Stories from the Tropics #6

Prior to starting my blog I used to send my missives via email to those interested in hearing what I had to say. This is the sixth such installment of the 7 I sent prior to starting the blog.

February 11/09

Proclivity - a strong inherent inclination toward something objectionable

Use – Chic has a proclivity to continually burning his face, or specifically his prodigious proboscis.

You would think by now I would have learned my lesson after not once but twice having done the same in only 5 weeks here. Insouciantly I lay myself victim to this intense environment and pay the consequences. It all happened innocently enough after a day from hell on Friday, coupled with three nights of staying out late compliments of our visiting project manager. Tuesday, dinner and too many Bintangs, home at 10, Wednesday, dinner at the same place on the beach, and instead of Bintangs it was copious amounts of red wine. I myself, still reeling from the previous night limited myself to bottled water as I watched the others quickly forget what they inflicted on themselves the night previously. Thursday I went out with Mark for dinner with some other expats, then to a Brazilian party (whatever that means) and then at 10pm to “Motions” the Thursday night disco club. Whoa that was an experience – a corrugated metal dump right downtown where the locals hang and the expats come to dance. After acclimatizing myself to a small two room palace where in one room the bad Timorese band plays to the other room where the latinos do there gyrations with each other, After getting comfortable with the environment I spotted the safety hazards that abound: like the head trauma waiting to happen where the 35 year old coach sat innocently under a heavily weighted coconut tree ready to release it’s bounty. Home finally at 12:30am. Come Saturday Dan and I (we are the only two at Terra Santa) quietly removed ourselves from the action for a quiet day close to home. The day started with a 7 km walk, cleverly I remembered from the previous weekend when we did the same and managed to burn yet again - I applied sun screen both to my neck, ears and my scalp and dispatched from our apartment on a cloudy, overcast but otherwise hot day (note the lack of face protection and proclivity definition). I didn’t realize that within a short distance of where I have a little piece of the western world sanctuary was a world that time forgot; there was no adequate shelter, running water or electricity. Walking in amongst the villagers I saw people washing clothes, washing themselves in the communal water pump while the pigs, goats, roosters and dogs scavenged for their morning meal. After that little adventure it was a relief to come back to our little piece of shangrila just sitting around the pool all day, reading, chatting and having a few Bintangs – but exposed all the while to the sun. It was a day of rest needed and despite a little to much sun much needed.

The day of hell I referred to was something simple enough – as the head of HR there was concern that all the employee files were not secured – I suggested to move the files to a vacant room on the main level where only certain HR people had access – seemed simple enough. That was two days previously, then on Friday not once but three times it came back to haunt my day: we should move people downstairs along with the files, and leave the others (fuel inventory) here. Then the other way around, keep the HR upstairs and the others down. Then another department got jealous and wanted in this move, and so on and so on. Finally after almost losing it (my first time here) I finally said here’s what’s happening - fuel people downstairs, HR up with the files. Something so simple became so seemingly complex for no good reason. Another example of this is that if you ask someone to do a simple task, like bring me a file, or make up a list of x/y and z please right away - you must continually ask to the point of being a nag until it is finally acted upon. A small glimpse into the world that is my work.

Sunday brought more new experiences for me. First it was lunch with our five immediate MHI mates at a Turkish restaurant – a small hole in the wall right downtown, I would have easily walked by it otherwise. The place was just as I might have thought a Turkish place might be though I have no experience with such regions/cultures. A one man show – with the main guy looking suspecially turkish quickly started cooking on a single hot plate the necessary ingredients for our five chicken kabob plates at the same time frantically smoking and drinking tea. As we were the only customers in the capacity 10 dinner the owner was kind enough to turn a giant fan our way. Nice in an open air shop but the blast jettisoned our beer cans and flat breads provided for us to eat our meal with. If I still had long hair I could have done the Fabio look while dining! All that said it was a very good meal for which I will return soon.

Right after that we made a quick trip to the local market to see what it was like. Imagine a football stadium size area with stalls packed so tight together it is but a single lane walking path. Some have stalls facing the outside others are within a vast maze of covered corrugated metal shacks with all sorts of products for sale: from dried mazeand beans to a variety of fresh produce – some of which I recognized, many I did not. Then there was an assortment of other products (as this is the flip-flop capital of the world) I bought a pair ($5USD) and finally found a bottle of moisturizer ($2USD). After that the selection is limitless – including dried tobacco in loose mounds, live animals and that already butchered (this I love this especially as one guys job is to stay close with what looks like a small mop swishing back and forth to keep the flies off the meat). While the pictures will not do it justice you get the idea.

After a quick pit stop for bathing suits and a towel it was off to Arbaroo (where the other MHI guys stay) for a pool party. It was our team and a host of other expats, mainly women of all nationalities. It was a good time with the barby going and copious drinking going on poolside. One interesting thing about pools here: they are unheated but still feel like a hot tub and you don’t so much swim as you hang on the side, head only out and contemplate life, in the deep end legs dangling. I was in the pool this day probably an hour and a half just hanging as others were as well. We were interrupted by a tropical storm so as those poolside retreated for cover I remained in the drink warmed by the pool – tentative to get out as, ironically enough, I was fearful of a chill should I get out. The shower ended quickly, and as the heat never really abates everyone else was out again and the party continued. I made an important discovery, once Mark returns to reality in a day or two it is time to restrain myself. When expats get together they drink heavy to forget the frustrations of working in this nation. No matter of the industry sector you happen to work the problems are the same. Hence I am officially back to my no drinking ways during the week and save my Bintang days for Friday and Saturday only. Lesson learn – better now than later.

An unheated pool, yet still so warm to the touch
A hot day, a cold beer, a moment to enjoy so much