The first time I met him was during the preliminary interview. He was sent to Manila to screen the applicants for the position I applied for. I can distinctly remember the blue polo he was wearing because it had floral designs. He reminded me of Lito Atienza's Hawaiian inspired polos.
Anyway, when the headhunter representative said that the Chief Financial Officer was to interview me, I was expecting someone who would be in his 50's. Someone older.
He came to the room smiling. I was a bit nervous because it was my first job interview after so many years. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw him. He was young. He was about my age. As it turned out, he was only 39, just 4 years older than I was.
His first question was, "Tell me something about yourself."
Hah! The standard interview question. With my I-can-speak-English-pretty-well attitude, I started to tell him about myself focusing on my passion for writing and my love for travelling. I think he ran out of English terms (read: naubusan ng english. he!he!) so he shifted to Tagalog. Oh, well, then I started to speak in Tagalog too. The interview was like talking to an auditee.
He said that he used to work with my bank too, so we started to talk about people we know.
Him: "Kumusta na si Ms. Area Head?"
Me: "Ay, nag exit-conference ako with her a few weeks back. I audited one of her branches."
Me: "Sino ang mga nag-audit sa branch mo dati."
Him: "Si Cecile. Yung maganda pero maliit na auditor. Si Pinky, yung serious..... (Smiles) Bagsak nga ako palagi sa audit eh."
The interview went well. I never gave it much thought. I was too detached to focus on it.
To make the long story short, I got the job. I passed the final interview (with the President and the Chairman of the Board). My Fellow Contract Worker started sending me e-mails. He was asking about the interview. If I gave my resignation already. My preparations. The tone of his e-mails were solicitous. I thought, "He seems to be a really nice person."
When I arrived here in Saipan, he bacame my constant companion. An adviser of sorts. He said he knew about cars (he had 2 in the Philippines before) and he has been driving for 15 years. I didn't know anything about cars, so he would offer me advice on what car to buy. For almost a month, we would scout every car dealer in the island looking for the perfect second hand car for me. Something that would be nice and would fit my budget. Little did I know that everything would lead to the traumatic and I-shed-a-bucket-of-tears episode of my Saipan adventure. (Many months have passed but I would always wonder if I was deliberately led to it or not.)
He became my constant lunch (and sometimes dinner) companion. At lunch, we would trade stories about our former bank. He would tell me stories about his life in Saipan. His experiences as an OFW. The not so wonderful experiences he had with the Chamorros (specifically with the boyfriend of one officemate and the attitude of his staff). His plans for the bank. His plans for his family and his personal life.
I would share with him my opinions about certain issues. I would probe into his stand on religion (not a very good topic to discuss), gender issues and feminism, office politics. We would discuss about movies and films. He could talk and the most interesting conversations I had was with him. We would have differing opinions and sometimes he can't explain his points of view very well (specially about gender issues) but he's the only person whose mind came close to mine. Yet, there would always be a certain wariness on his part. I can't quite figure it out exactly. He would resort to technicalities and word play when certain issues are raised. Sometimes he would send me biting text messages about how to do my job. I wonder what his motivations are. I would text back answering the messages using the tone of a docile child, or a Gabriela Silang or a detached unmotivated yuppie depending on my mood.
On a personal level, he would tell me about his latest conquests (his girls of course!) while chatting on the YM. He would text me about how his gimmick went (which usually starts at around 10pm and would last till wee hours in the morning). Sometimes, he would come to the office with blood shot eyes and fresh-out-of-the-bed outfit. He would wait until lunchtime so he could take a nap or go home early so he could catch some sleep. I should not care. It's none of my business but I was concerned on how the Chamorros would view us. We were the only contract workers in our company and we came from the same bank in the Philippines. If I tell the Chamorros the kind of discipline we had with our former bank, would they believe me? They would just look at my fellow contract worker and conclude that I am lying. So, I try to live up to the image of a professional banker. I am straight as a rod in a world of crooked ones. He was self-destructing right before my eyes.
I would quietly listen to his stories and be interested in them. I would listen as he tells me why he didn't go to the office.
Him: "I wasn't feeling very well."
Me: "Again? Why?"
Him: "I feel demoralized."
Me: "Well, we live and have to deal with the way corporate politics move here, so let's just do what we have to do."
Him: "You know what? I stayed in my apartment the whole day and cleaned it."
Me: "That's good." (I remember my earlier days in Saipan when my apartment is so clean because I don't have anything to do and was so bored to my bones. I would clean and scrub my bathroom till my hands are raw.)
Him: " I scraped all the paint spots on the floor. I used a knife to do it. All the time, my mind was flying."
During these times, my heart would just melt for him. He and I are on the same journey and I understand his plight perfectly. But the next day, he would be up and about as if nothing happened.
I have this theory that he's just midlifing. He's your typical Pinoy macho and although he tells me all these experiences, I wonder how he truly feels about it deep in his heart.
These past few months, he has built a wall around him and I have started to build my own circle of friends too. We have created and followed different paths yet his experiences are still closest to my own(except for the night outs and gimmicks of course). I could relate to him because we are so alike in more ways than one. We move in the same world of accounting. We came from the same disciplined and ultra-conservative financial institution that helped shape our work ethic. We get shocked at the strange (for lack of better word) financial environment of Saipan.
I tell him, "Being alone could be a very spiritual experience you know. Being alone does not necesarily mean that you are lonely. We learn a lot about ourselves when we are alone."
I don't know how he processes personal thoughts. He holds back often. I guess he thinks I am too nosy.
He may have done many things that I better not tell you dear reader, but you see, my fellow contract worker is one of the many faces of the Pinoy diaspora. He left the comforts and security of his job. He left his family to pursue the mighty dollar. He had screwed some things (and people too!) here in Saipan and he has decided to stay for another year or two. I know he will thrive here and I could bet on that.
But life has very strange twists and turns. I could only wish him well.
Note:
My Fellow Contract Worker has decided not to renew his contract in January 2007.
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