Mushroom Huts and Fleeting Thoughts

There was a time when all I ever dreamed of was to ride an airplane.  The friends closest to me would know that… and that time was not so long ago.  It was just last year when I started flying.  A few years back and less than a year out of college, I was very lucky to be given a scholarship in a foreign university but I guess I was not emotionally ready to live in another country at that time, studying a course I just really have grown into and which I feel is so not me for 2 years.  I have foregone the opportunity.

In early 2007, I decided to fulfill – or even force – my dream.  I packed for a weekend in Cebu and I had a blast!  I just realized that a part of the riding-an-airplane dream was a longing for life experiences that I cannot learn from books.  And so I’m sharing these travel anecdotes while killing boredom on a flight back home.  Part I is about flights, cab rides and airport tales. 

§  Looking for an airline office in Shanghai to settle some flight details, I had to walk for a good one hour from the hotel as no cab driver understood the English address written in the paper I was holding.  When I finally found the booking office, the system was down and I had to be directed to a farther office, which again, no cab driver knew where.  That was the longest walk of my life – alone, in a foreign city and only knowing very limited Mandarin from my former Chinese roommates back in college!  Good thing, the hotel’s address is written in the room card holder in Chinese and I was able to ride the cab on my way back. 

§  Riding cabs in Petaling Jaya (PJ), Malaysia, on the other hand, could be a breeze.  Although I learned that it’s the passenger who pays for the toll fees!  From the cab rides to and from the office in Bandar Utama and the Hilton hotel in PJ, I learned that cab drivers in Malaysia could be good conversationalists in English.  They issue receipts too.  In one of my rides, the cab driver showed me Universiti Malaya – the school I was supposedly enrolling in a few years ago.  It looked a lot like UP to me from the outside.  I’ll leave it at that.

§  In another ride, I learned what “Jaya” means – Success.  That’s the reason why it is usually affixed in the names of places there – Cyberjaya, Putrajaya, Petaling Jaya and all other Jaya’s you could think of!

§  In yet another cab ride in PJ, I was coughing profusely when the cab driver offered me lozenges wrapped in red cellophane that bore the name “Hacks (Gula-gula).”  I was so amazed because a few days back, while riding the MRT in Singapore and also coughing profusely, one old lady gave me the same lozenges but I was so scared to try it out, not knowing what it could really be!  I just thanked the old Lady then and kept the Hacks.  When the cab driver gave it to me, I finally tried it out, knowing that it really is for cough. And boy was it effective!

§  To Malaysia from Singapore, I caught a 7AM Singapore Airlines flight at the Changi International Airport to catch a 9:30AM meeting in Malaysia (our office is in Petaling Jaya, about 45 minutes away from Kuala Lumpur) and in the boarding gates, I was suddenly surrounded by a pack of African teenagers.   One of them approached the very sleepy me and asked, “Miss, how far away is Kuala Lumpur from Singapore?”  And I shot back, “It’s about 45 minutes away.  You are with this big group?”  Proudly, he shared with me, “Yes, we are students from a country named Botswana.  Heard about it?  Our government is sponsoring our tertiary education in CHIS but it’s a loan.  If we do well, it will be converted to a grant.  Have you heard about CHIS?” “Err… nope.” “I also don’t know until now what CHIS stands for!”  A few minutes after, I realized that this guy from Botswana, style and all, looks like a high school friend – Carlos Lopez!!! K-ozz, if you’re reading this blog, it is a meant to be a compliment. =D Your skintone, though, is much lighter.  

§  Arriving at the Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KLIA), I got quite confused where the baggage carousels were.  After going around and finding no luck, I realized how stupid I was not to read the signs. Disclaimer: it was not a usual sign. Haha!  I found out through the drawing that I had to ride the KLIA Express, a train that connects 2 buildings and is exclusive to the airport.  Cool! I have never seen one like it.  Usually, the trains found in airports connect it to the city – like Shanghai’s Magnetic Levitation Train (or Maglev), which I did not have the chance to ride.  The students from Botswana got lost too, by the way.

§  Another airport story but this time, it is at the Pudong International Airport, on a flight back to Manila, I met a good soul – Ate Wilms.  We sort of became buddies while waiting for our flight.  And together, we witnessed how a very trusting Pinoy was robbed of her baggage which contains important documents such as land titles.  Minutes before, we were told by a Pinoy who usually accompanies OFW’s to the airport to stay away from the culprit (who, sadly, is another Pinoy) as there have been a number of victims before.  The modus operandi is that he will act as some chummy friend, would gain your trust, and ask you to hold your baggage while at the check-in counter.  Before we knew it, he already victimized the too-trusting Pinay. 

More anecdotes are coming in my next blogs.

Tuesdays with Boni - our young, hotshot business professor whose brilliance is drawn from some well so deep we couldn’t dig - always give us something to look forward to. From demented souls to walking sunshines in 7 weeks? Not bad… Will jot down his what-not’s (Average of 6 per meeting. Right, Keats? Haha!) so we won’t forget.

What-not No. 1: Blue Ocean Strategy. In a sea of black and white cows, a purple cow will stand out. Chances are, in time, all the black and white cows will make themselves purple too. With all the cows now purple (this is called “the red ocean”) what will the purple cow do? Will it assert its “purpleness?” EEEEHHHH… Wrong answer! The purple cow should become green so that he’ll be a green cow in a sea of purple (and the ocean becomes blue again). How did all the colors get into the picture? Don’t ask me – I also don’t know the answer. The marketing majors know better.

Moral of the story – or the what-not: Differentiate and attract new market.

What-not No. 2: Leap-Frog (For Ray, it’s a Quantum Leap). When faced with a problem, what should be done? Automatic answer? Solve it! Errr… Right, but something is missing. Going back to the blue ocean strategy, you are in a sea of problem solvers – the black and white cows. How do you become the purple cow? Make that leap frog (or again, the quantum leap). Step back, look at the problem in a wider perspective, and make THE MOVE that will bring the situation to a higher level. There should be that magic to it that everything would seem to fall into its proper place – but on a higher ground. You become the green cow now by being not just the problem solver but the strategic thinker (TSING! Magic! ).

Moral of the what-not: See opportunities for growth in problems. (Nice, optimistic view…)

What-not No. 3: The Acid Test. And so you’ve made that leap frog. Case solved? Not yet. Let’s create more problems and subject THE MOVE to an acid test. What will the enemies do to retaliate? When they become gold, how do we steal the thunder – or the shimmer? Have we made the leap long and high enough that we’ve transformed into that shining, glittering green that no gold can match? (Mali pa rin… we should be glittering-blue- that-no-gold- can-match, Ateneo nga eh… Kala mo ha! May butas pa rin paper mo, uy! )

Moral of the what-not: Don’t be complacent.  Set stretch-goals.

Dementors have escaped Azkaban, loomed around Hogwartz and decided to stay with me everyday at Cubicle 3RA-12, from the time I start to sip my morning coffee until I hit the OK button to put my notebook in Hibernate mode every night.

The corporate world has become my soul-sucking fiend, robbing me of those precious hours of romancing Billy Crawford and his suave dance moves in my daydream, or those golden moments when I find a perfect book after rummaging through tall piles in the book sale.  Instead, my mind gears would run wild, non-stop, and would tend to shift fast from numbers and symbols that would keep the profits coming – to words and more words that lead to the ONE which would sound good to the ears and then again, keep the profits coming.  As they say, that’s the bottom line.

Ten long hours of this routine everyday is all I need to turn me from a bid manager into a bid machine.  If that’s not enough and I’m becoming more fortunate by the minute, let’s put in some rubbing of elbows with the Witches and Wizards in their Big Blue robes or those pretending to be and feeling like royalty.  Ten long hours of this routine everyday is all I need to be that proud and cunning corporate animal, which I never would want to become.

And so everyday has become a struggle to protect the one thing that keeps me going despite the physical exhaustion, the mental drain, and the emotional showdown – my INNER SUNSHINE, which has nurtured all hope and idealism that I’ve managed to keep, straight from the halls of the University.  With a Thinkpad instead of a wand in hand, I hum and cast the Patronus Charm in my mind.  “Expecto patronum!” 

Suddenly, that silvery cloud of peregrine falcon shields me.  Whew! There will surely be sunnier, better days ahead.  Outside Cubicle 3RA-12.  Very far from dementors.

          I am aching to leave.  It is not an assertion of independence as I am already suffocated by the freedom that college and working have brought me, which translates to being the sole in-charge of my life.  It may sound good but there are many complications to it like finding myself desperate and helpless at times.  I am not sure if it’s because I want to prove something, and even not surer what that something is.  I would want to think that it’s because I want to advance in my career, achieve greater things and convince myself that I could be good if I really wanted to.  But underneath these is the longing to be appreciated and a wish that somehow, the people I care so much about would realize that they are missing something.  What scares me in facing this battle of self-worth is the realization that even after I’m gone, my absence would not be felt just like still air on a hot summer day.  It may be too selfish of me but I know that it would hurt me deeply knowing that while I try to endure the academic and personal struggles in a far-away land, their worlds revolve just the same - never minding the still air they cannot see, but is just there… always hanging around. 

          What difference does having you in my life make? 

          I could go on embracing singlehood, enjoying the freedom of not having to inform anyone about my whereabouts and planning my time exactly the way I choose to.   I could shield my heart from the possibility of being bruised again and prevent the temporary collapse of my ego boundaries also known as that complicated thing called falling in love.  I could choose to be carefree, gung-ho and in control of myself. 

          I could go on like this and pretend that all is well within me.  And in turn, I rob myself of the chance to be happy; for these are the same things that make my bus rides a torture and my blog entries so gloomy. 

          About a month ago, I chose not to go on with the routine I’ve pushed myself too hard into.  Suddenly, the storms outside my window that I had so painstakingly tried to ignore, by keeping myself inside what I considered a sturdy shelter, had just calmed down…  And I never knew of any cure or any balm to my pains until then, like experiencing the stillness of waters after knowing only turbulence. 

          What difference does having you in my life make? 

          You were the reason why I decided to embrace that unexpected change and that makes the very big difference.  It placed my trust back in prayers answered and lofty wishes granted.  In my heart of hearts, I knew that I desired only one thing - to meet that one star that will always shine in my heavens.  God was most wonderful when He fulfilled that by bringing you into my life and for that, I’d forever be thankful.

Bakit kaya kung kailan sinabi mo na sa sarili mong tama na muna, may mga tao pa ring pilit kang bibigyan ng dahilan para mahalin sila araw-araw; mga taong kahit pagsaraduhan mo na ng pinto, makikita mo na lang na dumaan na pala sa bintana at nakapasok na sa bahay at pati na rin sa buhay mo?  Kung may akyat-bahay, mayroon din atang akyat-puso…  At ganoon din nga siguro ang pakay nila - ang pumasok nang hindi inaasahan at lumabas na tangay-tangay na ang mundo mo.

          Dati, hindi ko maintindihan kung bakit ang mga sugarol, kahit walang wala na ay pilit pa ring gagawa ng paraan para makataya.  Ngayon ay mukhang alam ko na ang sagot.  Siguro’y dahil gustuhin ko man o hindi, bahagi din ako ng pinakamalaking pasugalan sa lahat kung saan hindi lamang salapi o ari-arian ang nakataya kundi pati damdamin at pagkatao.

          Natangay na nga ang mundo mo, makakaya mo pang isugal pati damdamin at pagkatao mo.  Ano nga bang mas lalakas pang pwersa sa mundo kaysa dito na kaya kang bigyan ng luha o tuwa, ubusan ng lakas o punuin ng pag-asa, isadlak sa lupa o ilipad sa ulap?

          Bakit kaya kung kailan sinabi mo na sa sarili mong tama na muna, may mga tao pa ring pilit kang bibigyan ng dahilan para mahalin sila araw-araw?  Kaya tuloy mapapataya ka na naman, aasang sa pagsasangla ng damdamin at pagkatao mo, ang kapalit ay ang kalahati ng puso mo… na siya namang bubuo uli sa natangay mong mundo.

          An email last night from my former boss appeared to me as a mockery of sorts, although I knew deep down  how well meaning he intended it to be.  The message:  go out and find your Prince! Yeah right… What a great way to greet someone who now doesn’t mind spending late nights in the office, doing stuff just to keep herself busy and feel numb about what is happening with her love life - or should I say the lack it - and better yet, her being in the incorrigible state of denial in the possibility of love posing itself infront of her again.

         Well, who wouldn ‘t be in such pathetic state if you’re living in a fairy tale world turned upsidedown; where instead of kissing princes disguised as frogs, you meet, date, and fall in love with frogs mistifying you in their prince-like glory.  The paradox though, is that even if its harsh realities could have taken away all my faith in finding pure love, I haven’t given up my idealism; that the probable reason why I am in that terrible state of denial is because that idealism has made me set even higher standards.  Enough of those "ok-looking-bordering-from-the-almost-acceptable" kind, as Isabel Wolff of "The Trials of Tiffany Trott" fame would put it, when all I ever wanted is the "ok-looking-bordering-from-the-almost-DIVINE."  Yes, the harsh realities of love have only made my quest for the Prince ethereal and magical.  And I believe that somewhere, in some part of the world, maybe where the sun is just beginning to set to slumber as my moon alights in the dusky sky, that Prince is also set for the quest to find his Princess. 

         But then, there’s one question that has long bothered me, the answer to which, only God - the writer of my love story - knows… For though grounded I may be, the superficiality of my gullible, childlike emotions may lead me to be dazzled by who seems to be THE ONE.  True enough, my fickle, erring mind could do a "Gloria" and have lapses in judgements from time to time.  With that, I ask, "how many more frogs would I have to kiss before I meet the Prince?"