Culture Shock 2: Language
May 20, 2008
You know what I’ve had enough of? Non-English speakers. They’re those who either speak in incomprehensible accent, or not speak nor understand a single English word at all. It goes without saying that the English language is a difficult and complex one to learn, and that the easiest way to fully grasp its concept and set of rules is by way of a full frontal lobotomy, but I bet you’ll agree that everyone else in this big lump of dirt should at least be able to express himself in English. Eeyawh breep boop wikiwiki siffee ee eida sefehh fodah roongg teeee (But I love my local language, Steelio. Our ancestors have been conversing in our native tongue since time immemorial, and we have had no problems at all.) Well then if you think the world only revolves around the four corners of your culture and ethnicity, then you dear sir have no right to be outside a 15-mile radius of your country. It’s not even an issue of norm ferchrissakes! And I’m not asking that you speak the language fluently. Just being able to tell someone that you need to take a pee in words that everyone can have a handle on is more than enough. Come on, work with the rest of the world here! (more…)
I’m no Racist. Also, TMB plays on May 3rd. And they will play Music!
April 8, 2008I am not one who typically goes around making broad, sweeping generalizations about people. I know not all fruity pansy-assed yuppies are accountants. I know that all black people don’t set electronic stores ablaze and steal television. I know that ugly, fat women who have seven children or more, aren’t just sex-fodder for their drunk, unemployed husbands needing to satisfy irrepressible libido at all costs. I also do not consider all Iraqis as the hostile, suicide-bombing freaks that the United States wanted us to believe. In fact, I take great comfort in knowing they are the most accommodating, sociable people anyone can ever meet.
I work with people from different descents. Among all of them, I sensed a great deal of harmony with the Iraqi guys. Usually I can find ways to avoid talking to foreigners because (1) I find their accent odd and funny, and (2) I find everything they do odd and funny, because the cold, harsh place called the Internet has opened my eyes to the wonderful world of racism. So the first time I learned that my friend Ahmed here was from Iraq, the images of a car-bomb, severed fingers, and pacha instantly crammed my thoughts. And I could have sworn I saw an imaginary AK-47 rifle and a saif strapped on his back.
But then I learned that my Iraqi friends were way more tech-savvy then anyone else on the Gulf region. We started trading software, cracks, cheat codes, ripped movies in avi format and access to unlimited porn by way of bypassing UAE’s ridiculously conservative internet restrictions. From them I got a leaked copy of Nero 8, Adobe Professional 8, AutoCad 2008, and Cumback Pussy 8. These guys must have a lot of resources at their disposal, and they’re generous enough to share it to the needy. Also, they might be the only Mid-Eastern people who sure know how to party.
Party. With them.
So why is George W Bush fond of waging war against Ahmed’s country? Well, fuck America, that’s why. That’s not to say that I approve of what Saddam did on his neighboring countries and Iraq in general nor I’d give my mom a “My son went to Iraq and all I got was this lousy shirt” shirt, I just hate the idea of declaring war to prevent upcoming catastrophe. That’s like screwing for virginity or something like that.
Oh and speaking of parties, prepare to hold on to your lugnuts as the Man Blog guys perform at Bela Bar, Greenhills on May 3rd. Be there, or be scared!
Culture Shock I: Food
March 6, 2008After half a day at the site office, our office driver Kumar was kind enough to pick me up and take me back to our main office. But since it’s lunchtime, he decided we head over to this nice Indian restaurant he frequents to have a munch at a typical Indian lunch food. After all, food transcends all linguistic and geographical boundaries. Or so I thought.
We ordered something called a “tally”, which is an everything-on-it course. The meal includes 6 dishes, all of vegetarian base.
Above, counter-clockwise:
- Potatoes with chopped chili and curry
- Curry soup with zuchinni
- Sauteed mongo in curry
- Kura kuzhambu - red soupy thingamajigie. With curry!
- Rasam - sour soup similar to our sinigang, but with (surprise! surprise!) CURRY!
- Payasam - milk curd with parsley, also spicy
- White yogurt - dessert, which was the only item in the entrée that is not spicy. No, wait a second - IT GODDAMN IS!
While I held my breath as I was chomping away, I noticed my Indian friend devour his entire plate with much gusto. To my surprise, a smear of red paste was the source of his delight.
So I opted to try it myself. What you don’t know won’t hurt you right? WRONG!
So yeah, I suffered from third-degree burn and the feeling of being punished by the three major Hindu Gods. But I enjoyed lunch nonetheless. Free lunch is always nice.
Living in another country may put one in a situation wherein he needs to face a new culture with either of two simple attitudes. The first consists of understanding and acceptance. The second is rejection and throwing up your entire lunch and hailing a cab to the nearest McDonald’s.
Kilro…Steel was Here!
February 14, 2008After a mere two months of stay in the Middle East, it was surprising how excited I was to return to my smog-coated, street rat-infested, and jeepney-ruled hometown: Manila. Don’t get me wrong; I love this city. And I am, and forever will be a city street rat1.
But the journey back to my fatherland was not very easy. Aside from the long wait and the idle lines at the airline ticket counters and money-changer booths, the security in the Dubai International Airport was intrinsically tight. Specifically to me. I couldn’t blame them. I had a full beard on half my face. They find a Filipino sporting an Arabian look weirder than a Harry Potter book read from right to left.
Harry Potter read backwards
At the walk-through metal detector I was greeted with a scowl of suspicion and a glare of disgust by a local airport security personnel as soon as I set off the damn thing.
Scowl of suspicion
Security: Please remove your phone and keychains or any metal objects from your pocket.
Me: (Removed said things and walked through the metal detector again) *beeps*
Security: Remove your jacket please.
Me: (Took off my jacket and walked right under the machine again) *beeps*
Security: Remove your belt and shoes please.
I removed said articles of clothing and passed through the metal detector once again. At that point the security guy frisked my almost naked body probably in hopes of finding a concealed weapon in my underpants.
Me: Sir, you don’t suppose I’m carrying a bomb strapped in my torso waiting for the call of Allah to blow the infidels to kingdom come, do you?
Well, I didn’t actually say that lest they hand me my head on a silver platter with all the trimmings. So in conclusion, I missed Manila and all its wimmen.
1. I admit that some of my references can be a little obscure. In the Disney movie Aladdin, the protagonist, who is an American-accented white piece of cornbread was referred to as a street rat by the ugly, more ethnic-looking villain Jafar.
