Death Race: A Film By Filipinos

The other night my beloved wifey and I watched the last full show of the film Death Race (Starring Jason Statham as Jensen Ames) – because Wall-E isn’t showing anymore. And while on my way to meet up with her at the mall, I was thinking of the title which by itself is a no brainer. As it aptly implies, I presume that it’s just all about death and race. No more. No less. But wait…there’s more.

The moment the film started rolling, it immediately captured my attention with some of the words it presented on the silver screen and with some questions running on my mind along with it:

·         2012 in America. Will we be there by this time?

·         Unemployment. Will we be included?

·         Death. Entertainment?

·         Race. Will we be watching another live F1 soon? And when?

My wife, as I expected, started giving her naughty remarks (I always know that it is meant to intentionally annoy me) while I was starting to sink in to the story. But instead of hushing her, I myself made my own mumbled remarks in agreement. And as if those keywords aren’t enough to keep us related to the opening part of the film with its resemblance to our pending future, the opening scene also shows the main character getting laid off from his job in the metal factory. There’s chaos in the line of workers waiting for their turn to get their last pay. At this point, I was beginning to feel uneasy and I was somewhat praying to get over with the factory scene and show the death race itself.

A few frames more, the factory setting ended, thankfully. I did not mind when the succeeding scenes became tragic with Jensen drugged by someone in a ski mask and eventually becoming unconscious just to wake up with police and their hand guns sticking inches away from his face while trying to make sense what he’s doing with a knife in his hand and his dead wife beside him. Needless to say, that landed him in prison.

His role in the prison called Terminal Island became apparent when he was offered to participate in the famous Death Race since his record shows that he was a famous car racer years before. His acceptance of the part will be his way out of the prison facility with the condition that he will win the race. (Sadly, I didn’t catch in the film the reason why he indeed the said career and instead endured working inside the hot metal factory).

So just like any sane man offered to race for freedom, Jensen accepted. And this is where I started to enjoy the film. The main death race had several inmates as drivers and with their own armored, gun-mounted, and extra modified cars. Among them of course is Jensen who had to wear a mask in order to pretend as Frankenstein who was actually the famous death racer who perished in the opening scene but without the fans’ knowledge. The race is viewed online by fans numbering in millions with each paying at least $99 per view while the death racers outrun and “outgun” each other.

While I consider this as a B-movie, I actually applaud whoever was behind it. I’m now beginning to imagine that the people who conceptualized this movie are a team composed of Dana White’s men, ex-FIA officials, troubled American school kids, Twisted Metal (PS1 game) programmers and last but not the least – Filipino drivers.

Why? Because I find this movie a mixture of UFC fighters who are driving F1 cars with trigger-happy American school kids handling the Gatling gun’s remote button. Furthermore, the Filipinos here are divided into two sub-teams. First are those Jeepney drivers who loves to mount anything (such as horse figures, shiny CDs, LEDs, more LEDS, horns, antennas. Just to name a few.) on their jeeps – they are the designers of the Death Race cars. The other Filipinos are those who designed the weapon activation systems – which I wish I’m one of them as sometimes…just sometimes (wink wink), I wish I had those buttons inside my Mary.

Surprising as it may seem, I recommend this movie to let out some steam without doing any harm to the stubborn driver in front of you while stuck in traffic. Road rage alert. Watch out for bald male driver fumbling with the cigarette lighter.

Something Looks Familiar

This afternoon I was once again in the waves of ennui and surfing the internet trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my Sunday while feeling guilty of having to skip mass again and while also waiting for my wife to come home.

Emails checked. Multiply.com updates checked. Friendster.com scanned – not much friends in friendster (isn’t that an irony?). Favorites list scanned back and forth. Lurked forums done. Emails rechecked again for the nth time in just a couple of hours. Thankfully I’m free from mouse to keyboard ratio recording or I could be sending red signals to the ergonomics guru of our company.

Not really knowing how to bail out of my PC’s chair which is getting claustrophobic and butt-hot while I move the mouse aimlessly, I suddenly realized I was looking at Formula1.com’s interview with the recent winner of the Canadian grand prix, Robert Kubica. Having watched this last race’s replay (I was at work when it was shown live), I must admit that it was one of the most exciting I’ve seen so far this year. It was one for the books of fame and for the books of unfortunate events, which by the way F1 races will always be – even the famous Michael Schumacher has its own share of fame and shame.  This is the race wherein Lewis Hamilton rear-ended Kimi while on their way out of the pit lane - which brings the conspiracy theorists like me raise an eyebrow out of suspicion.  Hmmm.

Robert Kubica of course wasn’t one hypocrite not to accept the fact that he felt more hope when these two leading drivers crashed. It was not only his day to win but it was his day to lead the drivers’ championship with 42 points. After all, his consistency during the past races eventually paid off and June 08, 2008 became the day for him to be in the middle of the two drivers in the podium for the first time. It was the day BMW claimed the most coveted win of every races. It’s the day their sponsors have been waiting for…and wait, something looks familiar in the picture. Ahhhh…our company’s logo.

I’ve got used to seeing Mclarens and Ferraris (Renault, of course included) exchanging top positions for years that it took me until now to realize that right beside BMW’s logo is Intel’s. It may have something to do with the fact that Intel’s Philippine site is closing this year that I forgot to cheer my heart out when the whole BMW team was cheering and savoring the huge champagne during the awarding ceremony.

BMW and Intel’s win may have been late to be fully relished especially for us working for the latter, but as they always say, “A win is a win”. Now I don’t know if I’d be celebrating next time if BMW takes the 1-2 position once again. Hopefully yes.

Go BMW. Go Intel. Greetings coming from a Ferrari fan.

***

Frankly speaking, i never thought the BMW guys behind have any chances of winning a 1-2. Now, I stand corrected. Taken on April 2007 in Suria KLCC.

2008: Year of Changes?

I’m currently hooked to Dan Brown’s books. During my December vacation I borrowed a book from a colleague and brought it with me in Bacolod. On my rest times I tried reading “The Da Vinci Code” – and under some sort of scrutiny from my pious mother. Answering, “it’s just a book” still somehow raised an eyebrow.

On our way back home to Dasma after the holidays, we rented an airport taxi service and that made me finish the book while inside the cozy Toyota Innova (it cost us only Php 1.3K. Very cheap compared to availing Park n Fly’s service). That was at least a week of reading it. Not bad considering the other yuletide activities I have to attend.

Now I borrowed another, “Angels & Demons” and I’m almost halfway since I started it just this Wednesday. Other than the conspiracy theories that seem to have captured my attention and that got me to ask a lot of questions regarding its possibility, one line in one of its pages made me reflect of what has been happening around us since then.

Olivetti looked the camerlengo dead in the eye. “The prayer of St. Francis, signore. Do you recall it?”

The young priest spoke the single line with pain in his voice “God, grant me strength to accept those things I cannot change.” – pp. 169.

This prayer made me pause and reflect on the changes I’ve seen and observed since last month. Some I might expand but others would remain as a one-liner for others who knew about it to explain.

Dec (3^rd week). Our company’s shuttle bus provider for more than ten years was changed.

Dec 31. Just as the year ends come also the closure of our favorite restaurant – Saisaki ATC. No more sashimi. No more sukiyaki. I went back to the place on Jan 10 and to see it silent with doors locked and tables turned was a bit sad. I’m wondering where its crews have gone.

Jan. Video City, a video rental store near our place closed. Most likely it’s another victim of the proliferation of pirated cds. I’ve seen ACA video Dasma closed before during the peak of piracy and seeing a second one close is just disappointing.

Jan 18. Now the state of the old Bacolod airport is uncertain with the opening of Silay Airport.  I don’t know if Bacolod City’s officials are still considering retaining the old one or if they will totally phase it out. With the recent experience I had both during arrival and departure – mostly due to deceitful porters and taxi drivers – I couldn’t agree more if they pick the latter option. But then the innocent & honest employees’ jobs are at stake. Hopefully they’ll be re-assigned.

We are just starting the year and I hate to think about the things to come. I’m still trying to keep a positive attitude about what the future holds and whatever it will be, I’m hoping that we will be ready by then.

Que sera sera, as my mother used to say.

   

Trying to be Merry on Christmas

 

I’m now officially one of the Grinch. After 13 years of landing a job, last night was the first time I reported to work on a Christmas Eve. Normally during this time of the year, I’d either be in my hometown – Bacolod, or in Batangas celebrating Christmas with my wife and our family.

But then everything changes. And this year that change came to my career and left me no choice but to stand by it and be at work - technically, to role model. Ahem.

So yesterday afternoon I was actually feeling some mixed emotions as my time to go to work nears.  I was feeling excited for this first time event in my profession; and at the same time I was feeling uneasy and sad that I’d be celebrating my Christmas eve  without my wife or family with me. I’d be with my peers and people instead.

By the time I arrived at our plant, I can feel that the mood is surprisingly festive. The sight of employees with bags of gifts added to the holiday atmosphere.  The smiles and greetings are unwavering and infectious. Well at least whatever the reasons for the jolly characters, I know I’m surrounded by good aura for the rest of the graveyard shift.

Everything went the usual way just like any ordinary day when work kicked in. I was actually thinking, “Well, not bad. I can actually be a nurse, a pilot, a fireman, a security guard or a doctor on call…”or any other personnel who is expected to work even during the holidays. I felt like I’m not missing a big event or a love one. Well, not yet.

Break time came and a special dinner for all the manufacturing employees was served. The special meal was accented even more by a special dinner table setting. We’d be eating with candlelight. So by this time I was becoming even more convinced that working that night will be no big feat. I’m even starting to enjoy it. The sight of the lechon worked like a charm.

Right after dinner, I was back on my desk doing some routine tasks when I heard someone mentioned, “Sir Christmas na po (Sir it’s Christmas already)”. That’s when I glanced at the wall clock to see that it has struck midnight. The greetings around the production line competed with the humming equipment and audible alarms. I returned the merry wishes but caught myself faking a smile. I suddenly felt sad. I felt a lump in my throat.  I tried to contain myself.  And as if by a snap of a finger, I missed everyone whom I used to be with.

Probably this experience will stay with me until the next year. The feeling of having to choose between work and being with my love ones is a perfect dilemma.  Something’s got to give. And whoever said before that “Work is just a slice of life, it’s not the whole pizza” is mostly someone who can afford to sacrifice that slice. Unfortunately I don’t have the pleasure of doing so. When that day comes I’ll be the happiest.

Step in their shoes

We call them stupid, litterbugs, lazy, morons, dumb, a**hole and any other profanity that may not be even found in the dictionary. Sometimes we call them just insensitive. But aren’t we?

This week is one of the stressful weeks for me. Stress that comes from all sort of factors that even I wonder if I should be caring about it in the first place.

There’s the pressure from work that is a mixture of delivery and people management.  People who seems not to work and doesn’t understand what is expected from them.

There’s the tricycle driver who drives like as if there’s no tomorrow and would be so willing to include you in their death wish.

There’s the jeepney driver who would intentionally park in front of a No Park Zone to spend time to wait for passengers despite knowingly causing a traffic jam right behind them.  And the irony of it all is that it is in front of a traffic police or enforcer who looks like they have a worst case of cataract that blinds them of the on-going violation in front of them.

There’s the homeowners who refuse to pay their dues because they feel they’re not obligated to do so and who would sometimes reason out that they have problems with their finances but you’d find them smoking packs of cigarettes a day and would see their house lit brightly from Christmas lights and decors.

There’s the loan processor who doesn’t seem to extend a bit of customer care by giving advice to the applicant that his car loan application is sitting stagnant in his inbox for quite some time due to the lack of one simple signature.

And there are the street scavengers who would open up garbage bags and throw away its content in search of recyclables and never even caring to fix it back creating an eye sore in the end.

Sheesh.  The list could go on.

So today, while on a day-off I keep reflecting what must have gone wrong for me to suffer such stress. I can’t find any reason except that I too have been busy or that I could have been too self-centered or that I lack the empathy.

Most likely it’s my lack of empathy. Merriam-Webster defines empathy as, “noun, the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another.”

Ouch! I never knew Merriam-Webster could inflict such pain with its definition. I only experience such guilt during mass’ homilies. Understanding. Being aware of. Being sensitive to. Such words kept playing in mind just as caffeine would do to my bloodstream. It kept me awake, restless and uneasy.

Well, I have come up to some realization on my “stress list” above.

Just imagine not having eaten for quite a while and the only hope you’ve got is to pick and sell items at the junk shop in order for you to take your first meal after a couple of days. And with the other man inside the bus hating you just because you to failed to keep the street clean.

Imagine if you have to juggle payroll, separation payments and loan applications. Some wants their last pay and another one badly wants a new car.

Imagine if you have got a “really” sick kid at home and the only way to buy those medicines is to work double time by either driving a tricycle or a jeepney and optimize its capacity even with the risk of getting apprehended by a police officer. And one of your passengers is just thinking of traffic laws and having to get to the mall to kill time.

Sometimes the world would be such better place if we stop thinking just all about us. Sometimes we need to understand why people acted the way they do. With this we might be able to extend our help or at least lessen a bit of our expectations and in effect lessen the stresses in our lives. Sometimes we just have to step in their shoes.

P.S. I just can’t find any reason why a homeowner won’t pay their dues when in fact they are getting the benefits of the village funds. Ti abi.       

Contractual Employees Needed

Out of boredom last week I convinced myself, though “car-less”, to try watching a movie alone (haven’t done this for a long time). And so after a hearty lunch of Wendy’s Bacon Cheeseburger - with its bacon getting shorter & shorter every time - I picked Resident Evil Apocalypse out of the other three movies in SM Dasma’s homey cinema. It’s my day off.

In the movie, Alice is portrayed as just among several “Alices” bioengineered by the infamous Umbrella Corp whose employees are now living several hundred feet under a vast deserted dried land. At the surface are hundreds of undead characters aimlessly walking and waiting any human they can infect (or get even with).

After appreciating the fact that the movie started with Alice (Milla Jovovich) laying butt naked & wet in the shower, I unfortunately got bored with it. I always knew that I’m getting bored with the movie when I find myself thinking deeply while watching it. Yes this is a sign. Most people would consider it good but not me. I’ve watched The Bourne Ultimatum and I was just plainly immersed in it (I just shut off my mind, no thinking needed) that despite the Hollywood boo-boos, it entertained me nevertheless. That one was just better.

What caught my attention in that RE movie was the hi-tech underground headquarters. In there are blinking red, green & white consoles, most likely computers that would humble even today’s Quad Cores and a totally clean meeting rooms and lab.

So what’s wrong with it then? Nothing, actually.

But did anyone think where the technicians, janitors, laundry personnel & chefs are in that setting? Do bad guys in that corporation still need these employees to keep their covert operations running on a day to day basis? And do these bad guys require evil-minded employees as well?

Just imagine finding these classified ads:

“Umbrella Corporation wants you:
Engineers. Qualification: Must possess a degree in BS Computer Engineering or equivalent. Experience with an evil empire preferred.Chefs. Qualification: Must have cooked for Bin Laden. He/She should expect finding mutant mice running around the kitchen (if the evil lab technicians had a snafu).I’m just wondering if Payroll and HR is appropriate. Hmm, an aggrieved evil employee? Not applicable I guess.

Janitors. Qualification: Had experienced cleaning lots of blood. May perform some jobs with morgue personnel. And other than general trash, he may have to deal with disposing dead bodies. May be assigned to dispose non-performing Alices (I’d like this job).

Laundry Personnel. Qualification: Experienced washing blood-stained tuxedos. Must be able to press it properly in preparation for a spic and span evil officer’s meeting.

Barbers. Qualification: Must have good control of scissors and blades. Possible promotion to hit squad personnel if cutting is found precise.”

 

So there goes, whatever empire or corporation we are all in, they still need the blue-collar employees. Every one is still essential to an organization – from the managers to the grass root level. These suave, clean-shaved evil guys who attend meetings in suit and tie won’t even exist without the low-level employees.

Now I’m inspired. There are still lots of jobs around. Only if I can find that newspaper with Umbrella Corporation’s classified ads. Probably an evil newspaper boy is out with it…

D-Day: Job Interview

“Those who failed to prepare, should be prepared to fail” – (anonymous)

By coincidence, these words popped up on the noontime TV game show that my wife was watching yesterday, a day after my doomed job interview.

The new job adventure started out of curiosity and boredom on one good Sunday morning while we were browsing through the newspapers. The ads states “40minutes pre-qualifying assessment”. It’s from a call center agency (which later on I’ll learn that it’s actually a newly established call center).

If I remember it right, it was this year that I’ve started hearing all about this job employment. It has been the hope of most people seeking local employment, as most Filipino are still speaking fluent English than its Asian neighbors. At least for now. And just like any other things there is both the good side & bad side of it. The good: It is high paying. The bad: It is routine, and so therefore, immediately I conclude as boring.

Human as I am, the good part attracted me into it immediately. Although I know, deep inside that I’m not the type of person to handle phone calls easily, not to mention complaints from the other end of the line. That would be like challenging me to answer my own complaints over the phone. Most likely, “me” would have some long talks and argument with “myself”.

Anyway, on that sunny Sunday, I did took the 40minute assessment both over the phone & online. Proudly, I aced it. From that moment on, It felt like I’d be on my way to the call center business. A couple of days later I received a call telling me of the scheduled interview, which would be a week later.

D-day came and with my wife, we went on early to the place as instructed. This is when things would get topsy turvy.

We took the wrong way. We were supposed to take the shorter route (and with less traffic) but instead got stuck in traffic, thus missing the exit. But at this time, my spirit is still high as we still have the pleasure of time.

Next, a traffic enforcer flagged us down and he was claiming that I did a swerving violation. At this point I was praying to God to show me a sign that this job interview is still for me. Well, the enforcer was kind enough to give me a verbal warning and let us go in a jiffy.

Soon after we reached our destiny ahead of time. At least, we thought so. We were already sitting in a pizza restaurant and were waiting for our orders, when my wife asked if I’m quiet sure that we are in the right place. To confirm, I checked the notepad that I had in my portfolio & there it was. Scribbled on it was another address. Damn. I can almost remember the Amazing race desperate scenes on TV.

Once we got our orders, we had it packed to go and headed straight to the parking lot and to the right place. By this time, I was almost into giving up. And again, prayed that if it this is for me, then I should supposed to arrive on time. Good thing, there are still good people around and helped us find our way. The odds are high.

Thirty minutes ahead of the scheduled interview, we arrived at the office. I had to skip lunch and had coffee and smints instead.

My wife left me with 7 other applicants for that position (she waited & kept herself occupied in the mall). I was surprised to learn that there will be further exams prior to the interview proper. So with empty stomach but with full spirit, I took it.

The exams were actually easy. Most of it was English proficiency and a little math. The exam is timed.
The interview came and then the expected question came. “How do you deal with difficult people?”. If there was a camera inside that room, I knew, one would find me almost bursting into sweat just to answer it. It was not my forte. And I wasn’t prepared to answer it well.

There it goes. “Don’t call us, we’ll call you.” That was the last line I heard, and I’ve read that whenever it is mentioned after an interview, one can expect no call at all.

Although I still have my current job with me, this event tells me everything I’ve got to know. It’s been 10 years since I’ve applied for one & got accepted, and it may have given me the false confidence that I’ll be passing this one. I was wrong. Next time, I’ll come prepared.

Driving home, I was eating the lunch that I missed while stuck on traffic. It was a Charlie Chan pasta. I was disappointed but
that not really down. Still got my job. Still got my wife.

I was humbled.

Changes: Remembering and Learning from It

Walls taken down. Damaged concrete and dug up dirt piling up. Galvanized iron roofs ripped and tossed aside. Noise from hammers and chisels sounding almost from sun up to sun down. Dust fills the air. Diggings done here and there. Commands given, if not shouted, every now and then. Sounds like total chaos and destruction.

Well, almost. It’s actually some of the activities being done in preparation and during a house renovation.

During a recent improvement we did for our small home, the succession of events above brings me back to my childhood days due to several reasons.

One of it is learning on site.

I could very well remember back in the days when I was yet a grade 1 elementary student. We used to live far from school and our parents decided that we transfer just near where my sister and I went to study.

I can still vividly remember that since my father would supervise and sometimes help out in the construction of our new house, he had to build a temporary hut shelter for him and his stuffs and tools right inside our 200 square meter lot. By our countries standard, I think the average Filipino dwells in this lot size at that time. I love eating in the hut even it would have to be done by hand and had to sit on the floor to do that.

Every now and then after school hours, we’d drop by and play in the construction area. We would climb and roll down on the sand piles; run along the ditches where concrete hollow blocks and posts are yet to be erected; Play hide and seek in the unfinished rooms and do any other things that today I have learned as very unsafe. Just the thought of it now sends chills to my spine. And so they say, kids will be kids. Oblivious to the perils of daily life, or in this case the dangers present in the construction site. Thankfully, I didn’t learn the hard way.

Other things that amazes me back then are how the scaffolds are built, how the concrete blocks are horizontally and vertically leveled and how the hose leveler works. At that time I couldn’t believe and grasp the idea of how the workers would refer to the water level as the correct level for doors, windows, walls and flooring. Likewise, the smell of anti termite solution, paint, saw dusts and wood shavings never fails to fascinate me. Later on, I would learn from training that these are more considered as harmful odor (and particles) rather than sweet smell and one would have to wear masks when near or working with it.

Second thing that made me ponder on how lucky I am today is how young some of the laborers are that works in our recent home project.

The man that I got to do the job this time is Mang Narding. He has two sons whom I know are in their teens and yet are already working with him. I just hope that they’re in their legal age, or I’ll be guilty of violating the child welfare act. Or I can just pretend that this is also their on-site exposure just like I had or they have actually no choice but to work instead of going to school. Sadly, the latter is more likely the situation.

When we were young then, my father works as a “panday”, in our dialect, which means a carpenter just like Mang Narding. I just realized now that his job with its meager pay is just enough to support our family and even if I’d add my mother’s salary (who was at that time works as a clerk or accountant for a private business), we would hardly be able to continue our education. Even then, father didn’t require me to join him in his work even after high school. It has just dawned on me now, how both of my parents strive hard to keep us going from elementary to college.

During our school years, I can still recall that I had to asked for my “balon” or school budget daily because mother doesn’t want (or trust) me to have my allowance given in a weekly basis. Despite all that I was able to finish my schooling and was able to work after 4 years of college education.

My younger sister likewise graduated and we are now both working for one Computer Company but are assigned to different positions and countries. I’m still here in the Philippines, she’s in the US with her husband and a son.

I still hope and pray that later on, that Mang Narding’s sons will sooner realize that it’s not yet too late for them to continue their studies and hopefully, they’ll graduate and be able to help alleviate their parents’ situation and provide a decent life for their own family in the future.

As for me, I’m now even prouder of my parents. It’s a cliché, but without them, I won’t be where I am today. There is no doubt about it.