“Nice music,”I told the balding taxi driver as he sped up along the nearly crowded Beach road. A lively Mozart sonata was playing in his radio. K545, i think? Third movement.
“Thanks! I like classical music.”
He choked, in his Chinese-english accent, as if he heard something unexpected. “It’s soothing, and allows me to have a good drive. I listen to it everyday.”
The mature acacia trees came running like busy japanese salarymen on my window. We’re approaching 60mph, and a few kilometers more from the airport. everything was blurry -But not how i remember the things that happened in the past 10 days.
The team i worked with in this office is composed of indians, indonesians, koreans, and an Australian boss who doesn’t look like one but speaks with an accent. It felt nice to really work with different cultural backgrounds because you will learn to respect each other’s beliefs, ideas and share gossips (not to mention you’ll train yourself to speak in English always). You will find out that we’re all really the same.
Ji hye: Hi byron! Do you want to have some coffee later? Maybe around 10?
Me: Sure, i’ll see you at the lobby then. It’s nice of you to invite me!
There is starbucks at the office ground floor. A woman with brown hair and big expressive eyes took my order. She looked tired.
“One cafe latte please.”
“Howt o cowld?” she snapped.
“Hot”
Ji hye told me that she’d pay for it but i quickly declined her.
“Don’t worry, we get an allowance for these kinds of stuff. The office pays for it.”
“Oh i didn’t know that!”
We decided to sit outside and a hot breeze that smelled of stale cigarette blew as we opened the door. It is really hot in Singapore.
—-
Lee Ji Hye is a korean colleague working on a different urban design project but still part of the masterplanning department. She just joined our company two months ago. I learned that she earned her master’s degree in netherlands (TU Delft) and stayed there for 4 years, worked in Hongkong, and next Singapore. She hasn’t returned to Korea since.
“You really travel a lot and i’m sure you’ve been to a lot of places already.”, me, trying to break the ice.
“Sometimes when i wake up, i don’t really know where i am, honestly.” She said, and smiled. “Do you get that feeling?”, a follow up.
“I do, but not so much. But i certainly miss home at the moment.” I said.
“But you’re going back this afternoon, right?”
“Yes.”
She just nodded, and smiled.
A deafening noise came rumbling and almost shook the glass panes of the lobby. Aircrafts tend to use this airpath in landing to Changi airport, i heard. It gets scary at times, because one would feel as if the plane is going to crash into our office window. You can hear the sound, but you don’t know where it came from.
We talked about a lot of things including school, work, et cetera. An occasional jet engine noise would pass by, breaking our conversation with short, awkward pauses.
“I really hope you’ll come back here again.”
She told me as she sipped her coffee. The black rimmed glasses thar she wore perfectly matched the jet black short hair that framed her heart-shaped face.
“I will.” I smiled back and drank the last drop of my latte.
—-
I admit that this so-called “working-miles-away-from-home” scheme is still new to me and it gets into my core being. But learning to cope up with it is a different thing as well, i thought. A few days ago may have been too dramatic, but just recently I found myself embracing the whole concept of little sacrifices such as this. It’s just a matter of weighing what is significant in the long run. Contradicting? I know.
I learned that if you open yourself enough to accept new people in your life, but not closing the doors to whatever or wherever or whoever you came from, it won’t be lonely as much.
In this short 10-day conditioning trip abroad, i had a good chat and got treated by an old friend, whom i look up to so much, given good advice by my bosses, warmed up with my colleagues here who i just happen to talk via e-mail before, hugged by my teammate, tapped in the back for a job well done by my indonesian friend, had really good sensible conversations with my korean colleagues, met a filipino kababayan who’s really nice, taught how to ride a bus and use an advanced fare system, met a chinese taxi driver who wanted to be a doctor and wants to go to the Philippines, an opportunity to be something more, faced my fears of crossing the border, traveled alone in a place stranger to me, and a whole lot more things to be grateful for. I will miss them, for sure.
—-
As I am writing this, the girl beside me named Rachel Ang Go is filling up her immigration card. She speaks mandarin but her nationality is Filipino according to her card. Her writing is shaky… Wait…
turbulence.
It’s little past 9 and we’ll be arriving shortly in Manila. The towering ladies of the aisle wearing yellow shirts are now checking everyone in preparation for landing.
Orange lights are now scattered below as i look out the window, and apart from these lights provided by the lightning in the distance, it’s dark outside. Like a chaotic computer circuitry functioning to provide life to the 1.6 million residents of this city, manila lives everyday like any other conurbation in the world.
But no matter what country i may set my foot into for the years to come, Philippines, will always be my country.
Happy Independence day.
—-
“Sir, pakipatay po ng mobile devices. Papalapag na po tayo.” She told me, and smiled.
Ah, i’m home again.
