I do not have enough things to say on this third trip to Morocco. Some consider me as the luckiest person alive because I do not work at all. For some reasons, my employer is not calling me for any massage session. My day starts at eleven in the morning when I wake up and ends at three in the morning when I sleep. Everyday is the repetition of the previous one. The lifestyle that I have is so sedentary and I have all the luxury of time to rest and sleep, to listen to OPM music over and over again, read Isabel Allende’s Daughter of Fortune, sleep, eat, smoke, sleep, eat, smoke, rest, sleep and sleep and sleep!
My life here is so stagnant, so boring and I hate it! Will somebody give me a new life, a real life, please?
I once said, “I will never spend a hundred bucks for just a cup a coffee!” But things changed.
As more coffee shops and cafés dot Manila and other Philippines’ key cities and the rest of the world, students, young adults and the not so young ones find ways to appreciate and enjoy their stay in this social networking ground.
If I remember it right, my first coffee experience was with my certified coffee addict and good friend, Almich four years ago. After two buckets of San-Mig Light, he invited me to have a coffee break in Starbucks Malate. The aromatic smell of the shop was so relaxing and I instantly fell in love with the idea of spending sometime in this wonderful place. We talked about everything and anything. I enjoyed the moment of staying in a very good and comfortable place in company with a good person while having the pleasure of the addictive cup of Cappuccino. We promised ourselves to be back more often along with some more good friends. Though hesitant, some of our friends joined our once a month coffee session several months after our discovery. And as time passed by, I found myself together with good friends visiting a coffee shop more often than we imagined.
With all the trappings of modern digital world, I think cafés remain to be one of the places where minds meet, where you find activity partners, where you fall in love and where business deals are clinched. What me and my coffee buddies enjoy the most about cafés is the moment of being with each other whether it lasts for half an hour or until the sun is up. The coffee shop is our favorite sanctuary where we exchange news and gossips, political views and ideals, our thoughts, our fears, or aspirations and frustrations. We regularly took the trip back in our high school years and laughed about the silly things we did back then. At times, we just sat and watched life pass by while the smell of coffee with a hint of mocha, hazelnut or vanilla, livened our senses. Coffee shops became integral part of our friendship.
Fast forward today and I am working in UAE, my friends back home, café still remains a place that sets life in motion for many including me and my friends. Whenever I visit malls and passed by Starbucks and the likes, I cannot help but miss my coffee buddies so bad. I still feel good whenever I walk into a café - the smell, the color, the lights, the music and fond memories of the great sessions I had with my coffee buddies - Lorraine, Almich, Eman, Au and the rest of the gang.
Yes, a venti cup Cappuccino or a Mocha Macchiato, the instant internet connection and comfy couch may provide me a relax sitting which I can escape the daily rush and realities of life for a while and satisfy my caffeine craving, I recognize the fact that nothing will change. I still miss the whole gang because I know coffee will never be as good as with their company. I miss you all guys and I am looking forward for some more coffee sessions with you.
For more than two and a half decades of existence in this world, meeting countless people from all walks of life, I was surprised that one of the most horrible and worst person I will meet is my co-employee. Do not get me wrong, I was never a judgmental person. The right time has come for me to say that my assessment about this man’s personality and character is long enough. I already spent more than five months with him and its safe for me say that being with him is like being in hell.
Let me call the person S. S is from the Middle east and is more than 45 years old. He is married, has five children, and works as the shawarma maker for the past 10 years here in the palace. When I first met him in Morocco last June, I thought he is the one in charge in my employer’s personal kitchen staff. Sooner, I learned through my friend, Noel that this S is just acting as if he is the big boss inside the kitchen stadium. He frequwntly yells to anybody whenever he asks favors or whenever he feels doing so. S annoys not only me but also most our fellow staff. Noel usually calls him as “demonyo“. S plays practical jokes that are not funny and sometimes offensive to the person. One time, when Noel was very busy double-checking the personal stuff of my employer, S started playing some jokes and continued bothering Noel. Annoyed and irritated, Noel suddenly turned into a lion and roared aloud, “Stop bothering me! When you are busy you do not also want to be bothered!” Feeling terrorized, S retreated like a puppy.
Even back home, I always enjoy a shawarma. Every night since I started working here, I used to eat one or two of it. As weeks passed, whenever I asked S to make one for me, he would asked me to give him a 10 minute massage in exchanged for a piece of shawarma. Of course, whenever I declined, he refused to make one for me. Then, I decided to ask his permission if I can personally make one for me, he agreed and gave me the right to prepare the shawarma I will eat. Some months ago, my band of brothers was talking about the hygiene and sanitation of the people around us. Noel told me how untidy and unhygienic S is. Every time S makes the shawarma, he would just grab the frozen chicken off the fridge and de-frost it in a bucket of water. He will then directly prepare other ingredients without using sanitary gloves and without even washing his hands. S uses his bare hands to take the chicken out of the bucket and without washing it: he will prepare the freshly defrosted meat ready to be cooked. Upon learning, I imagined how germ infested his shawarma is and I never again asked for his shawarma.
On our second trip to Morocco, I was unfortunate to share the room with S. Though he takes shower occasionally and changes his clothes, his scent was as awful as his feet. In addition, whenever he takes a bath, the whole bathroom was as a disaster as if a tsunami just hit it. He sleeps with his mouth widely open displaying his ruinous teeth. In addition, man, he snores like a pig. The vibrations of his soft palate served as my alarm clock during those fucking days. However, whenever he wakes up ahead of me, the smell of his cigarette would awaken me. I do smoke but I have this habit of not smoking inside the bedroom especially if the room does not have an exhaust or without opening the window. I find the bedroom a smoke-free zone. However, he continuously smoked and threw cigarette butts around his bed even after I told him not to. Sharing a room with him was a horrible experience.
Some months ago, when I was having a quick lunch inside the kitchen, S and Rey (Salad Maker) were also there. Out of nowhere, S touched Rey’s back. Rey hit S back in response to what he did. Funny as it may seem, the joke was quite offensive even if they are both males.
One time, S discreetly took my mobile while I was eating. When I asked where my mobile is, he started denying and naming the persons who, according to him, took my mobile. I decided to call my mobile and when it started to ring, he suddenly rushed to get away from me. I grabbed his shirt and forcibly took my mobile from him. “Never take my mobile again“, I snarled.
On a trip to my employer’s favorite getaway (a villa 30 minutes away from the city), I was with S and three more members of the staff. When finally arrived, S started demanding to drop him on the private villa. The driver apologetically said, “I cannot go there because I am not authorized to bring you there. You can call another driver”. S started shouting Arabic words that I did not understand but I certainly knew those words coming out of his mouth are as foul as his breath. The driver, who happens to be Arabic speaking, too, fought back. It was the Holy month of Ramadan when this incident happened. The word-war between the driver and S almost turned into a boxing match if not for the immediate mediation of some people from the main kitchen.
When we were in Tanzania, I also learned that S had a fistfight with Piro, (chef from the main kitchen). Though I did not know the exact details how the fight began, I was not surprised when they informed me about the fighting incident. According to the people who witnessed the fight, S came to the kitchen telling bad things about Piro. Little did he know that Piro was just on the other side of the room. For an obvious reason, I am on Piro’s side. On our last day in Tanzania, while waiting for the 15-seater aircraft that will bring us to Julius Nyerere International Airport, Noel told me, what S did with the Massai (local women). S together with another member of the staff took advantage of the opportunity by offering food to the locals in exchange of exposing and caressing the nipples of the poor Massai’s breasts, (the other one denied the wrongdoings). According to the stories circulating around the four corners of the kitchen, S even asked the poor Massai to jerk him off. I was flabbergasted when I heard it. Up until now, I cannot figure out how on earth a person would do something really bad like what S did. Only a psychopath evil would do that horrendous thing. The Massais may lack the basic knowledge, maybe unaware of their rights and maybe underprivileged but they have rights and their rights must be respected because Massais’ rights are still human rights. Massais out-of-this-world practices and traditions do not make them lesser persons after all. S’s actions towards his co-employees and towards other people continue to offend some more others and me until now. S is a dirty, maniac, wicked beast and a fiend that will drive you crazy!
I always believe when I read Anne Frank’s that people are really good at heart, but I also learned that there are always exceptions. Obviously, S is the exception of what she said.
I wanted to know more about the promising land of Africa. Based on what I read on some materials and what I saw on TV, I know, Africa has so much to offer.
For nearly two weeks of stay, I found myself awed with Tanzania's natural, wild beauty. Though I find some of the Massai’s culture and traditions weird and out-of-this-world, I have to say, it is truly fascinating. I am impressed with the two young gentlemen I met there - Freddie Jonathan, who is a day older than I am and dreams to study in Italy to become an engineer and Farook - an avid fan of ABS-CBN’s Pangako Sa’yo and It Might be You. Farook told me how remarkable and captivating Pangako Sa’yo is. He is waiting for another ABS-CBN teleserye Kay Tagal Kang Hinintay.
There are some of the snapshots from my Sony DSC-9. Check out a fraction of what Tanzania has to offer and find out that our trip here was a hell of an adventure!
It is a nice thought that during those nights that you cannot sleep, you might be awake in someone else’s dreams. Or maybe someone is thinking about you. I can accept these thoughts, but for the past several weeks, I cannot sleep decently and I am sure the reason is neither of the two thoughts.
Since I came here, I stayed in a decent room with three double-deck beds. I shared the room with three other Pinoys from Housekeeping Department. Occasionally, some Pinoys would sleep over in our room during their respective days off. I cannot remember myself having any problems with sleeping. I can sleep inside a moving bus, a moving jeepney, MRT or LRT, ferry ships, movie house or even sitting in line. My friends can attest to that!
My problem now is I cannot sleep in my bed decently. I soon found out the reason why. It was so horrific to discover how bedbug-infested the bed I am using. I can feel the itchiness all over me. Yuck!
My roommates and I immediately placed the mattress under the brutal heat of the sun. They soon found out that their respective beds are bedbug-infested too. I suggested removing the carpet inside our room and then we all clean it. Unfortunately, our different schedules did not allow us to do so. I reported the incident to the office and the housekeeping department. Both parties did not seem to care.
I sent an email to the manager. I visited the housekeeping office as often as I can until they sent me a new mattress. Yes, they gave a new one. They also gave those fucking blood-sucking bedbugs a new mattress to infest! Maybe I should learn to deal with those parasites or patiently wait for them to attack so I can catch them and burn them to death using all the lighters I have.
I bade farewell to Malaysia and boarded the flight to Christ Church New Zealand. It was fine and cold day when the private plane landed to Christ Church International Airport. The climate was so good and I felt that the fresh and cool breeze of the city refresh my entire body and soul.
The trip from the airport to the suburb of Fairley McKenzie was a long ride through lush, magnificent scenery. The natural beauty of this country kept my eyes from being close even if I only had less than five hours of sleep.
This trip is my all-time favorite. I saw before my very eyes the fulfillment of one my childhood dreams. On our third day, the sky showered snowflakes and everything around me turned into white. It was so amazing; I wish I go back on that same moment again. The following days, the temperature was so cold. My knee joints were aching and I thought I would turn into ice. Yes, it was so damn cold that I do not remember having the morning erection I always have. Hehehe.
The battery of my Sony DSC-9 was charging when everything around me turned into white and I missed documenting one of the nature‘s greatest miracles. However, I still managed to take some snapshots of the vibrant and natural beauty of this truly remarkable country.
Fresh from Christ Church New Zealand, I joined the whole gang on the flight going to Bali, Indonesia. I was surprised to know that I, together with some six other members of the staff will stay in Bali for two more days before going back to Abu Dhabi.
The sun was beginning to set when we arrived at Denpasar International Airport. After half an hour, Sultan and Pirbhaksh joined me on the way to Ritz Carlton Resort and Spa - Bali. Cheerful smiles and garlands greeted us on the entrance hall of the magnificent accommodation. After some rest, my roommates and I decided to go out and check what Bali has to offer.
At nine in the evening, I was looking for Mr. Pierre to ask permission and to inform him about my plans to go out. Two fucking hours passed, my roommates decided not to go out anymore. I was determined to go by myself so I tried my best to locate him. I was losing all the excitement and hope when I finally got the chance to talk to Mr. Pierre and asked his permission. I really wanted to go out and enjoy the place because I was not able to explore the best of Christ Church. Going out alone is not new to me. That is what I do back home whenever nobody is available to join me. After all, whenever I am alone, I could do anything I want. I can be stupid, silly and there is nobody to say, “That was dumb!”
I went straight to Kuta - Bali’s famous nightspot, that is, according to the front desk officer of Ritz Carlton. Just before twelve midnight, I was walking along the streets of Kuta. After enough sweating, I decided to check Hard Rock Bali. To my surprise, Hard Rock was so crowded I cannot barely move. I immediately decided to check The Wave.
It was almost four in the morning when I arrived at the hotel. As I lay down on my bed, feeling nauseous, I told myself, “I am very glad I went by myself. It was freeing in a way I had not expected!”
The following day, I went to Nusa Dua. It was about thirty minute drive from Ritz Carlton Bali. Nusa Dua was the setting of the hit Koreanovela Memories of Bali. It is also a shopping haven and an equally famous nightspot.
Pleasant surprises, luxury and natural beauty are always easy to come by on a trip to Bali- no matter how short or hurried my visit was.
I am not holier than any of you. I am not perfect by any means. I commit mistakes, I stumble and fall. But I learn and I recover. There are events and things in my life that you will learn from. I also know the fact that I will learn from yours. Let's share ideas and stories, let's share peace and love. Let us live life, love one another and learn from each other. Let the dream shall never die!
