Chimney Woes & Wonders

We've just completed the slipform construction of the chimney in Iloilo.  Again, this is almost certainly the tallest structure on the whole of the island of Panay.

Under Construction

We managed to get off to a bad start.  The supplier for the concrete started coming up with a variety of excuses why they couldn't supply concrete.  Firstly it was because the cement hadn't arrived.  Then when the cement did arrive it was due to some paperwork issue.  Then they told us that they were restricted from operating for 24 hours, which for us is an absolute requirement for slipform work.  We were scuppered.  All dressed up and nowhere to go, so to speak.  Apparently (and there are many variations to this story) the local barangay captain (UK equivalent: barangay = ward/estate/district and captain = councillor) had decided that the noise from the batching plant would be too disruptive to the local community.  I'm not sure if he meant they wouldn't be able to hear their all-night karaoke and barking dogs over the noise of the batching plant-kind-of-disruptive.  Besides, the batching plant is located on the periphery of the district in a field some distance from the houses (and I use the term "houses" very loosely here) and our requirement is for 24 hour occasional supply, not 24 hour continuous supply.

In the event we were stood for 3 weeks trying to resolve this.  That's literally 3 weeks having to pay the entire workforce to do nothing.  But in the Philippines this doesn't matter because as a western company we have sack loads of money with bank notes spilling out of the tops laying around all over the place with nothing to spend them on.

What I failed to put across and get them to understand is that without a 24 hour supply we couldn't build the chimney.  Without a chimney there would be no power station.  Without a power station the local community would continue to have an intermittent power supply and some of the costliest electricity around.  Surely, 4 weeks of a bit of noise is a small price to pay for cheap(er) and a reliable electricity supply and a small sacrifice for the benefit of the whole city and island?  Besides, I'm having to go for 26 weeks without any proper sleep because of a multitude of barking dogs but no one cares about that.  This barangay captain, obviously a traffic warden in a past life, nearly managed to achieve what Greenpeace had failed to do and that was to prevent the power station from ever being built.  You can draw your own conclusions as to the reasons for the restriction, something I'm probably better off not openly speculating about here.

In the end we took a gamble and used an alternative batching plant on the other side of town.  It was a gamble because they were an unknown quantity and because they were on the other side of a city that had bad traffic problems at peak times, and the city had restrictions on truck movements during the day.  There were a number of other problems we had to resolve too.  To begin with they didn't have any money to buy cement (what kind of a business is that?) so we had to give them an advance payment.  Then the advance payment wasn't enough and we had to give them a further advance payment, all of which was extremely risky as if they had suddenly decided not to supply concrete to us after we had advanced them considerable sums of money we would have no doubt had a serious problem in recovering it.  

However, in the end they turned out to be wholly reliable and we completed the chimney in record time (97m in 19 days).  

Completed Windshield

In Days of Old . . .

When I first started working overseas there wasn't of course any computers and hence there wasn't any e-mail.  The only way to stay in touch was by writing letters as telephone calls were an expensive luxury reserved for special occasions such as Christmas.

On my first assignment overseas I went from someone who struggled to write even a Christmas thank you note to, I think it's fair to say, a prolific letter writer.  When you think about it, recipients of my missives generally only had to reply to me, whereas I would have a list of at least a dozen regular correspondents to maintain contact with, plus several more intermittent contacts.  Colleagues would often comment that they didn't know what I could find to write about but I like to think there's always a tale or a story in even the most mundane and routine daily events.  

In fact I miss writing letters: the paper; the ink; the envelopes and the postage.  Letters convey a certain personal touch that an e-mail cannot ever express.  Handwriting, with its errors and corrections, and in some cases its borderline legibility, transmits a certain personal care and effort that a series of electronic pixels (printed or not) cannot communicate, despite what computer font you might choose to use.  In a way it can be likened to the differences between film and digital photography.  Photographic film is the paper and ink and due to the cost and time element, care must be taken in composing the photograph, much in the same way time is taken in composing a letter, taking care to minimise the errors.  Taking the film to be developed is the equivalent of postage.  Waiting for the prints is the anticipation of a reply, and the prints are the the written response.  Digital photography gives the same instant gratification as e-mail but as I said, it still has its benefits.

The delight at receiving a letter through the post, dropping though the letter box onto the hall mat is, I'm sure, missed by many.  When working overseas there was always the heightened anticipation and excitement of the post arriving, and in certain cases the crushing disappointment when nothing arrived.  The post really was what most people lived for and those that didn't were more likely to go off the rails or go "bush".

Then along came (after some considerable time) the advent of computers and the internet and communications changed dramatically, largely replacing letter writing but with each process having equal merits and drawback.

When letter writing I found it quite difficult to write to several different people when telling the same news and repeat stories and maintaining an enthusiasm for writing.  As I see it, this is where the blog comes into it's own.  Like an open diary, I can write what I need to and only do it once.  Admittedly, it's not as intimate as an individually written letter or even a personally composed e-mail, but you have to make the most of what technology brings.  Besides, even if I did write a hand written letter, there aren't very many people in this day and age who would take the time and effort to write one back (for example, try buying a letter writing paper these days - and I don't mean A4 copy paper but proper letter writing paper - it's almost impossible).

Generally, I don't push this blog out to all and sundry but only to those who know me reasonable well.  Then there are the occasional cases where people get in touch and ask me what I'm up to these days and the perfect response is to direct them to this blog, and then they can read in quite some detail what's going on.

There are those who are genuinely interested, and I thank those people for their interest and support.  Then there are those that I call the Provincial Pub Man.  These people are those who say to you, when you appear after a spell overseas, "So, what's it like out there then".  Before I'd make the mistake of trying to explain but I quickly learnt that Provincial Pub Man isn't interested.  So I now resort to a simple "It's all right", and that's all they really want to hear.  In a similar vein there are those who ask the same question and I've directed them to this blog, but then they don't bother to take a look so like Provincial Pub Man I can only assume that they're not really interested.  That's fine and reading this blog isn't obligatory, but then I'd have to say to them please don't ask me again what I'm doing these days because if you can't be bothered to have a read and find out, then I really can't be bothered to explain when you ask again.

But recently I encountered on-line a different type of person, someone who I thought was a mate of mine and who asked me what I was doing these days, and so I referred him to this blog.  Within seconds he came back with the question "What's that crap?"  Quite how within a few seconds he had decided that nearly 10 months of what I'd written was crap is a mystery - he must be some some sort of gifted speed-reader.  I told him that he didn't have to read it if he didn't want to but pointed out that he had asked me what I was up to, and if he cared to read it what I'd written it would tell him.  Again he responded that he wasn't going to read it if it was crap: but it seemed he had already made his mind up.

Following this encounter I wondered if what I had written was indeed "crap".  Well, so what if it is?  No one has to read it and besides, I've received several complimentary comments so it can't all be crap, can it?

Then it dawned on me: of course he was rude and abrupt because he was reverting to type - he's Australian and rude and abrupt is what Australians generally do best.  Added to which, I think I could have tolerated his critique more if he had been someone as worldly wise and interesting as say David Attenborough, but with a life as shallow as a puddle on a pool table I don't think I have very much to worry about.

Second Best Thing About This Job

Another factory visit to Kaohsiung in Taiwan was necessary.  If I'm absolutely honest, it wasn't really necessary but I wasn't about to torpedo any chance of me being paid to escape the Philippines for a long weekend to spend time in my favourite city.

I arrived In Kaohsiung on a Thursday lunchtime and was met at the airport by mate Dave and his wife, and was taken to the hotel where I was to be staying.

The hotel was the Splendor which is located in the 85 storey Tuntex Sky Tower, which up until the completion of the Taipei 101 building was tallest building in Taiwan for several years, topping out out 1,140 ft or 1240 ft if you include the antenna. The hotel reception is located on the 38th floor with the hotel rooms located between floors 46 - 70 and so whichever room you are given you are assured of a great view.

Tuntex Sky Tower

Thursday afternoon was spent walking around the city exploring camera shops.  Whilst we were walking around we passed a dental clinic and as I still had a sore tooth I went in to see if they'd be willing to take a look.  After a short and quick registration, and discovering it was a training school, I was in the dentist chair being looked at.  At first the young dentist seemed to think that the tooth might be cracked so decided to x-ray it again.  She then went off and discussed the x-ray with the guy who was in charge.  He asked me when I was leaving and if I was planning to come back to Taiwan some time soon.  I said I was leaving on Monday and although I was planning to come back I wasn't sure when that would be.  The young trainee dentist told me that the tooth needed a crown as there was so little of it left but to do that would take several repeat visits.  I remembered that the the cause of the problem stemmed from the tooth being damage and effectively sheared in half along its length, which occurred when I was kicked in the face in a disco in 1974, so I suppose it's done well to last up until now.

As a temporary measure she said that she would replace the filling although she said she wasn't sure how successful it would be as there was so little tooth left.  She proceeded to do this (watched over by a couple of students) without giving me any anaesthetic and despite my trepidation I was surprised, not to mentioned relieved, that she didn't cause me any pain whatsoever.  After drilling out the old filling, which there seemed to be masses of, I could feel with my tongue a huge cavity and barely any tooth.  This was then repaired and I now have a nice, new, shiny white filling replacing the ugly grey mercury filling that was there before, all at a cost of less than £25.  Moreover, the pain has now gone so I reckon it'll be good until I find myself with some time to spare in civilisation when I can have it fixed properly.  

The factory visit was straightforward and all very amicable and as before I was met my the factory owner (Andy, to give his English name) in his classic Mercedes.  I love that car so much I'm definitely going to get myself one when (or if) I end up back in the UK.  After an inspection of the fabrication work for the chimney liners we went to visit the Andy's contractor that was doing the painting for the liners.  This involved, as so often it does in Taiwan, drinking tea.  More accurately, I should say the ritual of drinking tea.  The process of heating the water, the cups, the pot.  The adding of dried green tea leaves that look like thick, green wood shavings that swell up to almost overwhelm the pot itself .  Throwing away the first brew and using it to soak the cups and tea holder.  Once the tea has been allowed to brew for just the right amount of time in a small clay pot, it is transferred to a holding pot and then distributed to guests in little clay cups.  The Taiwanese can drink gallons of this stuff and I must admit, it is very tasty and refreshing to drink but my bladder has limits.

Kaohsiung City (From The Hotel Window)

From the factory we went to visit the Andy's brother, who is a building developer and we stopped off at a block of apartments that he had just completed in Kaohsiung city.  His brother wasn't my stereo-typical image of a developer but was a tall, thin, elderly, polite and softly spoken gentleman.  We proceeded to have tea in one of the apartments with his brother and friends and snack on tasty fruits that had been grown in his friends gardens and admire Chinese character paintings that another friend did as a hobby.  I was asked to eat a small berry that resembled a rose hip in appearance, but was under very strict instructions not to eat the seed.  The berry had no real taste to speak of but then I was immediately given a tomato to eat.  The effects of the berry is to make everything else you eat taste sweet and sure enough, the tomato tasted really sweet.  Quite an odd sensation.  Whilst the conversation around the table was wholly in Chinese (Hokkien I think - it definitely wasn't Mandarin) I was impressed by the friendliness and welcoming attitude everyone showed me.  After several gallons of tea we left and I returned to my hotel.

Kaohsiung Harbour

The remainder of the weekend was spent wandering around the city, window shopping, looking at more cameras, eating well and generally taking it easy and as always, I was sorry to have to leave.

It's Like Pulling Teeth

I've had toothache for a couple of weeks now.  It started when I went to the bat cave but has settled down since and has periodically given me some pain, or moreover discomfort. 

As I have no immediate plans to go to Singapore or the UK I figured that I should perhaps get something done here before my whole jaw explodes in severe agony, forcing me to do something drastic.  As the pain seems to centre around the tooth at the back of my upper jaw I recalled my dentist in the UK several years ago wanting to yank out my perfectly good wisdom teeth.  When I asked him why, he declared they would undoubtedly give me problems later in life.  However, I didn't see that as reasonable enough cause to whip out perfectly good and serviceable teeth so to his dismay, I didn't let him.

Now I'm wondering whether than decision has come home to roost?  Especially as it doesn't feel like a conventional toothache (if there is such a thing) but feels like there's pressure on it from the adjacent wisdom tooth.  But I've convinced myself that at nearly 50 my teeth would have stopped growing some time ago so this can't possibly be the cause.  Besides, the pain had gone from being awful to mildly uncomfortable.

Nevertheless, I had a quandary: I felt as though I should get it looked at but I knew finding a decent and hygienic dentist here might prove to be a problem.  Then a piece of grey filling came out with my chewing gum, which spurred me into action.

So I looked on the internet and found a recommendation and booked an appointment - although an appointment wasn't entirely necessary, all I had to do was jump in the car and go down to the clinic there and then.

Of course, my initial reservations weren't unfounded and whilst the clinic wasn't exactly dirty it didn't  exactly inspire confidence either.

The dentist asked me what was wrong then proceeded to have a look around in my mouth and poke about with a miniature, spindly crow bar, tugging and jabbing at the filling so hard at times that I thought he would dislodge it regardless.  He said he couldn't find anything wrong with it so he did an x-ray.  Nothing wrong with that either.  So he filed my tooth down like I was some thoroughbred race horse and that didn't seem to change anything.  He summarised by stating that if I continued to have a problem he'd replace the filling.

I left the surgery a thousand pesos lighter and thinking that I'd rather have Dr. Szell change my filling than give this guy a second chance.

Dinagyang Festival

I thought the festival was in the afternoon and so in having a lazy morning I missed most of it.  To be be honest I had limited interest so didn't properly research the event's start time, and was somewhat undecided whether to actually make the effort to go or not.

In the end I went but not until around 1:30pm, by which time all the singing and dancing had ended and most of the performers dressed as tribal warriors were on their way home or milling about in the street market posing for photographs.  Every other stall seemed to be a temporary or henna tattoo shop and the number of tattooed people, including tiny kiddies, was unbelievable.

Finished for the Day

Walking around I saw a pedestrian footbridge over the parade route that I thought would make a good vantage point for taking some photos but was curious as to why no one else had thought of using it as it was deserted.  I soon found out.  I climbed the steps and turned the corner onto the bridge thinking primarily about what I was going to photograph, when there was that unmistakable sensation of treading in something extremely unpleasant.  I looked down and the whole of the bridge deck was covered in mole hills of poo  - it looked as though it been used as improvised public toilet for the past year. Everyone knows how disgusting it is standing in dog's poo but it's difficult to describe the feeling of repugnance having stood in human excrement.  Of course, going up the stairs the smell should have giving me a clue to what lie ahead but then there so many unpleasant and similar smells about that you kind of become immune to it.  However, having stood on one "landmine" the stench released was gagging and so holding my breath I had to delicately tip-toe off the bridge to avoid standing on another.

I came down off the bridge and looked for some grass to wipe my shoe on.  I persevered with the event and wandered around the street vendors but couldn't really relax and enjoy myself as I was always watching out for who was behind me and/or who might be following me with a view to pinching my camera.  Of the vendors, those who weren't offering their services as tattooists were mostly selling barbecued chicken, pork or fish and not much else.  Or a few were selling souvenir tribal masks and trinkets.

Watching From A Safe Distance

On several junctions there were walls of massive speakers stacked up several yards high and set up facing each other on three sides.  Once they started up the noise (you couldn't call it music) was astounding and easily the loudest thing I have ever heard (no exaggeration).  When walking between one set I had my fingers in my ears and it was still incredibly loud, hideously painful and felt like it was turning my innards to mush and shaking my fillings out.  The odd thing about this was there were groups of young men stood rooted to the spot in front of the speakers, not moving, not dancing, not doing anything, just gawping at the speakers with empty expressions.  Without a shadow of a doubt their hearing would have been damaged.  Hang on a minute, I'm having a eureka moment . . . . perhaps that would explain why half of our employees don't do what you ask them: perhaps they're stone deaf and can't actually hear what you're saying to them.

Mugged and then Financially Gang Raped.

The fall out from the cancelled Silk Air fiasco has led to a chain reaction and has had further repercussions.  It was like vampires leaving the belfry upon sniffing blood.

I tried to cancel the connecting flight from Cebu to Iloilo with Cebu Pacific. Allowed but no refund.  I tried to reschedule it.  Not permitted.  So basically I've had to write off the cost of that as well.

Then there was the planned trip to Taiwan next week.  I called China Airlines, and if I asked once I asked a dozen times (sometimes v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y to make sure I was being understood) that if I cancelled my girlfriend's ticket I could claim a refund.  Every time I asked I was told I could.  Really, I couldn't have been more emphatic.  So I cancelled.  I was told I could claim the refund via the web site.  I logged on and went to the refund section and guess what?  No refund available.  By now I was losing the will to live.  And it was too late, I'd cancelled the ticket.

Next I called Philippine Airlines to cancel the ticket from Iloilo to Manila (to fly to Taiwan).  Cannot reschedule. Not permitted

Really, it seems to me that the airlines have resorted to some very sharp practices that Del Trotter would be proud of in order to boost their profits.

All in all I'm down by score short of £400.  And the worst thing about all this is when you try to pursue your grievance to try and resolve it you just come up against a stonewall of "company policy" or "there's no one here to deal with your enquiry right now".

It's odd though how quickly there's someone around when it's time to take your money.

Properly Mugged in Singapore

Over the 9 months that I've been working in the Philippines my girlfriend has travelled back and forth from Singapore on several visits. Without exception, and including the many trips I've made, we've used Silk Air (a subsidiary of the national carrier, Singapore Airlines).  This is for two reasons - good value and more importantly, good service.  We could've flown cheaper with other airlines but why forsake legroom and efficiency for a few dollars I say.

That is up until today.

Silk Air has a policy whereby if you make a booking for a person other than yourself (i.e. a third party booking) you must go through a verification process and produce a Letter of Indemnity and copies of your credit card.  Up until now, and being extremely remote from any Silk Air offices, I have faxed the form and card details through to their Singapore office and everything has gone as smooth as silk (as the airline's name implies).

Last Monday I went through the same procedure but as we don't have a fax set up in our newly established project office in Iloilo, and not wanting to handover the entire details of my credit card to some dodgy fax bureau for sending, I e-mailed copies to our Singapore office for them to fax it through to Silk Air.  Included on the form are contact details including mobile phone, e-mail address and of course the sender's fax No.  So if there was something wrong or adrift it would be reasonable to expect Silk Air to get in contact.  But this is the airline industry and reasonable is word that no longer exists.

I'd also sent them a message via their webpage e-mail, ticking the box requesting an response,  explaining the potential security risks associated in having to send my complete credit card details by fax as I had just done.  But I never received a response.

On the day of the flight, as she has done so many times in the past, my girlfriend travelled to Singapore's Changi Airport from Malaysia, also carrying a copy of the credit card verification documentation.  At the time she should've have been checking in I received an "Call me - URGENT" text message.

I called her and she was in a bit of a fluster.

"They won't let me fly", she said.

"Why not?"

"Because your credit card details haven't been verified."

"It's okay", I said, "it's just a misunderstanding"

I told her to go to the ticketing office where I would call back and speak to the Silk Air staff to clear up this.  I called her back and was put onto the girl in the ticketing office.  

"What's the problem", I asked.

"Your credit card needs to be verified".

"But I've already done it - it was faxed last Monday".

"We have no record of it", she said.

"But it was sent.  We have a transmission report", I protested.

"Which office did you send it to?"

"Errr, the one I always send it to".

"But without verification we can't allow your girlfriend to fly".

"Well, how can we resolve this because the verification was sent.  There wasn't a rejection notice so it must be in your office somewhere and my girlfriend has a copy with her".

"We can't accept her copy.  If you can come to the airport and produce your card that will be acceptable".

"I'm in rural Philippines.  I'd have to get a flight to visit any Silk Air offices.  If it was that simple I wouldn't have made a third party booking", I replied, getting slight agitated.

"Okay sir, we can rebook the flight for tomorrow".

"How does that help?  Oh I see, on a Saturday you don't need a verification", I said with a hint of sarcasm.

"No sir, you will still need to do the verification.  Your girlfriend can buy another ticket".

"Why does she need to buy another ticket - she already has one.  And oddly enough, she isn't carrying enough cash to buy another ticket as that wasn't really on her agenda on arrival at the airport as I've already bought her a ticket".

"Does she have a credit card"

"If she had a credit card she probably would've done the booking herself."

"Then I'm afraid she won't be able to fly - it's company policy."

"Okay then, is there anyone else I can speak to who can resolve this."

"We can refer it to the duty manager."

"Okay then, let me speak to the duty manager - ask him to call me back at on this number." (I was running out of credit.)

"He's not here.  He doesn't start work until 9:00am."  (the flight was for 9:05am)

"Well that's not very helpful is it?" By now I was becoming a little irritated and the phone was passed back to my girlfriend.

"Put them back on, please", I said.

"They're refusing to speak to you or me any more", said my girlfriend through her tears.

"What do you mean, they're refusing".

"They won't speak to you or me and have told me to go back to the check-in desk and ask them to sort it out."

"Okay, I'll call you back when you get to the check-in desk".

In the meantime I phoned my boss and asked him to double check that the verification form had been sent.  He confirmed that it had, without any problem.  It's a system that the office uses to book tickets with Silk Air so they were aware of what was required.

I phoned my girlfriend back but by now she was in tearful despair and told me the check-in staff wouldn't let her fly and were also refusing to talk to me or her.

There was no other option.  She would have to jump back into a taxi and go back to Malaysia.

I phoned our office in Singapore and asked the girl who does all the travel arrangements to find out from Silk Air what when wrong.

When she e-mailed me back I couldn't believe what I was reading: Silk Air had changed its policy and would no longer accept faxed verification of credit card details.

I hadn't seen that.  I went back to their web site and checked.  Admittedly, there was nothing to say they would accept faxed verification, but more importantly there was nothing in the text to say there had been a policy change and they would no longer accept faxed verification.  So how are you to know?  And more to the point, when I faxed through my verification did it not occur to someone in the Silk Air office to get in contact and say sorry, but we don't accept faxed verification any more.  So what's the point in adding all your contact details?  Or did someone just pick it up and say, "Ho, ho, ho, look at this mug" and then just toss it in the bin?

The upshot was I had to cancel the flight and to really stick it to me they deducted S$150 as a cancellation fee and then to twist it and break it off they also charged me S$150 for a "No-Show".  And when I queried this I was given that get-out-of-jail, all encompassing, slippery shoulder excuse: It's company policy.

I've always been a big fan of the famed Singapore efficiency and organisation but to coin a phrase of a former boss, this is rather like finding a turd in your salad.