Mango series 5B

I have zero experience of working. Thanks to Property Police department, they suggest to bring me around to some HDB buildings that they are going to supervise.

"Mango, do you see that blue building there?" asks Dawson.
I nod my head.

Dawson is a Filipino. He came to Singapore ten years ago to get a better life, leaving his parents behind in Manila. He is now in his forties.

He and another man called Ah Sam sit in the front seat, while I enjoy my luxurious space at the back seat. The building, painted in sky blue colour, erects majestically before us, blocking morning sun rays that are showering Singapore intensely in this period of year.

We get off the car, then enter the building. We take the lift to the tenth floor and Dawson's expression turns from sweet to sour. He has noticed something I do not notice.

"You see, Mango. The person who does this will get something from me."

In front of me are clothes hanging on a nylon string tied to a water pipe on one end and to the staircase railing on another end. It looks like they have just finished washing the clothes and have no place to air them. Drops of water drip from the clothes and create pools on the cemented floor.

Dawson knocks on the door. An old woman opens it. She cannot speak English, nor Chinese, nor Malay. Dawson has tried to converse in all the three languages.The woman mumbles some words in dialect, and then bangs the door on our faces. Dawson shrugs. Looking at me, he says, "You see. Sometimes life can be so unexpected."

Mango series 5A

I am lucky to be offered a job after three gruelling weeks of job hunting.

It is a simple job in a town council in the central part of Singapore. The manager is a good-tempered lady. She oftens has meetings or appointments overseas, so up to now, I have only seen her once, during the job interview.

I learn that there are three main departments, namely finance, admin, and property police. I will explain one by one in the next three paragraphs.

FINANCE:
A boring department consisting of good-natured people. They do their work diligently and follow the guidelines religiously. No matter how hardworking these people are, they cannot finish their work because one pile of papers will come after one another like the automated machine in a factory never stops working.

ADMIN:
A complete word for it is administrative. Administrative officers deal with a lot (really a lot) of paperworks. What differentiates them from finance is the contents on the papers. They face words, while their counterparts face numbers. There are three big photocopy machines in the middle of the admin room. However, one is spoiled, and the other one is an old model which produces loud terrible noise when used. So there only left one machine in good working condition.

PROPERTY POLICE:
All the staff in the other two departments are females, but this department consists of male officers. These guys have muscular arms. They are ordered to show stern expressions when on duty. Their task is to check every building and warn people who do not abide by the law on living together harmoniously in a building (most people in Singapore stay in HDB flats, that means they have to tolerate the nuisance coming from next door). That is why the town council employs men because women are easy to bully.

Out of the three departments, the last one has the most fun and enjoyment a working world can offer. Everyday is a brand new day, with brand new experience. They go to new places, meet new faces,and find new offenses. I think that what a working world should be.

Mango series 4

This morning I woke up with swollen eyes. I guessed it was caused by the foam I applied on my fringe that was getting longer. I condemn myself for not being taller that I can't keep long hair. My fringe always gives me problem. When it gets long, my eyesight is disturbed--the upper half for short distance due to the fringe, the lower half to see what is in front of me.

After three weeks enjoying my status as a tourist in Singapore, I get a job in the town council. It is a low-paid job. Nonetheless, I need something to get myself occupied, to force my brain to work, otherwise it will just rot unnecessarily.

"My name is Mango."
I introduced myself to my friends at work. (Later on, I knew that 'colleage' would be a more appropriate word to replace 'friend at work').

"Sorry?"
"My name is Mango. M-A-N-G-O."

I looked at my colleagues' perplexed faces. Perhaps, they thought Mango could only be for a fruit, and not for a person. But my name is indeed Mango, and I think it is a nice name. It is the most beautiful word for me.

"No, you didn't hear it wrongly. It may sound funny, though," I explained timidly.

To me, Mango Valentina sounds more like a name of a lady than a brand of a fruit. In some lucky years, several overseas friends sent a packet of gift for me on 14 February, thinking that I was born on the Valentine's Day. They have guessed incorrectly. I was born on the fourteenth, but not in February, but in November.

Mango series 3

I woke up this morning with a puzzle in my head. "Where am I? What am I doing here? This is not my home. Oh my god! Am I still the same Mango?"

Okay. Now I understand. This will be my second home for a few months ahead. I need some time to get myself adapted to the new environment. The most urgent thing will be rearranging my body clock--reestablishing my daily routine up to the most minor procedure like when to eat breakfast, what to do after brushing my teeth at night, and so on and so forth.

Busy people wish to have nothing to do. They long for relaxing holidays where they can forget all meetings and appointments with their guests. Contrastingly, those who do not have anything to do dream of at least one thing (if not, more) to keep themselves occupied. I thought I would be happy after leaving the college, freeing my brain from numbers, diagrams, and vocabularies. Embarking in a world after college and before university feels like being trapped on a raft in a vast blue ocean. Everyday, I would see the vast blue ocean and the vast blue sky. They don't change. Everyday is a cycle of another. Nothing triggers imagination like economics essay questions or statistics problems.

One evening, I invited Enzo over for dinner.
"Mango, I bring a packet of oyster omelette for you."
"Thanks a lot."

I met Enzo when I was having a problem with my shoes two years ago. I was practising a cudgel routine when I realised that I didn't tie my shoe lace tight enough. When I did a strong kick with my right leg, that side of shoe flew off my foot. I was half barefooted. The shoe landed in front of a charismatic guy whose name I knew later on is Enzo. Enzo was practising some mathematics problems. I could see his face frowning, looking perplexed at my shoe.

"I'm sorry. That's mine."
He was relieved, then smiled. "I thought an alien dropped it from the sky."

Since then, we were good friends.

Mango series 2

Three months have passed and I'm on the way back to my niche outside my good old hometown (good because everything there is good, the view, the smell, the sound, pampering all my five senses; old because all the memories about the place stored in my head are more than four years old).

It is written in my ticket:
Ms. MANGO VALENTINA
Seat D17
Surabaya-Singapore

"Mbak, di dalam tasnya ada gunting ya?" (Miss, are there scissors in your bag?)
A soft-looking male guard stop me next to the bag X-ray machine.

I try to count with my fingers how many times my mother has reminded me not to put sharp metals in my bag. Unfortunately, the advice does not seem to be stuck in my head. The guard is patient enough to guide me on the procedure to solve my scissors-in-the-bag problem. At last, he suggests me to leave my brother's contact number so that he can come and collect my scissors at the airport.

"Mbak namanya siapa?" (Miss, what is your name?)
The guard asks me while we are waiting for a lady to bring a piece of paper from her office.
"Mango."
"Mbak Mango sekolah di Singapura?" (Miss Mango studying in Singapore?)
"Ya."
"Sudah berapa tahun di Singapura?" (How many years have you been in Singapore?)
I hold out my palm facing him and fold my thumb.

Mango series 1

Many people told me schooling is very much better than working. Everytime I meet an adult, they always say the same thing, making me feel like a little toddler getting a light advice from mummy.

This year, 2006, was predicted to be my happiest year.

I had finished my college last year and was in joy to welcome a six-month holiday while awaiting to enter the university. Before I flew back to my home country, I had made a list--a long one--of what I was going to do in 6 months ahead.

What I want/need/wish:
1. Eat chilli eggplant, hamha (pork belly cooked with salted shrimp), durian,
2. Play piano, memorizing Chopin's Nocturne
3. Learn Mandarin
4. Learn to cook
5. Meet old friends
6. Take photos of my cousins
7. Play computer game
8. Watch Korean drama series
9. Read 3 novels that I bought in Singapore
10.Read all the Photoi Magazines I would bring back
11.Read all the Newsweek I would bring back
12.Play with a dog (any dog)
13.Listen to Jay Chou's songs
14.Learn to write with left hand
15.Learn to play guitar
16.Accompany mummy to buy vegetable in the morning
17.Train wushu
18.Watch English Premier League
19.Swim
20.Learn to drive
21.Read newspaper everyday
22.Plant chillies and tomatoes
23.Pray more often
24.Write stories
25.Working, etc.

What is in store for me? Eating does satisfy me, though I don't have the space in my stomach to accommodate more than three meals a day. Music has its own appeal for me. Listening to a good music pacifies my troubled soul in a hectic day. Again, there is always a limit to something. Try to drink one bottle of fresh water after your workout and you will feel refreshed. Try gulping your second, third, fourth, and so on and so forth.