I'm not interested

I am so used to saying "I am not interested" whenever I receive a call from anywhere offering products. Even before the agent has a chance to complete her first sentence, I would say "I'm not interested, thank you".

This morning I received another one of those calls, or so I thought.

Agent: Hi Patricia Gomez
Tracy: Hello
Agent: I am from XXXXXXXX Bank
Tracy: Thanks for calling but I'm not interested
Agent: Actually, I called to inform you that we are waiving the annual fee of your credit card
Tracy: Ohhhh, okay, great
Agent: Can I confirm your home address, so I could sent a letter of confirmation
Tracy: Sure

I guess the lesson learnt here is that, you really don't know that you are not interested until you know what is being offered.

I mean, this time, I was actually genuinely, without a doubt, interested.

hello thank you

Everyday, I struggle to get out of the MRT at my stop going home. To approach the door, I have to alternately say "hello" and "excuse me" or even combinations (Excuse me, excuse me, hello, excuse me, hello, hello) and when I finally get off, I say thank you to those who actually went off to make way.

I never get a reply--neither do I expect one, but I say it anyway.

Sometimes it is answered by a grunt, a tsk sound or stamping feet.

I don't mind, really.

Today was different.

Today, someone replied you're welcome!

The world is changing.

Slipping in the bus to work

There are two types of seat covers in buses, at least the buses that I ride to work everyday. One type is vinyl, and the other is fabric. I don't prefer one over the other, I never had a reason to choose between the two--until today.

I found myself slipping, literally slipping off the seat. I did not have new pants, it was the same pants I wore many times in the past while seated in vinyl covered seats. The seat was not wet. And yes, the person sitting beside me was NOT pushing me off my seat!

It reminded me of the seats near the MRT doors. I never understood why they make it that way. Everyone that I have talked to about this agreed with me, it is impossible to sit still on those diagonal benches. I think even Spiderman would have trouble staying put.

I survived, clearly. But as a result, I was enlightened. I now know that as far as bus seat covers go, fabric is better than vinyl.

Teh for Tricky

After almost three years in Singapore, I still don't know how to buy tea. What I want is the one with condensed milk. In Killiney I could easily get it as teh tarik, but if I try to get from other stores (or hawker places) it is a completely different story. Stall owners would tell me they don't have it, but when I look around, I'd see locals enjoying theirs.

Today, I went to Coffee & Toast to once again, try my luck. I was asking the person taking my order which one had the condensed milk, if it was the Teh O, Teh C or the Teh. She said she doesn't understand. I repeated my question--twice, but I still did not get the answer I wanted.

I played the guessing game. Hoping "C" stands for Condensed milk, I asked for a Teh C.

After my first sip, I realized that I picked the wrong one.

My Singaporean officemate was kind enough to differentiate the teas when I told her about my story.

To aid those who have had been in a situation similar to mine, I am documenting what I learned today.

Teh O - tea with sugar
Teh C - tea with evaporated milk
Teh - tea with condensed milk

Escalator Steps and Giant Leaps

I had dinner with a friend tonight and I was very much amused about my little discovery.

She has absolutely no problem packing her bags and moving to another country with no assurance of anything whatsoever (job, accommodation, what have we) , BUT she has some difficulty catching the first available step on an escalator.

Four escalators later, I concluded that she, on the average is only able to ride the third available slot.

And for what it's worth, I think that maybe she could manage the second, on a good day.

Sweetest Stranger

The nicest thing happened to me today. Is was raining hard, as I got off the bus, I hold my office bag on top of my head, a poor attempt to keep myself , or at least my head, dry. Out of nowhere a stranger (late-sixty-something, chinese, heavily built with a disarming smile) is suddenly standing beside me, he says 'My umbrella is big enough for two people, we can share', he seemed genuinely nice, I graciously accepted. Upon crossing the street, and approaching our condo's back gate, he says 'I will stay until you get the gate open, and I hope it is a short distance to the entrance, so that you wouldn't get too wet'. He did just that --stayed a bit, until I got through the gate.

It was very nice of him, it made my day. If I chance by him again, I will be sure to thank him profusely.

Rainy Days (and Sundays) and Mondays (and Tuesdays)

It has been raining non-stop since Sunday. I had no idea that it could rain this much in Singapore. Based on my recollection of rainfall during the last year and a half that I had been here, rain usually lasts no more than a meager two hours. I remember complaining that I miss rainy days in Manila.

I especially like driving after a downpour; the greens seem greener. I feel more solemn. I get the same feeling when I read Japanese novels, it is as though some Zen magic spell had been cast on the ink that whoever lays her eyes upon it would experience tranquility.

I look out my window, to watch the traffic, to watch the Christmas lights in Raffles Country Club fill the ballroom with an orange glow. As I finish the last of my cucumbers, it dawns on me; I am at peace.