The Eye

It is, officially, the start of my annual leave. Several years of staying put in Hong Kong resulted to almost a month of holidays. And what better way to start the day than with a signal number 8 cyclone?

Alright, I’m overreacting. It’s just T3 as I stepped outside my building. There was a light drizzle but I decided not to buy another umbrella—a bad habit (buying, that is). I keep forgetting the umbrellas at school and I’m quite sure I have at least five waiting for me there. If I can keep my composure while walking in the rain, I’ll make it to school only slightly wet.

It is my first day off on my annual leave and I’m heading to school. Each step on a puddle got me irritated not because of my wet sneakers but because of why I have to go to school in the first place. In a nutshell: three months of unpaid salary, and I’ve come to collect. I just hope the supervisor checked the weather. A cyclone is headed his way.

The rain strengthened just as I arrived at the school. All the other teachers were there. Most of them anyway and the ones who were there have filed their resignations. Three teachers and two staff will be leaving the school. It only shows the degree of mismanagement of the so-called ‘super’visor. Why I’m still with them is a long story that you will not hear today.

The super and his sidekick (we lovingly call ‘the rat’), arrived an hour or so later. I just stared at them. They obviously know why I’m there. I have sent a demand letter, sent an email, attached the same letter, and sent a follow-up in a span of three days.

They dodged me, pretending to attend to other matters. To be fair, the other matters did matter. I waited patiently. Two hours later, the super sat beside me. Took a deep breath and said “I received your email.” The rain outside increased, I’m boiling up inside. I am the eye of this storm. “We are working hard on it,” he added.

After that, I let out a rant that might have been out of place if I had no claim to anything. At one point, the rat said that I should write to members of the organization to ask for my salary. I told him that I have never been in a workplace where employees sourced out their own salaries! In a sense, I told him to do his job.

When all has been said and done, the rain calmed down. I’ve accepted the incompetence of my supervisor and it is perhaps my fault why I am still in the school. I walked out of the school empty handed and only with a false sense of hope that everything will be fine. When I got home and typhoon signal 8 was hoisted. This is indeed a sign of better things to come.

342: Board to Death

Cut, paste, trace, snip, punch, pin, lace, dot.  A week before classes start, teachers are expected to be at their craftiest.  Where's my fairy godmother when I need her?

Decorating a classroom has never been my strongest point but this year, I'm determined to give it my best.  The newly painted 5th grade room is giving me positive energy.

It's no secret that P5 classroom has a ghost or two.  I haven't seen one but I can vouche for eight-legged freaks on a daily basis.  But all these bad press need to go away and the only way to do that is reclaim the cool.  My new tenants will be proud of their classroom come September.

I snapped a couple of photos from my progress so far.  I'll post more pictures of the rest of my boards soon.  I'm all tapped out, to be honest so I'll end this post before I use up the last drops of my creative juices.

Quick Question of the day: Any suggestion for a classroom bulletin board? 

Leave your comments to this post or your creative responses to the QQ by clicking on the orange number beside the post title. Click on Like if you enjoyed reading, Share on Facebook if you think it's a good read.

349: The Teacher is In

11:00 AM and I'm still in bed waiting for my excuse to reply.  I was supposed to go back to work today and I didn't feel like it.  I texted two people to set up a meet but it didn't happen.  11:30 and I'm in the shower.

I didn't want to be late on my first day back to work after a long holiday.  I had to be in school at noon.  Out the door at 11:50, the short walk to school should take me 10 minutes.  A quick trip to Circle K and after munching on the way, I arrived at 12:15 PM.  

"Why are you here?  Didn't you file your leave for until tomorrow?" the principal said as soon as I entered the office.

I smiled but no words can describe the self-induced brain slam inside of me.  The teacher is in and in too early. Damn it.

I made the most of the afternoon doing what they call "the other stuff teachers have to do"--prepping the classroom and making it beautiful.

Somehow, I was in the mood to work today so I got to it without grunts.  By 4:00 PM I already had the Birthdays board and the Cleaners board done.

Lesson learned and a word to the wise, it takes but a minute to recall your leave schedule.

Quick Question of the day: What's your latest blooper?

Leave your comments to this post or your creative responses to the QQ by clicking on the orange number beside the post title. Click on Like if you enjoyed reading, Share on Facebook if you think it's a good read.

354: The Crescent Resurfaces

I was on the bus reading my horoscope.  It said that I should spend time with friends.  Incidentally I was on my way to meet Van.  It also said to take a gander at the moon and see a waxing crescent with a bright Venus beside it.  I looked out the bus window and sure enough, it was there--the sign of better things to come.

Almost the same scene I saw tonight.

I'm probably a Muslim deep inside because the moon's crescent has always mystified me.  Tonight it sat there on a blue-orange sunset sky.  For a moment I wondered if the Dreamworks boy was fishing for stars.  It was a good night to begin with because a friend called me up and we explored the possibility of a new job.  It got even more special when I saw the beautiful moon.  

I was excited to meet Van in Sham Shui Po to tell him of the most exciting news I have ever received since I moved to the new place.  These recent events have been pushing me to a decision that I didn't want to make until next year.

Van and I discussed our angst as usual.  We reached Mong Kok later in the evening and found a small Japanese restaurant.  No tourists, finally.  We continued our rants, alternating between miso, office talk, tonkatsu (not very Muslim then), dumplings and the mismatched couple seated beside us.  When I arrived home, what greeted me was basically the last straw.

I keep hanging on to hope and good intentions with my present job because my mom helped build the organization.  I even helped in the process when the organization opened the school.  Most of the school policies and materials like student handbook, grading system, etc., were patterned after my alma mater, University of St. La Salle Integrated School.  But lately, with this new management, I feel that I am not being treated fairly.

I hoped that Van and I would each get a room when we were asked to move.  It didn't happen.  Next, I hoped that we'd at least get a decent bunk bed to appease us.  It didn't happen either.  And that's what greeted me when I walked into the flat--a chunk of flimsy metal and two foams just over an inch thick. 

I wanted to send a text message right away to express my disappointment.  But I controlled myself.  I will not give them that privilege of knowing that I'm in a rut.  

I'm going for broke because I have self-worth and I won't allow people to treat me like they own me.  In other words, I'm leaving soon.  The crescent resurfaced to mark the coming change in my life.
  
Quick Question of the day: Does having a comfortable living space count when looking for a job (overseas) or is it a sacrifice one has to make?

Leave your comments to this post or your creative responses to the QQ by clicking on the orange number beside the post title. Click on Like if you enjoyed reading, Share on Facebook if you think it's a good read.

356: Holiday

I have just gotten out of the bathroom when I received a text message from my boss.  He wanted me to fax my plane ticket as soon as possible.

Two weeks ago, just right after my visa extension was granted, I applied for my annual leave.  I also got my salary in advance because I "needed it to buy a plane ticket to the Philippines."  It might have been a lie.  But I'm entitled to my annual leave and my salary anyway and where I'm headed or how I spend my money is none of my boss' business.

That's why I wasn't so sure if I'm going to be happy with the text message or be pissed off.  I texted him back that I decided not to go home but I'm still taking the leave as requested and as approved.

                          (Thought I'd get in the mood for my summer Holiday)

Tonight, I was walking around town trying to find something to do.  On my way home I realized that if I'm not going anywhere for almost a week, I'll probably dry up and turn into stone.  I've decided to watch a movie tomorrow, but after that, I'm done.  I'll probably be busy during the evenings but a whole day of nothing seems such a waste of time.  Already, you can see how empty this post is because of an uneventful day.

Quick Question of the day: What's a good activity for my summer holiday?

Leave your comments to this post or your creative responses to the QQ by clicking on the orange number beside the post title. Click on Like if you enjoyed reading, Share on Facebook if you think it's a good read.

362: Not Acting on It

The Summer Performing Arts Creative Experience (SPACE) class has gone from eight students to six.  To set the mood, I began playing "The Entertainer" on the piano.  The day's lesson: pantomime.  With all that's been happening lately, theater class seems to be a good distraction.

After playing some improv exercises, we divided the class into two groups and each group prepared a short pantomime skit.  The children gave surprising performances, especially the older boys who would usually find the class boring or corny.  As expected from the exercise, they performed it in silence, which was quite amazing given the time crunch and the action-packed material.

I felt good going into the office when the class ended, only to be brought back to reality.  "The van will pick up your things Saturday morning," The Man said.  I felt like breaking things.  I smiled and asked if we could take the afternoon off to prepare. 


From the time we stepped out of the door to lunch to the commute until we got home, Van and I discussed at length our disappointments, plans and angst about the move to a new flat.  I have learned to understand Van's way, that talking is good.  I made the mistake yesterday when I told him that I was tired of hearing about the negativity.  But the truth is, if we're not talking about it, we'll probably lose our heads.  I do have an advantage because I can vent out through my blog.  But today, I was prepared to listen and, more importantly, I was prepared to talk.

In a way, my day was at opposite ends starting it with an almost completely quiet morning with the pantomime activity and ending it with a rather talky afternoon.  The common theme though was SPACE.

When we got home, I collapsed in bed and Van went online.  The packing can wait, or we just didn't feel like it.  I can't act on something when I just don't feel like doing it.

As I write this, Van is venting out in the only other way that he can--singing.  "Please Don't Ask Me" is his first song so I guess I'll stay out of his way the rest of the evening. 

Quick Question for the day: How do you vent out?
Leave your comments to this post or your creative responses to the QQ by clicking on the orange number beside the post title.  Click on Like if you enjoyed reading, Share on Facebook if you think it's a good read. 

363: No Bull, It's Buses and Trains

"Taurus:  Your emotions are even-keeled today, which helps regulate your energy.  Take some time for R&R.  You've got a new phase of life ahead of you and the next four weeks will be busy!"  Hours after reading my horoscope, a phone call at the office:  "You must leave your flat and transfer to the staff quarters before Monday."

I've never been lucky with accommodations.  The last job I had in Qatar, I had to suffer six months living with the most obnoxious roomies you can imagine.  Eventually, I got the room for myself, which was not exactly a five-star hotel suite.  A room without windows is a closet in my book.  Nevertheless, I have learned to love it, mice infestation and all.

Fast forward to Hong Kong, now.  It's happening again.  No bull, this is real.  I'm moving in three days.  Pack two years' worth of accumulated bachelor junk and move in three days.  Justice is not in this city apparently.  It's not that I haven't seen it coming.  Regardless of the eerily accurate horoscope, I knew I'd have to move within this month.  But, three days?

I suppose I can enumerate the pros of the move:

• A villa flat is more spacious than our minimalist studio-type flat.
• Facilities: Air-conditioning, better cable TV! A fully functioning kitchen, bigger bathroom, spacious living room.
• No more long commutes to school as it is within walking distance.
• The scene: trees, a bicycle path and a porch.

Now let's see if the cons outweigh the pros:

• I don't mind being with my best friend 24/7, but with two other teachers? That's a big one.
• Privacy.  No more walking around in my undies!
• Four people vs one bathroom.  I hate lines.
• I'm sharing a small room!  I was expecting Van and I would each get a room.
• Sharing.  This is going to take a while to master.  From bills to food to chores.
• Faked absences.  With the principal in the same flat, good luck booking dates.
• Vices.  Hide it or leave it out in the open?
• Perfect Vicinity!  No more five minute walk to the mall, park or beach.  
• No more LRT.  With the LRT station right across my building, I can go to any place in Hong Kong effortlessly through connecting trains and buses.  Or buses and trains.  

Cue totally random intermission:

I guess Van was right.  It's a tough deal.  I say, give us each a room and we'll be happy face during our first few months.  And as for the horoscope seers, you've been accurate, you've proven that but please, give me a reading I can actually look forward to.

Quick Question for the day:  What's your worst moving experience?
(Leave your comments or creative responses for the QQ by clicking on the orange number beside the post title.) 

365: A Vow

I asked for a sign on my trip to the immigration office. A white dove. Naturally, the whole 45 minutes on the upper deck of the bus, I was wide-eyed, on the lookout for a bird that was probably busy doing a day job in a wedding chapel somewhere.

The first trip hit a snag which could have been avoided if Dodeng Daga simply trusted my visa-processing skills. I have done this twice, after all. When the immigration officer interviewed me, I was a syllable away from being called stupid because of the inconsistent document that I gave them. Said document was the genius plan of Dodeng Daga who, while not really a rat, certainly resembles and thinks like the vermin.

I was given an appointment schedule for the 29th of July, just a couple of days before my visa expires. Surely it was not the sign I was hoping for. The walk out of the immigration office was a long one. I felt lost and rejected even though there hasn't been a decision yet. Still, a landslide of questions were upon me. I dodged the people passing by like a ball in a pinball machine. Each time I hit a passerby, BING!--a thought, ZING!--an idea, TOINK!--a worry. What if I won't be extended? What if I had to leave within two days? What if I can't find another job soon enough? Where should I go next?

With all those thoughts running through my brain, I didn't notice an old friend approach my side. It was Adam. Perfect. I needed a hug. He said two words: "hello" and "wait". He traded me for a phone call so, after ten minutes, I waved goodbye and grabbed some comfort food at 7-11.

By then the afternoon was just making everyone in Wan Chai sticky, irritable and thirsty. I wasn't spared of course as I itched to get on the bus. I savored the trip back home thinking it might be one of the last long bus rides I'll ever have in Hong Kong.

When I got home I can only think of one relief--a shower. And there in my small bathroom, the sign has been sitting there all along. A new bar of white Dove soap. I know we tend to force patterns and meanings into our lives but whether or not it's the sign that I was looking for, it was just what I needed at that moment. I soaped away the sweat, washed away the tears and relieved my tired spirit.

A week later and with a renewed sense of hope, I headed back to the immigration and got my visa for another year.

I had promised a few things to that imaginary dove. And keeping this blog up and running again for at least another year was just one of them. Let the countdown begin.

(Hit the orange number beside the title of this post to comment.)