promdi

Spent my childhood running up and down grassy hills; building make-believe empires with playmates in the woods where we put up our castles out of bamboos, banana leaves, and gmelina trunks; playing Tarzan by swinging on young banana leaves we sweated to hook pole and  had to hotfoot every time an elderly with a bolo arrived ; fishing with Father from dawn to twilight, one thing i consider the most thrilling kiddie task; raiding  the towering fruit bearing trees--mango, lolly fruit, pomelo, among others, despite the unfriendly army ants that were always ready to trigger war; building soil castles in the midst of the just ploughed cornfields; filling my pockets with a handful catch of crickets; lying on bed of carabao grass under the bright moon and sharing stories with friends about ghosts, cyborgs, and monsters. I indeed had a childhood not every child in the metropolitan have or had.

But were my high school days as fun? Not fun at all. Going to high school meant CHANGES. A threshold to maturity the old people say. And maturity demanded a great deal of change. No more fabricated stories under the huge moon; no more make-believe empires and dilapidated castles; no more ransacking fruits up towering trees; no more soil castles in cornfields; no more pocketing crickets; and many more "no mores." There were only more midnight candles to burn; more new stuffs to learn; more people to acquaint with; more money to spend. But thanks goodness the changes in the environment were not as many. I could still see trees with their tempting fruits but preferred not to climb them and stoned them instead. I could still see fishes playing in the clear waters of Cagayan River but preferred to buy them instead to catch them myself. I learned to prefer doing tasks that I found boring during my grade school days. Did growing up mean getting lazy? That's the funniest question I had in mind. Because at the back of my mind i knew it wasn't. Because I had to do my laundry on Fridays; because i had to prepare my daily meals; because I had to press my uniforms before going to bed at night; because I had to clean my room; and so on and on. And all these I had to do all by myself. 

When i went to college i realized that high school was a training ground for a more challenging world. College life was more demanding and could drain off the best of me. But thanks Almighty for giving me the dose of determination i needed to beat the odds. I finished my degree and now I earn my own bucks. See? It wasn't easy getting to where i am now. Oh, dears I am no big fish yet. I' am just an average waging office man. Well it’s the least I can get through so far. Hmmm, how about getting to an executive position? Never mind. Put all seriousness aside and rather reminisce on the ludicrous sides of changes I've had as once a rural seed to an office sprout in the extremely perplexing Metro Manila.

THE ARRIVAL

Was still coiled in my favorite blanket when the bus had the final stop. I could hear voices and movements but ignored them and gave way to my braying heavy eyelids. That's because I thought it was only one of the several stop-overs. Of course I was embarrassed when the driver's apprentice caustically said "Cubao na boy."  I concealed the red face with a smile, fixed myself, gathered my stuffs and disembarked. I was welcomed by the honking of buses, by the hoot-hoot of the metro rail transit, the unfriendly smog, and by the culled human sounds--of passengers, mongers, bystanders, vendors, drivers, children, to name a few. I couldn't figure out how much more noise my hometown market had to produce to equate the noise in the terminal. And that scenario was just the first of the turn-offs that almost sent me back to my hometown. I thought I would rather endure the scorching heat of the sun, till the cornfields, have as early as seven o’clock goodnight sleep, and say hello to every crowing rooster in the neighborhood at dawn. But optimism dominated my seemingly succumbing drive. The moment my fetchers arrived, we waved for a cab and my urban adventure began.

THE JOB HUNT

It took me weeks to land a first professional job. I braved to apply for a teaching position in a language center and was on cloud nine when the hiring manager announced the good news. And the rain poured heavier because aside from my classroom classes, I was also given loads for the night shift as online EFL teacher. I also got home tutorials and the school was mere on-foot away from my boarding house. It was an awesome start for a career I thought.

Beforehand, I remember myself exploring the very unfamiliar Ortigas Center, traversing every street and submitting copies of my “JOB EXPERIENCE” deficient resume in every office I knew. That day I met a slender woman in her early thirties. Have you been compelled to listen to strangers talk on how they gained wealth by selling these and those products? I was awed by the speakers’ skills but was upset by the fact that I couldn’t grasp on any rope of the business and yet was there enduring the boredom. But again, I chose to be polite and didn’t run until all speakers were done with their novel-like talks. Only, the day ended with kilometric SIGHS on my part. It was a traumatic experience. I felt abducted.  Lesson learned: Do not talk to aliens. 

The next day was positive in all aspects. I had a good sleep despite the abduction; woke up healthy and just felt fully charged; had a hearty tocino breakfast; and loved my new coif, which I would never want to wear “ever” again.  Sandwiched a copy of Manila Bulletin want ads in my armpit and off from our studio-type flat in a jovial mood. I took the northbound bus and glued my eyes alternately left and right to spot the building mentioned by the ad. And when I saw it I felt a sudden feeling of uncertainty. Must be because of the looks of the building I assumed. Still, I alighted from the bus photocopied a copy of my resume and looked for the office of my future employer. I was surprised to see many other applicants, majority of whom, attired in corporate and looked young. They were seated in rows and occupied filling out forms. The feeling of uncertainty I had in the bus was replaced by eagerness. I surreptitiously made a sign of the cross and entered the room directed by the not-so-pretty lady concierge wearing heavy make-up. There I was given a test that reminded me of high school quizzes provided by lazy teachers. That is to say, the test was peanut so I finished it with overflowing confidence. And I was not surprised to know that I made it. I wasn’t even proud. Goodness! My grade six niece could answer those questions with not a droplet of sweat! But I couldn’t claim a bragging right, because if I was indeed smart, I wouldn’t be duped. But I was D-U-P-E-D!

Here’s how:

                HR Assistant: Congratulations! You passed the exam.

                Me: Really? I didn’t expect that!

                My Alter Ego: Liar Romeo!

                HR Assistant: You got a pretty high score.

                My Alter Ego: Sure I did. It was a grade-schooler’s stuff moron!

                Me: So what’s next?

                HR Assistant: Are you gonna pay seven hundred pesos now?

                Me: Seven hundred pesos? What for?

                HR Assistant: We need the amount to process your papers.

                Me: Hey Alter Ego, what am I gonna do now?

                Alter Ego: zzzzzzzzzzzzz…

                HR: Are you paying now? You can come back tomorrow if you don’t have the cash yet.

                Me: Hey Alter Ego! What now?!

                Alter Ego: zzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

                Me: Okay, Will pay now.

                HR Assistant: Alright, wait for a call and show this stub when you come back.

I dragged my numbing feet out of the room with the stub on my hand. My brain was floating. Yeah, still had brains those moments, i wouldn't be out of the room if I didn't.  Weeks passed and I never got a call. My housemates were right when they said I was scammed. I didn’t even waste more time running after my seven hundred pesos. Honestly, all I could do was curse that damn company. Not because of the money but because of the marred reputation of my vigilance. And my tongue was formidable. A month or so after, the company was raided by the Quezon City Police. Thanks to ABS-CBN’s XXX.

THE SERIES OF HILARIOUS EVENTS

It was a Sunday, around three in the afternoon. Took a jeepney to Shangri-la Mall to see a dear friend. (to be continued)