Bits and Bobs

The weekend in Taiwan was followed by a weekend in Singapore/Johor Bahru. Two weekends in a row in very pleasant and relaxed places makes coming back to Toledo all the harder. It was good to be in the company of friends and colleagues from the MBS project (where I previously worked) and it was relaxing to be in JB.

The night before I left Singapore to return to Cebu ended up as a bit of Guinness binge. Nothing over the top but the conversation was flowing and the beer was going down nicely and we ended up having around 8 pints each. But it was all nice and steady so it's not really fair to call it a binge.

Being in the company of friends and others of my own ilk and nationality reminded me that the lack of meaningful conversation can be one of the most difficult aspects of working oversea, especially if you're the only expat in an environment full of locals. It can heighten the feeling of isolation and remoteness. The ability to share humour and in particular banter is difficult, if not impossible to find in those that speak a foreign tongue. Whilst the locals may speak relatively good English, the conversation is usually functional rather than living, possibly because we don't share the same interests or culture. Attempting humour with those that don't speak your language is risking embarrassment or at worst, offence, so it's best avoided in my experience.

During the early hours of the morning before my flight to Cebu I awoke several times with the sore throat from hell. Was I developing swine 'flu? Where had I caught it from? Was it that little uncontrolled brat in the Cebu departure lounge coughing loudly and openly without making any attempt to cover his mouth? Actually, I call him a brat but he was with his father who made no attempt to control his actions, which to my mind makes his father much worse. I was hoping that my hosts in Singapore that night didn't catch it as well as they were heading to the UK for a family holiday and I don't want to be the one responsible for ruining their trip.

At the airport the sore throat persisted and flu symptoms were developing. Hot sweats, cold sweats, runny nose, sneezes and body aches were present. I'd read over the weekend that Swine Flu usually started with a bad sore throat so I'd convinced myself that I'd picked it up in Singapore, having also read that there had been a number of local fatalities, although the 'flu was a contributing factor to those who were sickly and in ill health already. I'd also read that for healthy people it was usually over in 4 to 5 days so even if I did have it I wasn't particularly concerned.

But what did concern me was the controls in place at airports throughout Asia, checking for those potentially infected. If the heat imaging thermometers at Cebu Airport picked me out as a potential H1N1 grim reaper, what was to become of me? They couldn't send me back to Singapore where I came from as I don't belong there and Singapore was unlikely to accept any 'flu refugees from other countries. I had visions of becoming a persona non grata, destined to be placed in isolation in a sterile plastic bubble in the no-mans'-land between passport control and the flight gate until I was cured.

However, my fears were unfounded. As I walked past the thermal imagers I glanced back at my image and I'm sure I was glowing brighter than everyone else but there was no attempt to stop me. I was also given a health declaration to fill out and sign stating that I was feeling no ill effects. Sore throat was one of the conditions that had to be declared but I convinced myself that they weren't referring to the type of sore throat I had.

This week tropical storm Jolina has been present in the South China Sea. The result has been not one iota of sunshine for over a week, grey skies and copious amounts of rain. This kind of weather makes an already bleak place pretty wretched, especially the site which now resembles the Somme on a bad day.

I've now managed to buy some CDs that I've transferred some music onto so I no longer have to listed to my driver's Blah, Blah, Blah music. However, with this has come another downside. As my driver doesn't know the words to the music now playing he can't sing along so he whistles. His singing wasn't great but his whistling is dire. Firstly, he can only whistle one note, secondly it's at pitch similar to finger nails being dragged down a blackboard and thirdly it's all completely out of time with the music.

It would also appear that he has developed Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, similar to those that can't tread on the crack in the pavement, except my driver can't drive over cat's eyes on the road. This means he veers suddenly when crossing the centre of the road to avoid driving over the cat's eyes. So my journeys these days consist of being thrown violently about from side to side whilst listening to his torturous whistling.

Really, you can't win.