First Year in Germany

I'm not exactly proud of this, but I've reached a new record today. This text that you're reading right now took a year to write! Actually, it took a day, but I've been meaning to write it since last year, but I was either too busy, too tired, or too lazy to do so. The mañana habit at work. Or mañaño habit in my case. I decided to sit down and write this for two reasons. First, because I was sick and couldn't do anything else. Second, because today I'm celebrating my first year anniversary of living in Germany! I can't believe it's been a year. On one hand, I feel like I just got here and still know so little about this country. On the other hand, I've gone through so many experiences, it's like I've been living here for a decade already. I can't explain it.

A year ago from today, I arrived in Strasbourg Airport, where a friend picked me up and brought me straight to my dormitory in Freiburg. It was an exciting day. I felt like a kid with new shoes! I couldn't stand or sit still that day, and despite my jet lag, couldn't fall asleep easily that night. Not a lot of people are given the chance to start anew, to "recompile" their life so to speak (I'm such a geek!). It's an opportunity I didn't want to waste.The first two weeks, I just did administration- and matriculation-related stuff. It was my first experience with German bureaucracy. Before I could enroll, I had to prove that I was insured. Before I could get health insurance, I had to open a bank account from which the insurance company could deduct the fees every month automatically. Before I could open an account at a bank, I had to prove that I lived in Freiburg. To prove that I lived in Freiburg, I had to register with the city. To register, I had to show the city officials my rental contract, which I had to pick up from a university office handling all dormitory matters (a.k.a. the Studentenwerk). To be allowed to live in the dorms though, I had to prove I was enrolled at the university, which meant I had to get insurance, a bank account, city residence permit, and yadayadayada. OK, so where the heck could I start??? Fortunately, there was a way to insert oneself into this endless loop. The university acceptance letter is enough evidence of my intention to enroll, so I could sign a rental contract with this document alone. However, after I'd enrolled and everything, I still had to send my proof of enrollment to the Studentenwerk, to prove that I just didn't trick them into thinking I wanted to enrol at the university so I could get cheap accommodations. Smart, huh? There's no fooling the system!

Between breaks or when I didn't make it to an office before closing time, I just cycled around the city. Freiburg is one of Germany's greenest cities, and here, cycling is encouraged. There are bike lanes everywhere, and one can get to any point of the city from the center in half an hour, without having to go uphill. I love biking. It gives me a sense of freedom that I don't get from driving a car. I can weave through traffic easily, can get to places where cars can't go, and don't have to worry about parking and the price of gasoline. Sometimes I biked in the Black Forest (home of the Black Forest cake). It was only 10 minutes away from my dorm. I don't know why they call it the Black Forest, but I like the name -- sounds magical. And the breathtaking views from there could easily cast a spell on anyone. When I went there, I particularly loved going downhill as fast as I could, with the sound of cracking dried leaves and stone rubbing against stone before me, wind blowing against my face, and behind me a trail of pebbles bouncing gently down the slope. It was exhilarating! Definitely an "I'm the King of the World!" moment.

Classes started in the middle of October. I took only three Computer Science subjects, so I could better acclimate to the student life after being a non-student for eight years. It turned out to be a great decision. Those three subjects were enough to almost make me throw the towel. I had to relearn Vector Math, NP Completeness, Linear Programming, and Recurrence Equations. I had to study things like Voronoi Diagrams and Delaunay Triangulations, KD Trees, and Support Vector Machines. I had nightmares about my Genetic Algorithms maliciously inverting values in my Priority Search Trees. Aside from CS courses, I also took a German language course (Tuesday and Thursday evenings), and on Wednesday nights, I played guitar and recorder in a Taizé prayer meeting. I had a full schedule, with almost every waking moment spent studying, preparing for, or doing something. The following semester, I took five CS subjects (plus German, Taizé, and Salsa). These five were not as hard as the three in the previous semester, but I had a lot more to do. I'm not done with the semester actually. I have one more exam to do on the10th of October. Then the next semester begins on the 24th.

So far, I've been army crawling my way through this AppliedComputer Science program. It's been a struggle. Despite the name, we study more theory than applied things in this program, and our professors, all of them, have at least one PhD degree, and they all have this theoretical bias. Eight years of industry experience had made me more practical, but at the same time took away my ability to digest theoretical concepts. I do have a legitimate complaint: I have this feeling that they're shaping us to become future PhD students. I wonder how many of my professors have actually worked outside the academe and know what is expected of us by the industry. Oh well. I applied to this program to learn about various fields of IT that I never got to touch during my years working as an SAP Basis Administrator. I wanted to know what else is out there, so I'd have an idea what to get into after my program. I am getting this exposure now, so all is not for naught.

My life outside the university is definitely much more interesting, though not always easier. Most of the hardships stem from my inability to express myself fluently in German. I haven't gotten myself into trouble yet, but I've said embarrassing things that to this day my dorm mates still use to poke fun at me. The default language at home is German, with English as an emergency backup language (but with no guarantees that the others will understand). During the first semester, I made the mistake of relying too much on this backup language, so my German hardly improved. The following semester, I made a point to use English less. I even ended up promising to speak only German in our dorm starting August. When I couldn't say something in German, I just did Charades. I did pretty good, but pantomiming has inherent limitations. How do you do things like "money order" and "cashier's check"? Or "package delivery confirmation receipt"? I thought "tone dialing" was simple, but after charading it out with all my might in front of a dorm mate, she still didn't understand. It took maybe half an hour to explain the concept of "collect call", but after getting my question across, another dorm mate told me he didn't know how to make such calls. Anyway, for hopeless cases, I had to do research on my own, by checking Internet resources or making phone calls to a bunch of people. I found out that there's no such thing as money order in Germany, that cashier's checks exist but cost a whopping 14 € per check, that delivery confirmation receipt service is available at the post office, that our phone at home is simply not capable of tone dialing, and that I had to call AT&T, MCI, or Sprint, not Deutsche Telekom, to place a collect call. (By the way, it's shocking that DT's employees don't know what collect calls are). There are, however, some non-language-related annoyances that happen here that simply defy explanation. One glaring example is their debit card system. My bank gave me a debit card (a.k.a. EC Karte) which I could use in all establishments that show the logo. The debit card works either like an ATM card (e.g. you punch in your PIN to authorize the transaction) or like a credit card (e.g. you sign a receipt). But the EC Karte they gave me did not have a signature line at the back, so establishments that use the signature system don't accept my card. I went to my bank and asked for a debit card with a signature line, but they refused to give me one because money didn't regularly "flow" into my account, because I deposited money into my German bank account on an as-needed basis. Why on earth money had to regularly flow into my account so I could be given that signature line, I have no idea. They offered no answer when I asked. I'm very tempted now to just paste a piece of paper at the back of my card and sign it. By the way, very few establishments here accept credit cards. Even big supermarkets, restaurants, and electronic stores don'taccept them. They're probably just trying to avoid the fees imposed by the credit card companies, so they could keep the prices low for their customers. But despite this, prices are not exactly cheap here. I also had to get used to the fact that almost nothing's for free here. You pay for water in almost all restaurants, even for Leitungswasser (tap water). You pay to use the toilet, even in some restaurants. There are hotels/hostels where you have to pay to use the shower. You pay for plastic bags in the supermarket. You pay to call the customer service hotline of a company whose product you want to buy. You pay when you call your neighbor (no such thing as local flat rate phone service). You pay for your bank accounts. You pay to get to use a credit card (admittedly not a new concept in the Philippines and USA, but you don't get any points or benefits from using most credit cards here). You pay to use a television (this is not a cable fee, but sort of a TV tax to support the almost-commercial-free public channels). And so on. The only thing I can think of that's free here is air: air that you breathe, and air you put in your bike or car tires. I wouldn't be surprised though if they would start charging for this at some point.

Germany is world-renowned for its beers. The sheer variety is enough to convince anyone that this is a beer-obsessed country. Practically all towns have their special kind of beer, perhaps served in its own special glass and drunk in its own special way. However, Germany is not world-renowned for its fun parties, and for good reasons. The concept of a "party" here is that people go to a place, sit around, and drink world-renowned beer the whole time. No activities or games, no hosts, no singing or dancing. I admit I'm not the one to talk, since I'm not exactly a party animal or the life of the party back home, but I find this way of partying simply ho-hum. And I don't particularly enjoy most beer. I also noticed something about the people in parties here, but a bit on the history of Germany first. Before the country existed, there were just villages here, and the people in one village didn't have much to do with the people in the other villages. Most people in parties behave like these village people. The people who already know each other tend to just stay within their group and not deal with others. It takes a lot[1] of beer before any interclique communication can transpire.

I'm starting to sound like there's nothing good to be found in this country. On the contrary. Punctuality,for instance, is woven into the fabric of their society. Trains and buses generally arrive on time. I never waste time waiting at the train stops now, because when I know my train comes at11:53, then I leave the house at11:50, and by the time I get to the station, the train is there. People are also generally on time. When you tell people dinner or the party starts at 8, people show up at 8. You know exactly when to finish cooking or when to heat things up, or when to take things out of the fridge. Another good thing (this is debatable though) is that the German society is sandwiched between two nets. One net at the bottom is Germany's very generous social security system[2], which means Germans can never fall so low in life that they are forced to live like rats in the streets. The other net at the top is the high taxes which discourage them from being too money-oriented and greedy, knowing that the more money they earn, the more money they"lose" to the government. Germans then tend to focus more on quality of life and their environment, than on the irrational and pointless acquisition of wealth. Speaking of environment, Germans are also known for being environment-conscious and responsible. People turn off lights when not in use, and don't let water run continuously when washing dishes. They're very mindful of sorting their trash for recycling[3]. And although they are not known for being friendly, I find that they are more willing to help somebody in need, even if it means they have to get out of their way and suffer some inconvenience. Let's also not forget the fact that I'm studying here in Germany tuition-free[4], even though I'm a foreigner. Given the opportunity, I would probably stay in Germany after I graduate.

I know I've written a lot already, but I'm barely scratching the surface of what's life like in this country. It's been a wonderful experience so far. It's not easy, but it's definitely not boring. I'm getting exactly what I signed up for.

Take care you all.

Till next time.

---------------
[1] For Germans, "a lot" means more than 5 or 6 bottles. They seem to have a special enzyme in their stomach that's good for digesting beer. Similar to what cows have for digesting grass.
[2] Some say Germany's social security system is too generous, and in this day and age, unrealistic and unsupportable, hence the Hartz IV Reforms.
[3] There's a serious flaw in their bottle recycling program. When you buy Coke from a supermarket for example, you can onlybring the bottle back to the same supermarket you bought it from for redemption. The other supermarkets won't accept the bottle.Why this is so also, I have no idea.
[4] A Studiengebühr (student fee) of 500 € per semester might be introduced in Baden-Württemberg and in other German states starting the Fall Semester of 2007 (or one or two semesters before or after). However, this is still being discussed, and how this will be implemented is still not clear.

Independence Day 2003 in Boston

I got so sun-burned from the Independence Day Celebration I looked like an American hotdog!

Some interns from my company, my friends from the area, and I went to see the Fourth of July celebrations in Boston. Since I live closest to the city, I volunteered to go there very early to save a spot. I marched there at 10 AM, carrying beach blankets, ice water, two folding chairs, and an extremely heavy rucksack full of food, games, reading material, and my company laptop (I was on-call so I had to bring my laptop everywhere). I tried to get in to the Esplanade where the Boston Pops would be performing, but there was a checkpoint and the guards went through all bags and coolers for concealed weapons and alcohol. They found my concealed weapon (a tiny swiss knife keychain) and turned me away. I didn't see the point in arguing with them so I just went towards the Charles River and set up camp between two trees at a corner street. It was actually a great spot, right in front of a dock and in the middle of all the action. I sat there and read my traditional Chinese medicine books and occasionally volunteered to take the photographs of tourists. The interns (two Bavarians, one Romanian, one Mexican, and one Swiss-Canadian) arrived at 2PM and gave me something to eat: Wienerla or Wienerle (the Bavarians argued about the pronounciation of this), Lyona, and Knackwurst. They brought beer to the park (verboten!) but they hid it in a paper bag. When they felt the urge to drink, they poured the beer into innocent-looking cups and mixed some Sprite with it to make Radler. Then we just sat there and played some games. I taught them some fun card games I used to play in college, and while we were playing, the Romanian "got the urge" and tried to make Radler, but the cops saw him! The paper bag technique wasn't so smart after all. The cops made him throw away his cup of Radler, and all the beer hidden in the paper bag. He was actually lucky they didn't arrest him. Anyway, that kinda spoiled the fun, and the worst thing was, the trash can was just in front of us, so it was torture that our beer was just sitting there and not being drunk. We continued playing, and a few minutes later, two homeless people wandered around, looked into the trash can, and found our beer. They were so excited by the find, the two of them almost got into a fistfight! So funny!

Another Mexican and her German boyfriend came later, and brought a bag of ice which we desperately needed by that time because it was wicked hot. We played some more games. Then my Japanese friends called and asked what I was doing, and I told them I was in the city waiting for the celebrations and I invited them to come over since I reserved space anyway. They came and brought more ice and some Japanese food -- sushi!!! But no raw fish though. Just breaded shrimp and breaded chicken sushi. It was delicious nevertheless. They brought enough for everybody, and the interns were introduced to Japanese culinary arts and found them good too. Oishi!!!

We played a few more games until the concert started at 8:30 PM. We couldn't see anything from where we sat, but we could hear everything. The Boston Pops were wonderful as usual. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir was there too, about 300 people strong, and sang so wonderfully. There's this Soprano who opened the celebrations by singing the U.S. National Anthem. She was fantastic, especially when she improvised and hit that superhigh note, and everybody clapped in amazement! LeeAnn Rimes was there too, and performed some of her hit songs, like "How Do I Live" (... how do I live without you... i want to know... how do i ever, ever surViIiIiIiIiVE...). She was great too! Then the Boston Pops performed the traditional 1812 Overture by Tschaikowsky complete with booming cannons, to everyone's delight.

The fireworks began promptly at 10:30PM. The tree that shielded us from the hot sun now blocked our view of the fireworks, so we transferred and watched the display a few meters from where we camped. The Mexican sat in front of her German boyfriend, with her head resting on his shoulders, and his hands wrapped around her in an embrace. I couldn't see the others from where we were. We sat there for about half an hour, just looking at the sky. It was beautiful. You could see the faces of the children light up as the rockets exploded into a myriad of colors and painted the dark, cloudless sky for a few seconds. It's funny how at night, under the cover of darkness, everybody looks the same, be they black, white, or anything in between, be they male or female, young or old, Muslims or Christians, multinational CEOs or homeless people. We were all just people huddled together, watching the same spectacle, listening to the same music and exploding rockets, breathing and feeling the same cool air. For a brief moment, I felt at peace with the world.

After the fireworks, we reconvened at our original campsite and said goodbye to each other. We realized there was not a single American in our group! My Japanese friends walked towards the Charles/MGH station. The Mexican and German walked towards Park Street. The rest of us walked towards Government Center. I took the Haymarket Orange Line towards Medford, while the others rode the Blue Line to Wonderland where they parked. I arrived at home 30 minutes past midnight, took a much needed shower then went to sleep.

It was a very nice day and I'm glad I went. That was actually my first time to see the Fourth of July celebrations in Boston, even though I've been living in the area for several years now. Funny how I always take the things around me for granted.

That is all. Have a peaceful day wherever you may be.

Why Sometimes I Don't Like To Travel: The Philadelphia Case

My Philadelphia trip reminded me of why I sometimes don't like to travel.  I do like to be in new places, it's just that I dread the trip, for many reasons.  By some ironic twist of fate, most of these fears of mine happened in this particular one.

One of the things I dread is a canceled flight.  It screws so many things up, especially if you have connecting flights.  And I never know what to do and how to react.  Well, this one happened on my way to Philadelphia.  It was a nice and clear day in Boston that Sunday, but apparently not so in Philly, at least not between 5 and 6PM  There were two Philly-bound flights that got canceled that afternoon, and one happened to be mine! Lucky for me, Philly was my final destination.  But then I was supposed to meet a friend at the airport at 6PM.  Obviously we didn't get to meet.  The good thing was I was able to call her before she left her place.  The bad thing was she already scheduled her airport service to pick her up two hours before she normally leaves, just so we could meet.  My flight cancellation ruined her schedule as well.

Another thing I dread is driving in places I've never been before. I knew beforehand that I'd be doing this because the training center I'd be going to was in the middle of nowhere with no public transportation nearby.  So I prepared a few days before the trip by printing out detailed maps of every street I'd be driving on.  However, I didn't realize that maps are good only if one can read them and if there are street signs to follow.  Since my flight got delayed, I got to National Car Rental past 8:30PM.  It was dark, cold, and raining heavily.  I even picked the wrong size car, but that's another story.  With one eye on the street and the other eye reading my maps, I tried to navigate but I kept missing my exits because I couldn't see the signs early enough, and I even got myself lost in a scary run-down portion of Philadelphia.  After about an hour of driving, I finally got myself back on a major highway and miraculously reached my hotel.  I checked in at around 9:30PM and when I read my maps again, I saw that the hotel was only 4 miles away from the airport!!!

Speaking of hotels, I used to like hotels in the past, but after having seen so many bad ones in my travels, I dread them now.  The beds are almost always misshapen and impossible to sleep on.  The heating is never right.  The shower sprays water out in strong, sharp streams that it almost hurt.  The smell of the room is always a mystery.  My hotel was no different.  The first room I got had a particularly bad smell that I had to complain and ask for a different room.  They complied, after I told them I'm a member of their frequent guest club.

I forced myself to sleep that first night because I knew I needed to get up early to give myself enough time to find the SAP Training Center where I was scheduled to attend a week-long Workflow class.  I got up at 6:30 AM the next day but the weather (and my foul disposition) didn't change at all.  My stomach was grumbling but I ignored it.  I took a quick, hot (and painful) shower, got dressed, and drove off.  It was still raining hard but at least there was some sort of daylight so I could see the signs a little better.

I was telling myself that day couldn't possibly be any worse than the previous one, and a few seconds later I heard a loud thud that sounded like I ran over something.  I was on a busy Interstate highway that time.  I checked my mirrors and I didn't see anything behind me.  I did notice that the wheel was a little less controllable, but I figured it's normal for that car so I just continued driving.  As I drove on, the wheel became more shaky and less controllable, and then came a point where the whole car shook violently as it moved.  "OOOOOOoOoOoOoOh MmmmyYyYyYyYyY GggggoOoOoOodDdDdDdD!!!" my voice was shaking in sync with the car.  It was apparent that one of my worst fears would soon be realized: a car breakdown in the middle of nowhere!  But I drove on, determined to get to my destination.  Traffic was building up behind me, and I felt bad that my troubles were causing other people's troubles.  However the other drivers seemed to know my predicament.  Nobody honked, and where they could pass me, they quietly did.  After a couple of missed exits (my car problem didn't make me immune to getting lost) I finally stopped somewhere to check my situation and my maps.  Good news was I was a mile away from SAP.  Bad news was my front right tire, what was left of it anyway, was smoking, the hubcap gone, and the metal center charred.  There was no point in stopping a mile away from my destination, so I beat the car to submission and forced it to take me to SAP.  I made it to the training center after a few minutes, but along the way I made a wrong turn and had to break a number of traffic rules to correct it.

I had other problems with this trip.  Most notable was with the crooks managing National Car Rental who refused to reimburse me for my expense in getting their car fixed.  My flight back to Boston was delayed an hour.  I ate something bad at the Philly airport.  I got stuck in traffic in Boston.  And so on and so forth.  I am just glad that I'm back home now.

Looking back, there were a number of good things that happened to me in that trip.  The food at the training center was fantastic.  The area reminded me so much of my old high school and college campus grounds -- it felt so good to be there.  I was able to explore the city of Philadelphia, which was a very nice city as long as it's before 7 PM.  I also explored Manayuk, a former mining town that got converted into a "gimik" place, with nice bars, restaurants, and owner-run stores that didn't close at 7 PM.  I found free parking(!!!) both in downtown Philadelphia and in Manayuk.  I got more comfortable driving in unchartered areas, and got to as far north as King of Prussia, and as far east as New Jersey (this one was an accident though).  Et cetera.

Ten years from now, I wonder which events I'll remember.  The free parking, or my ride of terror?  The friendly staff at SAP, or the rude ones at National Car Rental?  The excellent vegetarian dumpling in Chinatown, or the stomach-turning California roll at the Philly airport?  The cute little town of Manayuk, or the archetype of urban blight that is western Philadelphia?

Who needs rhetorical questions?

A Job Interview Experience

There were three stages in the interview process for this company: phone, video conference, then face-to-face.  I finished the phone interview and that went quite well.  They invited me to do the video conference interview.  This one, however, was a totally different story.

My first video conference interview with that company was canceled because of the flooding in New York City.  This was in August.  That day it rained too much, more than what the city could handle.  The interview was scheduled at 11 AM.  My friend Rex and I left the house at 8 AM so we could have 3 hours to navigate through the traffic and find the interview site.  Those three precious hours were spent stuck in Manhattan instead, crawling a few inches here and there, yelling at fellow irate drivers left and right, pleading with one cop and another to allow us to use the FDR Drive.  In short, I did not make it to the video conference interview.

We rescheduled it to Tuesday after Labor Day (Sept. 7) instead.  That was the closest date we could manage, as there were holidays in the U.S. and the U.K. between that time and Sept. 7, and it was extremely difficult for the company to coordinate the interview with their NJ site.  So Sept. 7 it was, giving me enough time to plan.  And I did.  It was a perfect plan, involving a rental car, Poughkeepsie, maps, meditation techniques, pentel pens, scotch tape, and drinking water.  Some of you know how I plan, how much time and effort I put into it, how I take into account anything and everything that may disrupt the smooth flow.  So when my recruiter told me the news that the Sept. 7 date would not push through because of logistics problems on the company's end, I fell off my chair.  I was ready to drop the company at that moment.

The recruiter begged me to reschedule, since I'd spent time and effort on this one already.  So I told him yes, but it better be soon.  He got me a Sept. 17 date, which at first sounded too far off into the future.  But later on I agreed to this. 

So early this week I started preparing for this.  No more rental cars and driving in Manhattan.  No more logistics problems.  And no more floods, damn it!  I searched high and low for ways to get to the site by public transportation.  It took me a few hours to find out that there was a bus line that leaves the Port Authority Bus Terminal in Manhattan that goes to the area.  The site was an easy (and cheap) cab drive from the bus stop.  Relieved, I focused my attention on the task ahead of me.  Outside the house, the trees were swaying slowly to the breeze.  All the trees in Queens, I imagined, were dancing that way, as Hurricane Floyd was already starting to make his presence known. 

Monday, families in some Florida and Georgia locations were forcefully evacuated from their homes.  Tuesday, the hurricane moved northward swiftly and battered the Carolinas.  Wednesday it gazed its evil eye on the Washington D.C. area.  Thursday it dumped rain on New York and New Jersey like nobody's business.  My flight to Boston that day got cancelled because of too much rain.  The state of New York declared an emergency and sent everybody home after lunch.  All the schools and offices closed early that day, in anticipation of another major flooding of NYC.  I couldn't believe it at first.  I prayed, asked, begged God to make this interview happen!  The storm couldn't be headed to New York!  It just couldn't!

The news confirmed it.  They said the storm would be upon New York that night, and of all the burroughs of NYC, Queens would be hit hardest.  There was light at the end of this dark, wet, and windy tunnel, though.  By morning, they said, the storm would've blown past us.  Friday would be a normal working day.  Business would be open as usual.  Classes would resume.  Hopes would be raised.  That night I prayed that the storm would leave us soon.  I slept earlier than usual, to the sound of howling winds, and rain banging violently against the roof.

I woke up to an unexpectedly dry Friday morning.  It was windy, but it wasn't raining.  Could God have heard me?  I quickly dressed up, put on my best (and only) suit, borrowed Rex's trenchcoat, and got out the door.  I marched confidently to the subway stop, and boarded the train to Port Authority Bus Terminal, where I would catch the bus to Woodcliff Lake.  I got to Port Authority 30 minutes early!  Ha, this interview will happen, I told myself, and soon I will be on my way to London!

The bus arrived 20 minutes late, but what's 20 minutes when I came in 30 minutes early, I thought?  I'll still be there on time.  Down below, a police car blazed by the crooked 42nd Street, its siren breaking the silence in the waiting area I was in.  I boarded the bus and began my journey.

I intentionally stayed in front, nearest the bus driver, and told him this was my first time to take this bus.  I requested that he tell me where I should get off.  The driver said yes.  Confidently, I relaxed on my seat and thought of all the questions I would ask during the interview.  But on our way to New Jersey, I got distracted.  I saw with my own eyes how bad the hurricane damage was.  Huge trees were uprooted here and there, electric posts were toppled, some houses were damaged.  I tried to not let these images spoil my mood, and concentrated on the interview that would happen in little under two hours.  I focused on how I'd act, how I'd put on a show, how I'd deliver my lines, how I'd pass it with flying colors and fly to London for free.

Because of the damage in NJ, the bus didn't go the normal way.  Traffic got rerouted in certain areas.  Not wishing to irk the driver by asking "Are we there yet?" every five minutes, I just smiled at him every now and then.  He'd return my smile every time, and get back to driving.   So we drove on.  When I saw that the time was getting dangerously close to my interview, however, I just swallowed my shame and asked the driver where I should get off.  He gave me this nonplussed look, then he slapped his forehead, sighed, and said we were two towns past it.  "You're kidding me," I stared at him.  "Am very sorry sir," the driver said as he shook his head.

I was screaming inside me.  I got off the bus right there, which was a bad idea because I didn't know where "there" was.  I was totally lost.  All I saw was an ATM, an "Annie Sez:" store, and a payphone.  I went to the Annie Sez store first, to ask where I was, and the phone numbers of the nearest cab companies.  The lady manager told me what to say to the cab company, plus the number of the nearest one (which was in NY, not in NJ -- we were at the border).  I hurried out to the payphone, lifted the handset, and listened for a dial tone.  None.  I hung up and listened again.  Still no dial tone.  The phone was dead!  I ran  back to the store and asked if I could use their phone.  The nice woman agreed, but she couldn't connect to the cab company because it was a different area code.  I told her my situation, that I was coming in for an interview, and that I only had like 5 minutes left to get there.  We frantically searched for the number of the nearest cab company in the 201 area code.  Only two were near enough.  I called one.  It was busy.  I called the other.  It was also busy.  But there was something weird about the busy signals in both.  "Line Congestion," said the manager.  "Their lines are probably dead, like in most places in NJ right now."  My heart felt like it could outrun Hurricane Floyd.  Okay, okay, I tried to calm myself down.  I'll just call the people in the U.K. and tell them I won't get to the site on time.  I dialed my phonecard's 1-800 number to call long distance.  Busy signal!!!

The manager noticed a police car just outside the store.  "Go to him," she said, "maybe he can dial for you."  I said a brief but heartfelt thanks to her and her staff, and sped out the door. 

I went to the cop and pleaded for his help.  He looked at me in a way which made me squirm and think of all the bad deeds I'd done.  Satisfied, he radioed somebody, mumbled some policeman mumbojumbo, and told me to wait.  While we were waiting he asked me if I tried the payphones.  "That one's dead," I pointed the payphone beside the store, "and I don't see any other payphone in the area."  "There's one right by the border," he declared.  "Hop in and I'll take you there."  So I did.  I took the shotgun seat of course, lest I be mistaken for a criminal.

True enough, it was very close.  We got there under a minute.  He pulled over and while I was fumbling to release the seatbelt lock, I found out I wasn't wearing it in the first place.  The officer either didn't notice it, or didn't care because it was too short a drive.  I got out, ran to the payphone, lifted the handset, and heard the sweetest sound of all -- a dial tone!  I flashed a diver OK signal to the cop, and I quickly dialed the cab company's number.  It didn't work.  I dialed again.  And again.  On my seventh try it connected, and I got an answering machine message that said they were closed due to the weather.  I shook my head in disbelief.  This couldn't be happening!!!

Resigned to the fact that I would never get to the interview site, I called the interviewers in the U.K. instead.  The 1-800 numbers were working, thank God, so I was able to use my calling card.  I talked to the guy who said he'd been trying to contact the New Jersey office himself.  He said all lines, even the video conferencing one, were down.  The interview would have to be rescheduled and the earliest was Wednesday.  Sighing, I told him Wednesday was too late for me, as other companies were awaiting my decision.  One last time, I asked him if the interview could be done over the phone instead, like the usual phone interviews.  He said no, the minimum they oculd do was a video conference.  I thanked him for his time, hung up, and looked down on the ground.  American soil never looked so dull.

With a long face, I went back to the cop, and asked him where I could get the bus home.  He offered to drive me there again, and I graciously accepted.  I thanked him, got out, waved, and sat with five other people at the stop.  A bus came along shortly.  In about an hour I was back home in NYC.

Perhaps it was not meant to be.  The events that occurred which prevented me from being interviewed were all beyond my control.  I was like Oedipus trying to avoid his fate, but ended up fulfilling every word of the prophecy.  Perhaps God wanted to teach me a lesson in humility by destroying my Tower of Babel.  Or in line with Hindu Karmic principle, perhaps I had done something awfully bad in the past, and it was payback time.

Thanks anyway for all of you who were there for me in spirit.  Without your support, I would've been in a more horrible state.

Decisions

I've made countless bad decisions in my life.  Some were as trivial as the vomit-green t-shirt I bought at Banana Republic, not capturing a pawn that turned a winning chess game into a draw, and ordering hot fudge sundae when my combo meal drink was a Coke (blech!).

However, some of these choices are not so inconsequential.  I screamed a lot when I was a kid, just to irk my family.  That resulted in me having to go through a yucky throat treatment, leaving me with this raspy voice quality that flushed my dream of becoming the next Pavarotti down the pipes.  Then there's this decision of mine to leave my school bag in an unguarded place.  It got stolen, bag, books, notes for the exam the day after, scientific calculator, wallet holding my ATM cards, school ID, etc.  Everything that I held precious in my young student life.  That incident left me devastated for weeks, not to mention poor grades that disqualified me for a Presidential Scholarship the following semester.

When you do make these bad decisions, other people seem to be always there, to remind you of them.  Expect to hear comments from the polite "If I were you I would've..." to the downright soul-wrenching "You're so $#%@ stupid" from friends, family, and even your own conscience (ala Safeguard commercial).

These days, when I wake up every morning, especially weekday mornings, I'm constantly reminded of this "bad" choice I made not too long ago, a choice that was downright illogical if you really think about it.  A choice that significantly altered the course of my life.

I did not take the IBM employment offer.  In other words, I currently do not have a job.  Nothing.  Zilch.  Nada.  Mei Yow.  Wala.  My contract with IBM expired last June 30, 1999.  Since then, I've been part of the unemployment statistics.

So what did I just forego?  A lot actually.  Like an above average salary.  Green card sponsorship which, when processed by IBM, takes less time than most.  Prestige factor in being an employee of the largest hardware, software, and services provider in the world.  Yearly trips to Cancun, Mexico (c/o my team lead).  Trips to Hawaii and England (c/o my officemate).  Free ski lessons (c/o my team lead and my officemate).  X years of unadulterated fun in Poughkeepsie (or rather, X*52 weekends of fun in NYC).

But I said No Thank You.

I was given my share of "If I were you..." and "You're so stupid" remarks by everybody.  I'd normally say in response: "I'm looking for a better offer."  They'd scratch their heads and ask "What, more money?"  I'd say "Uhm, something like that."  And they'd leave me in peace.  Well, it wasn't really the money.  But what was I supposed to tell them?  The truth?  And risk another round of admonition?

What was the truth?  The truth was, if I took the IBM offer, then I would be getting the above average salary every year.  IBM would sponsor my green card, so I could permanently reside and work in the U.S.  I could hold my head up high every time I walk into Barnes and Noble, with my IBM badge "accidentally" left pinned on my shirt or jeans after office hours.  Every June I would be diving in Cancun with my team lead's family and friends.  Every time my officemate had a party to attend either in Hawaii or in England, I could come with her.  January or February my team would go out on ski trips to Hunter Mountain or Belle Ayre.  The rest of the weekends of the year, I would be going to the city and have a blast with my friends.

I would be doing the same fun stuff a year later.  And again a year after that.  Year after year after year.  I would have fun.  But it would be the same fun.  If there's something I find very hard to do, it's to laugh at the same joke twice with the same intensity.

So I said No to IBM, and Yes to a life full of uncertainties, doubts, and mysteries.  Today is August 12.  It's been 43 days, and I don't have "better offers" (or any offer for that matter) from other companies yet.  My apartment lease ends Sept. 10.  After that, I will wake up in the morning to a different view (hopefully it's a different ceiling, and not the morning sun rising over Central Park).  I'm still waiting, hoping, and praying that I (very soon) find that "perfect" job, one that will allow me to retain my perhaps childish sense of adventure.  And all this wait is making my friends and family squirm uncomfortably.

But you know what?  I'm having the time of my life.