The Flight That Was

I don't know how it had happened, for the first time in 12 years of traveling I missed to look the right date of my flight. I was supposed to leave a day earlier than I thought. This so freaking strange to have happened thinking I was even the one who chose the dates of my flights for booking and this was my third travel of the same route and time slot.

It was my fault. I was too confident that everything was fine and didn't bother to check my ticket days before the flight. My nonchalance has taken its toll on my holiday budget. I had to buy new tickets for both local and international flights. What a mess, it cost me a fortune.

On the eve of my assumed departure I was still busy packing the last few things that I had to bring to Africa. I got tired of the boring routine so I thought of taking a short break by checking-in online. I couldn't believe what I discovered. I was supposed to leave for Manila in the morning of that very day to catch the flight for Dubai later in the afternoon. WHY? It was a shock of my life. I felt like the sky was going to fall on me. I closed my eyes and tried to regain my composure and sanity that's left in me.

I had to think of a plan. I should be able to leave on the following day. I must or I would be charged for AWOL.

I called the office of Emirates airline in Dubai for a possibility of ticket re-booking as Manila office was already closed. I waited for 10 minutes before that cacophonous answering machine diverted me to a desk clerk who spoke English with an Arabic accent. He also told me to wait and it was like forever. He came back after an agonizing 15 min. and said that he had already booked me for the next day's flight and I must go to an Emirates counter in Manila to pay the 100 Euros no-show fee. That was fine with me as long as I can leave.

Next, I called Airfrance in Paris for the re-booking of my connecting flight to Bamako. There was no problem. My flight was re-scheduled without penalty. It was 12 midnight and I was not yet done with packing. I had to get some sleep, so I did. This is one thing I like myself I can sleep over worries and problems.

I woke up full of hope. We left for Cagayan de Oro City early in the morning to give us enough time to settle my flight for Manila. On the way I called the Emirates office in Manila to confirm re-booking that was done in Dubai. I thought the ordeal was almost over but it was not. I was told by the clerk that my ticket has restrictions: it can't be re-booked and it's non-refundable. All I could do was to sigh. I have to take the consequences of my own folly. It can't be undone anymore.

To add insult to injury, my PAL ticket for Manila was also forfeited. It too has restrictions. Damn, this promo tickets. It's cheap but you must be very careful not to violate any of its restrictions, not one or you'll end up buying another ticket.

We went to find a booking agency to resolve this ticket story. I paid about a Thousand Dollars for all. It was a mixed feeling of relief and dismay that I felt like jumping off the bridge and just perish...ha, ha. What a costly lesson in life.

I reached in Dubai airport with the happenings of the day still milling in my thoughts. I look around the shops while waiting for my flight to Paris. I saw a laptop of a good brand. Damn, I remembered again the money wasted for nothing. It was worth to buy the good brand. The one I'm using now is just of a so-so brand because I was saving. Saving for what, for the rainy days? No, it’s for days when my memory will fail me.

In May I will be going home again taking the same itinerary. Never will I forget again because the first thing I will do upon my arrival is buy a white board slate and hang it on the wall of our kitchen. I will write in bold capital letters the date of my departure.

Alas, sometimes shit happens in life.

D - Disenfranchise

I was thinking of a topic that would best fit for letter "D". Nothing would come to my mind. I took a break, watched TV. It's a movie that I haven't started. The word "disenfranchised" was twice used by the lead actress whose name I don't know. So I thought of picking it as the word for D. As defined by Encarta it means deprive of right, especially voting: to deprive a person or organization of a privilege, immunity, or legal right, especially the right to vote. In the movie it was used to describe a dilapidated house; and the second time was to describe the protagonist's dull and nerdy friends.

As the story unfolded the plot and characters became familiar to me. It's a modern adaptation of Snow White. I researched it and I found out that the title was Sydney White. It's a 2007 movie, quite ancient though. But it didn't matter, what's important I learned a new term.

C for Cargo and Cooking

As I write this blog I am not sure yet of what topic to tackle that is significant to letter C. I was out of the blog circle for quite a long time enough to make me forget the password of my google account. Right now I am in the Emirates lounge in Dubai waiting for my next flight, to Paris. Final destination is Bamako. The mark of the end of my holiday.

I was not able to keep my affirmation to Randomness' call for a common topic on time. My leave is short that I don't have time to sit and tinker the internet. I should say I am not committed to the blogspot that I started. Laziness and procrastination has killed the momentum.

Anyway it's not total abandonment to the craft yet. Whenever I get the time and the fire to write I do write like now. I wont wait for Friday. The idea might be shelved again, as the old adage says "Strike while the iron is hot". But until now I am still thinking of what to write about C.

Aha! now I know--- C is for cargo. For the first time in my life I brought with me a big and heavy cargo that I checked in. Its a big carton, about a meter square and half a meter high and 26 kgs heavy. I'm a light traveller, this box is already too much for me.

In the local flight where only 15 kgs. is allowed I paid for the excess kilos. But in the international flight we can go as heavy as 30 kgs. If already a silver member of Skywards another 12 kgs more of entitlement. So, I'm spared.

Well, what is inside this box and what prompt me to carry it painstakingly? It is a melange of cooking and kitchen ware and other personal things. Ever since I started cooking my own food I got interested of acquiring the basic things needed in a kitchen--- a rice cooker, oven toaster, steamer, pressure cooker, casseroles, utensils, knives, etc. My folks said I'm already bringing the whole kitchen with me...ha-ha, indeed I am.

I started preparing my own food 4 months ago. I eat what is right for me. And as a result I lost 11 kgs. from my former 93 kgs weight (I gained back 2 kgs during my leave, I vow to lose that again). My blood pressure has gone down to normal. The ankle pains in the mornings was also gone. Good for me to initiate the move to cook my own food. I would have not achieve anything if until now I still continue to eat in our canteen.

I should say C is for cooking too.

Strike in Loulo

FROM LEFT: That's me, burned down house focused.

FROM LEFT: A house damaged by fire, a room ransacked

FROM LEFT: The walk back to the camp, a burning SUV

FROM LEFT: Bed turned upside down, luggages scattered outside

FROM LEFT: Another car burning, doors broken

July 10, 2009

None of our workers came. Quite strange, so I phoned the local foreman to find out why. He said the gate was blocked by strikers. They couldn't get in. The unemployed villagers of Loulo and its neighboring villages staged a strike in protest for new the mining contractor's move to hire strangers instead of considering them first.

It was a long day for me, doing helping job to a boiler maker cutting flanges.

July 11, 2009

It was raining. Despite this and the absence of my men I came to work. At around 9 AM 10 of my men arrived. The night before the military managed to disperse and pushed the strikers back to the village.

We proceeded to work hoping that others will arrive. An hour later one of my men received a call that the situation in the village had worsened. The strikers had regrouped and became belligerent beyond the control of the outnumbered gendarmes and police. The pipeline conveying toxic waste to the tailings dam was punctured by saboteurs. And the crane sent out to fix it was burned. The expat supervisor in charge of the repair was attacked but luckily escaped. His chin was hurt when the windshield of his pickup was smashed. I came to think this one was genuinely serious comparing it to the previous strikes that the company had resolved without any property damaged.

The workers were told to go home for fear that the ire the strikers might turn to their families for their insistence to come to work and not symphatizing with them.

I too asked permission to go home. Though my mind was trying to picture the situation as manageable I was also thinking of the possibility of a flee if things would turn ugly. I hitched a ride on the Honda Fourtrax (a 4WD all-terrain bike) of a Filipino colleague even if it was illegal to carry a passenger. I even didn't wear a skull guard. At that moment no one was worried of safety anymore.

At home I packed my valuables and medicines into my backpack. I was getting tensed and fidgety. I opened the curtains to see whats going on outside. I saw vehicles arrived and people running to their rooms. Then I heard the successive shots gunfire like war has already commences. I got panic. I hid in the toilet and peeped outside. I phoned home and was crying in fear of a violent death. My family were worried of me too. Not knowing what help they can offer and how. Their voices helped me to calm down.

I ran out of my room. One hundred meters away a house was already burning. The shout of angry people was terrifying. I went to the house of that Filipino colleague who brought me home. He too was wary of a coming attack. He put the kitchen knives ready at hand in case of an assault.

We decided to get away with the Fourtrax. We were joined by another terrified Filipino. And all three of us speeded away.

On the road we met my local worker who couldn't go home to the village because the gate was stormed by strikers. He was reluctant to leave his motorbike and just ran away because it's not paid-up yet. Thinking of me still in camp he got worried and decided to fetch me there. That's when we met him.

To ease the load of the Fourtrax I hopped into his motorbike with my backpack. Together we rode in convoy up to the hill (a stockpile where the crusher was set). The Filipino colleague saw the general manager's vehicle went to that direction so he presumed its where we would assemble. We didn't find anyone there. Our fear grew of the thought that strikers might catch us there.

We rode back down hoping to see any friendly faces. Not a chance, the plant was ghostly quiet. We decided to go to the underground. On the way we met a vehicle with French expats. They told us that no one was there (perhaps, they too were also lost) and that the rest of the expats were assembled at the mining contractor's place. We turned around and followed them.

At long last our ordeal was over. We were rejoined to the group in safety. We embarked on a big truck that's converted to a bus and joined by other Filipinos. I sat there exhausted and hungry, waiting for whatever instrucion from the organizers. It was almost 1 PM.

I was thinking of the things left in my room: my $300 Samsonite suitcase that I bought in Nairobi airport, Nike sneakers, clothes, digital BP monitor, Wahl clipper and other things. I regretted not bringing them for they too are important to me. But then, I thought those were only things...it can be replaced....my life is more important. I should be thankful instead for surviving this ordeal unscathed.

After an hour we departed but to the direction of the plant. We all disembarked and each one of us was given with a 1-m reinforcing bars. "What's this for? An arm?", I said. What can a reinforcing bar do if the strikers were armed with guns and bolos? Anyway we continued walking, tired and hungry.

Afar we saw not only one column of smoke but several ones. I was getting worried of my things lest our block was one of those burning. Luckily it wasn't but it didn't escaped from the hands of the looters. My door lock was broken to pieces. My things were scattered on the floor. The fridge was forayed and emptied. My closet too.

I lost my decent clothes, digital blood pressure monitor, alarm clock (an object of sentimental value), and other little things. My precious suitcase was left outside, emptied of its content. I was so happy to see it again in good condition. My shoes and clipper was strategically hidden in the closet that it wasn't seen by the looters.

Some of our colleagues lost everything including passports to fire. Some lost their laptops, cellphones and jewelry to looting. I am still lucky. Those whose houses were not touched were luckier.

Seven houses were damaged by the fire and 10 were looted. A Grove crane and several vehicles and motorbikes were also lit to fire.

I will never forget this horrifying experience. An historical event of my life.

Happy to be Back...

When I woke up today I was not feeling better. I had a diarrhea. It could be the squash in coconut extract garnished with fried Capitan fish that caused my sickness. Coconut is not aplenty in this place, so they (co-Pinoys) have to use the one in can sold in the commisary. I ate a hearty meal, and perhaps my gastric system was shocked after a long time that it had been deprived of the rich and creamy white extract.

I still managed to get up and called my "right-hand" in the job to take charge of the task for today. It is Sunday today. Only a few of my people would come to do a routinary job, that's why I was confident enough to delegate my obligation for today. I'm just weak enough to change my clothes and walk to the jobsite.

I prepared a greaseless breakfast and went back to bed to rest and eventually fell asleep.

This is my first blog after a long long while. My last was before I went on leave last May. I have many topics to share but procrastination is controlling me from scribbling. I lost the momentum but not the drive and desire.

This post is my booster -- an indication that I am serious in updating my journal. Happy to be back even if not well.