Away From Home

When Was The Last Time

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Sat, 23 May 2009 10:56:00 +0000

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.

The Valedictory Address

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Wed, 20 May 2009 17:43:00 +0000

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.

Lunch-over

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Sun, 17 May 2009 19:51:00 +0000

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.

Chicken All The Way

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Fri, 15 May 2009 13:04:00 +0000

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.

Away From Home: Alone in the corner

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Wed, 13 May 2009 21:00:00 +0000

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 though 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 with 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 says 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.

Pacquiao – Hatton Fight Too Short

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Sun, 03 May 2009 21:01:00 +0000

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.

Swine Flu

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Sat, 02 May 2009 09:20:00 +0000

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.

Forty Degrees and Rising

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 13:24:00 +0000

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.

Away Form Home: Should I Stay or Should I Go

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 21:27:00 +0000

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.

Just Another Day In Lulu

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Sat, 18 Apr 2009 22:08:00 +0000

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.

The Prodigals

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 21:39:00 +0000

It’s been five month since I was with my wife and a year since I was with my children. Our children are now with my wife in Singapore spending their summer vacation and will be back to school again in June.

I’ve been through rough times and have fallen out from my wife and my kids, with each of their own issues. And during my solitude in the quietness of my room, I took a step back and have a different perspective of the situation. In any case, the fact remains that I miss my family, their presence, their showing of affections, their voices first hand and their laughters.

My issues with my wife are more of a “family matters”. As much as we don’t want to say or act anything that is hurtful, we end up doing so. Though we know that such were just said at the heat of the moment, we patch up thing in a day or two. Our misunderstandings were due to stress in managing our “family matters”.

Our children issues are more disappointing and uninspiring.

Our son has failed 5 out of his 7 subjects in his studies in the university. What more can I say. And still he has the nerve to say “It’s good that I did not fail 7 subjects”. So, we should be thankful that he passed 2 out of 7 subjects? If he is just trying to be smart I don’t buy it. I was furiously mad at him when he said that to me. The good thing was that we were on “chatting” when he said that, otherwise I would have been shouting on top of my lungs.

After I have calmed down about my son's issues, I thought may be he was not trying to be smart afterall but he was looking at his situation in a positive way. Just like when you are looking at a half-filled glass of water. It’s either you look at it as half-filled or half-empty.

Our son not only failed his subject but most unfortunately, he failed us. Me and my wife who have taken all the sacrifices, enduring the heavy hearts being away from them, missing their childhood and not being around to watch them grow up, just to give them a brighter future. All these sacrifices had gone to the drain.

Our son has failed to be the role model of his generation. Our son is the eldest grandchild from both sides, paternally and maternally. He should have taken this fact as a big responsibility. Maybe he can still be the role model, but I hate to say, for the wrong reason.

Our eldest daughter has the brain, but she cheats, she lies but not steal. She has the brain but she is not using it. She chooses the wrong company, she copies the wrong image among youths, and she has all the wrong priorities.

She lies. How many times she was caught lying? I lost count. She’ll say that she is with her friend A doing their project so and so. But if you call her friend, she is not there.

She cheats. She never keeps her promise. Even just as an act of respect to us. She disregarded the promises she made.

But if anyone asks me, my son’s and daughter’s predicament had something to do with their forsaking of their church duties. They were choir members, since they’ve gone cold with their primary duty to attend worship services, their membership with the choir was compromised. Since then, they run into troubles. They are both intelligent, but they can’t perform in their studies.

If only they know their priorities, they would not be in these undesirable circumstances.

The Breeze Before Summer

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 22:02:00 +0000

Last week and a week before, the weather was quite nice, rainy, windy and breezy. The breeze before summer, the blossoming of the dates trees aligning the center islands of the main thoroughfares throughout Doha, frequent dust storm and high winds, signals the start of the hot season.

Scorching heat, sweltering sun and full blast aircons are in the offing. It is time to put back those jackets, blazers, sweaters and cardigans into the closet for a job well done. But of course, they will be called back on duty after six months or so.

The week before last week was the wettest week I ever experienced here in Doha. It rained in the afternoon, into the night and the following mornings. For a few days it continues to rain. If it ever stopped, a very slight drizzle was there just to remind us that the rain is still around.

I like most, the day the raining stopped. The very fresh breeze after the rain, the air is so fresh and so clean. It reminds me of my childhood and taking me back in time.

Thirty years ago…

During rainy season when were small boys, my cousins and friends always play in the rain. We love the monsoon rain, running around the house, to our school, to the town plaza, by the river, to our friends’ and classmates’ houses. Frolicking in the rain is very fun. We change turns standing below the roof gutters to have a load of rain water. We race paper boats on the swelling surface drains. We make fun of our school bell by making a challenge amongst ourselves who can ring it the loudest. Be it monsoon rain, storm or typhoon we were there to play, never mind if our parents scold us after our little adventures in the rain. We have of course one simple rule, “don’t play in the rain if there is thunderstorm”.

Rain during thunderstorm doesn’t spoil the fun. Though we cannot go out and play, our grandmother cooks a cassava / tapioca in coconut milk for everyone. It was our favorite snack during rainy season. After the rain is a lot more fun, we go out and gather beetles by shaking them off from every standing tree in town. Once we gathered enough beetles, we cook them by frying and eat them over chats and laughter.

Fast-forward Thirty years….

I missed the monsoon rain, the storms and the typhoons. Since I left my homeland in 1995, I have never experience a really heavy rain. Though I go back for vacations, it was always summer and so I was never “re-united” with my childhood’s fun.

Last-last week’s weather, though it was rainy, it never comes close to what I real miss. The high and strong cool wind, which almost resembles an incoming typhoon, is what reminds me of my childhood.

Hmmmm…Haaaaa….. I better enjoy now the cool breeze before summer kicks in.

One Chicken - One Duck

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 21:46:00 +0000

Working in a multi-national environment which comprises a number of nationalities is quite a challenge. Specially so, if you are at “ground zero” where day to day you are face to face with the workers that are not conversant with the common language, English, or understands at all. As if, one chicken and one duck trying to understand each other.

Unfortunately, I have quite a number of misadventures with the one chicken and one duck syndrome in the workplace. One of which, just happened last Monday as I was at the other Project assisting in the tender exercise.

I reported at the tower project that day, as I was going through with my works I realized that I left something at my place. I thought of redoing it but it would certainly take me an hour or so to re-do my work. But if I go and take my work at my place it would only take me half an hour the most.

So I decided to call the transport foreman to arrange a driver for me, remember that I haven’t got my license to now. No thanks, to the traffic police examiner for always failing me in my driving test.

The transport foreman asked me to wait at the gate and he will send me a driver, of course with a car, in ten minute. Fifteen minutes past and the driver never came. As I about to call the transport foreman, I receive his call. “Where are you” said the man at the other line.

“I am here at the gate”, I replied.

“I cannot see you”, protests the man.

“I am standing here and I don’t see any driver”. Then I realized maybe he is looking for me at the other project at P99 and I am at P89.

“I am here at P89, EIGHTY-NINE”, I said very slowly.

“Sir, I thought you’re here at P99. I am sorry sir, I will send the driver now to you”, he said apologetically.

So, I waited another ten minutes.

When the driver arrived, he looks new to me. I asked him if he know my place. He just looks at me. This guy doesn’t speak English. A scenario of a chicken and a duck inside a car. Obviously, he doesn’t know where I live. So I asked him if he knows how to go to Najma, because my place in near there. He simply replied “Yes”. He speaks English at least.

As we are traveling on the road, I noticed the road directions going to D-ring road, which is actually my place. I told the driver to go to that road. He said, “No”. Pointing the direction I told him he said “No Najma”, and pointing the direction of the car, “Yes Najma”.

I don’t want to start a chicken and a duck argument, so I just sit still and thought the driver must know then where he is going. When we reached Najma near my place, I assisted him with the direction and we reached my place after fifteen minutes.

I took my things I need then jump back into the car and ask the driver to go back to P89. He quietly obliged and off the chicken and the duck.

At the first round-about, instead of going straight, the driver U-turn. “Where are we going?” I asked the driver. “P89”, he said but looking puzzled. “Sir, you, good road, good driving” I thought he is trying to say we are taking a short cut.

After traveling for about five minutes, I noticed the road signs and directions that we are traveling towards the opposite direction. So, I reminded the driver, we are going back to P89. He responded “Yes”. I said to myself, ok, maybe he knew a short cut.

Then I saw Villagio, the mall I planned to go and visit but I never had the time. Villagio is far south of City Center where our site is located. Then it occurred to me the driver is lost. I started getting furious, scolding the driver. I was telling him to go back, but it seems that he doesn’t understand. He continues to drive south.

Then we were already at the Industrial round-about and then it is the end of the road, literally end of the road. The asphalt road has ended. But still he continues to drive south. If not for the blockage at the end of the road, this guy would not U-turn, we might have reached Saudi Arabia.

I called the transport foreman to tell his driver is lost and asked him to tell the driver to follow my direction. I was fuming but what can I do, even if I scold him left, right and center, he doesn’t understand me.

After one and a half hour we reached our site, at least, safely. I wanted to save 30 minutes of my work but end up losing more than two hours.

Moral lesson of the story,

A chicken and a duck do not understand each other.
Next time bring a turkey to make it more fun.

118 Days To Go

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 21:29:00 +0000

Three weeks had swiftly passed since I last posted in my blog. Nothing much has been happening except the usual chores of making it to the completion date of our project.

Since the day we started counting down the days to completion, everyday seems to be more and more tensed than the previous days. So tensed that everyone seems to be easily irritated that sometime escalates to shouting. Everyday you will find more arguments than agreements, more deficiencies than accuracies and miscalculations than perfections.

All the staffs are so work up that sometimes works against our common goal, to finish on time.

I had my fair share of bickering and shouting against my colleagues. Since the 139th day, I had raised my voice twice to TH, once to LM, twice to MI, once to BG and once to KLK. Not that I am hot tempered, I raised my voice in retaliation to a raised voice. Sometimes it is just misunderstandings, or just the heat of the moment due to work pressures. Some are also personal, when someone gets personal of course.

Fortunately though, most of these incidences are legitimately “work related”. I mean you argue to resolve an issue, no personal grudge attached. And tomorrow you will be discussing another issue. Of course with a fresh smile on your face and a fully charged larynx for another shouting spree.

By the way, my teams share in achieving a step closer to completion is that our target to deliver our IFC BOQ’s by end of March was achieved and take note, we did not slip this time. Thanks to the team and to IV who, as always, is readily available to resolve issues pending our deliverables.

I have not set new targets for my team for this current month. I am now very disorganized due to my involvement with the tendering team. I definitely need to set up our new targets before the week ends.

As the day gets closer and closer, the more had been convinced that we are not able to make it. Contrary to what we intends to make everyone believes, we are yet to see a beacon of light to inspire everyone to work hard for our common goal.

As for me, I still believe that we are able to make it. It is just a matter of turning one big boulder off the snow covered mountain and it will snowball just before it will reach the foot of the mountain. It doesn’t matter if it is 118 days or 18 days to go.

Away From Home: The Package

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Sat, 14 Mar 2009 22:43:00 +0000

I just came back from my church duty. Once every month we are assigned to provide security within our place of worship. We normally carry out such activity in groups and I am with the choirs which were assigned to be “on-duty”.

We are about ten who turn up this time, the usual company I am with. They are the same group who sometimes come by my place for a lunch, diner or sleep over. As we guard the premises, we share stories, jokes and experiences to let the time passes by.

One story that caught my attention is from RN.

By the way, coincidentally RN’s former Employer was the very same Employer I am suppose to join here in Qatar. I will make a separate post how I eventually end up here in Qatar.

Renan and his colleagues, our fellow choir members, were originally hired by this company X. Just about a year in their contract, their employer folded up and left Qatar. His group was taken over by company Y and were seconded to their subcontractor company Z. That time they were just grateful that someone had taken them over and were not sent home prematurely. They were even happy that their visas were renewed for 5 years.

But their rejoicing was short-lived as just few months under their new sponsor, salaries were delayed for a week, then for a month, then for 2 months and then 3 months. Their overtime was shortened, then overtimes were not paid.

Until suddenly their sponsor just left and went back to his home country. RN and his colleagues were at a lost, no jobs and no salaries. Company Y disowned them saying they belong to Company Z although they were just seconded to Company Z their papers shows that Company Y is their employer.

They struggled during this time. They took on odd jobs during this time, for a couple of months, just to make ends meet.

Company Y must have realized their shortcomings and took them back and assigned them to their various projects. Though their salaries still gets delayed, they are still thankful they have work and besides they have no other choice in this faraway land.

All the while during their ordeals they are always cheerful as if they don’t have any problems. I still see them regularly in our church and holds on to their duties as choirs. On my part, there is no help I can extend to them but to invite them over my place for a lunch during Fridays and sometimes a diner after our Thursday worship service.

What makes it more depressing to them is their families back home. RN narrates that his siblings always ask him to send them some moneys. He confides that his brother asking him for an ipod, not just an ipod by the way, he wants an ipod shuffle specifically. RN tries to explain that though he works abroad, his salary is just like back home, but they never listens or maybe they don’t believe.

RN has this idea. He will send a package to his family. A very different package.

RN has been collecting these excess cables when laying cables at his work. He patiently brings it home and skin off the coating if he cannot sleep at night and save the copper wires from the excess cables. So far he had already collected about 40kg of these copper wires. Back home copper sells for Php 350/kg.

He plans to send this as a package to his family and wanted to tell them this is all he can save and send for them. Hoping that this time they would understand how difficult life is even here in abroad.

RN hopes his package would send the message that he had always been trying to convey to them.

139 Days To Go

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 22:20:00 +0000

I’ve been too busy lately that I have not keep you posted for about 2 weeks.

Busy and too much pressure at work that everyone in the office is up to their toes and running about to keep up with the challenge at hand.

The challenge??? Yeah, from 3 March, my immediate boss has posted a poster and displaced conspicuously all over the site office. Every office, the hallways, entrances, pantry you name it and it must be there. And everyone is a buzzing about the poster and has different takes on it.

The poster reads, “150 DAYS TO GO, EITHER YOU SUCCEED OR YOU FAIL”.

The poster is updated everyday are serves to remind us that the clock is ticking.

Some are challenged, some are pessimistic, some are worried, some are enraged and some just doesn’t care.

I count myself as one of the challenged individual. My boss idea is to make everyone believes that we are able to finish our Project on time, which is on 31 July 2009. Though it is practically impossible, I must support my boss. In the first place, only our department, my boss actually, believes that we are able to finish on time and we need to convince and influence everyone so as to put that extra mile for the Project benefit.

The Planning Department is pessimistic about the target. Based on their updated forecast we are 61 days behind schedule. Though they are pessimistic they have develop a recovery plan to put us back on track to attaining that goal, to finish on 31 July 2009.

Our Project Manager is somewhere between the challenged and pessimistic group. The same thing with the other department heads, i.e, Construction, Quality Control, Quality Assurance, Environmental Safety & Health and Engineering.

I live in a Villa with 2 of the managers, Quality Control and Environmental Safety & Health. Once, Sir Manny asked me if we have any extension. I told him we don’t need extension and we will be able to pull it through and finish on time, bearing in mind my support to my immediate boss.

Some of my colleagues are worried by it. For them the thought of finishing the Project means where to go next. Currently, we don’t have new Projects on hand. Our other Project is finishing on 23 April 2009 and we will be finishing on 31 July 2009. If no new Project comes, how the company keep all its current staffs. Are they sending everyone home? This is what makes them worry. I say it is a legitimate worry, because as the current situation right now, a bleak economy is in the horizon and life’s uncertainties are so much take, let alone loosing a job. I believe most of us are not ready to go home, we have a lot of catching up to realize those dreams.

Some are enraged. To them the poster just gives so much stress to their already stressed life. They just don’t understand the purpose of the poster. In any case, you will be facing the same problem, why not face it now.

Some just doesn’t care. They go with their usual way, taking it easy with no extra effort to contribute in attaining our goal to finish on time. For them as long as they receive their pay at the end of the month, they are already contented. These people I consider them shortsighted.

Tomorrow, when I report to office, I will be expecting the poster to read, “139 DAYS TO GO, EITHER YOU SUCEED OR YOU FAIIL”.

I will choose to succeed.

The Masquerade Is Over

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 21:47:00 +0000

February 24, Tuesday, 1:30pm. I’ve got to remember this date because this day, the masquerade is over.

I’ve given to the bank what they are after me, though it is not the full payment of my obligations, it is enough for them give me leniency by not pursuing the matter through legal avenues. Enough for me to take a step back and ask myself what I have done on my finances.

All the while I have been confident that I would be able to manage my finances smoothly. And that I would be able to pay my various financial obligations because I have the income.

Our culture has been a factor to my current predicament. OFW’s like me are almost always the “Bank” of our relatives left back home. The only difference is that you need to deposit in the bank to withdraw money, but in my case, the typical OFW, they only withdraw from you. In the bank you’ve got to pay your loans, but to a typical OFW, loans taken from him is not paid.

Our culture to help our relatives in need sometimes gets out of hand. To the point of providing them not only their needs but also their wants. The tendency to dig deep into your pockets when they cry for help is but normal. And when your pockets cannot withstand the constant dipping of your callus hands, you will turn to your credit cards, and then you start making loans just to give “loans”. Unconsciously, I am stepping into a quicksand of financial troubles.

Anyways, what’s done is done and I have no regrets whatever help I am able to extend to my relatives. The most important thing now is to pick-up the pieces and figure out how to get out from this quicksand. And the masquerade of “can afford” needs to be stopped and face the reality of “can’t afford” is the only way to handle this situation head-on.

My bank’s harassment has given me the wake-up call and made me realize how I messed up with my finances. I have decided to eliminate all my bad debts and leave all these financial stress behind me. I will not be again into such situation I was, begging the bank not to escalate my issues to legal means.

And to start building my road map to freedom from debt, I listed all our “debt instruments” and found out that we have 8 credit cards, 2 overdrafts, 3 personal loans with bank and 3 personal loans. That’s easy to calculate with all those single digits, but wait until I told you that all these are maxed-out. Then you will get overwhelmed with the figures.

Taking into account that all our credit cards are maxed-out, I realized that I am in debts of around Php 3,100,000.00… Humongous… Yes, I am a millionaire in debts. Ironically, this is what I earned during my 14 years of struggles abroad. The fruits of my sacrifices of being away from my loved ones. And technically, I have a negative networth. That means I owe everything I have, even the food I eat. Having said that, I blame no one but myself. This got to end.

Me and my wife have discussed my financial issues and have set our goal, which is the first step. As the famous adage says, “A journey starts with a small step”. Huge and difficult it may seem, I have no plans to run away from my debts. I will settle all these as long as it may take.

Another Block On The Wall

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 19:46:00 +0000

It all started with a purchase request (PR) for 100mm thick hollow blocks for the walls. One of our site engineers, AH, initiated the PR requesting to order 2000pcs of 100mm thick hollow blocks. Basically, all PR passes through our department for cost coding and when this particular PR was handed to me, I became suspicious that the site is over ordering materials. At the back of my head I know that we still have such excess material on site, as I often visit the site to assess our progress for our monthly billing.

I asked our quantity surveyor, MI, to verify one more time our quantities for that particular area and we have verified that we only need 2130 hollow blocks. JZ has earlier provided us an inventory of all our blocks on site which shows that we still have +2500 100mm hollow blocks. Reserving the requirements for our other locations, we are only short of 369 blocks, making us to revise the requested quantity from 2000 down to 400 blocks.

Seeing the corrections in the PR, our purchaser once again verified the quantities with the Site Engineer if this is what he requires. AH was not pleased with the correction, insisting that he requires 2000pcs not 400. And so he cancelled the PR and issues a new one requesting, again, 2000pcs. Our procedure dictates that it will again pass through us, and again we stand firm on our calculations that we only need 400pcs.

Our deputy construction manager, JZ, called me up and asked why I am revising the quantities. I told him it is part of our job, to control our costs, and over ordering materials is impacting our costs. JZ explains that he already spoken with AH and AH requires 2000pcs. So I asked JZ where they are going to use all these 2000 blocks. JZ mumbles and said that they just need it, that’s it, and they already have spoken to the Project Manager and has authorized to proceed with the PR of 2000 blocks.

That’s it?, I said, “just because he needs it?”. I was wondering how can an engineer just sucks his finger, point at his temple and looks up to the sky and says “Oh, I need 2000 blocks”. …. Amazing.

I told JZ, “No, I am not going to sign. If we need to discuss this with the Project Manager, call your guy and we’ll discuss with the PM.” And I revised again the PR to 400pcs and scribble a note that AH, JZ and me will discuss with the PM.

This morning, they called me in the PM’s office. As I went inside, JZ and AH is already there. The PM opens the discussion by asking how much does we really require. AH is quick to say 2000pcs. So I asked how much area we are talking about. Obviously AH has done his homework this time saying the exact area which the 2000pcs could have cover. But he forgot about his wastage… not clever enough.

So I said, “that means we only need 400 blocks to order given the materials we still have on site based on the inventory provided to us earlier”. AH was surprised but seems ready for an answer. He said the inventory was wrong, we do not have +2500 blocks on site. I said “JZ has given me this inventory and the same inventory was reported to the PM. Are you telling me now that your guys made a mistake in the inventory or you’re telling me that the deputy construction manager is not checking what he is reporting to the PM”.

AH was obviously put in a difficult position, so he chose to blame the site supervisor for making a wrong inventory and he confirms that they don’t have 2500 blocks on site.

The PM decided to proceed with the 2000 blocks to order. I rest my case as they have “justified” their requirements.

But I am not ready to submit, just like that. I trust MI calculations, but I doubt the site supervisor has made a mistake in counting a 2500 block, that is huge and you just can’t simply overlooked that. I ask MI to go to site and check all the 100mm hollow blocks, get the site supervisor to count with him. MI came back and reported that we still have 1800 blocks on site.

I went to the PM and told him what we found out and stress that we don’t need to order so much. The PM is mad for the continuous misinformation going on, so he called up the Construction Manager (BG) and the Deputy Construction Manager (JZ) to discuss again the issue once and for all.

To cut the chase short, I have justified that we only need 400 blocks and everyone have agreed, though, BG is not agreeing he is overruled by the PM. Eventually, it was decided to order 1000 blocks being the minimum order. Everyone agreed and had closed the issue.

But BG is not done yet, raising the issue why I need to cross out the PR and scribble a note on it. Raising the issue about my scribbling a note on the PR is irrelevant as the case has been resolved. But I choose to answer back BG, I told him that it is our job to check quantities, and his men are insisting to order wrongly.

“But why, why you scribble a big note on the PR”, said BG.

I told him, “BG I am doing my work. Have you done your work? Have you checked what you are signing for? BG you are signing blindly. Let me do my work and you do yours”.

Mad as a lion, he said to the PM, “JL I cannot work like this, you send me back to UK right now. If Jhun does not apologize to me, I am not working anymore. You send me back to UK.”

“BG I am not going to apologize to you”. Then I excuse myself out from the PM’s room.

The PM just sits on his chair, letting BG throws his tantrums.

Workload Unloaded

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Sat, 21 Feb 2009 19:20:00 +0000

As a follow-up on my earlier post, workloads overloads, I am happy to post that I am able to unload some of our workloads, with the help of my team of course. Our task of putting all the PR’s (Purchase Request) for our Project has been completed. Although we slipped 3 days from our target date, we managed to hit the ball out from our court.

The 3 day slippage was due to MI’s work attitude. He is still used to his former superior’s management which I am trying to change from him. He is used to not care about target dates. He lacks commitments to his deliverables. If you ask him when can he deliver a task, he will likely give you an “open date”. Like, “This is very easy, I can give you in one or two days”. But he doesn’t dare to give you a specific date. Let’s say the second day is on Monday, and you tell him “Ok then, give it to me on Monday”. As sure as the sun rises tomorrow, he’ll say “If I can finish it, I’ll give it to you”. And then, as certain as Tuesday follows Monday, he will give it to you on Tuesday the earliest. Then you will start wondering if MI understands the word “commitment”.

MI also lacks direction and initiatives. I need to always look over him and keep him occupied. He is like a paper shredder, it won’t work if you don’t feed a paper and it only shreds the papers you feed into it.

I hope that I can change MI’s work attitude. How’s to motivate him, to make him more proactive in our works and have sense of commitment to his works will be a challenge.

Anyways, my next priority on my workloads is to close out our Bill of Quantities that will be based on the Final Design Drawings. By closing this out, it will allow us to bill the Client on the respective pay item in our Contract. Our main goal for this exercise is to bill the Client for the respective pay item by March 2009. I have set to complete this exercise by 21 March 2009.

Good luck to me and my team.

Locked-in

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 21:15:00 +0000

On Thursdays, I usually cook for dinner quite early at about 4pm. Firstly because I need to go to our worship service at 6pm. Secondly, my housemates sometimes also needs to go to their church for some activities. That’s why we take an early dinner before we go our ways.

I volunteered myself to cook on Thursdays and Fridays because during the rest of the week, I come home late from work. By the time I reach home Mamang has already prepared dinner. So, Thursdays and Fridays is my kitchen duty.

Today I cook early, by 5:15pm I’ve taken my dinner. My housemates did not join me this time as they are not going out today. After my dinner I went upstairs to prepare myself to church. Arrange my hymn book, prepare my offerings, iron my clothes and took a quick shower.

It is 6:05 and I am a little late now. I am supposed to go out by 6pm because it would take me about 20 minutes to walk from home to our place of worship. Just in time to change and drop by at the finance department which will just open at 6:35pm. At 6:45pm we must all be in for some vocalizations.

6:08pm, I am still in my room. Why and what’s taking me longer this time, I don’t know why. I am set to go… rushing to the door…. Opps… my hymn book, I almost forgot. I am ready now.

I reach the door lever and turn it as I pull it towards me… It’s jammed…

6:10pm.. I am stuck and cannot go out from my room, I am locked-in. No, I must go out… I need to go to church, I cannot be locked-in.

I grab the door handle and turn the lever one more time… Nothing is happening. Another try, this time I pull the lever handle forcefully.... too bad, it gave way, the handle came off… I am stuck in my room and it’s already 6:12…By this time my housemates downstairs heard the commotions on my door. They came upstairs rushing to rescue me.

They also try to turn the door lever from outside… still the door did not budge. Mamang asking the two if they have a duplicate key… they don’t have. I said that it is not the key which is wrong but the door lever.

6:14pm now, I am really getting late and getting frustrated. Sir Fred is also trying to shake up the door lever, but it is very stubborn. Of all the days, why Thursday. I need to go to church today.

6:15pm. I am not giving up… I slot-in the door lever that came off back into the lockset. Turn and pull, turn and pull…. Come on….turn and pull…. It opened…. I’m free…. My housemates are laughing. The door lockset is a mess. I told Mamang that I’ll fix it when I come back after my worship service… I need to go now I am late. I left my housemates in front of my broken door…I said bye…

6:20pm now I am really running late. Thanks God, as I came out from our complex gate a taxi passes by, I flagged it down. There are passengers behind the taxi but the taxi stopped. I told him I am rushing and before I can say another word he said he’ll drop me first. So, I took the ride and manage to reach our church just in time.

When I arrive home by 11pm, my door is already fixed. My housemates may have called the maintenance to fix it. I hope it won’t give me another trouble tomorrow as I need to go out by 6am, to church.

Stereotyping The Filipinos

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 21:21:00 +0000

A stereotype, by definition from wikipedia, is a preconceived idea that attributes certain characteristics (in general) to all the members of class or set. The term is often used with a negative connotation when referring to an oversimplified, exaggerated, or demeaning assumption that a particular individual possesses the characteristics associated with the class due to his or her membership in it. Stereotypes can be used to deny individuals respect or legitimacy based on their membership in that group.

Have you ever been stereotyped?

I am quite sure that at least once or twice, a fellow Overseas Filipino Workers (OFW) like me have been stereotyped. An OFW have there own experience of this form of prejudice.

Working here in Doha, I had experienced being stereotyped… in my face, by a fellow OFW. That happened three weeks ago.

I reported to our other Project on that day, assisting them in formalizing our variation claims. I have been reporting in that Project for about two weeks then, but I am only spending my Saturdays to Mondays on this Project. The rest of the week is spent at my original Project.

It was about lunch and everyone had shifted to a lower gear. This Filipino colleague casually approached me and he asked if I am a Filipino. It is not that I don’t look like a Filipino, but maybe because he seldom sees me and if he ever sees me I don’t loiter around, but rather too preoccupied with my own work. Or he seldom hears me and if ever he hears me speak he has second thoughts. Most of my colleagues say that my accent is different with the rest of my Filipino colleagues.

I affirmed to him that I am a Filipino. And so we had a casual conversation, where are you from, when did you start with the company, …usual stuff.

He asked me if I was hired direct from Philippines. I told him that I was recruited from Singapore. Then he asked why I left Singapore, it is a very nice country and salarywise must also be better. I just smiled. And he continues, “Maybe you left Singapore because you have many wives over there and you are hiding from them that’s why you left Singapore”.

I was shocked from what he said. I was just stereotyped. Do I look like a sex-craved maniac? Maybe he is trying to relate me to his ways or some, if not most, of the OFW’s be it men or women. I pity him, he was barking at the wrong tree, such thing has no place in my moral orientation.

I just smiled at him, but this time my eyebrows are meeting each other. He may have sensed that what he just said was offensive. Quite a way to have your first conversation with someone you just met, huh…

My wife has also a fair share of stereotyping. During the late 90’s in Singapore, for locals if they see a Filipina, she must be a domestic helper. Many times my wife was mistaken for a domestic helper.

My wife once followed by an Indian expat. She took a bus after work that would take her more than half hour to reach home, it was already about 11:30pm. At the bus, my wife noticed this Indian staring at her. Then he came nearer trying to engage my wife to a conversation. Ignoring him throughout the trip, he is really persistent. Then he became loud, blurting inappropriate things about Filipinas. Sensing that this guy would not give in, my wife called me to meet her at the bus stop. To make sure that this Indian guy would find what he is looking for, my wife started to respond to him with a slight smile when she is just a bus stop away. She managed to lure the guy to alight from the bus when she alighted, just in time when I was approaching the bus stop. When my wife saw me, it was her turn to be “loud” to this Indian guy. I confronted the Indian guy and he kissed my knuckles tumbling him down on the bus stop floor. He scampered up and ran like a headless chicken.

I was once asked, with resentment, by a Singaporean taxi driver. “Why Filipinas likes Indians or Bangladeshi?”

“Why do you ask?” I replied.

“I have more money than those Indians or Bangladeshis but they have Filipina girlfriends and I don’t”, he said. I keep quiet, keeping to myself I said, “Maybe because you don’t share your money”.

The friendly nature of Filipinas sometimes is being misinterpreted as “easy-to-get” Filipinas. Sometimes I blame those Filipinas who are up-to-no-good. They have multiple boyfriends, some are even married back home but still entertain boyfriends when abroad. Some are also involved in the sex trade. Some are even both married but have consensual relationships when they are away from home.

These are some of the negative traits of OFW’s that causes the stereotyping of the Filipinos. The sad thing is that those who are innocent, living honestly, morally, faithfully are being unjustly dragged into this stereotyping.

Ops...They Did It Again

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Sun, 15 Feb 2009 19:40:00 +0000

Ops, they did it again…

Remember my post about this illustrious bank that I am attached with?? They did it again… the harassment.

Yesterday, I received a call from the bank again, this time the one at the other line claims that she is from the banks legal department. Oh, so clever, I think this bank has a lot of things under its sleeves to harass its customers.

I tried to reason out with the lady saying; “Thanks for reminding me, but I already spoken to your guy at the recovery department and he understand my situation and he has given me more time to settle my obligations, I already paid the amount I have promised with your guy”.

“No, it is not enough, you are not allowed to drag your obligations too long”, said the lady.

“That’s all I can afford to pay at this time and I am only relying from my monthly salary, I also need to send some for my family back home. I will pay up again when I receive my next month’s salary”, I responded.

“As I said, it is not enough and you must find a way to settle at least half of it otherwise we have no choice but to recover your dues through legal means”, the lady reiterates.

I have given up that I would be able to talk through with her and get her to understand my situation. It is like talking to a brickwall. Her mind is close and she is determined with her purpose, to harass their customer….Heartless…

Again, I don’t want to be in “trouble with the law”, not in this part of the world if you know what I mean. So, I just swallowed any pride left in me and beg her to give me sometime to raise the money to pay. I asked her to give me two weeks but she only agrees to wait for me until 25 February.

This time I realized how I messed up with my finances. And this situation had been causing so much stress and strain between me and my wife.

Anyways, the goon in a suit has again succeeded in harassing its customer. I have made up my mind that I will put my efforts to settle all my obligations with this bank, break loose from its shackles and never again be of any dealings with this bank for the rest of my life.

Away From Home: Sandstorm in Doha

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 19:41:00 +0000

This morning as I reached the Site for work, the weather seems to be pleasant. With a cool morning breeze, the steel stairs going up to the second level of our site office was drenched with morning dew. I took a long deep breath of fresh air before I enter one of the two entrances to the second floor of the site office.

As I walk through the hallway and passing by the pantry, the tea boy greeted me with a good morning. He is quick to serve me a hot coffee which is perfect just for the cool morning. I enjoy a cup of coffee every morning as I make a quick run through of the online news and into my email inbox. The air is still cool and the coffee aroma had just conditioned me for the long day ahead.

By half past ten in the morning, our office was starting to smell like dust. By eleven in the morning, the natural light coming in from the window and the glazing of the door entrance had turned rusty hue. The hallway had turned dimmer.

By this time, I am having a little bit of difficulty in breathing because of the stuffiness of the air and the smell of dust. I am beginning to choke and begin to cough heavy due to this unpleasant and irritating dusty air.

I stepped out to the hallway and was surprised that I cannot see our adjacent building which you can normally see in the clear day.

It then occurred to me that I am experiencing the worst sandstorm I’ve ever had since I came to Qatar one year and 4 months ago,

This, the sandstorm, has continued till now as I am posting about it into my blog.

I wish this sandstorm just goes away.

Workloads Overloads

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 20:09:00 +0000

I am overwhelmed with the workloads at hand. Not to mention that I am also getting involved with our other Projects.

Especially now, at the current stage of our Project, we only have five months to complete the Project. And a lot of things that had been overlooked previously have started coming out to the surface. Unfortunately, these kinds of issues are impacting us negatively in terms of our progress. Some of these issues are clashing with our catch up plans that revisiting our catch up plans is getting more often to take into considerations such issues.

Currently, my priority now is to clear all materials which still need to be procured. Surprised? At this stage of the Project we are still procuring. Yeah, I am also surprised. Apparently, the department that was supposed to be looking into these matters had been remiss. And their attitude only manifests how they’ve been handling our Project. Such attitude is evident in one of their response to the internal office correspondence addressed to them that I initiated where I was checking the status of subcontractors and suppliers needed for our Project.

All the while the site team was waiting for that department to confirm or conclude and award the subcontractors for our Project. When it was becoming critical to get these subcontractors on board and we are yet to receive confirmation from that department for a finalized subcontract agreement. That was when I checked the status of the Subcontractors , and all hell break loose. They have tons of reasons and it all goes down to, “Oh, sorry but we were waiting for your site team to give us information to conclude these subcontracts”. When in fact, the informations they needed had been provided to them.

Simply put “they are washing their hands” or “hitting the ball to the other court”. Classic…

And so I end up clearing these materials to be sub-out or purchased, and my team only has two weeks to clear it. Or let say, “hitting back the ball to the other court”..hehehe…

And at the same time, I am yet to submit our monthly statement, chase for payment certificates and payments with the consultants and clients, certify payment to subcontractors, chase payment certificates and payments for our other project, provide support to our Head Office Commercial Manager, provide support to our Contracts.

It is getting stressful that I don’t know which one to finish. Take note, I said; “which one to finish”. It means at least I have started, so, I am working. It is different when you say you don’t know what to start. That means you have not started. Notice the difference?

Tomorrow, I need to ask our Project Manager to excuse me from assisting our other Project in their variation claims which I have been doing for a month now. I already have so much to handle in our own Project.

My workload is overloaded.

Away From Home: Driving in Doha

noreply@blogger.com (.) — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 13:12:00 +0000

Two days ago, as we were traversing the road along the cornice and coming from one of our Project and on our way to the other project, the traffic is a bit jammed. As we approach the last round-about, we discovered the culprit of the traffic mess that just delayed our trip.

It was a car on the inner lane of the round-about trying to squeeze herself into the oncoming traffic. Instead of driving with the flow, the car is being driven clockwise on the round-about against the traffic flow.

Round-about by the way, is famous here in Doha. What I heard actually is that it is famous all around Middle East. Round-about is a road junction where there is a circular island in the middle of the junction. When maneuvering a round-about, the driver only relies from his own judgments and driving skills. Specially during earlier days, because these round-abouts does not have any traffic signals. Only during the last second quarter of last year that the traffic authorities started installing traffic signals at round-abouts.

As we pass by the culprit, I managed to have a peek on the driver, it was a lady driver. Then I thought how in the earth this lady had her license. I certainly would not drive against the traffic at a round-about, I would not be that stupid.

But the fact remains, she has her driving license, I don’t. That’s what made me furious, I can drive, I can safely drive but the police just don’t want me pass. I have taken my driving test six times, yes you heard it right, six (6) times and everytime they always fail me. Even if I thought I was driving ok during the test, but when they announce the result, I still failed. They don’t even bother to tell me what’s wrong with my driving, they just fail me. My last driving instructor even told me that I would certainly pass, 100%, but still the traffic police failed me.

But this lady they let her have her driving license. That is so unfair.

Oookkkk!! So… this is just a clear manifestation that there is no wrong with my driving, but there must be something wrong with the examiner. How can they pass that lady and fail me.

Anyway, not having my driving license is a blessing in disguise in a way that I would certainly buy my own car if I have my driving license. At that time, I am determined to buy my own car when I got my license. But on a hindsight, it is much better to just use a company car. And if you so decided to leave, you don’t have much of a hassle in disposing your car and settling your car loan with the bank. The issues about some expatriates being “stranded” in Doha because of unsettled financial obligations also makes me think twice. They are barred to leave Doha.

But of course, I still have my plans to pursue for my driving license. Transport (own) is a necessity here in Doha. Public transport is not reliable.