Bye for Brussels

Well, after weeks of holding my breath -- I am finally leaving for Brussels tonight. I have finished some of the work that needs to be done, although I honestly feel that there is still so much not done. I will be away from Manipur for a long time (three weeks) because I am going for a holiday after the training/workshop. The picture is the place where I'll be staying along with 19 outer participants. It is called Maison Notre-Dame du Chant d'Oiseau, a name I think I have a hard time pronouncing. But this is going to be home for the next weeks!

Anyways, I have already a plan as to what to do and where to go during the time that I will be in Europe. Weekends in Paris and Amsterdam and then off to Rome on the last day. Whew.. the had life of a traveler.

I shall, of course keep on blogging so every whining, praising, crying, death-defying moments will be informed to you. Yes you.

So bye for today as by tomorrow, I will be Brussels, Belgium.

Did I mention they alledge to be making the best beer in the world?

Plans For An Indian Holiday

Today is a holiday in the whole of India. It is Republic Day -- though as a foreigner, I don't exactly know what it means. For me, it could be one of those days when I could lounge away watching movies after movies after movies, leaving bed only for necessary activites (eat, shit and piss, of course!!) and rocking myself to dream land sporadically. Best yet, because it is a Monday!

But... here I am facing the office computer trying to finish the 4M order. And truthfully, I hadn't slept at all last night! (I watched 6 movies non-stop from 8 pm onwards... this morning I started on season 2 of Californication).

I don't think it is a masochistic tendency. I just have to finish this and move on to other responsibilities before I leave for Brussels this Saturday. And just looking at the list of things I have to do (with big bold red letters labelled PRIORITY on most of them), I feel I just don't have enough time. Or probably the energy....

Worst -- I haven't packed yet. I know you'll probably say this dude is weird: he will leave days from now and he is talking about packing? Well, another psychiatric side of me is that I prepare my "wardrobe"days (some times weeks) before I leave. Like when I was in Myanmar, two months before I leave the project, I had already sorted, packed in nice folds all the shirts and jeans I want to bring back home. If there is a favorite shirt, I'd wash it (myself) 4 days beforehand and then pack day on the day I will leave. I think this is good because you (read: me in this context) tend to organize things and don't get frazzled by time constraints.

So anyway... these are my scattered projections for the day... Back to work!

Do you think the peripheral clinics will need more methyergometrine this quarter?

Whose Line Is It, Anyway?

After spending the day reviews medical stocks, I decided to have a nap. As I was browsing through some old magazines hoping to fall asleep amidst the hum of the office generator, one particular article caught my ever-discerning eye: “How to have an effective pick-up line.” Not that I need one desperately, but having been around different people from different nationalities had me thinking maybe I should read this – just in case I need one – someday.

The pick up lines in that article on MW (India’s Men’s Weekly) were not only cheesy but some were downright vulgar. Example: (Use index finger to call one over and then say:) “If I made you come with come with one finger, imagine what I could do with my whole hand.” Yuckk…. Or… “Hi, my name is Milk. I do your body good.” I know some of you might be screaming in your seats right now saying : “what the …” but hey! Let’s face it. In these modern times where relationships mean zilch to a metrosexual, having a good pick up line assures someone of having their needs actually met. At least for that time.

Somewhat related to this, a couple of years ago, in Malawi, in one of the welcome parties I have attended in the capital (Lilongwe), there was a game played (the name of the game escapes me for now) where we all sit in a circle ( about 5 or 6 persons) and you throw a question and every one has to answer. Example: Movies by Quentin Tarrantino. If someone can’t answer then he/she will be a “slave” for a couple of minutes. Pick up lines was one of the categories.

So in honor of these witty (less) remarks, I tried remembering the worst ones my friends and acquaintance had used at certain times of their lives…. And believe me dude, I haven’t used one, yet (defensive? – nope). Here are the dozen cheesy notes, posted in no particular category. Bravo for making me remember them all!

1. I had a wet dream about you last night. Would you like to make it a reality?
2. I’d like to name a multiple orgasm after you.
3. I’ve got a condom with your name on it.
4. That shirt’s very becoming on you. If I were on top of you, you’d be coming too.
5. There are 265 bones in the human body. Would you like to have one more?
6. Are you good in maths? Is 69 a perfect square?
7. Are you lost ma’am? Coz heaven’s along way from here.
8. Did it hurt? …when you fell down from heaven?
9. Can I borrow a quarter? I need to call my mother to tell her I met the woman of my dreams.
10. Hello… I’m a thief and I am here to steal your heart.
11. I have only three months to live….
12. Bond. James Bond.

Waddayathink? You think you could deliver these lines smoothly? Or are you puking your guts out at the intense drama of today’s courtship?

Journey To The Center Of The ... Eeek!

It is 3 am and I am still awake. I have started on 10-days PAP (prohibited area permission) journeys from Manipur to New Delhi. I am sleepy and tired but I don't want to close my eyes because I know that as soon as I wink -- it will be a nod to dreamland.

I have been here in Delhi since last week for PAP and Visa reasons (my Indian visa expires on the 25th). Just being away from the project fills me with a lot of anxiety over the tasks and responsibilities I need to do just before I leave (again) next week for PAP reasons and for my training in Brussels.

Honestly, I thought it was cool to travel regularly - lesser work-related stress, more shopping and sight seeing. Recently, I realized that with the regular round of airport visitations, you can never get things done and work clogs up.

Anyways, here I am , waiting for the driver to pick me up and having a last go on my blog. And so I say, not only hasta la vista, but here's wishing for lesser air pockets, baby.

Did I tell you I snore when I'm tired?

Giving In To Techno Temptation

I didn't want to say it and I have been keeping it for some time from you guys, but I guess it is safe to let the cat out of the bag. My gadget itch struck again while I was in Delhi. Of course I know that there was a need to buy a new lap top (my old one is still working but totally battered) and my want is so great I had to skimp on a few necessities. It took me three days to think and mope about it, but in the end I succumb to the techno temptation.

I bought an HP pavilion entertainment lap top (don't ask me of the model) which has amazing features: 3 GB RAM, superDVD, 3.2 meg web cam, finger print identification system, Nvidia graphics, etc... it was love at first buy. The sound is crisp, clear and loud: perfect for a music lover like moi.

I am so inspired to work on my lap top that I often forget it is time to go back home. At the house, I would either pitter-patter on the soft keys and have a continuous download of movies, music and software. Worst, Finn showed me a better way to get them so for the past few days, I was hooked.

Anyways, I promised myself that I would never salivate for another gadget. This would be the last --- this quarter. For now, let me go back and moon over my new baby.

Signing off.

Reviving A Dying Relationship

Two days ago, I had a long chat with a friend I haven't seen (and heard of) for a long time. Chat at this time and age do not mean sitting down and talk face to face (of course, some do it with a camera), but sitting and typing our hearts away. What started as a "hi-hello" , ended with thoughts about long lost loves and coping with the stressful search for sweethearts.

So X (he doesn't want me to mention his name) has been "separated" from his wife, four months after their wedding to work in the US. He is processing his papers, but since this takes time, he continues to do his work in the the Philippines. (A background: x was a school mate in the university, he used to date one of the girls from my class but nothing came out of that for reasons I do not know.) After a year and half of waiting for his papers and intermittently meeting his wife, he decided to call it quits. He said he got "tired".

I probed further on the matter, because you can't say get the hell out of my life to someone for nothing. He was evasive to the point that he was irritated by my questions. In the end, I said my good luck and wished him happiness.

I really don't understand relationships. I know that success in a relationship depends on a lot of things. Mostly it would be on a case to case basis, but the general ingredients should be there: love, trust and the willful desire to make things work out.

My "friend" must have his reasons and he must have NOT seen what he had. Probably it wasn't love at all. Probably it was something else. I have seen people get married for convenience, and I have seen people wrap their hearts in iron cages for the sake of those conveniences.

But that is beside the point. For someone like me who spends a lot of time away from people, including my family, I have yet to learn how to revive a dying relationship and let go when the moment comes. As a doctor, we were taught how to rescucitate the dying -- and when you see the point of no return -- you just have know when to stop. It is a tricky thing for a lot (including me) to hold on to long term relationships HOPING that it might come alive, long after everyone realized that what you are having is buried six feet under. We tend to rationalize, then bargain but most of us never come to accepting the fact that something is supposed to be over.

Love can be forever... and I am so happy for those people who have found themselves in love with the same person. But the recent roll of events has made me question the aspects of love and being in love. I am not cynical. I am a realist. It would certainly hurt the living shit of me should I fall out of a relationship, but that it is life and I have to move on.

Maybe when I find the answer to these I can have a more sturdy look on love and relationships... Maybe it would be the end to queries about mid-life love- panic attacks. And maybe then I could give my "friend" a better advice.

For Anam: A Greeting

It is Anam's birthday today so I'd like to dedicate a special post for him.

I met Anam in Maungdaw, Northern Rakhine State, Myanmar, last year when I was assigned there. He was supposed to be my translator/personal assistant but we ended up as brothers. I told him that was snubbish when I first met him... making me find it so hard to work on weekends because he would find alibis not to work. Of course I understand that it takes a lot of trust for friendship to settle in and trust takes time. After that it was all easy. He arranged my schedule, followed me whereever I go (as long as it is within the travel authorizations) and his family fed me up whenever I come for a visit. We shared t-shirts and other stuff during MMDs (mobile malaria days), had several rounds of beers somewhere, and talked about personal stuff like there was no ending. He knew when I am angry (he keeps quiet when I start to raise my voice), adjusts when I am lonely and sad, listens to my wild ranting about work and people in the office and introduced me to people and places and things other expats would never have the chance to. It is probably because of my friendship with him that I was endeared by the staff and was welcomed by the Muslim community in Maungdaw.

Looking back, I wouldn't have change anything -- he was one of the many people who made my work easier and my stay in Myanmar more memorable. Long after I finished in Myanmar, we still keep in touch, and update ourselves with daily changes in our lives.

So here's to a deeply nice guy who I wish will find success in whatever he does and whereever he goes. You are one of a kind and I am so lucky to have known you. Happy birthday....

Out and About in Delhi

I spent two nights partying in Delhi.

The first night was in a place called Stones in Defense Colony. Stones is my favorite hang out whenever I'm in town. It has the ambiance and the comfort I am looking for in a bar. It is where I would take someone out for a date, or bring friends for a conversation or for after-work relaxation. Anyways, I met Jui and her nice friends - three successful and intelligent girls (2 are lawyers and the other is a publicist). I never had a spontaneous and interesting conversation for such a long time! We talked about movies, relationships, women 'empowerment', books - just basically anything!

Last night, I went out with my colleagues to do bar-hopping in Greater Kailash N block. We stopped first at this place called Mannekin. It was so surreal as the music being played were from the golden 80's. Me growing up in that decade means I have to shake and raise the roof. It was fun not only tasting the drinks (I had a B52, a white russian, mojito and a huge glass of rum and coke). The fun part was the dancing (of course) and just hanging out with cool guys. Jui brought us to a different bar but the scene was not as nice as the former. In the second place, there were a lot of yuppies and you can (actually) smell the hormones floating in the air. So after a drink (which was around 1 am already), we decided to shift to a different place. Now there are not so many places in Delhi opened until the wee hours of the morning for party rats like us. In desperation (!) we asked one of the guys leaving (for home, probably) where the next best place would be. This turned out to be a disco in Hotel Ashok. It was a big disappointment. Just before we entered they asked for 2000 rupees - each - which they said can be consumed for drinks. For already half-drunk guys coming from different dry states here in India, did that stop us? Hell, no! Anyways, the disco was not as enticing as expected, there were ladies of questionable intentions, there were men of more questionable intentions and the music was Hindi all through out.

So after saying in this "uninteresting" place for 3 hours and several glasses of rum and coke, we decided to hit the road. Good thing that Jui's cousin has a car which squeezed the five drunk dancers in. Olivier who happened to have an early flight had barely a few minutes left to collect his luggage and proceed to the airport. I didn't even had the chance to say bye as I was too wasted to get out of bed.

What have I learned from all these? My current maxim would be: "Work hard, party harder.". Ah life in cosmopolitan Delhi.

Slumdogging Along

There is a big hype about Slumdog Millionaire not only here in India, but also in most of the movie-watching world.... and I understand why. I was privy to have watched the movie, prior to its release this coming January 23 in India - thanks to a friend.

The movie is amazing in the way the story unfolds and the way it was presented. It is a simple yet effective, touching yet not heavy, socially conscious but not probing. It is a love story - with Who Wants to be a Millionaire as a backdrop. It is a story of hope and persistence. A story that most would identify themselves with because it is a story of the human spirit overcoming the worst of situations and winning in the end. I will not tell the story here so as not to spoil the interests of other people. I would like to praise the actors, particularly the children, who I believe are simply magnificent. Dev Patel, who played the lead actor is quite good for a first timer and so is Irfan Khan (who I think is the best actor in India) as the police inspector. I not a big fan of Freida Pinto, but she has proven here that beauty can have talents - given the proper vehicle and director.

Another nice thing about this movie is that it is not your usual Bollywood genre. There is a dance at the end of the movie and (set in Mumbai train station) and it was just perfect to end the movie in a lighter note.

Mumbai is presented in its darkest sense - slums, gangsters, sex trade. Danny Boyle directed like he had been living here for a long time. He presented the movie like a man who has been eating chapatis and momos in the streets of Mumbai.

Anyways, it would be good for anyone to watch the movie.... I feel Dev Patel's fear sitting on the Millionaire hot seat (I remember my game show days, hehehe). I understand his brother's (his name escapes me now) wish for forgiveness. I feel for the children's strong sense of survival.

Have a go at the cinema. Enjoy the gem of a movie that is Slumdog. I did.

Wistful Working

There are so many reasons why I haven't written anything for the past few days.

Just after my birthday, we got entangled in this beautiful work called 12 M (basically it's a report for activities the past year and interpreting data -- to know whether we have achieved the indicators). It was a priority so we have to push aside other things, including blogging. After a while of looking at rows after rows of different parameters defining a project, I kind of got the beat and we finished 3 days before the deadline. What was gross were the layers of toilet paper used for blowing my nose. As you know, I had a super flu (which lasted for exactly 16 days) and had to bear through working in the clinics and waking up early in the morning listening to church songs. I even sounded funny in a Ray Charles sort of way. The difference is that I say mayodays instead of mayonaise.

The other thing which got me worked up was the evaluations. The hardest part of this job is to find one hundred and twenty ways to say "you suck at your job" without being so harsh and judgmental. So, I ended up saying things like: "scratching your balls when you don't have work is not productive.." Kidding. Truth is, I learned the art of asking subliminal (i don't know if that is the proper word) questions and have the staff answer me back positively. So I would ask: "what do you think you should do when you don't have data to enter?" And I got a response: "Buy paan (betel nut concoction) and go to the clinic". I didn't like the paan part, but he got into the clinic part, so that was okay --- a bit.

I also got to read ancient protocols and felt like Indiana Jones trying to decipher the reasons why it was written in the first place. Right now, I am trying to finish the ANC (ante-natal clinic) protocol, written three doctors ago.

And so it came to pass that on my 16th birthday, I got to do a lot of work. But I am in Delhi now so I get to do a bit of truancy....and of course, shopping.

Enough of this and now.... back to work!

Bits and Pieces 2: Post Birthday Comments

Thanks for all those who sent greetings during my 16th birthday. Yap! Hard as it may seem to admit, this little boy has grown. Most of you guys, I miss terribly! I haven't seen or talk to you for ages and yet you remembered.... (hear the sound of my tears gently falling).

Marie, there's a lot of vodka left... in fact, it was the most sober birthday I ever had in my life. Of course, this does not count when I was a year old. Norie (and maybe.... just maybe.. Chito...) thanks for the greetings a day in advance!

My MSF-Hong Kong family who sent an email and a fax with all the office staff signing in there (hey.. I don't even know some of the guys in there!)...

Susan!!!! Thanks for following this blog! I wasn't a bit embarassed about the Japanese porn. I guess all comes to a "cleansing"process when I admitted that I have it in my room. And you know what, Miyabi wants to see it too!

Anam and Soyet Alom, thank you so much for calling me. It must have felt weird knowing that the intelligence guys from Myanmar listening to our conversation. I could have sworn that there was another voice trying to understand the high English flying through the networks.

Lastly, I thank my guys here in Manipur, lead of course by the great Miss P and my dude Finn. Thanks for confirming (or re-affirming) my love for little alcohol, Sheila, for the sweet necklace, Miyabi for the noodles (Banzai.. long life!) and of course Michelle! Thanks also goes to Parul, my friend in Delhi and to Chandrika (meaning moonlight) for such an extravagant gesture!

I love you guys... Blessed is the man who has friends!

For Peggy: Whereever you may be...

Peggy was killed on my birthday. She would have been 5 months now and her sweet life was sacrificed on the 5th of Jauary.
I arrived last August 19 here in Churachandpur. She was offered to me out of goodwill by one of the staff. I, of course said no, as i am working in a humanitarian organization. Her parents died a horrible death and she, together with 5 other siblings were placed in different homes. She was the cutest thing I ever saw... fair skin, and a smile that could melt anyone's heart. I promised, however to support her by providing some money on a monthly basis. it was not much, but I thought that as an outsider, this is the best that I could do.
I visited her every now and then, bringing some presents-- and she always meet me with vim and vigor -- so full of life! Her carers, friends of mine, were happy that I was apart of her growing up. We taught her things, I read her books. She was growing up to be a nice lady.
A couple of days before my birthday, her adoptive father came and asked if I "wanted"her. I said no, of course. I couldn't bear having her. Never.
And so it came that my birthday was celebrated with less than a hundred people hungry for anything, that Peggy was sacrificed. Peggy, my 60 kilo pig was killed to feed my staff. I was left with no choice -- it's her or Neko (our house dog and guardsman).
Peggy, no matter where you are thank you. It was a memorable day and your death made a lot of people satiated. Barbaric, but in this world where one is worth the last meal he had, it was atrue sacrifice on your part.
Thank God I still have Pat your brother for my farewell party....

New Year Abba-minations

Kum thah chibai!

The new year has gotten the best of me. After having an excellent italian dinner (pasta, pizza and salad), we drowned ourselves on rum and coke, and the activity before the countdown was watching Mamma Mia -- singing to the songs by Abba (here I go again, my,my.. how can I resist you?).

It was a bit of a weird feeling sitting around with cool guys singing to the best (or the worst, depending on how you see it) of the Abba. So ironic seeing the cool beaches of Greece and us covered in several layers of clothing , huddling next to the miniscule mei-po (mini-fire place). Three minutes before the year ended, we paused the screen and rushed to the third floor balcony (probably hoping for fireworks??). Rum and coke in hand, we greeted each other happy new year amidst a back ground of prayers.

Huh?

Churachandpur, as I have mentioned before is a Christian district. Before the Christmas season started several churches around the block have already "epiphanized" us with morning songs and late evening prayers. Did I mention the drums? So the prayer is in a monotonous tone "sung"with the beating of the drums. And oh, yeah, there is a prompter on a microphone saying the parts of the hymn -- just in case someone from the choir forgets the words.

Going back to the new year celebration, it was blessed enough for us to go back down and do a karaoke of the Abba songs until 1:45 am. Of course, I didn't go to sleep till 4 am when the choir in the three neighbouring churches had a tea break. And it was rock and roll thereafter.

And so it was that another year came and passed. Different would be the word for it. Unforgetable? Pass me the rum before I say anything again.