Holiday Syndrome

Holiday Syndrome is a common medical condition where people is more pron to forget things and exercise poor judgement. It impacts the entire population and the only known treatment is work. Take for example, Christmas ( I am not so sure I am allowed to say Christmas anymore,  luckily very few people read this so hopefully I can stay out of trouble ). People make all sort of promises of loving again their mothers and brother is law, to join the gym and or becoming an "influencer" (it is easier than trying to be a rock star, at least you don't have to pretend to have any talent ) . But they immediately forget about all of this within a day or two of having made the promise.

Another very common symptom of the syndrome is confusion. Not remembering exactly what they are suppose to do on the holiday. Picture Halloween as an example, it is now a Carnival instead of an homage to dead people.

And don't forget about Easter, which is now all about hunting chocolate eggs. Maybe It is a way to help kids locate the 12 station of the Cross. I should consult with my local pastor or "chocolatier" for guidance.

Although the most confusing holidays are in the Anglosaxons countries, where they pay respects to Banks. Yes Banks. The Bank holidays are in honor of those who have your money, own your house and rate your life choices (Credit rating is the equivalent of a life sentence ) If that not confusing slavery with adoration I don't know what it is.

Other common symptoms of Holiday syndrome are: falling in love deeply with idiots ( more frequent in women), getting embarrassing tattoos ( studies suggest that Aussies have the highest incidence ) or tennis elbow ( after so many cheers with the beer jars in the beach bar )

But the holiday that confuses people of the most are the Birthdays. I mean, I love celebrating it but what merit one has on it. Shouldn't be a day to honor our Mums that carried us for 9 months ( 8 in my case, I guess I was a nuisance even back then) and suffered giving birth?. Instead we get mad at then if they forget. Seriously there is something wrong with our society values. And I am sure you have someone close to you impacted by the birthdays memory loss where people forget their real age. It is easy to identify as the subject always pretends to have less age than in real life.

Talking about year celebrations, I much prefer the old Spanish way. You know in Spain we love our Fiestas, therefore why celebrating one day a year when we can do twice. That is why we also have the Saint Day. Yes, you celebrate the Day of the Saint you have been named after.

Basically a Saint Day is like a birthday. You get presents, cake, congratulations and so on. In my family was even bigger than the actual birthday. Forgetting about the birthday was not a sin, but if you missed the Saint Day, family will be holding a grudge for sure.

There were that great, that my older brother tried to abuse the system, and since they were several Saints in the calendar with his name, Vincent, 13 different ones to be precised, he claimed that he could celebrate the day 13 times. Growing up I always wonder if naming you kid Vincent will mean setting him up for a life of misery as so many of them were eligible for Sainthood.

So, in order to resolve this family discussion, which trust me, lasted for a few months as my clever brother managed to build a solid argument, our parents come up with this last minute rule that in those cases you had to choose only one Saint, the one you feel more identified with and stick to that one forever. Almost fifty years later, I believe my brother still haven't chosen his Saint.

But Saint day is also a dangerous tradition. Originally you were named after the Saint of the day you were born. And that is like a Russian Roulette, because you cannot believe the weird names that some Saints have. I can imagine some poor mothers holding their breath to delay the labor a few hours to ensure their baby was born with a more pleasant name and avoid the kid a childhood of mockery in school. Hollywood seems to have taken this tradition and given it a new meaning. Instead of naming you kid after the Saint they now name it after the first thing they see in the room, hence the results.

So lessons learnt here. If you go on holidays enjoy them before you forget them and pick a Saint in case you need protection or your name your child after your holiday tattoo artist.

Hallelujah! the engineer is here

In recent years, Hollywood has tried to show us that some of the before considered dull professions could actually be exciting. Fronting that trend, are the lawyers, often portrayed as a mix of Sherlock, James Bond and Casanova. By the way why do they always  have a bottle of whiskey in the office? Is that a thing?

But lawyers are not the only re-invented profession,  recently they even tried to make librarians interesting. There is actually, an action TV show dedicated to them, although this could be actually true, let's face it, who has been in a library in the last 10 years? ( and no, Netflix library does not count)

So, taking the lawyers and librarians out of the equation, that leave us engineers as the single most boring profession on Earth.

And yes I am not going to deny it: an engineering office can be as exciting as a funeral parlor, but don't judge a book by its cover ( sorry for that easy pan, its my jealousy to the now "cool librarians" kicking in).

Engineers may look dull, badly dressed ( I will dedicate a full post about the engineering fashion sense soon) but that make us the perfect cover identity for super-heros. We are the Clark Kens of our time, but since there are no telephone cabins anymore we cannot change into character and that is why people don't see it.

An engineer needs to be ready for any situation. You never what is going to happen. Just because you are an engineer you are suppose to be able to fix anything.

I still remember my College years, with Mum complaining that she was wasting the family money in my University education as I could not fix her washing machine. It was not easy to explain that although the tumble dry program and an aircraft turbine sound more or less the same, there are a few subtle differences. But I must admit she may had a point, and I would probably be making more money being a appliance technician than an engineer, and she could have enjoyed a holiday in the Caribbean with the savings.

Being an engineer is also not that far from being a politician.  You are suppose to provide an answer to any topic they throw at you even if you have no idea. Sorry, I don't know how to explain the Big Bang or why the Jonas brothers split up.

A few years back in one of my multiple trips to South Africa had the opportunity to experience this first hand. I was told I had to do a site visit to an airport the government was keen to show as example of their investment.

So there I was driving several hours cross country to reach this remote idyllic village of Bhisho.

Little I know what was in store for me. When arrived at the airport, a large crowd was outside. Ladies wearing their colorful Sunday dresses and men in their traditional attire. Not your typical welcomed committee. Soon I realized there was no technical site visit but a community day where the entire village was invited to the airport to visit the airport and have a lunch there.

Before I could tell my colleague to leave, we were greeted by the local Bishop and invited to be seated while the local Church Choir was introducing the session with an upbeat African Spiritual Song. At that moment, I resigned to stay and enjoy the experience. Day was already wasted and there was nothing I could do about it so at least I would be getting a good local meal.

But that was not the end of the story. Somebody (Ten years later I am still trying to find the guilty part to plot my revenge) has told the authorities that I was an international renown aviation expert and had to address the crowd ( if they only knew...)

The Tribal leader and the Bishop started their speech in Zulu and suddenly my colleague kick me with her elbow and look at me with a big smile in her face.

"You are to do main speech, the entire village is here for you", she said. Since I was still enjoying in my head the Choir song I didn't fully understand her words. But few seconds later the Tribal leader announced my name and crowd started to cheer in excitement.

I panicked and grabbed my laptop. A laptop is to an engineer like the cape to Superman. It could also be used as a shield if people started to throw thing at me.

During those long 30 meters to the podium I felt like a dead Men Walking. The fact that the Choir decided to go for a soulful song at that moment, didn't help. And while I was asking why me, I was trying to understand what I was suppose to say to the audience. Shall I talk to them about my childhood? How much I like the south african braiis? Should I join the choir and sing?

Despite my shaky legs, I managed to reach the podium and I smiled. Smiling has been always my forte. Shacked the hand of all local authorities and tried to connect my laptop to see if I could use any of my presentations. Pretty pictures always help.

Murphy's law connection didn't work. This is another misunderstanding with engineers. I may know how to design things, but not necessarily how to make them work. Luckily the Choir was quick to lend me a hand and started singing while I was fixing it. There I was, sweating while the crowd was in full Gospel mood.

Song ended ,but laptop had decided to re-start to download some updates. I am small, but not enough to hide of embarrassment behind the podium. Again I was saved when the Bishop waved his hand to the Choir and they started to sign again. Thank God they had a long repertoire as it took me three and a half songs to make it work.

Finally, all technical issues were sorted and I was ready to start talking about the wonders of airport planning to the community when a voice in the crowd shouted Hallelujah!!

Immediately the entire room responded in excitement Hallelujah! ( the engineer is here)

PS. Perhaps if my Mum had more Faith in me, I could work a miracle and fix her washing machine.

Eat Pray Queue

I recently saw, on my last flight, the movie Eat Pray Love, and I must admit, it disappointed much less than expected, maybe because it features Bali one of the places in the world I love the most ( by the way forget the Volcano and go there if you haven't done it yet) but I also must confess that I disagree with several premises of the movie, or to be more specific with all of them.

First one of all, may shock your pre-conceived ideas about the world. But the movie shows it in all its cruelty: Mediterranean food is fattening.

If you have seen the movie, how can anybody forget that dramatic scene in Southern Italy, where the two main females characters are forced to buy a larger size of jeans because of the Italian food. I always wonder why Julia Roberts did not win her second Oscar after the intensity of that moving scene. More powerful than Gone with the Wind. But lets face it, the premise that she comes from the US but she gets fat in Italy is more unbelievable than Javier Bardem trying to portray the caring romantic type.

After watching the movie, doctors around the world are re-writing the recommendations and banning the Mediterranean diet to their patients.

Second premise of the movie is that you go to Bali to find love. That is really hilarious unless you like Balinese people of course, one of the most beautiful souls in the World, inside and outside. But lets face it, apart from amazing locals, beautiful beaches, landscapes, food and of course tons of temples, the main thing you find in Bali is tourist in tank tops and who can fall in love with that.

Tank top is that piece of clothing that some men believe is as sexy and revolutionary as Mary Quant's Short Skirt was in the 60s. It has done more damage to the image of Bali than the over-development and anarchic construction. I believe the local government is considering a Tank Top tax to dissuade Aussies ( sorry for the typo, I meant users) and protect the environment.

The final premise of the movie is that you go to India for its mystical allure. My humble ( and not so humble ) opinion is that you have not experienced India essence till you have been on a queue. Forget about the Secret Temples and their Mantras, the Taj Majal , the beaches of Goa, the mountains of Ranchi or the amazing food. Queuing is were you will have that intimate mystical experience that the hordes of millennial tourists desperate seek when in India.

And by intimate , I mean literally. I believe my next house will be a tiny home after I survived the lack of personal space in my last few queues at the airport.

Queues are underrated. You can say a lot about a country by observing their queues. In Singapore people respect the line religiously aligning themselves to the markings on the floor ( no explanation needed). In Spain, people are required to ask who is the last one in the queue when entering a shop, otherwise your actual presence will not be considered sufficient evidence at the trial and right to order at the counter will be withdrew. If you thought Inquisition was tough, try entering a queuing dispute in Spain. It is more risky than introducing a new ingredient to a Paella dish. Ask poor Jamie Oliver about it ( check this link if you don't believe me )

The Indian case is worth an anthropological study. Indian people are polite and friendly by nature, and yet when it comes to queuing not even a century of British rule can calm their basic instincts. In the land were arranged marriages used to be a norm , your queuing partner will stick to you ( literally ) till your reach your destination.

He will be  "coaching"  you through the experience ( for those who does not know what coaching is, it is what any parent or good friends normally do when you need advice, but for people who basically don't have any friends).

Your queuing coach will help you navigate the intricate paths of Indian queuing and will teach valuable life lessons, the most important of all: a plastic tray at an airport security queue is the most valuable commodity. It is like the Hand that Rocks the Cradle. Whoever grabs it first, rules the world (or at least the queue).

So, a few lessons learnt today, if you want to eat healthy go to the McDonald, save some money to buy t-shirts with sleeves, and and pray to get a nice companion in your next queue in India.

The First Hipster

Humanity is always in danger. Judging by Hollywood, New York is destroyed at least once every movie, either by Transformers, Power Rangers or confused superheroes. Does Batman turning against Superman has something to do with the gender fluid trend ? Is he bi ? Bi-super I mean good-evil.

We have suffered many pandemics in recent years, the Asian bird flu, the Kardashian flu, but the OMS has not prevent us for the most lethal of all them: the Hipsters.

So many years watching all these versions of the alien body snatchers movies, and we did not see it coming. Even poor Nicole Kidman tried to warn us in one of them. Although it wasn't the most thrilling of them all. We knew she will survive, with all that botox there is no way the aliens could tell she had emotions.

That got me thinking. Somebody has to do something. If the OMS is already invaded by them, is up to us, the regular people to fight this pandemic.

Following my lethal virus movie education I started to think who was the Patient Zero?

After several hours of research I have come to the conclusion that Fu-Manchu was the first and only Hipster.

It may sound strange but think about it. He had a long disgusting beard (No need to explain the parallelism here).

He dressed with funny vintage clothes. In a era where all gays are out of the closet, the hipster have gone back in, (to search for your vintage clothing, I mean).

Why they love so many vintage things? If they can afford so many men grooming products why not new clothes? Do they know something we dont? When their alien master come to Earth will he distinguish the converted ones by the age of their clothes and length of their beards?

Fu-Manchu was also very particular about his tea order, and if you have been recently to a hipster cafe you will understand the reasoning.  Why there has to be some many options? Why a barista is more highly regarded than a chemical engineer?

Now ordering a coffee is more difficult than following the Ikea instructions to assembly a table.

Dating tip. If he says he is a Barista in his profile, run away. Someone that thinks drawing a heart with milk foam is art obviously need to go to rehab.

Fu-Manchu wondering if the Starbucks barista will remember his soy semi fat pumpkin extra hot non sugar-caramel pink and orange chocolat sprinklers tea order correctly.

But the most dangerous sign of all, is that Fu-Manchu he had an evil plan to conquer the world. Same as the hipsters. Can you name a city without at least one neighborhood already failed to the army of hipsters. Look around in your street. A hipsters cafe, or vegan restaurant may be already opened. And I am sure some of them already live in your own building.

But don't despair. There is hope. I have noticed that hipsters can only survive in wifi environments. A drop on the signal strength can make them crazy. I recently witness how they all left all of the sudden in panic an organic cafe when the owner changed the password without telling them.

PS. I know Fu-Manchu is a fictional character but hey dont hipsters look like a bad dream? Turn off your wifi and live a real life not an online one. That is the best vaccine against stupidity.

Who run the World?...Aunties

Many years before Beyonce and her backup dancers loudly asked themselves this question, we had the answer in Singapore. By the way, I always wonder why she didn't also call for help to the world when searching for a name for her daughter.

Coming back to the existentialist issue, yes we all know the ones who run the world or at least Singapore, are the Aunties. For those who doesn't know, Aunties is the respectful and familiar way people refer to ladies of a certain age in Singapore.

Lets face it, Grannies, are the secret power of the world. Forget about the Bilderberg Club, Masons and any other conspiracy theory Group. Grannies quietly control the world. You may have heard about the influential Italian Mamas ( yes people can be influential without an Instagram account), or the Charismatic Spanish Abuelas, but the Singaporean Aunties are the most powerful of them all.

You can find them everywhere in town, their organization touches all levels of society. But if you want to find their ring leaders you better go to one of the Street Food markets. Controlling the stomach meaning controlling the population. Aunties know this and have made of the Hawker markets their center of operations.

Hawker centers are the epicenter of the life in Singapore. There are the street food markets that flourish in every corner. In a country where food is almost like a religion and there are more restaurants and food stalls per square meters than taverns in Spain.

                                                  Newton Hawker Center in Singapore

You just have to approach at lunch time any Hawker center in the city. You will see legions of people eating the wonders of the regional food, Singaporean, Malay, (or "fusion") and while they all are under the allure and vibrant atmosphere of the place the Aunties make their move. If you get out of spell and take a closer look you will see see nobody dears to contradict them and they held sway over their male counterparts or anyone who enters their territory.

                                                       Traditional Hawker Auntie

When you step in, before you realize they have selected the table for you, poor you a drink and chosen the food you should eat and if you don't pay attention they will sort out your marriage ( with any available daughter or niece ) if you look prosperous enough. If you don't get asked by your civil status in the first 3 questions, you should seriously reconsider you life choices (or your outfits).

Their energy levels and rapid movements are outstanding. Elon Musk is totally mistaken in his pursue for the perfect power source. He should get out of the Hyperloop and come to Singapore to eat a traditional chicken rice. Then he will find the solution to his dreams of a life-lasting battery.

In other part of the world, Grannies also hold power, even superpowers. In my own country, Spain, old ladies believe they have invisibility powers that they use to cut any queue at a shop. And forget about big data. Many decades before Silicon Valley used that term, Spanish Aunties already also had the knowledge of everything happening in their villages.

Lesson learnt, when in Singapore you cannot miss the Hawker food if you want to experience the country, but most important, respect the Aunties wherever you are or Beyonce will send her sister Solange to kick your xxxx....

About the origin of Fake News

Fake news have become the new norm. And not only in social media, even the largest newspapers have succumb to the phenomena, but very few know that this was invented many centuries before Russia elected Trump as US President ( at least according to Hillary).

The "Black Legend" (Leyenda Negra) refers to the unfavorable image of Spain and Spaniards portrayed by some Protestants European nation that were enemies of Spain during the 16th century to weak the Spanish dominance of the World during that period and incite other potential allies to join forces to them, something that today still lasts in many history books, despite its total inaccuracy.

In those time fake news talked about the Spanish Inquisition, the impact of colonization in native american tribes. Now about the latest Kardashian boyfriend. Now I kind of understand the people that don't believe in evolution.

In Spain we have lived with this stigma for many years and resigned to the fact once the fake news is out there denying it will make it even more a trending topic.

Some people even appeal to that factor to justify why Spain has not won the Eurovision Song Contest for the past 40 years. This is a subject that I personally feel strong about it. I have witnessed Spain joining the European Union, winning the Soccer World Cup, the Basketball World Championship, the Davis Cup and even Justin Bieber "performing" in Madrid, but I am yet to see that proud moment in anybody's life when your country lifts the Eurovision Trophy.

We have been close a few times, but many more times we have been far. Far too many. I wont mentioned this year fiasco of a Barcelona singer, which name I don't what to remember as Don Quixote would say. Personally I blame the Catalan insurgents for that.

With all the Latin music topping all the charts why we cannot find a suitable song and interpreter to regain the honor of our country and erase the Black Legend forever?

A 1598 engraving by Theodor de Bry depicting a Spaniard supposedly feeding Indian children to his dogs. De Bry's works are characteristic of the anti-Spanish propaganda that originated as a result of the Eighty Years' War. Source Wikipedia.

I cannot find a suitable answer. My music knowledge is limited. My Mum always had a big disappointment about my lack of music ability, but there is little you can do when you are tone-deaf. I even restrain myself from singing in the shower out my own self-consciousness and embarrassment.

But I have a plan. If we cannot find a good singer in the Spain, lets go to the Philippines.. Many will praise the beauty of the country, still unknown for many but worth a holiday for sure, the rich colonial history and monuments, the gentle and kind character of the population, but to me the most striking fact about the country is the incredible voices that all Filippinos have. It is simply not fair. Is that genetic factor? is the infamous Balut egg (typical fertilized egg very appreciated in the islands) the secret potion for your throat?

There is no corner of the country, bar or even sometimes business dinner were you don't see the unexpected Filipino starting to sing. And as a difference to the Irish or any other drunken pub pop-up singing culture, the Filipinos know how to sing big. Don't be deceived by their gentle demeanor and average size. Their voices are absolutely stunning, as much as the legions of Misses they export to the world (their fascination for Miss contests is worth another post).

So if Spain won its only Miss Universe title in 1974 when the pageant was held in Manila ( was that a tribute to our Colonial links there?) why not Spain can finally win Eurovision with a Filipino undercover?

And and even more fundamental question, now that Australia has joined Eurovision why shouldn't the Philippines do the same, will be good to hear Philippines douze points !

Expedition Unknown

It was not till 1968 were the first confirmed man reached the North Pole. To celebrate the 50th anniversary of such achievement for the Human Race, the Singapore Government is trying to organize an expedition to replicate the feat.

In a country where people are used to an average daily temperature of 32 Celsius and high humidity, ensuring they could survive in a sub-freezing environment could be a challenge. So for the past few years and following their tradition of state planning,  they have been relentless preparing the population for those extreme weather conditions.

Working for a local Singaporean firm I have experience first hand the tough daily training that locals endure, similar to the army boot camps. Temperatures at offices, public buses or shopping malls are kept at similar conditions to those of the North Pole at all times. It is not unusual to see colleagues with 2 or 3 jumpers braving the office weather.

                                            Staff piling up to 3 layers of winter clothing in the tropical office

So far, there have been no reports of casualties, but there are some "over the coffee rumors" that the last two people to leave the company, did not resign but perished after working extra hours to meet a deadline. Irony at first degree.

Some people also say that by using this tactic, the Government is helping to keep the staff young and fresh and therefore prevent the aging of the working population in a country where labor is scarce. It may seem odd, but so are the plot of all the movies nowadays ( Superman vs Batman, comes to mind) and I have seen people not only paying to watch it but asking for a second one.

Working on a sub-freeze environment is not the only peculiar thing you can expect when joining a Singaporean office.

I remember a story in Tintin’s book the Blue Lotus ( clarification note: he is not a Marvel Superhero Character and yes Belgium produces more interesting things than waffles and Spanish fugitives), where he jokes with his Chinese friend Tang about the westerners stereotypes of Chinese people in the old times. 

One of remarks is about the alleged obsession of Chinese women with small feet and the pain they will endure to achieve them.

Well, after almost 6 years living in Singapore I must agree that is myth ( purist will correct me in Singapore is not China, but hey America is not just the US and nobody seem to care to correct that in the media )

But don’t get me wrong, that particular fact maybe a myth but there is something going on with footwear among Singaporeans, and I don’t refer to the lovely Asian tradition of remove your shoes before entering a house as a symbol of respect, tradition that I second in my own home despite the several murder attempts by my cleaner with her diabolic floor waxing technique that make my floors more dangerous than ice.

I refer to that tradition of coming to work in heels and then change them at the office for slippers. Yes, you hear it right, is not like in any other part of the world were women wear the comfy shoes while commuting and put the painful but stylish footwear at work. 

                                                                   Official Office Footwear

At Singapore offices the world is upside-down, with women changing their show -off ones for the “better not to show anyone”-ones.

Someone will say its because they feel at home at the office. Judging by the number of hours they spend in the office it may be. 

But to me, it raises other queries, are shoes going to be ban like tobacco in the offices and only allowed to be worn two blocks away from the entrance? Or is this a new another plan from the Government to train their citizens for an unknown expedition? Ill keep watching for answers ( right after my new defrost cycle ).

Bring Your Own Wine

India is such a diverse country with a rich culture that changes from North to South. If yesterday, I had the pleasure to enjoy the intriguing towel meeting culture of the State of Bihar, today I have discovered the Bring Your Own tradition of Delhi meetings.

By Bring your Own, I am not referring to that odd Australian tradition of Bring Your Own Wine to restaurants, which basically consist on being rude to restaurant owner by telling them: your wine list sucks. 

By the way, I am surprised that Australians haven’t adopted also the “bring your own expresso” thing at restaurants, considering how snobby Aussies are with coffee in recent years. I guess adopting coffee as their drink has a lot do do with their rebellious attitude towards the former British rule. 

Indians on the contrary, have been, as expected, more true to their gentle nature and stick to tea . And since they are stuck with it, they have made another lovely Indian meeting tradition out of it. 

This is a very motherly one, meaning that it doesn’t matter what you order you will get whatever they want. Today I order black coffee no sugar,  and got a lovely sugary tea instead. Always Tea, God save the Queen. Must be for my own good as my Mum always says.

But lets go back to the subject of these post. In the surprising "Bring Your Own" Meetings, you are supposed to bring your own chair. 

It is a kind of a twisted version of the musical chairs kids game. When you arrive to the meeting room, only the table is there, so you need to rush to steal whatever can be used as a chair in the building. The last person who cant find an available chair looses the game and therefore the contract. 

You may wonder, what does the people in the office you have stolen your chair from,  do meanwhile. That, Nobody has been able to  clarify to me yet. If there are constant meetings it will be hard for them to have a productive day. 

Please don’t get me wrong, it is actually fun that they are so thoughtful to prepare those games to help you pass the time, while you are waiting for the meeting to start. Another popular game is hide and seek, where your host magically disappears just when you arrive, and people tells you that he is in another meeting to trick you and make it more fun, but you actually know there is no other meetings as people are seating in their own chairs.

A business tip, please allow sufficient time between meetings to play this games. Today, hide and seek lasted for 45 mins

Meeting time shifting is also very popular game in my own county, Spain. But again Spanish people have made an art on confusing people’s timetables. 

Some say bullfighting is torture but making our visitors starve and get jet lagged by arranging dinner after 10 pm doesn’t fall behind. I still remember my years in Madrid when desperate tourists used to approach me begging me to recommended a restaurant opened at 8 pm. They were hilarious. At 8 pm Spanish people are still in the office entertaining the 4 pm meeting guest while waiting for your manager that is still in the after lunch drinks. The algorithm says that the meeting delay is directly proportional to the number of bottles of wine the Manager has had for lunch.

So lessons learnt if you go for a meeting in India bring your coffee ( and a foldable chair just in case) and if you summoned for an afternoon meeting in Spain do like the Aussies, and bring my own wine. At least you will be in the same good mood as the Manager when he decides to show up.

A tale of Casts and Towels

I always thought that I was good at geography but recently I have been constantly proven wrong by my colleagues, when they announce that we have won yet another project in an Indian city I never heard of in my life. Yes you guessed right, I am the one that gets to travel as a guinea pig to that mysterious exotic destination, and yes, it is even more mysterious that, considering how many projects we win that my bonuses keep getting smaller. But thats subject for another post

This time the selected exotic destination was the legendary city of Patna, in the North of India , capital of the State of Bihar, which has turned out to be the centre of a social experiment were towels have replaced casts.

Yes you heard right , towels , those apparently innocent piece of clothing that we have in our houses that hide more mysterious meanings that one can imagine.

My first questions about the true meaning of towels date from my early childhood. To be more specific from the early 80s when Spanish women had the odd tradition of dumping their spouses for the weekend and travel hundred of kilometers to cross the border and buy towels in Portugal. Of course at that age of innocence I assumed Portuguese cotton was a sort of precious gem and was a fetish similar to what shoes are nowadays.

It wasn’t till later in life when I start questioning the real reason behind that cotton obsession. Were Portuguese men more liberal than Spanish? Did the Fado caused same inhibitions to women as rap nowadays judging by their loose women behavior in the rap music videos?

And when I thought I have hit a dead end in my investigations I discovered today a new piece of evidence in the other side of the world, that can change forever the understanding of towels.

At first I did not realized of the extent of the discovery. It took me a few minutes, actually till the crowd of the meeting I was assigned to attend as poster boy of the company switched to hindi and I decided to abandon any attempt to show interest ( to be fair it was kind of a relief , as meeting was far from interesting in the first place)

At the beginning the towels covering every seat puzzled me but in a fan way. First I thought the roof of the meeting room may be leaking and They were was a way to protect the chair upholstery.

Later I thought maybe we were all expected to go swimming in the Ganges as part of a celebratory session to celebrate the new contract. I even thought that the mysterious door at the end of the room hided a sauna and we were supposed to discuss the clauses covered only by those towels like if we were in a Roman Thermal Bath discussing the Republic with Julius Caesar.

Then the hindi switch make me observe the room more in detail to distract my mind and it was when I realized of the situation. The towels were not all the same. The ones by the table were pristine white, and those on the outside were blue. I asked, my always well informed colleague, about the situation, and he explained that white towels were for those with seniority ( white collar ) while the blue ones were specifically selected to separate the subordinates ( blue collard ).

The situation took another twist when in our next meeting where only the higher authority attending was granted the towel privilege while the rest ( not Government members) were exposed to the bare chairs. How humiliating it was!

We human beings get quickly used to the privileges I must say, and not getting the towel was hurting in the same way when the air hostess points you towards the end of the aircraft and you say goodbye to your last hope of getting upgraded to business class.

Are towels a Masonic symbol? Maybe not , but an advice for those wanting to live like the rich and famous, forget about the Italian sport car, buy a good Portuguese towel.

TED Monologues

It has happened, one of my worst nightmares became true on a recent flight to Doha. 

Picture this, that moment when you realize there are still 6 hours left on the flight and you have literally seen every single program on the video on demand system. And when I mean everyone its true. That includes that hipster culinary documentary about a certain European city ( spoiler alert please do not watch it before the in-flight meal service or you disappointment will not be curable even with a high dose of Prozac). 

I started panicking and I flipped anxiously through the in-flight magazine trying to discover a missing movie even if it was a tele-film for the glory ( or disgrace) of once a thin TV start now portraying a middle age highly accomplished woman struggling to find love (and stay fit), and struggling with blindness too, as she has this gorgeously attractive much younger and thinner adorable co-worker by her side all alone and she does not realize its her true love till the third commercial break. I wonder whether if it is because they think they are gay or something, because everyone can see from minute one they will end up together.

Coming back to my nightmare I finally accept that I have seen even the latest Disney sign-along kids movie and also watch latest Indian-Tamil romance sneaking into the ipad of the passenger besides me. One true thing is that you don’t need to listen to the movie to understand exactly what is happening, same with the tele-films, it is actually much more entertaining to imagine the dialogues than listening to the real ones.

So yes , I tried everything, talk to the hostesses ( an advice, they travel more than you so they are not interested in you travel life) I even befriend a Russian-Kazantzakis couple or their way to Paris But twenty minutes later I had to face the reality and go back to my cozy economy seat and yes ( I have to confess ) watch the TED talk channel. 

And by TED talk I don't refer to that kind of funny movie ( and not so funny sequel )about a talking teddy bear ( Again I am not referring to a bear-themed gay movie) that I watch for the first time on my way to Dallas and second time on a flight to London (Yes, I measure my life in trip please dont judge , it is already as sad as it sounds) 

At first I thought it was a scy-fy movies , a new version of the typical alien movie where they disguise as humans and they try convert people by giving them TED talks. Then I thought it was maybe a documentary of one of those cult sects like the Davidians in Waco. 

And my third assessment was that It was a stand-up comedy show, a non funny one ( I must confess that with the exception of Seinfeld, I have never understood the concept of stand up comedy )

But not, as it turned out they were real ( real as authentic not as reality TV , please do not confuse both terms) . People actually listening to people that are not trying to sell them the latest smartphone . At first I was impress no one in the audience was actually sexting their friends or taking selfies with the stage, but then I started to listen to the speakers and realize that in the times of Twitter and Fake news the TED talker is the King. 

Lets face it real information and knowledge is not sexy, and requires more than 15 minutes attention spam to comprehend . People if you want to learn please read a book, go to college, ask you parents or watch Sesame Street but please TED talks , really?