Mirror, Mirror

My hotel in Bangkok is in a great spot. It is the best hotel I've stayed in for a while. It has very nice rooms, well appointed and modern. There is also some very good mirror placement in the bathroom and you can check yourself easily, without craning your neck, from all angles, before going out.  So now it's confirmed: I look fat from every angle.

Fortunately, there's lemonade. Said mirrors are teaching me how to use various postures to make myself look thin from every angle. I feel like I'm directing Carnie Wilson in a music video. But I think it's working. For example don't tuck the shirt in too tight ... out from the belt to look thinner ... but not so much that you look sloppy.

Of course, if I don't start exercising this clothing and posture scam will have a short shelf life. And once the damn walls burst, there's no point hunting for a mop.

Colour palettes

Every now and then, I look at the colour palette I've selected in my clothes and I'm very happy with it. Today is one such day. 

I just wish I had cufflinks to cap it off. Mole.

Second written warning

I got an email today from someone I've never met, who is somehow associated to the apartment owners.

Here are the highlights:

"I supposed to see you today when you come back your apt from work ..."

[Yes OK but why? Why were you coming see me?.]

"... but when I was at the building, you'd gone for business."

[Oh yes, the security guard was onto me when I snuck out the side with my luggage. He actually saw me on the street, came outside and own the street, watched me through the gate as I crossed the road, gingerly came onto the footpath as I got into the cab, then enthusiastically waved me goodbye and I peered back out through the window ... he never even asked my name ...]

"I also printed one copy of this minute and I'll give to you when we can meet."

[Another written warning is on the way. Double Fuck.]

I also have a rent deposit and payment due this Friday, which I will probably miss because I am away. Seventy four million anything is not an easy amount to approve. It's so easy to throw an extra zero into the mix. I know how Obama feels.

Missing Links

My only remaining clean shirts all need cufflinks. However, the little black box where I keep my (only three pairs of) cufflinks has gone missing.

It was last seen on the dining table. Next to where Trang was sitting.  Last Sunday.

I can't help but suspect Trang. It's in keeping with my theory that She Be Actin' Like She Some Kinda 'Ho Who Turned. She had motive. She had opportunity: last seen packing up her things in that area, while I was fetching (and I mean fetching) her a glass of water. Besides, she's an opportunistic little miss. So I'm calling it early: Trang stole them. Maybe she did it as she thrust the "homework" papers at me, like one of those gypsy kids in Rome who use a newspaper to distract you while they pickpocket you.

I will start working on a questioning approach for our next meeting. What's the word when the police interview the witness? Actually I think it's interview. Like "I need to interview the suspect". No, I think it's a more specialised word. Interrogate! That's it! I will interrogate Trang on her next visit: shake her down and see what falls out.

Grenouilles

There is a constant sound of frogs gribbetting outside my apartment. 

What could they possibly have to talk about all night?

Piece of Work

I had my introductory meeting with Trang this evening. What a piece of work she turned out to be.

Our meeting was planned for 11am. 

At 10:30 I received an sms saying "I am still doing things so how about later, like 4?"

At 10:35 I replied that, yes, 4pm is ok .

At 10:37 Trang responded with: "Thanks...! I will be there abt 4:30 and 5. See you then."

By 16:55 there was no sign of Trang. I call her phone and there as no answer. 

I recall Trang's website, which offers 30 minutes free with every lesson. I couldn't work out what happens in these 3o minutes  but now I know: she uses them to run late.

At 17:05 Trang turns up, rings the doorbell a few times too many, smiles briefly, leaves her heels on and shakes my hand quickly as she trots in. I admire her grooming and her pluck.

We sit down. I offer her the seat across from me at the dining room table but she says she prefers to sit next to me. I am about to offer her a glass of water when she bursts out of the blocks.

"So you want to just learn survival Vietnamese or you want to be perfect?"

Me: "Well, I am staying here a long time. 2 years. So I want to learn properly, with structure. Not just basic."

[She couldn't look more bored if she tried.]

Her: "So you want perfect? Reeeally?"

Me: "Ok. Umm. Yes. Perfect, I s'pose."

Her: "No it's too hard for you. Too difficult to learn perfect. Just basic Vietnamese is good ... [Then, get this] ...  "Anyway I only have 15 workbooks and I have to give you one if you learn proper Vietnamese. So you will do basic survival I think."

Me: Yes but I know how to learn a language--"

Her: "It will be fine. Survival and conversation. No problem."

She then tells me how she hates having to think up all the different scenarios for teaching survival Vietnamese so hopefully my homework can include me thinking up some scenarios for us to practice with, too. She then complains how tired she feels this afternoon.

I get the feeling that this is not quite her calling.

Trang: "When you would like your lessons?

Me: "Saturday if possible." [I notice she screws up her face.] "Is that OK? What's up? Not good?"

She starts to look like she's sulking.

Her: "Saturday..? Awww...! But I want to hang out with my friends!"

An awkward silence appears. I am not liking  Trang's tone at all: she's behaving like a hooker who turns on you the minute she's been paid ...  I automatically feel for my wallet to check it's still there.

Her: "OK then, Saturday."  [I notice a slight turning of the nose, as if she thinks someone has farted but is not quite sure.]  "When do you want to meet next?"

Me: "Umm ... next week please."

Her: "No. I'm too busy. We start in 2 weeks. OK?" [Fishes around in her bag.]  "Here. Take these papers and learn them. Your homework." [She thrusts some photocopies into my hand.]

Me: "OK. Thanks then. See you in two weeks."

Her: "I go now. First give me a glass of water."

[Stockholm kicks in and I start to nod and smile obsequiously as I head for the fridge.]

Despatching a currier

Sam: I need Edwina to focus on document XYZ because I don't have anyone else.

Me: Yes but that worries me. She needs supervision. Which is stupid I know, but she does.

Sam: Well I don't have anyone else to do it so we have to take the risk.

[2 hours later]

Me: Edwina can you please review document XYZ? We're running late here so I'd like you to focus on it, update the English and highlight anything that we need clarity from. Call them in to clarify once you have a list.

Ed: What? Oh. Yeah. Sure. I don't know if I will know what they mean but I can try.

[One day later]

Me: Have you finished? Can I see? How was it?

Ed: No I haven't finished it because I didn't understand it. It was impossible. Their English was everywhere.

Me: Just change it then.

Ed: But I don't know what they're saying half the time. It's impossible.

Me: Give me an example

Ed: Well I was reading one sentence that they wrote "send something through using a currier" -- I mean ... what's a currier?

Me: It's courier. Just change it. Obviously they mean courier. They are referring to sending documents from one location to another. Please don't turn it into a personal crusade.

Ed: Yes that's what I thought. Courier. But "currier" didn't come up in spellcheck in Word so then I checked it on google and it's an actual word, did you know?

Me: I don't care. It's not relevant. Make the changes please. Did you met with them to clarify other things which aren't clear?

Ed: No but I called them and said you were not happy with their progress.

Me: I'm actually more worried about your progress.

Ed: Yes, but a "currier" is certainly nothing to do with the process that they were writing about. It relates to someone who--"

Me: We don't have time to be pedantic. Please just change it and stop scoring points. We know their English is not good, so change it. We don't have time and we do know what they mean to say most of the time.

Ed: It actually has something to do with leather tanning--"

Me: Please. Stop. Now. Change it. Please."

[2 days pass] 

I'm doing a final review of Edwina's document. I come across a comment in the revised document ... "Please explain currier. Do you mean courier? Currier doesn't make sense in this sentence. Please outline what you mean." Fer fuck's sake.

Simultaneous Translation

The week before last I delivered a speech to a bunch of Hanoi bankers. The subject of my presentation was assigned to me 2 weeks earlier by someone in Marketing: "New Ideas in Customer Relationship Management". Of course, I had no new ideas. And no time to find any. So I grabbed a lot of other people's old ideas, tied them together with string and chewing gum, arrived 5 minutes early to load my PowerPoint file onto the central computer.

I was told the speech would be translated, simultaneously. I was also told that while I had 45 mins to speak, I would only to use 35 mins of material because of the speed of the translation so please go through the other material quickly. An interesting stage direction to say the least: "You will need to go slower than normal, so will not get through everything, so please go quicker through some parts."

I asked to meet the translator. I opened up my PowerPoint and showed him the sections where I would not be sticking to the written words on the screen and what I would say; how I would introduce myself in the beginning; checked that  he had good translations for obscure words such as advocacy, psycho-demographic and end-to-end multi-channel process architecture; asked how quickly he would like me to speak and whether there was anything else he needed to know or vice versa. Turns out he didn't want to know anything at all, except where I was from:

"Sydney."

-- "I studied in Adelaide at Adelaide University for 3 years."

"What did you study? English language?"

-- "No. Finance."

"Oh. Do you need me to go through my speech with you?"

-- "No. It's OK. Just speak a bit slower than you normally speak. But not too slow. Just a little bit. Like 10%."

"What about this pace, is this OK?"

-- "No that's too slow. Just a little quicker but not too much."

"Oh. OK."

There are about 10 rows of people in the audience. Having studied the invitation list I knew they had job titles like Vice General Director and Deputy Director, Payment Promoting Department. So I knew I was in for a good time.

Next thing I know I'm getting mic'ed, then announced, and walk up the aisle to the podium through gentle applause.

As I start to speak, the entire audience reached for the pair of headsets in front of them and puts them on. So now no one is listening to me. My wisdom (OK, other people's wisdom) is being filtered via a slack-jawed Adelaide Uni finance graduate. And I am looking out onto rows of bumble bees. I know how Jaws 3 felt.

Needless to say, I abandoned all attempts at light hearted repartee and ploughed on through the material. Halfway through, I noticed that I had abandoned the podium and my hands were gesturing a bit too hard and my arms were occasionally flapping. I think my message was looking for other ways to get  out in its raw from. Quite tragic but beyond my control. About 3/4 of the way through I got bored, so I started speeding up my speech to annoy the translator. At one stage I was rabbiting on really quickly about key customer life event triggers and how to recognise them and how to operationalise them, while thinking to myself "Simultaneous that, yer cunt.".

That's not my only experience of simultaneous translation though. No, no, no. 

Edwina provides simultaneous translation for me - in English - on a daily basis. 

For some reason, she feels that by repeating things I say she is helping people understand it. Sometimes it's condescending to the locals when it's staccato. Sometimes confusing. But mostly it's just disruptive, superfluous filler. This from a document review last night with our contractors:

Me: "Could you just add a table in that section which gives a simple breakdown of what you are providing."

My echo: "You need to add a table in that section there. Just a breakdown of everything.

Me: "I don't understand this bit. I think I know what you're saying but the client may not understand. Could you please reword it?"

My echo: "This needs to be reworded so that the client understands it. Can you see the sentence there that begins with--"

Me: "Yes Edwina - they know which sentence. They're already marking it up on their page.

My echo: "So that sentence that you're marking up - yes that one. That needs to be reworded to make sure the client under--"

Me: "Let's have only one voice saying the same thing, OK?"

things i will remember to negotiate in my next lease

1. bedding for the spare room

2. soap dishes

3. towels

4. chopsticks

5. coat hangers

6. kettle

7. tea towels

8. corkscrew

9. toaster

First Written Warning

Not yet 24 hours and I've been served my first written warning. By hand, no less.

[Knock Knock]

I bend down to look into the peep hole and the security guard is standing there brandishing paper. Firstly yes, I have to lean down because everything here is build on the assumption that I'm 5 foot 3. Secondly, I open the door and the paper turns out to be a typed letter. Highlights as follows:

SOCIALIST REPUBLIC OF VIET NAM

Independent  --  Freedom  -- Happiness

[My face pretends it is studying the page, but my mind  wanders disobediently  ... Wouldn't "Independence" sound better ...? Or perhaps a "Free"/"Happy" combo would sound fresher and contemporary ...? No, "Independence" is better ... more befitting of a governmental department.]

PAYMENT APOINTMENT MINUTE

[One typo didn't keep me interested for long.]

Today, 28th March 2009

We are Hoa Ngoc  Development Co., Ltd.

Herein referred to as the Party A

[Well that's just plain cute, isn't it?]

Party B [that's me] should pay Party A the apratment deposit and apartment Rent right after hand-over the apartment.

Because of some personal reasons, Party B [yep, me!] have just requested to put off all these payment above. The deadline for payment will be on 3rd April 2009.

[Personal reasons? I fail to see how "give me your bank details please" are personal reasons.]

Confirmed by Party A

[His signature, in pen]

Confirmed by Party B

[I fetched my special Stilnox pen for the occasion, signed it and wrote "I am waiting for your bank details, dipstick" underneath. I have the security guard the papers, he returned one of them, and departed with a pleased look on his face.  I have my suspicions about this government; you mark my words.]

Zayafka

No Tax 4 U!

Late landing request from the landlord about my rent. I can either:

a) pay it to an account in the US; or

b) open a special US-dollar bank account in Vietnam and give him power of attorney to withdraw from it.

Apparently my fantastic negotiation skills on Thursday had me agree to one of these options. 

I'm going with a).

This will no doubt end in tears. Mine.

Let me go on the record though, that I will Deep Throat this rhinestone-studded landlord if he crosses me ... even at the risk of Ben giggling at the DT entendre.

Post Purchase Cognitive Dissonance

I was finally inducted into the new apartment this evening at 8:16pm. We had to conduct the inventory walkthrough while I was on a conference call. My inventory guide didn't speak any English so it wasn't so rude. He didn't have any rhinestones on his jeans, either, so it's not like we'll ever be friends. 

Managed to say "I don't see any chopsticks in this drawer but they're listed on my inventory report and so can we please look harder or strike them off the list?", using only hand signals and some odd smiling thing, whilst on a call talking about whether our Russian client is just trying to find fault or has a point and if so what that point could be.

The rice cooker was sitting up on the bench when I walked in, pride of place. Phew. No toilet paper though. I'm going to conquer that damn cooker.

That new dwelling feeling is strange though. I always feel very discombobulated after moving to a new residence. I don't get it in a hotel room, so it's probably linked to the irrevokability of the choice.

I've found a lebanese restaurant (of all things) nearby and am now in it. I was the only person here at 9:30 and no one else has come in during the last hour. Friday night, too. There are 5 waiters, 4 bad hairstyles and 3 t-shirts with fresh spills down them. Staff lunch must have been poorly plated.

I'm going to somehow say "bingo" when I pay; just to break the ice. It's important to make friends in a new school. 

Blunt instruments

Had an extremely busy day with tight deadlines and angry client and too much work and stress and concentration. So I've been dans la zone all day; furiously typing, and formatting, and basically doing things which no one will read. But important, right ...

Anyway at one point Edwina pipes up out of the blue, for the tenth time, with something inane and distracting. This one I wrote down:

"Isn't it funny? Don't you think it's funny how people always think it's a lot further to walk --"

Me: "No. Edwina. Not now. I can't listen to this now. Sorry".

She didn't seem to mind at all.  I somehow think I'm not her first.

Worst lease ever

I forgot to negotiate an iron, ironing board and towels (tea or bath) with my landlord. I'm sure there are many others standard items as well. So I now have to steal some towels from the hotel before I check out, to tide me over for a week or so when I can buy some.

Yesterday,  when we walked through the apartment with the inventory list, I did ask if he supplied a rice cooker. Oh yes, I have successfully worked a rice cooker into my lease. (Get me.) I didn't ask for towels, or an ironing board, or an iron, or indeed anything of a standard, perfunctory nature. I was probably trying to sound Vietnamese during the negotiation or something, God knows. I've never even used a rice cooker.  Even when I was given one.

Dirty clothes

[Ring Ring]

"Hello Good Morning Hilton Reception this is Mai speaking how may I help you?

"Hello Mai I am checking out today and I was won—"

"Check out?"

"Yes I am checking out today. BUT—"

"Yes sir, what time you like to check out?"

"BUT I need to do my laundry. Is it possible to do my laundry and also check out?"

"Your Laundry, sir?"

"Yes. I am checking out today. But also I want to do laundry. Is it possible to do laundry?"

"Laundry."

"Laundry. And check out."

"Yes sir. You have a laundry bag sir?"

"Yes."

"Please leave laundry in room. You want me call housekeeping to pick up?"

"Yes but not until I now if I can also check out. Is this possible?"

"Check out?

"Yes. Check out AND laundry. Is that OK?"

"Check out? What time you check out?

"Umm. Early I think. Morning. Now. Soon. L"

-- Check out now? OK. No problem. Please come to reception for check out.

"What about my laundry?"

-- Is there anything else I can help you with sir?

"Yes I just want to ask about my laun—"

" Thank you, sir. You're welcome, sir."

[Click]

Les Fleurs du Mal

By the way I negotiated that the landlord buy me some bedding because I don't have time and want to move in tomorrow. I had visions of arriving to new, fresh floral extravaganza.

So then, right, I write the agent an email and say:

"If the landlord is buying any bedding for me could you just ask it to be only white? I have very simple tastes so no patterns please."

So gay.

expression of the day

"Flash as a rat with a gold tooth."

Best expression. Ever.

Holy holy

I am working with someone who begins his emails with: 

"Dear [Name],

"Blessed morning! ..."

I kid you not.

Lease

Met the new landlord. We argied. And we bargied. Then I signed the lease.

At one point I tried to look intent and negotiatingly ... which is like "lovingly" for relaxed but serious businessmen like me. But I don't think they bought it. I don't think my body language was smooth enough, eg my inelegant trajectory when lifting the glass from table to lips.

Lesson: come with a laundry list of stuff you want in the apartment and use them as bargaining chips.

But I managed to get a 1-month termination agreed, but he insisted it was both ways. I guess that's fair but I still ensured that the wording of the English version (which I updated on my computer, casually smiling and relaxed) would protect my interests, give only me the power to terminate the lease, and make it hard for him to rip me off.

He seemed nice though: very strong hair gel and random rhinestones on his jeans.