Gosh, how I missed my blogsite. It's been awhile I lost touch. Our internet line got burned. There's no cable to change it right away. It has to be ordered yet, well everything here crawls, true to the meaning of WAIT - West African International Time.
I kept on checking my notebook for internet connectivity for several days until I finally gave up. The TV was my best friend again.
I joked my colleague to kill the guy who caused the burning of the cable. He's done a great havoc to our social life.
The moment I stopped checking the line got fixed without my knowledge. I was a bit late before I knew it. Thanks anyway -- I'm back to the circle.
I felt a certain kind of longing when I thought of opening my blogspot. I felt a lump in my throat. Is this how I'm so attached to my blogsite? Thanks a lot. I hope this enthusiasm lingers so that I keep on writing.
Tomorrow is my last day on site. But I still have to come to work in the morning. My boss gave me so much task to finish before I can go. He threatened to cancel my leave if I fail to finish. No way...I must go. He's only joking anyway.
I haven't packed my things yet. Later on after I post this. It won't take me long to fill a single carry on luggage.
From the site we are going to be flown by a small plane to Bamako, the capital of Mali. It's terribly scary flying with this "toy" plane. The 1 hour ride is an endless agony.
My stopovers are Paris and Dubai. I must stay away from the duty free shops.
It's "Ciao" for the meantime. Would be back to writing when I'm home.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
My Favorite Songs
In "Any Dream Will Do J?" one of the contenders sang "Had a Bad Day", my favorite. The bulb in the clouded balloon blinked---why not write something about favorite songs? It could be a cool topic.
There are quite a few songs in my list. I'm not updated but I do collect in my thoughts songs that captivate my auditory sense. I'm not keen on lyrics. In fact, I haven't memorized any. It's the tune that makes me fall for it---its "melodic it" that makes me close my eyes in euphoria when I hear it.
I'm poor in naming tunes. I have to rely in somebody else's remebering prowess or search the net for titles.
My choices are not old like my age. It keeps on updating as long as my hearing is still intact.
There's also a story behind each song.
YOUR'E BEAUTIFUL
by James Blunt
I will always remember this song because Julia burnt this in the CD for me. It never fails to remind me of her. I've already cried a thousand rivers over this song.
WAKE ME UP WHEN SEPTEMBER ENDS
by Green Day
Sad song, nice tune... I'm a sentimental person, it captivated my heart the first time I heard it on a movie trailer. It's the only song of Green Day I like.
BUBBLY
by Colbie Caillat
A favorite by accident. I asked Jericho, my nephew for the title of a song which I heard on TV. I tried to sing it to him to give an idea of how it sound but it was an effort gone bad...he gave me this title. He had it played in Imeem to confirm if it was it. I wasn't sure anymore of how it sounded originally but it seemed to me it's it. I liked it. Few months had passed before I found the title of the real song I had been searching.
HAD A BAD DAY
by Daniel Powter
This is the song I have mistaken for as Bubbly. I discovered the title myself when I heard it again. This is the song I heard on "Any Dream Will Do J?".
TOO LATE TO APOLOGIZE
by Timbaland
My first encounter with this song was when my friends mobile phone rang. It's his ringtone. It's a pity I couldn't ask him to pass it on to me--- my phone does not have a polyphonic feature. The next time I heard it was after 7 months. I tried to grasp every word I can remember in the lyric line and searched in Youtube. My latest add.
"Our choice of music reflects our personality, but not how humane we are".
There are quite a few songs in my list. I'm not updated but I do collect in my thoughts songs that captivate my auditory sense. I'm not keen on lyrics. In fact, I haven't memorized any. It's the tune that makes me fall for it---its "melodic it" that makes me close my eyes in euphoria when I hear it.
I'm poor in naming tunes. I have to rely in somebody else's remebering prowess or search the net for titles.
My choices are not old like my age. It keeps on updating as long as my hearing is still intact.
There's also a story behind each song.
YOUR'E BEAUTIFUL
by James Blunt
I will always remember this song because Julia burnt this in the CD for me. It never fails to remind me of her. I've already cried a thousand rivers over this song.
WAKE ME UP WHEN SEPTEMBER ENDS
by Green Day
Sad song, nice tune... I'm a sentimental person, it captivated my heart the first time I heard it on a movie trailer. It's the only song of Green Day I like.
BUBBLY
by Colbie Caillat
A favorite by accident. I asked Jericho, my nephew for the title of a song which I heard on TV. I tried to sing it to him to give an idea of how it sound but it was an effort gone bad...he gave me this title. He had it played in Imeem to confirm if it was it. I wasn't sure anymore of how it sounded originally but it seemed to me it's it. I liked it. Few months had passed before I found the title of the real song I had been searching.
HAD A BAD DAY
by Daniel Powter
This is the song I have mistaken for as Bubbly. I discovered the title myself when I heard it again. This is the song I heard on "Any Dream Will Do J?".
TOO LATE TO APOLOGIZE
by Timbaland
My first encounter with this song was when my friends mobile phone rang. It's his ringtone. It's a pity I couldn't ask him to pass it on to me--- my phone does not have a polyphonic feature. The next time I heard it was after 7 months. I tried to grasp every word I can remember in the lyric line and searched in Youtube. My latest add.
"Our choice of music reflects our personality, but not how humane we are".
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Yiriba - La Mort
Yiriba Diarra was our travel coordinator. He passed away this morning after a massive heart attack two days ago.
He had been working in the company for a long time. If I am right, he was one of the pioneers. He took care of our flight bookings, escorted us to the airport during departures and met us during arrivals. Every expat knows him...maybe also loved him.
Lately, he had grown so big---plus the age was a lethal combination that perhaps triggered the attack. His untimely death has brought many of us, about his age and in the heavy side of the scale, to alarm.
I must lose weight. I must maintain a healthy diet and workout. Do yoga to unleash stress.
"Goodbye Yiriba, you left so soon without finishing your job. You still have to book my air ticket".
It's only a week shy from now and I'm due to go for leave, but how can I?
Fingers crossed.
He had been working in the company for a long time. If I am right, he was one of the pioneers. He took care of our flight bookings, escorted us to the airport during departures and met us during arrivals. Every expat knows him...maybe also loved him.
Lately, he had grown so big---plus the age was a lethal combination that perhaps triggered the attack. His untimely death has brought many of us, about his age and in the heavy side of the scale, to alarm.
I must lose weight. I must maintain a healthy diet and workout. Do yoga to unleash stress.
"Goodbye Yiriba, you left so soon without finishing your job. You still have to book my air ticket".
It's only a week shy from now and I'm due to go for leave, but how can I?
Fingers crossed.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Mother's Day
We were so busy last week trying to meet deadlines of scheduled jobs. We worked overtime and even our weekend rest was jeopardized. But this did not make me forget to remember my dear mother today. I called home and greeted her, "Happy Mother's Day".
Our conversation did not take long as she was complaining she could not hear me well. Yet, she made it sure that my loving thought for her was reciprocated by saying that she was happy I called her.
Nearing 80 in few months time, Mother is still active. She still tends her plants and do the marketing. But her faculties and reflexes are not as fast as when she was younger. These, we understand when she becomes oblivious of our deprived past. Perhaps her memory bank only allows happy thoughts to be withdrawn and simply keep the unhappy ones into the vault of forgetfulness.
In fairness, she is a religious woman. Never gets tired of attending prayer meetings and never misses mass on Sundays and holidays of obligation. In fact, when I called her this morning she was on her way to the Monastery of the Transfiguration in Malaybalay with my other siblings and in-laws to celebrate mass with the monks. Its a 5-hour drive from home.
As this day is dedicated to all the mothers of the world, I wish them happiness and all the best things in life. And to my beloved mother I wish her more Mother's Day to come, good health, peace as ever, happiness and matriarchal joy.
I am grateful to her for carrying me for 9 months in her womb and delivering me to the world, for bringing me up to who I am now, for understanding my imperfections, for standing by with me in bad and good times and for giving me inspiration to live.....
And most of all for being such a spendthrift...lol...(jokingly but half-true, lol). Ah mothers will always be mothers.
Our conversation did not take long as she was complaining she could not hear me well. Yet, she made it sure that my loving thought for her was reciprocated by saying that she was happy I called her.
Nearing 80 in few months time, Mother is still active. She still tends her plants and do the marketing. But her faculties and reflexes are not as fast as when she was younger. These, we understand when she becomes oblivious of our deprived past. Perhaps her memory bank only allows happy thoughts to be withdrawn and simply keep the unhappy ones into the vault of forgetfulness.
In fairness, she is a religious woman. Never gets tired of attending prayer meetings and never misses mass on Sundays and holidays of obligation. In fact, when I called her this morning she was on her way to the Monastery of the Transfiguration in Malaybalay with my other siblings and in-laws to celebrate mass with the monks. Its a 5-hour drive from home.
As this day is dedicated to all the mothers of the world, I wish them happiness and all the best things in life. And to my beloved mother I wish her more Mother's Day to come, good health, peace as ever, happiness and matriarchal joy.
I am grateful to her for carrying me for 9 months in her womb and delivering me to the world, for bringing me up to who I am now, for understanding my imperfections, for standing by with me in bad and good times and for giving me inspiration to live.....
And most of all for being such a spendthrift...lol...(jokingly but half-true, lol). Ah mothers will always be mothers.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Peak of Summer
April and May are months when dry season in Mali is at its peak, when atmospheric temperature is 49°C, that's under the shade. When under the sun the temperature is 59°C.
Fever is 37°C and up and boiling water is 100°C. Just imagine you are in high fever and dipped in a pool of hot water over half-way to boiling . This is what you feel when you suddenly go outside in the open sun at midday. But when already exposed since morning time, the increasing heat of the sun is unnoticeable anymore. The body seems to get used to it.
Heat is peak at 3 PM such that tap water is too hot to bear. Even at night and morning time the water is still warm. Nature is the water heater. In the evening time you can't stay outside because the heat that the ground absorbed during the day is given off and its just too hot for comfort.
My job requires me to be out in the sun the whole day. I don't want to wilt like dried prunes so I protect myself with sunblock lotion (SPF 45) and I wear long-sleeved shirt. This way, skin cancer and premature ageing is prevented. Who wants wrinkles anyway?
I can consume 4-5 liters of water a day easily without emptying my bladder. All go to rehydration. That is why wherever I go I bring with me my water bottle or "die" with thirst.
This situation has made me hypothesized that Africans have dark skin because it adapted to the hot condition of their place. After 30 million years of human evolution their skin turned dark to fend off illnesses that sun exposure brings. Light-skinned race are more prone to skin cancer than the brown-skinned race but the blacks are not.
This is the climate here in the sub-Saharan region. Half of the year is dry. When its dry, it's literally dry. No rain whatsoever. Grasses die and trees deprived of leaves for the entire season. Dust is everywhere. This is the so-called summer of Mali.
Obviously, for us coming from the temperate zone this kind of environment is a punishment. But what brought us here is another story... I won't elaborate it for now, perhaps in the future.
This is my twelfth dry season here, nearing its end, yet, still counting. Only God knows when will I stop here.
Fever is 37°C and up and boiling water is 100°C. Just imagine you are in high fever and dipped in a pool of hot water over half-way to boiling . This is what you feel when you suddenly go outside in the open sun at midday. But when already exposed since morning time, the increasing heat of the sun is unnoticeable anymore. The body seems to get used to it.
Heat is peak at 3 PM such that tap water is too hot to bear. Even at night and morning time the water is still warm. Nature is the water heater. In the evening time you can't stay outside because the heat that the ground absorbed during the day is given off and its just too hot for comfort.
My job requires me to be out in the sun the whole day. I don't want to wilt like dried prunes so I protect myself with sunblock lotion (SPF 45) and I wear long-sleeved shirt. This way, skin cancer and premature ageing is prevented. Who wants wrinkles anyway?
I can consume 4-5 liters of water a day easily without emptying my bladder. All go to rehydration. That is why wherever I go I bring with me my water bottle or "die" with thirst.
This situation has made me hypothesized that Africans have dark skin because it adapted to the hot condition of their place. After 30 million years of human evolution their skin turned dark to fend off illnesses that sun exposure brings. Light-skinned race are more prone to skin cancer than the brown-skinned race but the blacks are not.
This is the climate here in the sub-Saharan region. Half of the year is dry. When its dry, it's literally dry. No rain whatsoever. Grasses die and trees deprived of leaves for the entire season. Dust is everywhere. This is the so-called summer of Mali.
Obviously, for us coming from the temperate zone this kind of environment is a punishment. But what brought us here is another story... I won't elaborate it for now, perhaps in the future.
This is my twelfth dry season here, nearing its end, yet, still counting. Only God knows when will I stop here.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
A Row in the Mess
Reservations is holding me back to write this story because I am afraid that people's impression on me might change. But I find the incident noteworthy so I am compelled to write this in my journal. Eventually this will be an effective tool in aiding me recall this segment of my life.
Two days ago a row happened between me and one of the food servers in our mess. The cause was so petty that it turned to fracas. It started this way, it was breakfast time, a few minutes past 5 AM, I surveyed the trays in array for healthful treat. I snobbed the oatmeal and its kin, the old time favorites, GMC's in boxes. Tired of looking around I settled on my usual breakfast--a bread roll thinly spread with butter, coffee and fried eggs. I prefer fried eggs over omelet because the whites are easy to separate from the yolk. Poached eggs are boring; it's gone in one gorge, breakfast consummated in 2 seconds, ha-ha. I come from a family of hypertensives so I have to be easy with the cholesterol-rich yellow of the egg. The genetic gift that I inherited manifested signs on me when I was 36 years of age. Since then I am careful with what I eat. But sometimes I stray heeding the call of my taste buds for some earthly delights, and so my story continues...
At the end of the counter, where the cooked eggs are to be collected, I saw bacons sizzling on the griddle. In hesitation I thought of having some. And then on the plate full of still raw bacons I saw some lean slices partly hidden under the heap of fatty ones; I decided to have some. Politely and struggling with my French I asked the server, a local guy, if I can have some of those lean slices. Straight away he frowned, shook his hairless head in negation and said in their local dialect that all the slices are the same, loaded with fat. Despite my explanation on how bad it is for the health he proceeded in cooking the fatty ones, as if I have no right to choose and we are at their mercy. My blood boiled with anger. How could an ugly and illiterate individual challenge my rights for what is good for me. I warned him that I am not going to eat what he cooked and I am going to report him to the management. This made him upset and the row started. The argument crescendoed into a shouting match of invectives. Not understanding with each other because my French is as bad as his'. I lost my composure and rational judgment that time. The kitchen staffs rushed out to quell the fight. The diners seated were looking at us in awe. It was really a scene. I only calmed down when I saw 2 guys waiting to be served at the counter watching us. I then instructed that ugly server to stop blabbering and go back to his work and serve the new comers.
Still livid and residues of the fight still milling in my mind, I forced myself to eat my breakfast. My coffee was too sweet for I was not counting anymore the number of teaspoons I put on it. I don't even remember how the bacon tasted. I was done in less than 3 minutes. What a way to start a day.
At work I became irritable. A mere raise of voice by other people agitates me as if courting for trouble. At the same time my emotions was ambivalent. I hated becoming belligerent. It's not my nature." What is wrong with me?", " Why am I acting like this?" These were the questions I asked myself.
Is this what they call mid-life crisis? Will I overcome this? If not, what will I be when I'm 70 or 80? A monster?
When I was young with emotions still fragile this incident is unimaginable to happen. I was never agressive in my life until lately. I had a commendable threshold of patience to be proud of. As I matured, my emotions had evolved into a stable and more defined one, and I became expressive with my feelings, some times no holds bar. But there is a big BUT about this. If I think I can dominate the person or situation then the agressive side of me comes out. But when I'm challenged with persons superior than me and those who I respect I tend to become meek like a helpless child. A case of a Jekyll and Hyde syndrome or in short, double standard . I don't know what to do about this.
Yesterday and this morning's breakfast the same local server was serving the food. I was watching him carefully with an eagle's eye for fear that he might do something at his vantage to make even with me. Who knows he might flavor my food with his spittle. I have done this before to someone I hated and I'm afraid it might come back to me.
With this story I don't know how people will react and judge me.
Two days ago a row happened between me and one of the food servers in our mess. The cause was so petty that it turned to fracas. It started this way, it was breakfast time, a few minutes past 5 AM, I surveyed the trays in array for healthful treat. I snobbed the oatmeal and its kin, the old time favorites, GMC's in boxes. Tired of looking around I settled on my usual breakfast--a bread roll thinly spread with butter, coffee and fried eggs. I prefer fried eggs over omelet because the whites are easy to separate from the yolk. Poached eggs are boring; it's gone in one gorge, breakfast consummated in 2 seconds, ha-ha. I come from a family of hypertensives so I have to be easy with the cholesterol-rich yellow of the egg. The genetic gift that I inherited manifested signs on me when I was 36 years of age. Since then I am careful with what I eat. But sometimes I stray heeding the call of my taste buds for some earthly delights, and so my story continues...
At the end of the counter, where the cooked eggs are to be collected, I saw bacons sizzling on the griddle. In hesitation I thought of having some. And then on the plate full of still raw bacons I saw some lean slices partly hidden under the heap of fatty ones; I decided to have some. Politely and struggling with my French I asked the server, a local guy, if I can have some of those lean slices. Straight away he frowned, shook his hairless head in negation and said in their local dialect that all the slices are the same, loaded with fat. Despite my explanation on how bad it is for the health he proceeded in cooking the fatty ones, as if I have no right to choose and we are at their mercy. My blood boiled with anger. How could an ugly and illiterate individual challenge my rights for what is good for me. I warned him that I am not going to eat what he cooked and I am going to report him to the management. This made him upset and the row started. The argument crescendoed into a shouting match of invectives. Not understanding with each other because my French is as bad as his'. I lost my composure and rational judgment that time. The kitchen staffs rushed out to quell the fight. The diners seated were looking at us in awe. It was really a scene. I only calmed down when I saw 2 guys waiting to be served at the counter watching us. I then instructed that ugly server to stop blabbering and go back to his work and serve the new comers.
Still livid and residues of the fight still milling in my mind, I forced myself to eat my breakfast. My coffee was too sweet for I was not counting anymore the number of teaspoons I put on it. I don't even remember how the bacon tasted. I was done in less than 3 minutes. What a way to start a day.
At work I became irritable. A mere raise of voice by other people agitates me as if courting for trouble. At the same time my emotions was ambivalent. I hated becoming belligerent. It's not my nature." What is wrong with me?", " Why am I acting like this?" These were the questions I asked myself.
Is this what they call mid-life crisis? Will I overcome this? If not, what will I be when I'm 70 or 80? A monster?
When I was young with emotions still fragile this incident is unimaginable to happen. I was never agressive in my life until lately. I had a commendable threshold of patience to be proud of. As I matured, my emotions had evolved into a stable and more defined one, and I became expressive with my feelings, some times no holds bar. But there is a big BUT about this. If I think I can dominate the person or situation then the agressive side of me comes out. But when I'm challenged with persons superior than me and those who I respect I tend to become meek like a helpless child. A case of a Jekyll and Hyde syndrome or in short, double standard . I don't know what to do about this.
Yesterday and this morning's breakfast the same local server was serving the food. I was watching him carefully with an eagle's eye for fear that he might do something at his vantage to make even with me. Who knows he might flavor my food with his spittle. I have done this before to someone I hated and I'm afraid it might come back to me.
With this story I don't know how people will react and judge me.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Weekend in Solitude
In the four corners of my room I spent another weekend in solitary confinement. There was an invitation to picnic near the dam that I turned down. The heat outside at 49 degrees centigrade was just too excruciating for me to enjoy. Besides, I had an appointment to call home at luchtime.
My day started with breakfast at 5 am. A cup of coffee, bread roll and fried eggs were enough to perk up my energy. No need to carbo load --- physical activity is zilch today.
In the environs of a cluttered desk my notebook lied. Next to the desk is the TV. I spent the day watching TV and at the same time browsed the net. I swicthed channels between National Geographic and MTV only, refraining from watching movies lest I stop net surfing. I read blogs and news and chatted. Read and wrote emails. Took quick naps in between activities whenever my eyes give in to drowsiness. My bed is just a hop away.
I gazed the ceiling and examined my conscience, making peace to myself and the world.
I didn't go to the canteen for lunch. In the room I simmered a cup of noodle soup and savored it with crackers. Supper at 5 pm was quite loaded with carbs, making up the measly lunch that I had.
Another weekend well rested in solitude. The whole experience was revitalizing as well as uplifted the spirit. Just love it.
Ahead will be another week of gruelling work.
My day started with breakfast at 5 am. A cup of coffee, bread roll and fried eggs were enough to perk up my energy. No need to carbo load --- physical activity is zilch today.
In the environs of a cluttered desk my notebook lied. Next to the desk is the TV. I spent the day watching TV and at the same time browsed the net. I swicthed channels between National Geographic and MTV only, refraining from watching movies lest I stop net surfing. I read blogs and news and chatted. Read and wrote emails. Took quick naps in between activities whenever my eyes give in to drowsiness. My bed is just a hop away.
I gazed the ceiling and examined my conscience, making peace to myself and the world.
I didn't go to the canteen for lunch. In the room I simmered a cup of noodle soup and savored it with crackers. Supper at 5 pm was quite loaded with carbs, making up the measly lunch that I had.
Another weekend well rested in solitude. The whole experience was revitalizing as well as uplifted the spirit. Just love it.
Ahead will be another week of gruelling work.
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