instead to process our renewal in DFA Manila in order for us to have the passports earliest in seven days.

We proceeded to process our children’s passport at the Regional office and take the trip to Manila the following night.

Me and my wife took the 10pm trip to Manila and managed to reached DFA head office at about 5am. We thought that we were early but when we reached the holding area, the basketball court which serves as the holding area was already a third full. When they distributed queue number I was already at number 119. By the time they opened the counters, the applicants already spilled the holding area.

God knows what number we would be holding if we took a breakfast upon arrival at the bus terminal. Hungry and thirsty, we are not able to leave our lines otherwise we will just be having unnecessary arguments with fellow applicant if they thought we are cutting the queue. Fortunately enough, my wife has a bottle of water with her that we shared during this ordeal.

Once the counter was opened, the process (step by step procedure) was rather smooth until we reached the third step. We were asked again if we prefer express or ordinary. I asked the staff if they can process it in three days. He said it can be done but I need to talk to the officer in charge, in the meantime he put and marked my paper as express. He told me where to find the officer in charge and off I go.

When I was talking to the officer in charge and explained to her my situation, she rudely replied that it can be done but how would she know if I am really a resident in Singapore. So, we showed our Singapore Identification Card to satisfy her that we are indeed a permanent residents in Singapore. Then suddenly, she has another requirement, she wants to see our confirmed tickets which unfortunately we did not brought with us. I told her that we left it at home but she asked us to go and get it. Fuming inside I explained that we came from the province and took a six hour trip, it would be impractical to go back and bring the tickets just to show to her. I requested some consideration but she did not budge.

I tried and tried for her consideration but fell to deaf ears. And then she said, “Please excuse me, I have to go, we are half-day today”. I glanced at my wife’s watch and it is 8:30am, my wife’s watch could have been late I thought so checked my mobilephone and it was indeed 8:30am and she call it a day? Oh well, I forgot I’m in the Philippines.

I resigned and just contented with the seven day processing.

We managed to finish our renewals and my wife even managed to process other documents that I need for me to arrange her papers to join me in Doha. It was about 9:30 when we left the DFA building. As we walked towards the entrance of the compound, the queue was unbelievable. You cannot drop a pin on the holding area and the line continuous beyond the entrance which is about 200m away. I wonder, if they ever processed all the applicants on that day.

To what I heard is that DFA is issuing 4,000 passports a day. That’s how many Filipinos so desperate to get out of the country, be it temporarily or permanently. What does this represents? What does this portray to the Philippines as a country or to its leadership at the least? But then, the country’s leadership is quick to sugarcoat the reality about their shortcomings by priding itself as one of the major manpower exporter, duhh…

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Vacation 2009

Almost three month since I came back from my vacation, I haven’t posted anything about what happened during my short break. My updates were increasingly becoming irregular due to some changes that I need to adjust as already mentioned in my other post.

Tonight I brought home some works that I am rushing which I need to deliver by Sunday, and I am kind of stuck that I cannot think how to proceed with my work, my brain had ceased and refused to process anymore information about work. So I Thought I’ll take a break from my works and look back on my recent vacation.

Looking back, while I was waiting to board the plane back to my family I made some impromptu plans how to make the most of my short vacation. I wonder how I fared with my self-imposed plans.

“I plan to travel to Baguio with my wife to visit my dentist sister. Had an overnight in Baguio, take the first trip back to my place to catch the 10am worship service on Sunday”. Well, it didn’t happened, but, we took the trip on Sunday after our worship service instead of Saturday and rushing back on Sunday for the worship service.


“Monday, would be set for renewing our passports. I bet that my whole Monday would be spent “specially”for DFA.” This happened, though this needs a separate post about me and my wife’s passport renewal.

I cannot post our passports individually in here, but as proof, the above was a bonus as in “not in my plans”. Our very first “Family Photo” after taking our individual passport photos.

“Maybe a lunch in a restaurant, at Max or Midtown or a nice place..”


A testament that it happened..


“..it would just be nice to visit my family, mother, brothers, sisters and in-laws”.


Karaoke time with family and in-laws..


“Maybe a whole day at the beach with the whole family and friends.”






“Barbeques, sea foods and lots of pork, hehehhe…”



That’s lot pork, the ribs are spared though…


“Sunday again, Family Day.”



I guesse I managed all my plans to happen. The least I can say, I enjoyed my vacation and looks forward for my next trip in four months time…

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Signs That You Are A Facebook Addict

Signs That You Are A Facebook Addict

1. 
   
   You’re starting a fight with your children for your turn with the computer.
   
   
   
2. 
   
   You often use the phrase “I’m your mother/father, you listen to me” when trying to over-extend your turn with the computer.
   
   
   
3. 
   
   You don’t mind the smoke, the noise and strangers in an internet shop just to check on your “farm”.
   
   
   
4. 
   
   You are more worried of your “Farm” than you house being flooded by Ondoy.
   
   
   
5. 
   
   You called your friends to harvest for you at the onslaught of typhoon Ondoy, but you forgot to ask them to rescue you.
   
   
   
6. 
   
   You misuse the word “HARVEST” when you actually referring to “salary”.
   
   
   
7. 
   
   You use your mobilephone to check your Facebook every now and then, unknowingly shooting up your bill.
   
   
   
8. 
   
   You believe “ENERGY PACK” can make you awake and last the whole night.
   
   
   
9. 
   
   You thought milk chocolate comes from brown cows.
   
   
   
10. 
    
    You thought peanuts comes form elephants.
    
    
    
11. 
    
    You thought strawberries grows within two hours.
    
    
    
12. 
    
    You thought you can use a jack hammer in a war.
    
    
    
13. 
    
    You thought zombie cow is a vehicle.
    
    
    
14. 
    
    You thought your Japanese name is cute.
    
    
    
15. 
    
    You thought you are not actually your age.
    
    
    
16. 
    
    You thought you can sell your friends when you have misunderstandings.
    
    
    
17. 
    
    You are joining a cause to expand Farmville.
    
    
    
18. 
    
    You are referring to your friends as “neighbors”.
    
    
    
19. 
    
    You tend to ask a new acquaintance, “Do you have facebook?”.
    
    
    
20. 
    
    You try to search for your former classmates, hoping that you can reconnect.
    
    
    

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Away From Home: Survive, Out-wit, Out-play, Out-last

I have not been writing lately since I came back from my vacation. The atmosphere at the workplace has changed dramatically since I left for my long outstanding break. The name of the “game“ has changed to survival. To out-wit, out-play and out-last are your options to stay “alive”.

Colleagues were sporting a long face, not-in-the-mood attitude and too laid back and unmotivated to their works. Management has been insisting for demobilization of staffs from our project down to a skeleton framework which the Site Management has been opposing that such demobilization is premature as works are still to be completed. However, Site Management was overruled by the Executive Director.

Such demobilization plan has been unhelpful to the progress of the Project, literally and as a consequence. Literally, as the manpower and staff are reduced means lesser resources to complete the outstanding works. And as a consequence, people tend to slow down and drag the work as long as possible. This is due to the fact that there is no clear plan for the staffs if there is new project after our current project is completed. Where will they be transferred, at the least? Or will they be released / terminated.

Worries amongst employees are further fueled by rumors that an engineer was given a 1-month notice after he declined to be transferred to Saudi Arabia without giving him the option if he opted not to be transferred. Administration has discretely asked him if he wanted to move to Saudi Arabia which he said he has no plan. After a week or so, the engineer was surprised that he received a month notice for termination.

To add salt to the bleeding wound, at the end of his notice he is short of a week to have 5 years with the company which will entitle him for a 28 days per year of service as end-of –service-entitlement. He will have to content himself for 21 days per year of service.

Skilled workers has been drastically reduced and transferred to Saudi Arabia. Non-manual staffs were already scheduled for demobilization starting end of this month. Staffs wanted to stay but ironically their “performance” has declined to justify they deserve to be retained in the Project.

This demobilization issue has not spared me to worry about tomorrow. The Project Manager has informed me that my department is due to demobilize by end of October. I managed to justify to the Project Manager for my department to stay up to the last billing of the Project. However, higher management has the last say. Now one of my quantity surveyors is too worried as the demobilization plan has somehow leaked and he is to be demobilized end of October.

I have started to assess what would be my options should this demobilization comes too early.

1. Move to the next project (within Qatar)
2. Look for a new employer in Qatar
3. Deploy to Saudi Arabia
4. Move back to Singapore

Option 1 is bleak as no new project in Qatar is at hand. Our tendering department is chasing against time to secure new project for staffs affected by the impending demobilization.

Option 2 is ruled out. Qatar labor market is base on sponsorship system, your company is your sponsor. You cannot jump to another employer without your company’s consent. Company is unlikely to issue a No Objection Certificate (NOC).

Option 3 is feasible. My only worry is about my religious freedom. Saudi Arabia is known for its strict Islamic policies about other religion specially towards Christianity. Stories had it, exercising your religion in this Islamic country will cause you lashing or worst, beheading.

Option 4 would be the most feasible and safest option on my table. Not to mention my wife’s long pleadings to go back to Singapore. As the famous adage goes, killing 2 birds with one stone. Safe working environment and giving-in to wife’s pleadings.

In the meantime, I will fight for my career survival in this far flung place. I will just perform my duty as what I am contracted to perform and take one battle at a time to survive this war. The rest I leave it to God.

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Pamamaalam Sa Tagapamahala

Pamama-alam sa Tagapamahala

By: Anonymous

Nakakalungkot isipin na ikaw ay wala na,

Ang totoo, kaming lahat, hindi makapaniwala.

Itinatanggi ng puso pati ng aming kaluluwa,

Yaong katotohanan na ikaw ay pumanaw na.

Paano ba sasabihin? Saan magsisimula?

Kailan matatanggap ng aming gunita?

Na ikaw na nanguna sa buong Iglesia,

Ay kinuha na ng Diyos at pinagpahinga na.

Sobrang sakit sa damdamin ng malaman ang balita,

Kaming lahat, kahit saan, ngayon ay nagluluksa.

Sapagkat sa aming isip hanggang ngayo'y sariwa pa,

Ang pagdiriwang na isinagawa ng buong Iglesia.

Noong Hulyo 27, natipon kaming lahat,

Sa iba't ibang panig ng mundo, kaming lahat, nagsigayak.

Mga hinirang ay nagdiwang ng buong galak,

Buong pusong nangako na magpapakatapat.

Napahanga ang lahat sa nakitang kaisahan,

Ng lahat ng hinirang sa mga huling araw.

Hindi nakubli ang dakilang katotohanan,

Na ang Iglesia'y nagniningning sa buong sanlibutan!

Ngayon, kaming lahat na iyong naulila,

Ay nagdadalamhati, hindi mapigil ang pagluha.

Marami ang tulala at hindi makagawa,

Sapagkat ang balita tungkol sa'yo'y totoo nga.

Ang higit sa lahat na aming ipinagluluksa,

Napakalayo namin sa aming sariling lupa,

Gustuhin man namin na ikaw ay makita pa,

Pasensiya ka na po, pero wala kaming magawa.

Ngayon, ito po ang aming dalangin,

Sa ating Ama na napakabuti sa atin;

"Ama, patuloy Ka pong maawa sa amin,

Huwag kaming pababayaan, patuloy Mo po kaming kupkupin."

Kapatid na Eraño G. Manalo, Ka Erdie, kung tawagin,

Mananatili ka po sa aming mga damdamin.

Mga tagubilin na ipina-abot sa amin,

Pagsisikapan po namin na laging tuparin.

Doon sa Bayang Banal na pangako sa atin,

Tayo ay magkita-kita na taglay ang tungkulin.

Patuloy na umawit, Ang Ama ay purihin!

Kasama ni Jesus na umibig sa atin.

Amen.

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25 Minutes

After six months of waiting, 5 times reset, I am going home to see my family which I had been away for ten long months. I finally reach the airport and get past the immigration officer. Finally, I will be boarding that plane in twenty five (25) minutes.

Though it will still take me about eight hours to reach Singapore, ten hours of rest, another three hours of flight to Clark, and four hours of bus ride. Men, that’s twenty five hours before I can feel my wife’s loving embrace…ehhheemm. Counting hours is too dragging but at least it is far more better than counting days or months.

I have a simple plan to make the most of my 14 days of break, 3 days of which is spent on traveling. And so, I better make the most of the eleven remaining days I will be with my love ones.

If everything falls into place, I will be reaching home 8 August at 10am. I plan to travel to Baguio with my wife to visit my dentist sister. Have an overnight stay in Baguio, take the first trip back to my place to catch the 10am worship service on Sunday.

Just in time to take the whole family for a treat after the worship service. Maybe a lunch in a restaurant, at Max or Midtown or a nice place, after all it is just once in a while.

Monday, would be set for renewing our passports. I bet that my whole Monday would spent “specially”for DFA.

Tuesday to Wednesday. Since my children would be in school, it would just be nice to visit my family, mother, brothers, sisters and in-laws.

I would be looking forward for Saturday. Maybe a whole day at the beach with the whole family and friends. Barbeques, sea foods and lots of pork, hehehhe. No such thing in the Middle East as you know. I would indulge myself with it. But I would be mindful with the thin line between indulgence and gluttony.

Sunday again, Family Day.

And so on.

That is, if everything falls into place as I have mentioned earlier. What I am afraid is that, most of the time I plan things, it wouldn't happen. Wish me luck.

I got to go now, my 25 minutes is done. Got to board that plane before I’ll miss it.

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Paying My Last Respect

It’s almost three weeks now since my last post in my blog. I was too tied up with work that I am too drained by the time I reach home, and even if I still have that last ounce of energy, work follows me home. Except tonight, I must post this memorable day of my journey as an OFW. Memorable not because I want to remember this day, but because it has enlightened me in someway about life as an OFW. Today, I paid my last respect to a great colleague.

This week is a tragic week for us as a company. We lost a colleague, our Deputy Construction Manager. He did most of the house chores the night before and putting his kids to bed. His eldest tried to wake him up to send her to school the following day, but he never woke up. He passed away.

Last Thursday when I was about to leave for work, Mamang, in the laundry, called me and told me that June died just today and Sir Manny went to his house to check on the family. I was shocked. I was just discussing with him about work the day before. When I reached our workplace, the carpark area was almost empty. When I reached my office, our tea boy asked me if I already knew what happened to June. Our quantity surveyor also came by my office and asked me. The news about June has reached everyone in the company.

Today, our Project Manager has shortened the working hours to 4:00pm for everyone to pay a last respect to June. They will offer June a simple rite at the hospital’s mortuary. Since this country is an Islamic country, they don’t have a proper place in a hospital like a small chapel for such a simple rite. June’s wife has requested the hospital for the simple rite. She also requested for her to bathe June and to dress him up for the rite.

We arrived at the mortuary about 4:30pm, my group was among the first to arrive. We offer condolence to the grieved family, especially to the wife. As we are waiting for the rest, I sat at the waiting area. I watched everyone who arrived and every time someone offers their condolence to the wife she cries on their shoulders. It is a very sad sight to see. I really feel the wife’s grief that every time she cries on someone else shoulder, I feel that I also wanted to cry. Frankly, I am holding back my tears because I cannot avoid to think the “what if’s” that crop up to my mind. As much as I wanted not to think about it, it just sticks to my mind.

Then June’s children arrived, they’re very young to be in such a situation. Nine, four and almost two, they are too young to understand what’s happening around them. And to think that they just joined their father here in Doha two and a half month ago. It is really devastating. Their only consolation was that they have lived with their father for the last two and a half month, before he left.

I already reached home, but still I am thinking about June’s family. I just wish that they can make it through the hard times ahead of them. Specially the wife who is left alone to raise three young children, fend and provide for them. I wish she’ll come to terms the soonest that June will no longer be around. I wish her all the strength to be the father and mother of her children.

Paying my last respect to June and witnessing the grief and suffering of his wife has someway enlightened my views on being an OFW. More often than not, OFW’s are out there making and earning as much as he/she can. That sometimes, family time is sacrificed if not forgotten. That sometimes, work is more important than quality time with the family. That sometimes we tend to forget, that once we die we can be replaced the next day or two in our work, but our family can never replace us and once they lost us, they will grieve for a very long time.

But for June, he chose to be with his family in the last moments of his life.

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Applicant from Hell

About 4 weeks ago we had this one job applicant which I thought could have been the worst I’ve ever seen and the worst you’ll ever know, an applicant from hell.

Let’s call him PN. PN could have broken all the basic rules, etiquettes and guidelines on applying for a job. You would wonder if he is really looking for a job, testing the waters or just out there for other reasons only him could have known.

One of my boss’ visits to Doha, sometime last month, with him was curriculum vitae (CV) of PN. PN was applying as a Contract Administrator for one of our projects in Saudi Arabia. My boss is to interview PN during his visit here in Doha.

Two days before the planned interview, my boss has been trying to contact PN using his contact numbers provided in PN’s CV. Unfortunately, my boss was unable to contact him and so he called the other number provided from the CV. He spoke to PN’s mother-in-law and to PN’s wife.

Fast-forward to the day of the interview.

PN was scheduled for an interview at 4PM on that day. The very first opportunity you’ll make a good impression to your prospective employer is you punctuality. Unfortunately, PN must have been absent or sleeping in his class when punctuality was taught. PN called my boss at 4:30PM, half hour late from his scheduled interview.

To make things worst, PN was asking direction to my boss how to get to our office. As my boss is having a discussion, he referred PN to our secretary to guide him and give him directions. Taking the situation on a lighter note, my boss jokingly commented, “This is a Filipino, they always get lost”.

At last, PN reached our office at about 5:15PM. Since my boss was already occupied according to his plans, PN was asked to wait for a while as we are wrapping up our discussions. As he is waiting to be called, instead of asking the secretary of some general information about our company, PN is more interested how many Filipinas are working with the company or any Filipinas also working in our Head Office in Riyadh.

It seems that PN also forgot to bring with him a copy of his CV, as he was asking the secretary if she has internet access and asking favor if she could download and print his CV.

As we finished our discussion, my boss asked me and my colleague to browse through PN’s CV for 5 minutes, he instructed us to conduct the interview. As I was browsing through his CV, I was surprised that he is a lawyer, a bar passer back in the Philippines. I thought to myself how a professional like him could have failed to be punctual in his interview.

I could have forgiven him for such one-time lapse on his part, but as we proceeded with the interview, I couldn’t see why he is here in the first place. We asked him to guide us through about him previous works, his job responsibilities and his experience relevant to the position he is applying for.

I can honest tell you, he was unable to elaborate convincingly what were his job responsibilities. He is like a “puto-kutsinta” salesman trying to sell a car. He was trying hard, the more he talked, the more it becomes clear to me that he did not prepare his own CV or he is not what he claims to be.

At the middle of the interview, his phone rang. Without excusing himself, he answered his call and the 3 of us we left looking at each other while PN talked to someone at the other end. Being his countryman, I felt very ashamed and wish I wasn’t there in that room.

As we continue interviewing PN, my boss must have heard and seen enough, he asked PN what he is really applying for. Surprisingly, he is not also sure but his CV indicates that he is applying for a Contract Administrator position. My boss asked if we have other positions, what would he apply for. Again, PN is not sure what to answer.

Finally, as a courtesy, PN was asked to reconfirm his contact details just incase he will be called for further discussion. My boss casually asked if his wife knew his number here in Qatar and PN answered affirmatively.

When PN has left, my boss gave me his notes on PN’s CV and asked to send it to Head Office. There was a note which reads, “He is a liar, I called the wife this morning and she doesn’t know his number, she hasn’t even spoken to him for more than a year, she didn’t even know he is in Qatar:”

I can swear to my neighbor’s grave, PN was the worst candidate I’ve ever met. He is an applicant from hell.

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For The Nth Times

If plans had pushed through, by now I should be now in the Philippines with my family, visiting friends and relatives. Unfortunately, four days before my booked flight to Singapore I was asked to postpone my vacation for another six weeks. For the nth times, my vacation was put on hold.

I’ve been planning to have my vacation since March 2009, to catch up with my kids that I haven’t been with for more than a year now. The last time I was with them was in April 2008. Except for Jae, our first daughter, which I spent a week with her in Singapore in October 2008 when she dropped by to register for her Identification Card (IC).

My March plan did not push through because my wife had decided to stay and continue with her work. Our plan was for her to join me in my return to Doha. Since she decided to stay with her work, we agreed that I will just catch up with our kids school break in late April or May.

My kids’ school breaks usual starts in the first week of April and they normally join their mother in Singapore to spend their school break. This was the plan, for me to join them before they go back to school.

I and my wife were planning to treat the kids for a weekend get away to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, a one-day tour to Johor Bahru or a weekend cruise. Everything has been put on plan and anxiously waiting for it to happen, that will start to be realized once I board the plane out from Doha to join my family.

Things had come to another snag in the middle part of April. Our illustrious Executive Project Director has issued a memo, cancelling all leaves until our project is completed. At that time my leave was already approved, I was supposed to take my leave from May 22, but with the EPD memo it became bleak like a monsoon rain clouds.

I tried to talk to our Project Manager and explained to him how important for me to go home as planned as I am catching up with my kids. Once they go back to school, I can only able to spend with them evenings during my break. Of course our PM understands, but he was overruled.

Why is it that when you plan something, most likely than not, it won’t never happen. But things that aren’t planned happens. Life is so impromptu.

I had devised a plan to get my leave re-approved which I successfully maneuvered and bargained with the EPD which I already mentioned in my other post. I applied sixteen days and was cut down to ten days starting from June 5. I said at least I can have a week with my kids before they go back to school.

Hurdles after another hurdles came my way, this time I postpone again my leave from June 26 to July 7 due to financial difficulty. I am no longer able to catch up with my kids’ school break. I will just content myself and make the most of quality time I can have with them once my leave starts.

June 22, 2009 for the nth times, four days before I board that plane out from here, I was asked to postpone my leave, again. Due to some urgent works that our company has decided to work on internally, three of us were asked to postpone our vacations and finish the job.

We understand how important our new assignment for the project as a whole, and no other staffs are able to deliver except the three of us with some guidance from Head Office Management, we have no choice.

Coincidentally, the three of us are scheduled for a vacation and all that was thrown away to the drain. As a motivation though, we were promised for a weekend get away to an undisclosed location. This is what I worry, if things are planned, it won’t happen. We will see if the bosses will deliver their promise or it will just evaporates just like a puddle of water under the Arabian sun.

My re-scheduled vacation now will be from August 7 to 17. I only wish my kids will let these delays come to pass and will not hold me too guilty for not having time with. I wish that they will realize why I am away in the first place. And I wish I will have the time to make up with them and promise them for the last time, “I will be home”.

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Father's Day... Have I Been A Good Father

Tomorrow the world celebrates what they call “Father’s Day”. I ask myself, do I deserve a Father’s Day…. Have I been a good father to deserve a Father’s Day? Sighs!!!... Maybe it is wise to look back if I’ve been a good father.

I can’t remember much about my children when they were young. Except that I have looked after my eldest when he was still a baby and I was attending school. After I joined the work force, I unconsciously started to drift away from my children.

I loved the idea of coming home and having them sit on my lap and horsing around. Unfortunately, I only come home on weekends and not to mention late at night that I was only able to kiss them good-night after they had gone to sleep and only to leave before they wake up.

When my children aged 3, 2 and 6 months old, I moved farther away from them, just the ages when their daddy means everything to them. I wished that I could have spent more time with my children but I was too busy working and coping to provide. After all, I wanted to give them all the things I never had when I was growing up.

Little did I know that they had grown up. I missed seeing them in school plays, pinning their ribbons and putting on their medals. Everyone said they were intelligent and independent which I content myself keeping the pride in my heart. The kids never complained, but I could see the disappointment in their eyes. I kept promising that I would have more time "next year.", that “next year” will be my turn to pin those ribbons, But as our needs increases, the less time there seemed to be.

Suddenly they were no longer twelve, eleven and nine. They were fourteen, fifteen and seventeen, Teenagers. And I am still stuck in the rat race. I am beginning to worry that I won’t see my daughters the night they go out on their first dates or my son's joining the National Service. I know my wife will be there to patch up stories for my excuse. And they will say they understand, but I would hear their disappointment in their voices.

Few more years, those little kids are eighteen, nineteen and twenty-one in their university. My job will be less demanding and I will finally have time for them. But they will have their own interests and there is no time for me. To be perfectly honest, that would hurt me immeasurably and all the regrets in my life put together cannot compare to that final regret.

It seems like yesterday that they were four, five and seven. But they are gone now, and so is my chance to be a real dad.

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Seven Longest Days

I can’t wait for that day to come. From today, my countdown begins. Seven longest days, before I am again with my wife. It was November 13, 2008 the last time I was with her when she sees me to the airport on my departure back to Doha, that was 218 days ago. Seven days from now, I am back to her embrace. Seven Longest Days…

What’s makes it more special this time is that she will be joining me in my return to Doha after my short break. Oh my… no wonder why the days keeps dragging and I feel that it seems it is in a standstill. Seven Longest Days, is just what I have to countdown but I wish I can just push the “next” button and there you are its Friday again.

After almost 2 years of persuasion and endless phone calls, video calls, chats whatever means the present technology can offer, she said YES… Nuh!!! Not that big “Will you marry me?” question like Mar Roxas recently did. But more than that, my wife said YES, she will be joining here in Doha.

The plan now is that she will be joining me in my return under a visit visa. Once she is here in Doha, we will be processing her Resident Permit (RP). Inshallah, as the locals says, she will have her RP and I can have my wife.
Frankly, it is so important for me for her to be with me. We’ve been married for eighteen (18) long years, but we’ve been away from each other most of the time. Maybe this time, I hope I can make-up for the lost time. She has her own sacrifices for our family that I am forever thankful. It would be much more meaningful to express my gratitude when she is by my side. If only I have means to let her live like a princess, I will be grateful to be her servant.

For now, I will still be counting down from seven. Seven Longest Days is just what I have to burn away.

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Visa Application

I have heard unfortunate stories about applying for a visa to Qatar. Visa application to some is a challenge, not to mention the rudeness of the personnel behind the counter add to that if you don’t know any letter in the Arabic alphabet much more to understand an Arabic word.

Disorderliness, rudeness, lack of courtesy, unprofessionalism and other negative adjective that you can think of, is what I was expecting when I went to the Airport Visa Office to apply for my wife’s visa.

But to my surprise, except the overwhelming Arabic signs, notices and posters, the staff behind the counter was very accommodating and helpful. Frankly, I was expecting a grumpy faced local trying to bully a foreigner but I experienced a total contrast to what I have been hearing above government employees.

It only took me less than ten minutes to go-in and go-out with my visa application sorted. I only spent QAR 100 for my visa application. The officer actually looks for my salary certificate but I just told him that I did not bring such certificate. He did not insist but only asked me how much my salary is. He took my word and processed my visa application.

I did not expect how smooth that would be. Even my colleague, was really surprised that she thought she should have arranged by herself her mother’s visa. She actually asked our admin to assist her with her mother’s visa and she paid QAR 250 as “processing fee”.

This is actually my first time to transact with government authorities here in Qatar. Thankfully, my wife’s visa application is a breeze.

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Wedding Anniversary

Today is our 18th Wedding Anniversary. And the nth time we spent our anniversary miles apart. I can’t even remember the last time we were with each other celebrating momentous occasion like this.

It could have been more meaningful if we are on each others arms telling her how much I love her. This time I would just content myself reminiscing how we found each other by reading our daughter’s essay she submitted in her class when they were asked to write about how their parents met.


MY PARENTS
By: Jae*********


My parents first met when they were in 2nd Grade. But neither one of them knew each other; they only found out that they were classmates then when they were already dating. My father transferred to other school in Kalinga-Apayao when he reach 3rd Grade, my mother continue to finished primary school at the school they first met.

When they reached high school my father came back to La Union and once again they were classmates from 1st year, but then again, they haven’t noticed each other. As my father relates, that time my mother was a “dark”, boyish and had a childish manner. On the other hand, my mother relates that he already noticed my father as an intelligent boy, “payatot” and nothing special.

My father continues that he began to notice my mother and started having special feeling towards her when they were in the 2nd year. Young as he was, he does not have the courage to express his feelings to her. And he sorted to expressing his feeling through letters to her. He asked his friend to give his anonymous letters to her hoping that she will write back. One letter, two, three, four letters had gone and no replies. When suddenly, he received a reply, he was so happy.

And then he continues to write, little did he knew, that his friend that he was sending his letter through have also a special feelings to my mother. My father did not know, that before his friend hands the letter to her, he reads it first, with his other friends. That started the teasing to both of them from the whole campus. The embarrassment and the teasing made them distant from each other. As long as there is a way to avoid each other, they will, just to avoid the teasing.

Years had past and this had been their way. Although, my mother confides that she already had a special feelings to him but she kept it inside. Until they graduated in high school, they never talked. They parted their ways without goodbyes. He studied in Baguio, she studied in Manila. Although, they are miles apart, they confide that they are thinking each other despite the fact that they don’t have any understanding, just a special feelings that they kept inside.

When he learned that she came back to La Union, he started sending her flowers. He would ask my aunt, his younger sister, to bring his flowers from Baguio to La Union every weekend as he was not able to do so because of his studies. But first, my aunt will give the flowers to a common friend of my parents. Then the common friend will give the flowers to my mother.

The funny thing was that the whole town thought that my aunt was courting this common friend and the common friend was courting my mother.

And so, before things get complicated, he summoned all his courage to talk to her. Then he did talk to her. It took him sometime before she said yes, that was December 26, 1990. My parents have proven to themselves the saying that “when you love somebody, set them free, if they return, (hindi ko na alam ang katuloy)..

But that was not the happy ending just yet, but just the beginning of longer struggles. They married early and this had been their resentment to this day. Have they waited for awhile, their life would have been easier than today.

But then, true love, understanding and respect have been their tools in resolving and overcoming their struggles in life. Communication has been helpful for them to continuously win small battles in life, one step at a time to win the challenges in life.

Today, they shared us their story for us to learn from mistakes that they may have made. For us not to repeat the mistakes they were into. They serve as our guide, to clear our path so that ours may not as bumpy as they had.

The end

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When Was The Last Time

When was the last time I’ve seen their faces? When was the last time I’ve heard their voices. When was the last time I dined with them? When was the last time I’ve embraced, kissed and told her how much I love them?

There are so much things going on in my mind, so much questions that need answers. Simple questions that you thought you have the ready answers but wait until you put the emotions into the equation. You would then realize how complicated the simple questions as what you have thought.

You relied with the advancement of technology in the areas of communications, mobile, internet, and others, as a relief to fill the void inside of you. Anxiously waiting for the day that you thought you can devote for them to reconnect. The day comes only to find out they don’t even blink in your radar screen and you start asking and telling yourself, “Did they ever missed me?”, “Did they ever realize that I am away?”, "Did they ever thought about me when they are in laughters?" or worst “Being away from them doesn’t make any difference anymore”.

So frustrated, depressed and disheartened. But still they don’t understand your frustrations. What they see only is your frustrations, but not the cause of your frustrations.

I don’t want to entertain the thought that they have grown and used to with my absence. This has been the case as I have spent four-fifths of my family life away from them. You may call it a denial… But that’s the only way I know, for at least in my thoughts someone’s waiting for me, someone is missing and longing for my presence.

Then I can tell myself, I will see their faces again, I will hear their voices again, I will dine with them again, I will embrace, kiss and tell how much I love them again….face to face.

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The Valedictory Address

As I was trying to find some files that I need from my external drive, I stumbled upon my daughter’s valedictory address. I ignored it and continue to look for the files I need. Besides, I have fallen out with my daughter as a result of her wrong priorities. But strangely enough, it seems that someone is whispering behind my ears to open my daughter’s valedictory address.

I might have opened it unconsciously and began reading.

As I was progressing to read her valedictory address, my thoughts are all coming back to me when she told me the good news of topping her class, just like a flashbacks from the movie. I remember how happy and proud we were. My wife and I started to build dreams of her growing up pursuing her own dreams and attaining all the success in her life.

Halfway through her valedictory address, my flashbacks of great dreams for my daughter seem to become vague, hazy and sketchy. As I continue, I began to realize that her valedictory address is becoming more and more an irony from reality.

What went wrong? I asked myself over and over and over….

Jae’s Valedictory Address.

Our beloved principal, Our Guest of Honor, dear guests, Parents, Teachers, Friends, and fellow Graduates, good evening.

Before I begin, I would like to thank the many, many people who have invested their time and energy into me over the years of my life. Without their assistance and nurturing spirits, I doubt that I’d be behind this podium delivering this speech today.

Tonight we have gathered to honor the labor and love of these teachers, and the dedication of our supporters; to recollect on the year with smiles and laughter, and finally, to say goodbye at this conclusion of a school year.

It is a privilege for me to speak on behalf of the class of 2006. I consider myself very fortunate to be part of such an exceptional group of people, a group that came together in June 2000, nervous and excited about entering those 'big doors' representing new challenges, and providing us with lasting friendships and memories.

It has been several weeks since I first learned that I would have the honor of speaking here tonight. After the initial euphoric rush of joy and gratitude, only one emotion remained: Panic. This is not the fear of speaking in front of a crowd. No, the root of this panic is far more sinister; I began to realize that NOW is the time for one last look around our beautiful campus before we march out from her ever-welcoming Gate.

As we step out from the gate of our alma matter, a new chapter unfolds before us, just like a book. The only difference is, our very lives are the epic tales inscribed in every page of the “book of life” we are about to author.

Tonight we will turn the final page of the introduction to the stories of our lives, but the tales are far from finished. The characters and individuals that we’ve written into being, will continue to live and will fill the remainder of our pages in the collective book of life with the intricacies and complexities of a ripened reality.

Strong individuals will lead the fights, win the wars, make the money, cure the diseases, and write the stories while the weaker ones will blindly follow. Fill our pages with wonderful deeds and accomplishments, so that others may follow us. Even the most seemingly insignificant act, if it improves the life of another human being, is worth performing for it can only affect our future for the better.

There is no way to tell what the future holds in store for us. We cannot examine the pages of the days to come, but we can read the pages of the days that are here. Some chapters are fascinating, dramatic, or even mildly amusing; some are heartbreaking, sad, and disappointing to read. Some chapters are long winded, while others are extremely short. When a writer fails to finish his or her story, there is always a new one waiting to fill the void.

The book of life continues to expand, with ink flowing ever onward, filling page after page with the stories of all who ever lived and touch our lives. It contains no appendices, so there is no place for special mentions, corrections, additions, or clarifications. We have only one chance to set pen to paper, and make our contributions to the book that we all share.

The future is but ink in the pen; it is our duty, the writer, to decide how the strokes will fall upon the pages of our story, and what structure the final tale will take.

Now that our time together is winding down, it seems too simple, too trite to say "I will miss you." When we were all flooded with endless successions of papers during our finals, I knew April 5th would be a day of joy, a culmination long anticipated. Yes, I knew this day would be a day of great relief and satisfaction. But as many times as the words "April 6th" have crept into my mind, I have rejected them, hoping to find some happier thought to hold back the tears from the corners of my eyes. Yes, I will miss you, because I have grown to know the friendship that we share. Tomorrow, April 6th, we will hurt. Next week, we will still hurt. But over the coming months, that ache of absence will transform into the peaceful, deep certitude. We never knew whether we would see our classmates again, but we could pray that by God's will, the way would be opened for us to come together.

To all of us who now leave at the conclusion of this year, the most wonderful year in my whole life, to my friends...thank you.

I would like to thank particularly those people who have made our memories here most worthwhile: all the parents and relatives who have put forth support and sacrifices for our six years' endeavors, the teachers who inspire us and forced us to go on when we’re about to quit and who have invested much time and effort to guide and shape us into the person we are today, and will become, our class advisers who are untiringly guiding us in our journey and the school administration for its constant leadership. And finally, I would personally like to thank my class, for despite many difficulties we might have encountered, individually or collectively, you all managed to make me feel like I was part of something great.

Thank you and farewell.

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Lunch-over

After one year and eight months on the job, it’s my first time to have lunch-over with some of my colleagues, IV, JM, RC and DD.

While trying to coordinate some issues at work with IV, I did not notice that it is already past noon. It was IV who invited me to join them for lunch at her office. She’s bragging and wanted to share her cooking, green bean sauté with bitter gourd and seasoned with fish sauce. Being an expat, you miss home cooked local cuisine such as “ginisang monggo at ampalaya” matching with a crunchy sweet “dilis” (dried anchovies) that IV packed for lunch.

I hurried back to my office and took my lunch to have it over at IV’s office. We were joined by JM, DD and RC. IV and DD bring their own lunch while the rest of us are catered by our company cook.

Funny enough, our cook is not a cook. Guess what … he is an electrician. So you would not be surprised how many complains about the menu, remember my post chicken all the way, not to mention the cooking. I am not complaining but just wondering if he is really cooking or electrocuting.

DD’s packed lunch is cheesy hotdog and fried dried squid, more like a breakfast huh!

Over lunch, cliché as might have been, we’re discussing about our local home recipes that we miss back home. Some variation of the “ginisang monggo”, Tagalong version, Kapampangan version and Ilocano version. I learned something today, the 2 variations of the Kapampangan version. First is the variation of the celery instead of the usual bitter gourd. Second is the variation where you blend the “monggo” to almost a puree. Must be yummy and I can’t wait to try it at home.

The discussion has shifted to dried fish, a famous product from the Ilocandia and the Visayan region. You’ll never get enough of dried fish once you’ve tried, you would definitely asking for more. Specially the dried young belt fish, thinly butterfly-sliced. But those who are not from these regions doesn’t know the process of fish drying, the old fashion way, which is still wide practiced.

Ohh-ohh!! DD just learned it today and she’s offering now her one kilogram dried squid she asked our colleague to buy for her, and yes for free. Any takers??

Anyway, I enjoyed having lunch-over with my colleagues for the first time.

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Chicken All The Way

Last week we were treated by our caterer with what I call chicken-torture. And to justify my allegation of a chicken-torture, just imagine from Saturday to Thursday there are six lunches and out of six, we were treated with 4 chicken meals. When I opened my lunch box yesterday (Thursday), it’s chicken again. “Man, its chicken all the way”. I was so mad that I stared hard, so hard that the chicken got up and make a chicken-run for its life….Naaah!!!

This chicken cannot amuse me even if it did a chicken dance by the tune of “chicken all the way”. What choice I have but to take my chicken lunch. Though, I was smiling while having my lunch, not because I like my chicken but because I remember a joke about chicken. It was told by a Singaporean friend. As you should know Singapore is a chicken-rice crazy country.

Here is the joke.

A childhood friends, a boy and a girl, likes to eat chicken rice. In any given occasion, it is certain that they have chicken rice for breakfast, lunch or dinner.

If they go to school, their parents prepare them pack snacks, and guess what, its chicken. Chicken burger, chicken nuggets, chicken rolls, etc.

This has been their way from pre-school to grade school and until they finished their primary schooling. Nothing much had changed up to their secondary schooling. They still eat their chicken snacks together. Buy chicken rice for lunch. They also visit McDonalds or KFC during weekends.

One day, the girl suddenly stops eating chicken. And the boy was very surprised, and does not understand why. He approached his friend and asked why she doesn’t eat chicken anymore. It’s been their favorite since childhood, why she suddenly dislikes chicken.

The girl said, “All these years we’ve been eating chicken and something wrong is happening to me”. Still the boy cannot understand what his friend is trying to tell him.

The girl said, “Come, I’ll show you something”. They went to a secluded place and the girl showed her friend what she was worried about. “You see this, because of so much eating chicken, I am growing feathers”, showing her private part to her friend. The boy said, “It can’t be the chicken”. Then they start arguing and parted their ways without resolving their argument.

A few weeks past, the boy called the girl. He said she was right and he also stops eating chicken. The girl asked what happen. The boys said that he wants to show her something.

And so they met and the boy showed what he wanted to show to his friend. The girl was very surprised, she said, “Whooaa!!! Your case is worst than mine, you don’t only have feathers, you also have gizzard!”

Recalling the above joke over and over, I didn’t notice I already finished my chicken lunch. I hope it won’t grow me some feather or gizzard for that matter.

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Alone in the corner

When alone in the corner, sometimes I was wondering why my other colleagues, be it present or past colleagues, can easily start a conversation among themselves. Some of them I also admire because they are approachable by others even if they are just recently been acquainted.

Sometimes I am being left out while they are horsing around, exchanging jokes, relating memorable and happy times, sharing foods or inviting each other to each others place while I sit alone in the corner. Sometimes I feel that I am being avoided.

I was asking myself, “why are not they talking to me?” And if ever they talk to me, sometimes I feel that they are in a hurry to disengage.

Am I rude? Am I self-centered? Am I domineering? Or maybe too old fashioned? Or maybe I don’t belong in their generation…. Duhh!! Or maybe I don’t share with their interests and vice versa. Am I introvert?

But my friends, those who know me very well, can attest that the foregoing are not my traits. On the contrary, I’m friendly, helpful, approachable and a jolly person. Now what is wrong with me then?

Few days back I asked my wife, why? And in candidness, she honestly said that there is nothing wrong with me. But before I can start tap-dancing, she blurted the spoiler words…EXCEPT THAT…

Except that I look too serious, with sharp and penetrating eyes. Except that I have so little words but forceful voice. She said that sometimes I sound like quarrelling with someone when in fact, I’m just talking normally.

My wife’s observation is further supported by our Pakistani driver. This evening while he was driving me home he asked me, “Mr. Jhun why you always angry?” “What do you mean I’m always angry?”, I asked.

“Mr. Jhun why you do not smile?”. “You are a very good person but you always look angry”, he continues with a smile. I just said I’m having a headache just to stop his questioning. Not believing what I just said he said “Why everyday headache?” I thought this could be a long discussion. I wish to reach home now.

I said, “If you always smile and smiling alone by yourself without any reason, then you will look like crazy.” “You want to look crazy or angry”, I said. He glanced at me while driving then his smile slowly disappears. I guessed he choose to look angry. I reached home without anymore word from him.

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Pacquiao – Hatton Fight Too Short

For weeks I have been anticipating Pacquiao - Hatton fight looking forward for a good and equally matched pugilist. The long wait was over only to find out that its over. That’s how quick the fight was.

I did not watch a live telecast of the fight but just tried to follow through the running account of the Pacquiao – Hatton fight from inquirer sports (online). I woke up just in time Michael Buffer is belting his famous line, “Let’s get ready to rumbleeee!!!”.

When the running account registers that the first round is about to begin, I went for a quick shower just in time when the fight will start getting intense, as I thought. But to my surprise, when I came out from the shower, it is already over.

That’s how fast and furious Manny’s fist demolishing Hatton. So fitting was Hatton ring name “Hitman” as Manny hit him with his lethal punches landing 73 out of 127. Most fitting ring name for Hatton would be Sleepman as he literally sleep in the center of the ring.

My first thought was Mayweather Sr’s big mouth eating his own words.

Secondly, I wonder what will happen to the Brits who sold their houses and emptied their banks to bet on Hatton, as Hatton urged them to do so guaranteeing his victory.

Manny Pacquiao has done it again making the Filipino race proud and etching his name in the annals of boxing greats.

One thing that I wish though, that Manny Pacquiao will not dip its hands in the dirty pots of politics. If his real intention is to help the people, he can do so in many ways but politics.

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Swine Flu

I just received this informative booklet about swine flu in my email from our IT administrator. I thought of posting it here as my little way of stopping the spread of swine flu.

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Forty Degrees and Rising

Summer is here. Forty degrees and rising.

The sweltering heat of the sun is becoming unbearable. Heatstrokes, again, will be a common occurrence at the site. Bulletins, tool box meetings and safety messages will be the forums to convey and make everyone aware of the precautions on heatstrokes. I am not worried though, as our ever-judicious ESH department will be on top of the issue and will again lead the campaign on heatstrokes awareness.

The tap water is getting hotter. Two weeks from now I would need to stock water in a pail at night for my morning “shower” otherwise I cannot stand the water straight from the shower.

I will be shifting back my grocery schedule at night. It is somewhat cooler at night. I hope it won’t be that crowded at night as everyone would be going to the hypemart for the same reason. And I bet, the road traffic jam would be a nightmare.

Extra water intake would be nice to last the day. Oppss!! Turning the aircon full blast will cool down your head not only your temper.

As the mercury is rising, nothing much you can do but to prepare for the long haul. Sunglasses, sunblocks and “sandos” (undershirts) will be your buddies for the coming months.

Forty degrees and rising.

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Should I Stay or Should I Go

Everyone’s idea was to take your annual leave now and be back just in time the project critical stage has kicked in and no turning back up to the handing over of the project. Should I stay or should I go.

Logical it may seem, and our Project Manager is in chorus with the rest of the staff. And so, more than fifty percent of the project staff has filed their vacation leave, one or two weeks between each other so as not to totally affect the day to day operation of the project. Should I stay or should I go.

Three weeks into the vacation frenzy, as others are anxiously waiting for their turn to leave for vacation and the others are sorting out their itineraries for a country hopping grand vacations, the Project Director just turned off the party’s music, changed the music and raises the tempo. Break your back before you take a break.

He just issued a memo informing everyone that there will be no more vacations until the project is completed.

Lucky are those who had and had just left, they are now enjoying their well deserved vacations. For those who were caught up by the emperor’s order, it looks like it hit them with an ice cold tsunami with their sand castles washed on the shore.

The country hopping plans has to be put on hold and make the most for a desk-hopping, pencil-pushing and paper-sorting frenzy in the meantime.

Some has managed to salvage and bargain for a shorter break by making their own personal alibis that only them can tell if it is a legitimate excuse or not.

As for me at the time of the new memo, I just started to decide for at least two weeks break. In any case, I was not that worried about the new memo as I have a “godfather” to sort out things for me.

I filed my leave when my immediate superior was in town for his bi-monthly visits and explained to him the current moratorium on vacations. I also explained to him the urgency of my leave as I am trying to catch up with my kids during their school holidays, which ends by the first week of June. My leave request was signed. As an assurance my boss told me, “just let me know whoever rejects your leave request”. One down, two more to go.

The Project Manager rejected my leave request and refers me to the Project Director’s memo. I did not contest, as I was not still sure if I should stay or should I go. The financial aspect is what’s holding me back, as I am still repaying my loan from the company, proceeding with my plans may complicate matters for the worst.

Two days after I failed the second hurdle, I decided to go for the approval of my leave request, I will decide later if I should stay or should I go.

Serendipity works on my side, the same day when I decided for the kill, the Project Director visits our site and at the same time I received a bank notice informing us a payment has just been credited to our account which amounts to more than QAR 6,000,000. The opportunity had just presents itself.

I took one transparent envelop, put in the bank notice on the facing page, the second page is my leave form. I knocked at the Project Director’s office and in I go. I handed over to him the envelop I was just holding and told him we just received two notices. He examined the paper, and then his face starts to glow like a boy drooling at the sight of a freshly opened ice cream. He smiles from ear to ear.

Turning to the next page expecting the second “notice” to be much better, still his face glued with his wicked smile, he tried to comprehend why the “notice” looks different. I told him, “that’s my leave application, seven (7) days would be enough”. Too late for him, he cannot shrug off the smile on his face no matter how he tried he said, “Ok I’ll give you ten (10) days”.

Trying to recover from his weakness, he said, “But subject to the finalization of the variations at Diwan Emiri project”. I said, “It’s a deal and consider it done”.
Mission accomplished in regard to my leave approval. But I am still in a dilemma, should I stay or should I go.

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Just Another Day In Lulu

I make my groceries once every week. I normally buy necessities like water, vegetables, fish and meat. Sometimes I also need to buy some personal stuff and small treats like one or two corn chips.

Last Friday I went to Lulu Hypermart to buy my groceries. I made my usual round shopping for my week’s provision.

My first stop is the fish section. There were quite a lot of customers by the fish counter. Everyone is trying to get the assistant’s attention, pare, my friend, bai, every friendly word you might think of. I was standing there for about 10 minutes but no luck. When I noticed on my left side, a churchmate of mine was also trying to get some service. Then another churchmate came by. One of mine churchmate came with an idea to have a quick service and 100% sure that the assistant will get you noticed. He said, “My friend, give me a kilo of this fish without cleaning”. As quick as the flash my churchmate got his fish. Me and the other churchmate employ the same strategy and we end up buying the same fish.

My second stop is the vegetable section. The downside of the vegetable section is the weighing scale. It is always a very busy section. You would be thankful if you manage to queue before an Indian expats. Indian’s likes vegetables, more often than not, their shopping cart is half full of vegetables.

My third stop is the bakery section for a bread, cakes or cookies.

My fourth stop is the various goods aisles to take some water, softdrink, canned food, condiments, small treats, etc.

My last stop is the meat and poultry section. You got it right, for a chicken, a mutton or beef.

And then to the cashier.

As the cashier was scanning my groceries, I grab my wallet from my back pocket to ready my payment. Surprisingly, my card was not in my wallet. I later found out that it was in my shirt’s pocket as I was hanging my laundry to dry. I ended up paying cash. As the cashier hand over my change, he gave a bar of candy.

“What is this?”, I asked.

“Your change” he replied.

“Yes I know it is my change, what is this candy bar for?”, I inquire.

“Your change, I don’t have 50 dirhams”, he arrogantly replied.

I responded, “I want my 50 dirhams, you want me to pay you with candies?”, he keeps quiet and gave me my 50 dirhams.

I don’t buy into this supermarket tactics. If I want candies, I will buy candies. They don’t have the right to force me to pay for a candy. If they give candies or gums as change, then they should accept their customer to pay with candies or gums. I just can’t imagine how a candy register looks like.

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