I never imagined that at my age (forget the number), a gouty arthritis would attack me and not once but twice, darn! I remember how I hate the smell of “salonpas” (brand name of a mentholated plaster) which my father and sister chronically used for their aching muscles. Smells of “spirit of ammonia”, “efficascent oil” among others are the smells I thought associated with aging. Although, I am not afraid of getting old, we are all going that way; it is just that I don’t like those smells.
But with all that is happening to me, I just realized recently that my body is now paying for the abuses I have done into it. I have no discipline over my diet. I munch over junk foods. Cold colas quench my thirst. Fats energize me. Salty and oily foods keep me sane. Alcohol distresses me and shuts down my world for a while. What can I do? Veggies not even its colors and forms attracted my palate. It has always been meat (chicken, pork, fish, etc) that makes me salivate at its smell and sight (well this is exaggerated LOL).
With high levels of purines and uric acid in my body, there’s no way “a-sporty-active-me” can get back into the “usual thing I do” it’s just impossible with a swelling painful foot.
I realized that indeed “health is wealth”. You reap what you sow. I am slowing down my activities to enjoy life more. To witness each moment as it unfold right before my very eyes. Life is good if you go green (LOL). I’m enjoying now the fresh veggies and fruits without colas, low-protein diet and high in fiber. I am su
rviving without the alcohol and meat. And mind you, I now have stacks of mentholated plaster and other ointment for muscle pains. Sighed…
OMG help me survive I’m craving for “pork adobo/humba”, “lechon” (Filipino dishes), sea foods and a case of an icy “sunmig light” (beer)…toink!
Lady drivers abound in China. This is not quite a gender issue. You will find them everywhere driving a motorcycle, tricycle, taxi, truck and even bus. I was traveling outside my placement for official business. My colleague and I were seated comfortably in the bus waiting to start its journey. One lady came up and in a stern voice ordered people to put the luggage in their proper places and that includes the luggage of my colleague. Who could this lady be? We wonder. The lady was hot I should tell you. Tugged with her is a black and shiny lady’s bag. She wore high-heeled white shoes with some glittery in it. Sexy in her baggy trouser and black blouse that showed a liitle bit of her cleavage and her necklace. She wore a little make up and a shade of fuchsia pink lipstick. With her long hair waving along, I guess she had her hair rebonded and few highlights in it. Few minutes later, this lady climbed up the drivers seat. Yes, she was our driver. Our bus driver who is in command who shouts once in a while to the passengers. Beside her at the driver’s seat was her transparent make-up kit. At one of the stops, as the water tank was being filled with water, she changed her blouse. Now sporting a body-fit tops with a shade of avocado and with glittery in it. She’s even sexier now and I should say she’s the first driver in public transport I have seen with real fashion sense (LOL).
Body massage is one of the routines I can’t live without. I always pamper myself whenever I get the chance to do so. I love massage because it relaxes my body. The soothing sensation I get when the warmth of those fingers and hands touches my skin lifts me up. The friction when it is pressed against my naked body is refreshing and yes very relaxing. My placement is situated at the border of Burma and thus, Burmese massage abounds everywhere. Knowing this made me happy. One of the instances is a night to remember. Typical room is always well lighted. You can never find a dim one. Massage room is open and usually consist of at least 3-4 bedding capacity. At this view, I wonder how in the world I can be naked in an open room and with the lights on. At least back home you can always have a choice in an open room but at least with curtains if not dim lighted. Tea, coffee or milk was offered as a welcome drink. I was directed to lie down to the only bed left when I entered the room. Lie down? Ah ok…so I don’t have to take off my clothes or so I thought. The room was as noisy as the wet market as the masseurs and customers happily conversed with each other in the language I do not completely understand. The other room was also competing with the noise in the room I was in. I almost shouted – can you please shut the f..k up! I wanted to relax. OMG! It seems to be a never-ending “huntahan” while the others were busy on the phone. My masseur was tall, slender and beautiful but trust me she is very strong as she started to work on my lower extremities. Pressing, pushing, pulling, stretching hard I felt like it was some sort of gymnastics. She then started to grab my limbs, twisted, flipped and curled my body to the left and to the right. She then asked me to face down. Now she started her routines likes she’s working on the vault. She walked atop my body from slow to fast mode and on her final routine, she jump atop my rib cage before finally dismounting from my body. Tik…tak..tok…I heard my body sounded like there was a cracked in my rib cage. At that moment I was frightened at the thought that my bones were fractured and dislocated at this type of massage. The masseur still has routine to complete. Now, my 70 kgs body was atop her slender body. She pushed it in high heavens which looked like I was levitating shaking it to the right and to the left. She pushed it up and down. At the end of the massage, I felt like I was raped and tortured but I was intact and complete. My body was in pain. But the next day I felt so relaxed and light. The first time was followed by second, third and so on and so forth. I was getting used to it. I love definitely the gymnastics of being thrown out up and down, to the left and to the right.
Volunteering never bores me. I can truly feel now the term “Chronic Volunteer” category (LOL). I was in hiatus for quite sometime after my Nigeria experience and here comes China my third placement. From a distance, I saw myself, morphed into a being tested by time, ripened by experience. I felt I was ready to embark on a new challenge in my volunteering journey.
The Next Big Thing!
My first dose of being an instant celebrity made me high and drove me nuts. I realized “showbiz” is and would never be my thing – “naks ang kapal! (LOL). My work with Youth League entails monitoring the implementation of Youth League Leaders’ re-entry plans developed after the advocacy training I have conducted. My first monitoring visit was in a school. We are to witness the closing ceremony of the Peer Education training conducted by a Youth League Leader. Students at the gate welcomed us warmly. They played loud ethnic music and banged their drums. They wore ethnic attire and offered sweet wine placed in bamboo – the traditional practice. As we arrived, we were directed towards the room where the performance will be held. The newly trained peer educators were waiting and soon we arrived they gave a wonderful performance. Effort was there as they introduced themselves in English with others having difficulty in it. Of course, you have to give allowances, English is not the mother tongue. The performance ended in a candlelight ceremony forming a red ribbon. I was shocked after the performance ended as they were all screaming and running towards me asking for autograph. What about that? Yes, you heard it right an autograph signing ensued. It was too tiring and I was sweating in the cold evening. I felt ashamed at the same time because my colleagues, deputy directors, head master, and other officials were waiting for me outside. After the autograph signing I thought I was done. Photo shooting followed not only with students but with teachers as well. But I indeed gave my sincerest smile for the appreciation of the warm welcome they gave me. It was the evening of all evenings, it did not give me a good night sleep.
Never in my entire life had I imagined to be given such fame as that evening. I am very definite my destiny in not showbiz (LOL). But I have to comeback to the same school which gave me my first taste of fame for another monitoring. This time the school is conducting an “info-tainment” (Information plus entertainment show) participated in by students and teachers. This was again the initiative of the Youth League leader whom I am training to be a facilitator. We arrived along with the big leaders and we’re directed to seat along with the school officials. I was told by my translator that after the school headmasters opening speech I am next in line. I was a bit panicky as I have not prepared any speech having not known this in advance. But as boy scout I composed my thoughts and readied myself. My time came as they introduced me. I didn’t know I would experience that thunderous applaud like the SONA of President Macapagal Arroyo (LOL). I was really shocked as every sentence I utter, the crowd applauded wildly before my translator could translate it for them. Whether they understood my speech or not as the reason of the applause, that evening is a real history in my overseas volunteering (LOL). I just wonder what scenario I would be in, in my next shot at fame? Whew! (LOL).
Despite of what I went through in Mozambique, I decided to re-volunteer with VSO. I felt triumphant in my volunteering stint in Mozambique. I felt I conquered the world. In the deepest recesses of my being, there is a craving to be overseas again and telling me that there is more to volunteering. I need to discover this. I didn’t realize this would be the start of my “chronic” volunteering – a term coined by volunteers for those who are making volunteering as a career (LOL).
Nigeria is situated in West Africa. It is bounded in the West by Republic of Benin, Chad and Cameroon on the East, Niger Republic on the North and Gulf of Guinea in the South. In all honesty, I was not fascinated with Nigeria. But I was attracted and excited to live and work in a predominantly Muslim turf. I thought it would greatly enrich my HIV experience and I would be able to confront my biases and prejudices towards Muslims who are widely misunderstood. From experience of fellow volunteers, they described Nigeria as a “litmus test” for volunteers. Meaning, the conditions are harsh and will require resiliency and stamina to survive. Despite, the reservations I had, I accepted the placement in the Northern part of Nigeria, which is close to Sahara desert. I am sweating now while I’m writing this article, promise (LOL).
On my way to Nigeria, I was with other five (5) “pinoy” volunteers. Omens (bad) were persistent which at one point gave me a fearful feeling. Our travel was delayed for almost 2 weeks as visa could not come out on time. The other “pinoy” volunteers I am going with were also interesting as they display different personalities and attitude. It was an exciting mix. All six of us with only one rose look like a teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Bionic Men or X-men when we departed from the Philippines as each one us was tugged along with our “helmets”. Helmet was a serious matter and policy for VSO Nigeria as the country has the highest motorcycle road accidents in the world. Mind you, if you are found riding a motorcycle without a helmet, you can have your volunteer status reviewed or worst you can be deported. Imagine us in the NAIA with our hand carried luggage and the helmet (LOL). The bad signs won’t leave us as we have difficulty going through the immigration. We were pounced with questions one after the other. We almost missed our flight. We have to run to catch our plane. The journey from Manila – Bangkok – Frankfurt – Lagos – Abuja was a real fun. There was a drunkard who siphoned all alcoholic beverage of the plane like plain water. Arriving in Abuja was a real shock, we were greeted with “heat” I said oh my god, the airport doesn’t have an air conditioning system. I was sweating on my way out of the airport. The outside temperature is the same as inside the airport. With this scenario, I started to ask myself, “Will I survive Nigeria with this kind of environment?” A question I myself could not answer at that very moment.
After the short and quickie In-Country Training with brief pidgin language lessons, it’s time to get to work. The first night in Kano was the real test. After around 6-hours drive from the Capital City, I was directly sent to the office and got the chance to meet the “who’s who” and see how the office looks like. After an abbreviated chit chat – time to rest as it was already five (5) in the afternoon. Darkness started its shift. The driver left after I was thrown out in a place unfamiliar to me. I was starving to death I don’t know what to do. I was given a single room with few basic furnishings. Inside the room is a bed and beside it is the fridge, then a monolithic table, and a chair. A gas stove on the other side. The room was dusty which looks like it was not inhabited for quite sometime but there was a trace of human invasion (LOL). The toilet was common and it is not water-sealed, all you have to do when the nature calls is squat – no water needed. It was getting darker and darker and I just realize – “black-out”. Gosh! I started to cry in all honesty and started to ask what am I doing here? This accommodation is definitely way below VSO standard. I started to compare my accommodation in Mozambique which is considered posh by volunteer standard. I have hot and cold water, a bathtub, a spacious bathroom, a 3 bed-room flat, a living room and well furnished kitchen. I was told that electricity and water is erratic in the city. Let me re-phrase it you can expect electricity running once in a while – the most normal thing. I survived the night in a candlelit dinner with bread and I was sweating hard. It was an excruciating long evening. Oh I forgot to mention the running water is not running (LOL). It’s a “now you see and now you don’t” thing. The water is a bit brownish due to dust. It was a real survival of the fittest and elimination of the unfit. You have to learn to sway your move according to local beat. I have to survive I told myself. I learned some technique. The water comes around in the morning just in time to go to the office, goes out, comes back in the afternoon, goes out, and comes back around 12 midnight. The electricity comes back at around 8:30 in the evening and then gets some rest and then goes back to work at around 12 midnight sometimes a bit tardy and then gets off and gets back in the morning sometime takes AWOL (LOL). Also you can imagine this – you can wash your clothes at around 9 in the evening and by around 11 or 12 midnight you can iron it in time when the electricity comes – fabulous, isn’t it? (LOL). Although I really did not survive Nigeria for medical and environmental reason, It’s fun to look back how I survive each day. The evening is usually hot. I am basically naked all night long. I have to sleep using wet towel just to ease the heat. And one of the techniques I developed and proud to say a truly Filipino ingenuity for survival – I slept on the floor in front of the refrigerator and leave the fridge open and ON so that when electricity comes – I have a cool and fresh air from the fridge (LOL). How about that? After 3 months in placement, finally the rain came heavy. It was a big celebration on my part. Each drop of the rain that touches my body was a real celebration of joy and thanksgiving. I soaked myself wet, danced, sung, shouted for joy, lay on earth to embrace the gift of life. Never mind the brownish color of the rain due to dust (LOL).
Although my placement in Nigeria was cut short, I Indeed realized many things. I feel completely safe working in a predominantly Muslim area and organization. I was able to develop real good friends and meaningful relationship with local people who showed concerns of my being a foreigner. Despite of what I went through I am proud to say, I was able to deliver what I was supposed to share which was appreciated and they showed it to me when it was time to pack my things up and bid goodbye. My Nigeria account is the real experience in volunteering that makes life so unpredictable that will truly test your resiliency and creativity all in the name of development.
With the kind of placement I went through, I thought it would be easier to leave but I was wrong until the day I left Mozambique. I think everyone will agree with me that saying goodbye is always difficult and hard especially if we know deep in our hearts that we are able to develop significant and meaningful relationships in placement. The time has come for me to pack my things up and bid goodbye to all the people who have painted my life in placement with myriad of colors. It was a sad moment to see important people in “send-off parties”. But the young people who are members of the organization I worked with gave me a surprise and unrivaled send-off I had to date. Seeing people cry when I leave is a big NO-NO because I easily get affected. On the day I left Maputo, a local best friend together with three closest Filipino friends sent me off. We were early so I was able to check in without hassle. The waiting time was long and so we killed the time by chatting and discussing what is next after Mozambique, keeping in touch, plans for reunion, etc. People started to crowd the International Airport and busy going from one direction to another mending their personal matters. My gaze directed me to a group of young people that I was not able to recognize from the distance. It was my youth group. What could this people be doing here was the question running in my mind as we had a simple send-off celebration in my house for 2 days. I had no idea what were there plans but suddenly the group blocked the entrance of the departure lounge and started to stage a little drama or stage play depicting my life story in Mozambique. I was a bit ashamed at first, as I am not used to short-lived fame (LOL). People started to convene watching the performance. In the end they tossed me up and hugged me for the last time. It was a real heavy drama as they cried buckets. I was teary-eyed as well, touched by the gesture and E for effort. I realized that indeed I was successful in touching lives of people I have met in Mozambique. And looking back, I thought my life was touched more than I making a difference in theirs.
I always have difficulty in following the line “Destiny is not a matter of chance, but a matter of choice”. Maybe, maybe not…arrgggh whatever! On my first stint, I was offered 7 placements to choose from. Pakistan, Vanuato, Namibia and four (4) in Mozambique were part of the list. Going through the placement documentations, Mozambique was my best choice and priority. I was prepared to face head on the challenges that awaits me in the country once colonized by Portugal.
My placement was based in the capital city of Maputo. It is in the middle of a sub-urban community badly needing a running and functioning health post to cater to its basic needs. We arrived in Maputo as the biggest contingent that the Programme Office received. There were around 17 of us and we definitely represent the “United Nations” as volunteers came from Kenya, Uganda, United Kingdom, Ireland, Brazil, and the Philippines. The In-Country Training (ICT) lasted 6 weeks which include intensive language lessons on Portuguese. While in ICT, I was persistent in asking VSO as to when I’m gonna visit my office but to no avail. I was getting some hints and I started to become panicky over the thought that there’s something going on and I was kept in the dark. Torres Vermelhas or Red Tower where we were billeted for the ICT deserted with just a wink of an eye when the ICT ended. I was now on my own until I learned that “I lost my placement” even before I landed in Maputo. Aaagh! Did I hear it right? Yes, it was right. I almost collapsed. I gathered enough energy and collected myself. So what’s next? Coming from the land of “Lapu-Lapu” – quitting never occurred to me (LOL). I stayed in the capital city for three (3) months under house arrest short for doing nothing literally and figuratively. Consumed with my “vacation” in foreign land, I renegotiated my status and came up with a proposal. On the 4th month, I was thrown out in the northern province not as an exile but to do a cross-learning visit all-expenses paid trip by VSO. The supposed-to-be 4 weeks visit was cut short into 3 weeks because I was bored and tired with no news on the future of my placement. I have to do something. At the start of my fifth (5th) month, I finally have an office but without a clear job description. I was a nomad in the office having no fix workstation. I basically move especially if the office is flooded with visitors coming from wherever and that even on the last days in my placement, I have to share my table with the office radio…sighed. Despite all these, I can still paint a sincere smile on my face. It did not deter me to face the challenges because I know deep in my heart I was on a mission. Resiliency and patience are virtues I discovered while in placement.
Lost and confused by mere absence of clear placement description, I went out, met people and advertised what I can do and share. My initiative came to fruition - I found my placement. Three (3) Community-based youth and women organizations expressed their sincere need to capacitate them in HIV/AIDS Programming. I then developed my own placement and job description and submitted this to my boss at the City AIDS Council in which he agreed as part of its technical support to Community Based Organizations. I now became a roving volunteer of the three organizations. I was happy and doing well with the current job that I myself developed but “destiny was never through with me”. Somebody is planning to snatch my post (may nagtangkang agawin ang aking trono). Over my dead body (LOL)! “Pinaghirapan ko ang placement na ito, utang na loob, tantanan nyo ako!” (I’ve worked hard for this placement, for Christ sake leave me alone!”). One of the locals based overseas was quite interested in working with one of the organizations I am assisting with. For no apparent reason, this is the organization closest to my heart. The irony of all irony is that this “being” will work through VSO. I was kept in the dark. I had no idea at all that the “evils” were brewing up some wicked plans towards my placement. I was shocked when I received the news that this “being” (a.k.a VSO Volunteer) has completed all the pre-departure trainings and clearances from VSO Netherlands . In fact, the air ticket is ready as I was told. What do you think? Was the question asked by my Programme Officer on the other line. I was gasping for breath. You be in my shoes, and you will declare war! Again, I am from the land of Lapu-lapu and this is not the best time to surrender. I was in a fighting mood. In fact, I was ready to knock out any one who comes my way. To cut the story short, I won in this particular event. Gold Medal and a record holder (LOL). I fought all through out that led the Programme Office to reject this “being” (a.k.a. VSO Volunteer).
It has never occurred to me how privileged I am to have traveled from Africa to Asia until I landed in China. How wonderful it is to have a placement in a country touted as the next superpower. My journey in volunteering doesn’t and will not end after I finished my placement in China. It goes beyond placement. I’m like riding a bicycle where the wheels continue to move at my discretion. I consider volunteering as a tour in an unexplored territory. My tour has been tumultuous and still is but in all points of the journey like the wheel has its ups and downs and with that, I have the greatest adventure of my life.
My overseas volunteering experience has given me an endless account of professional and personal gains. But what struck me most is the display of reverence given to me by my colleagues, staff and especially the beneficiaries of the programs I handled. It is interesting and amusing that they can “label you as someone you are not”. Confused? Will tell you, why?
Labeling Me
The people I have worked and met in Mozambique consistently call and introduce me as a Doctor. Not that I do not like it. In fact, it was an unfulfilled dream of becoming one. Here in the Philippines (I guess, anywhere too), we have such a high regard of that profession - that made me a little bit awkward in accepting the title. This was the common introduction for me “Bom dia! (Good Morning) Como esta? (How are you?) This is Doutor Joel from the Philippines”. Doutor is the Portuguese term. And my standard reply was “NO I AM NOT A DOCTOR” And would insist another one “NO I AM NOT A DOCTOR”. In due time, I got tired refusing the title so when someone introduces me...this is Dr. Joel…My standard reply would now be “Aha…Muito frazer” (Nice meeting you!), sigh… But I did wonder why they call me a Doctor so I asked around. I learned that my course (B.S. Biology) is a 5-year course in Mozambique which needs a license to practice the profession. So that explains why.
Now I am in China. I design, develop and deliver HIV/AIDS related trainings to students (out-of-school-youth), People Living with HIV and AIDS, professionals and teachers. “Laoshi” is the Mandarin term for a Teacher. From “doutor” in Mozambique I now become “Laoshi” in China (Laughing Out Loud - LOL). Whenever training participants sees me, they greet me with “Laoshi ni hao (Hello teacher!)”… “Ei (pronounced as long a) ni hao” would be my reply with a big smile! Sounds like I am getting used to being labeled a different profession I am not.
On Being Me Sans Labeling
At one point, I felt like I’m losing my professional identity. But on the other hand, I also asked myself “Do I really have a professional identity”? (LOL). These are just mere professional labels and what is important is the significant contribution that volunteers bring to advance the causes of poverty and global disadvantage. The bottom line is the compassion and dedication of the service than the title of a profession one is carrying. One can have 10 titles after a name but is he ready for the challenges of an overseas volunteer? The rewards coming from a volunteer comes from the accolade of people in the grassroots, no salary, non-profit in everything – except the profit you get for getting fulfilled for serving the needy not only economically but psychologically and emotionally.
It is at this point that I come to realize that labels (in any form) are just labels. It could mean something great to many people but it can also be irrelevant due to the differences in language and culture. The local people tend to associate the value and the role volunteers’ play in a different working environment and culture to these professions.
You can indeed be a Doctor and heal people in many different ways or a Teacher and teach people with life skills – labels doesn’t matter anymore. Doctor or Teacher, the most important thing is the knowledge being imparted and the skills being transferred to local people in the hope of making a significant and meaningful development in the lives of those who are disadvantage. I think that matters the most!
Now I can be comfortable being a “Doutor” and/or “Laoshi” and God knows what next time I get my new assignment! Engineer would be nice, why not? (LOL)
I still remember the euphoria I felt when I was considered at VSO. It was a roller coaster of emotions. I was thrilled at the same time afraid for some reservations and fear of the unknown.
Going down memory lane…
Mozambique was my first placement overseas with VSO. Africa is a dream place for me and for no apparent reason, I imagined it as mysterious but beautiful. The thought of landing in Africa gave me an indescribable feeling of excitement. But more to that was the thrill of flying aboard Cathay Pacific. “Sa isip ko class eto, sosyal”. It will be my first time to travel overseas aboard Cathay Pacific Boeing 747. Yes, I can’t be wrong, It’s Cathay Pacific Boeing 747 bound for Johannesburg. How can I forget that? Ok, ok let me tell you. Back in high school, I delivered the class prophecy. In that piece of document, I was prophesized to fly aboard Cathay Pacific Boeing 747 from the Big Apple going home. I don’t know if it’s a mere coincidence or the prophecy was coming to realize…nah…forget it. The reality is I am going to Mozambique a place I haven’t even heard nor encountered in my geography class.
No Amount of Preparation…
No amount of preparation had kept me relax. February 12, 2002 was the big day. My emotions were mixed at that time. There were many things going on in my mind. It was in limbo. I was afraid at the same time excited because it will be my first time, you know. The pre-departure orientation was quite helpful somehow, with tips and advices but there was information overload. What settled in my mind was the 25 kgs of luggage allowance and that was it. I felt secured because I am going with a friend and fellow volunteer in my batch who will be posted as well in Mozambique. She is by the way a petite woman who exudes beauty, charm and brain combined. It was not her first time to travel overseas having had the opportunity to travel out of the country in her previous job. Having internalized all the tips in the pre-departure orientation, we agreed to weigh and re-weigh everything to avoid check-in hassles and thought where to get a weighing scale. We were at the clinic of Dr. Millette Baleva getting our last shots of boosters and saw the weighing scale. Using our charm, we were successful in taking the weighing scale out of St. Luke’s to a Pension in Ermita where I was staying and then to Pasig City where my fellow volunteer stays.
NAIA here I come…
I was definitely ready. Everything seemed to be in order. I was pretty sure, I’ll have fun on my first time. I reckoned it must be heaven to fly up above the Indian Ocean for 13 long hours. NAIA here I come! We were on time as agreed 3 hours before ETD (Expected Time of Departure. Our ETD was 8:15 in the evening bound for Hongkong and so we were there at around 5:00 in the afternoon, pretty cool. I should say my friend and fellow volunteer was elegant that afternoon in her dress with a shade of red and a black blazer. First tip from her – when you travel overseas you need to wear a formal dress that is respectable in other words “kagalang-galang”. I gave my nod and said I’ll do that next time. That time I was just sporting a casual wear and following the experience of others I wore 3 layers that day, a t-shirt, a sweat shirt and a thick jacket, whew too heavy and very hot I should say I was sweating. We checked in as a group to maximize our luggage weight. Everything at the NAIA that early evening was chaos. Everyone was busy with their own thing moving from one direction to another which seems to go nowhere but move. There was a long queue that we have to follow but I was a bit worried looking at our luggages. She has two (2) check in suitcases plus hand carried bag and some other things while I had one (1) big luggage weighing at around 28 kgs and a back pack as my hand carried luggage plus some other things contained in paper and plastic bags.
Culprit – Likas Papaya Beauty Soap…
Good Afternoon, Kumusta? – was our greetings at the check in counter with a big smile. We checked in our luggage through to Maputo City with a little explanation that we will be doing voluntary work in Africa for 2 years. To my surprise, our checked-in luggage tared at 80 kgs in total. Oh my God, I was shocked! How come? I was throwing many questions than she could answer at that moment. Fresh from WRV (Wider Role of the Volunteer Training) course, she tried her negotiation skills combined with charm, all the angles that she could muster were exhausted. “We are volunteers and we are bringing books with us” please allow us. We don’t have extra penny to pay for excess baggage. Can I speak to your Manager, she pleaded. It was a long discussions and negotiations we almost miss the flight.
The scene at the counter changes into a feast and charity of some sort (LOL). The airline spared us a total of 60 kgs as our checked in which I thought was not bad at all. Still, this means that we have to unload and leave behind 20 kgs from our luggage. Oh my god, how can we do this? First, we unpacked her luggage. The culprit - 48 pieces of Likas Papaya Beauty Soap. I can’t believe this. How can this be? The first thing that she had to give up was the big pack of Jelly ace. I can’t remember how many pieces I ate without really enjoying the jelly ace I used to enjoy. The mood was festive as I offered kids with Jelly ace. It was a difficult decision to make but she has to decide the fate of the 48 pieces of “Likas Papaya Soap” (LOL). Desperate and exhausted, She gave up at least 24 pieces of the soap. We have no choice, we have to leave behind one of her luggage containing things of lesser importance.
The clock was ticking. We have not passed through the immigration counter yet. It was 7:30 and the queue was eternally long. I was sweating hard I can’t contain my heartbeat. Imagine my three (3) layers attire that early evening. I am going to explode. I felt I need a toilet. I started to become panicky and antsy. We have to leave the luggage behind but the security guard won’t accept it fearing it might be a security threat. SOS, I called Lyn (a fellow volunteer) who sent us off at the airport for rescue.
Location please?...
Joel: “Hi Lyn, this is Joel. I need your help. Grabe ang nangyayari ditto I can’t explain it right now. We are now proceeding to the immigration. I need to leave one luggage. Where are you?
Lyn: We are here at the chapel, she replied…at the second level.
Joel: Ok, I am going out right now. Which chapel is that? Where is it located?
Lyn: At the second level
So I went up to the second level, looked for the Chapel and found it without difficulty.
Joel: I am here at the chapel now but I can’t see you. Oh my God Lyn, I am running out of time. I need to go now. I’m gonna leave the luggage at the Security counter. Just ask for it. I’ll leave instructions. Bye. Sorry and thank you.
We passed the immigration with few questions. We ran as if it was life and death. We were the only passenger everyone was waiting for. Everyone was seated comfortably, when we boarded the plane and everyone was looking at us like they wanted to eat us. We definitely looked haggard, torn out, gang raped (sorry for lack of word to describe it) – that was how I thought and felt at myself that evening. Everyone of course had the opportunity to stare at us as we are seated at the tail end part of the aircraft - how about that?
When the plane finally took off, we were just silent. I was recalling what had happened. Everything went quick and fast. Finally, we had started to settle down. Suddenly she apologized and cried for spoiling my “first time”. I can’t help but replied. Nah…it’s okay.
“Wow Mali”…
Few days after, we communicated with VSO Bahaginan and our sigla group (our batch name) that we arrived safe, sound and complete and shared our unforgettable experience. Indeed, everything was “wow mali” that day as we learned that lyn and company were actually at the NAIA terminal 2 while we were at the terminal 1 – how about that? (LOL).
As they say, there is always “first time”. And whether good or bad, will always leave an indelible mark in our mind. They make our experiences in life richer.
rviving without the alcohol and meat. And mind you, I now have stacks of mentholated plaster and other ointment for muscle pains. Sighed…
