Wednesday, October 31, 2007
at
10:10 PM
|
0
comments
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.
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.
Posted by
rehabman