Love sucks when there is no trust.

I have had a pretty rough love life since the beginning of this year and I thought that all of this would come to an end when I accidentally met Pol, a cute slim tanned Thai guy of pretty much the same age.

As almost every couple, we had a great "promotion" period in our first phase of romance but here came the moment of disillusion when the perfect guy seem to be not so perfect at all. The only exception in my case is that this was revealed just a little bit too early than I would have wanted.

Suddenly I found myself in a situation in which I had to answer to every tiny bit of his interrogation on my daily routines which also include my workout at the gym, my hanging out with friends or colleagues or even my weekly swimming practice.

I am OK with answering doubtful questions with truth. However, I am so not OK with answer all of them every day as if this was supposed to be one of my daily obligation. Actually answering any excessive amount of questions is so not endearing and finally it wears you out.

Things turned out that when I decided to let out my feeling, I was seen as someone who tried to shield himself by reflecting these interrogative arrows elsewhere so he could avoid revealing the unspeakable truth (which, of course, is always "speakable"). I wish I could express my feeling verbally better than in writing so that he could grasp the idea I tried to convey and learned to trust me once and for all.

Sometimes I just can't get the idea of how people can always say that they are deeply in love with one another while, in practice, they just keep their eyes on every move the other part makes.

Can we just stop destabilising the foundation of love and start building trust by putting more faith on our loved ones?

Present

Okay, I promised you the one last chapter about my Egyptian Odyssey four months ago! Obviously I'm that sort of guys who keep their word seriously, heheh. Sorry for that! Well, before putting an end to the unforgettable experience in the Promised Land, I'd love to share a tiny bit of time to mention about my 26th birthday.

Now I have officially reached the first milestone of what I call "Life as a serious adult". Lots of things to think and worry about; the unseen future that is to come, the unretrievable past that was fully lived and the challenging present that never stops flowing.

I have just realized that I am a conventional, traditional, under-control kind of devoting white collars. My financial and career plans keep bouncing in my head non-stop lately. So much so that sometimes it crossed my mind that I couldn't let go. Why so? I really don't know.

Probably spending too much time in the professional rat race has magically teleported me into this egocentric world I used to hate. I was so focused on my goals that once I slipped or erred a bit, I became overstressed, which affected my physically and socially as well.

A day before my birthday I had an unexpected lunch with a bunch of old friends which sadfully reminded me of how far off I was from their circle. I could hardly catch up on what they were talking and had to put myself up-to-date immediately. Then it occured to me that I had rarely gone with friends and they just started to get too bored to ask me out.

That will be different from now. As a birthday present to myself, I will reward me with a little less time in the rat race and spend more of it hanging out. That's what life is all about after all; enjoy it while you can, but moderately, of course.

This year I have got nice birthday presents and chocolate cakes from my beloved family, friends and colleagues. I appreciated the friendship that an ex-enemy of mine in the office sincerely offered me. That was a good sign. At least, I learned to let go some aspects of the pessimism I used to firmly grab hold of.

Another excellent present I got arrived in the form of an email. It was not a message that wished me the best nor the colourful e-card. It was just a plan three-lined message:-

happy birthday
sorry for everything
Sender

An apology is one of the greatest blessing you can ever receive on your birthday. Especially if it comes from someone who you appreciate, no matter how badly hurt you are.

That wasn't my first reaction at first. Actually, it was the contrary; I was furious. I was enraged of receiving a message that reminded me of the painful past. But one of my best friends, Now, enlightened me with such an insightful perspective; why don't you take it as a good sign for your birthday? It's a heart-warming feeling to realize that to him/her you mean something, that he/she cares for your feeling and wants to apologize.

So, another birthday present to myself is learn to let go. I haven't successfully done it but I promise that I will try my best and that some day in the future I will forget and forgive.

All I need now is time because, the will, I have just got it already.

Out of the Closet

Recently I hardly have had any inspirations to jot down interesting events that happened to me.  Perhaps here in Bangkok my personal Muse can't perform her task very well since the surrounding is not very encouraging.  However, now alone in the middle of the night, with the cool german popjazz music as a backtrack, my inspiration has somehow find its way back home again.  And that leaves me to why I'm going to write about one of the most memorable, though not quite impressive, moment of my life.  It happened just a month ago; I extemporaneously told my parents that I was gay.

It was a spur-of-the-moment revelation of which I'm not going into detail.  Let's just say that my dad and I mounted quite a scene in the early morning one day.  He was illogical, irrational and stubborn while I was being furiously emotional.  There were lots of tension.  My mom was there too but she tried to blend into the surrounding while, of course, perceiving the approaching menace of my words.  Though passive she might seem, she was the one who reacted first when the truth was revealed with tears.  I blurted out that I was gay.  My dad collapsed into a chair, saying nothing.  She was the first one who accepted me as I was and my dad was the second to win the race.

I admit that originally it was intended to hurt their feelings.  Nevertheless, their reaction came out unexpected and that made me felt afterward tremendously guilty.  But I think until now I can live it down by making amend while they are also doing the same.

What really struck me was that I didn't feel any sudden relief as I had expected.  It was true that the lifetime burden was finally lifted but I wasn't immediately relieved by that fact.  Unlike the dramas I had seen, it was more a gradual process of adapting myself to another phase of reality in which we all have to take part.

As far as I know, that day marked the turning point of my perspective towards my family.  When I say family, I refer to all of us in our house.  I love my parents all the way more.  And I felt that I truly belonged to my family and wanted the best for them.  All these thoughts were unclear before that.

Despite the result that wasn't what I expected, I don't regret my action of that day.  Damages were somehow done but it was just a step further to reach a more united little family of mine.  

I took the bet and the dice turned out in my favour.  Apart from the basic characteristics of my conventional and weird family, my luck also helped me in this revelation.  I'm not saying that doing the same 
thing as I did will lead those still in the closet to a happy ending.  
But at least just try it.  We are just a little human 
being who can't bear the weight of this burden for all our life.

Take the courage to get rid of it and face the consequence.  Whatever the result will be, you are one step further than before.  And that's a good news, isn't it?

Sorry For Not Being There

A farewell to my beloved Toon...

Only if I didn't insist on staying...

Only if I didn't linger...

Only if my return was 10 days earlier...

I could be there to say good bye.

Every single moment with you was truly precious...

Thanks for being my best friend always.

I am sorry for not being with you in the last moment.

I hope you would always have me in your memory...

just as I will always have you in mine.

Rest in peace.

With Love,

Mod

The Most Decisive Moment in my Life

Now is the most decisive moment in my life. Everything that happens from this moment on depends solely on the decision I'm going to make today. And it isn't an easy one.

Life in Spain and Hard Life in Bangkok, what will you choose?

After months of waiting and struggling, I've finally been authorised to apply for a Work and Temporary Residence Card. It hasn't been easy, since it took the company six full months to start the procedure, another four months for the Ministry of Labour. And now with the official permit for Work Visa in my hand, and a limited time period of one month, I must decide whether to go back and apply for the visa and come back here again, so as to continue my assignments and responsibilities in this company. All these efforts will be in vain if I choose to throw the chance away, just to return to normal chaotic life in Bangkok.

Two months ago, I was very determined to leave the job, but now, with the paper in hand, I'm not so sure. What if life in Bangkok wasn't what I'm expecting it to be? What if I didn't get the job that I'm applying for? What if things didn't come out as planned? What if being again with my Patto wasn't enough? Will I ever regret the path taken? Will I live in misery, overwhelmed by the mistake I've made? So many questions unanswered, and they never will be until I reach the decision.

I was told, today, by the boss that it wasn't fair for the company that, after all these bureaucracy and procedures the company had gone through FOR ME, I simply decided to go, leaving everything pending in the air and in mess. I didn't speak up, silence. I didn't dare, I suppose.

What dignified me the most was that the company did all the paper things FOR ME. Liars. Partly they did it for themselves. And they did it too late. They should have begun eight months ago, before summer, not after it. That was why I had to extend my Student Card by enrolling in a language school, which took me each month a good amount of my already reduced salary. It was the money I shouldn't have paid for had the work permit procedures been done earlier, but they lingered. Now tell me who was doing a favor for whom? If I hadn't stayed, parts of the project wouldn't have born fruit. They helped me to earn money? Forget about that, what I got paid was a misery because it was only media jornada.

But his comment makes it easier for me to reflect. Tomorrow I'll face what is about to come and justify my action. I'd love to live here and work for this company, but it just isn't me. I can't stomach what I'm doing daily. It's pure torture. The stress is eating me inside out and doesn't leave me in peace at night. I go to bed with headache, thinking of the next day and the tasks yet to be done; tasks I hate to do. Shall I sacrifice myself for the cause of the company? If not, will I be a prick? So be it.

Some other Thais might probably see me as a loser, the one who throws away the great opportunity of life. I used to compare myself to those who tried any means just to stay in Spain and I couldn't be at peace. Comparing oneself to the others will only deteriorate your state of mind. The solution? To hell what the others think of you. It's your choice, it's your chance.

Life in Bangkok may be hard. It's obviously not as beautiful as in Europe but my roots are there. At least I won't suffer from solitude nor loneliness because my family, my friends and Patto will always be there for me. And it took me two years and a half to realise how important they are to me, how their presence keeps me mentally alive and how much I love them.

Deep Impact

It has been exactly one week since my best thai friend, Now, after two years, left Madrid for good and the aftermath of her departure has just begun to influence my way of living.

Things are now quite different. No more chatting, gossiping, eating out, drinking and laughing together in this lively little capital of Spain with her anymore. That is pensively sad to think about and it is even more melancholic to realise that those days are irrevocably gone.

Sure thing that I will meet her in Krung Thep but things aren't going to be the same. And I will absolutely miss those moments we had here.

I try to survive the impact and keep on by adapting myself to the world without her presence and support. Meanwhile, new characters step in and new stories are told. I've got a chance to get to know some thai people better than before and find out that, probably, it's not gonna be that bad. Who knows?

Trapped!

For the best result, the iron must be wrought when it's still hot. That's why I'm writing about being trapped when I'm ACTUALLY trapped in my own apartment in this very moment.

I've been trapped twice in my whole beautiful life. In the first time, I got involutarily imprisoned in the bathroom of Takeshi's flat. The moment I locked the door and heard Takeshi's Noooooooooooooo was undescribable. I suddenly realised something wrong was about to happen (and actually it had already happened); the lock, once shut, would never open again.
By all wit and talents that I had been blessedly given at birth, and with a knife passed from the other side, I managed to get out in one hour time.

The second time is NOW.

I've spent all day long doing this and that without knowing my fate. When I got dressed and ready to head to FNAC, I saw something strange at the locks. One of them, that was supposed to be intact, was shut. OMFG.

I've already tried a role of McGuyver, but to no avail. The door's security system has proved its effectiveness. Stronger than any imaginable vaults on Earth. And so I resigned.

Picked a phone, called Beatrix, waited for help. Nothing. Called Beatrix again, then Lola, waited for help. The phone rang, I picked up and was told by Lola that she was gonna set me free very soon. On her way now. Started counting.

:(

Hospital Nightmare

Hospitals in Madrid, especially public ones, as far as my experience concerns, are desperately competing at full throttle with the Spanish banking system to get a Champion Cup of Administrative Sluggishness and Ineffectiveness.

And obviously they're going to win the race very soon.

My painful experience of Appendicitis taught me that even in a private hospital, you must not get your hope too high of receiving a prompt and rapid emergency service from the staff, let alone the doctors' gentleness to the suffering patients. (See Operación Triunfo in the old archives).

My other literally irritating experience of Urticaria gave me a formula for the time a public hospital takes to attend a patient; double or multiply by three the total time you stay in a queue in a private hospital to see a doctor, and that's the time you have to spend in a public one waiting for your turn. (See Life is a Roller Coaster).

The administration disaster is even more noticeable in the Emergency Units. Takeshi, my japanese friend, who had a not-so-complicated intestinal hemorrhage was admitted in a public hospital's EU and stayed there a couple of days. In the second visit I couldn't find him, so I asked the Information for his room and was told to go to the counter on the right. And so I went, but it was closed, I had to wait until the nurses came (which was very late, and I was worried because the visit time only lasted 30 minutes or so). After rummaging through papers and reports, a kind nurse told me she had no idea where my friend was!!! None of the activities concerning him were registered in the reports, nor in the computer! What an unbelievable excuse! Finally, the problem was solved when she called the EU, which took quite some time (seemed like the EU had troubles finding out what had happened as well), and informed me that Takeshi was set to freedom (at last!) since the morning. Lucky him, being able to get away from such nightmare so early, since the condition in the room was depressing; 30 patients or so filled the room, high temperature, no windows, no clock and small corridor.

Nevertheless, some medical centers have their merits. Recently (and also today), I have undergone a series of Periodontitis Treatment (Examination, oral cleansing and curretage) in a private dental clinic that belongs to my Health Insurance company. I left with good impression, to say the least. They arranged things quickly in a well-organized manner, and were able to bring forward one of my appointments and gave me useful advices, always with smile, of course. This is the quality I have always dreamed of (which is not rare to find one at all in Bangkok).

Until next time, when you go to a hospital, bring a book with you, relax and smile because you never know how long you'll have to wait.

Banks Suck

Going to the bank in Spain is, among other eligible choices, the last thing that I would ever wish to do.

Once you pass the entrance, you will feel the air of idleness and inefectiveness floating around the hall. Everything seems to be normal, which is absolutely abnormal. The small number of the staff with impassive look on their face, regardless of the branch, can't possibly attend to the endless numbers of agitated clients that are hopelessly finding someone to serve them. The only solution is to wait between 15 to 4o minutes until it's your turn...well, this is an average waiting time. If you got 15 minutes, consider yourself fortunate and buy a lottery. The only solution for us, the loyal clients of spanish banking, is to go there early and spare yourself lots of time. If we can't change the way they work, just adapt ourselves to them, take prozacs and complain less... (Wow! sounds easy!)

As for service, you get lucky that they don't bite you for asking them a favour. Oops, a lil' bit exaggerating...I mean...just don't expect the clients-are-king kind of service. This is not Asia; the "service-minded" is an unknown word in the Spanish vocabulary. Try to go in the morning, the staff tends to be happier than the late hours (logically).

The administration of documents is, in general, disastrous. My thai friend, Now, waited for almost 2 months for her credit card because they had sent the card to the address in Thailand, instead of the one in Madrid, TWICE; the first was a mistake, but the second was a stupid mistake. In my case, it took them a month because they sent the blessed card to Thailand just once...lucky me. (If I want a credit card in Thailand, why the heck did I have to fly here to apply for it?!?).

I consider these the most common problems. In fact, each person may encounter different kinds of administrative wonders in each bank or branch, depending on his/her luck.

But be warned, this patrons' nightmare doesn't keep its limit to banks only, but it's also lurking in every corner of some hospitals in Spain as well...

To be continued.

Case study for this article: Banco Santander, Avda. Complutense. The renovation of the office doesn't improve the service at all, why bother?