Value Added

I agree with my preacher.  For him, one of the best places to experience real service is at a five-star hotel. You do not have to book a stay, just ask where the men’s room is (or the ladies room, for that matter) and expect to be escorted to your purpose. They do not merely point the way, they lead the way.

I would like to add that there are supermarkets staffs, rare they maybe, with the same 5-star attitude. I am not only pointed to the aisle where the dried Kafir lime leaves are but am actually led to them.

I love being treated this way. It makes me feel like royalty. It feels good to be seen as a person and not merely a number or a prospect.

Sadly, this type of thinking is grossly missing in most businesses these days. The focus is at ramming as much and as many products as possible, needed or otherwise, down the customer’s throat. No time for relationships, no time for connection, nothing personal only business.

Lucky for mountain bikers like me, there is one company that believes on seeing their customers as persons. Not only did they pioneer a product that will allow mortals like me enjoy the benefits of a mechanical upgrade only the mega rich can afford, they went further by investing on engineering research aimed at addressing issues that comes with innovation. They led the effort.

It is rare for a company to develop a well engineered add-on to improve the performance of an already good product and then included it as a freebie in their subsequent deliveries. More than good, now the user has something better. And never wanting to ignore early adapters, they offer the add-on at prices nearly half their competition. As Stitch would say, “No one gets left behind.”

Importantly, they welcome technical opinion from people keen on elevating the sport, whether they buy from their catalog or not.

This practice creates one important impression: the customer is king. It makes the loudest marketing noise and fosters brand loyalty.

Seth Godin once issued a challenge: rather than find people who will buy your product, find products people will buy. One company rose to the challenge.

What makes me brave the trails more than personal skills are the parts I chose to install. Knowing fully well heart and foresight was involved in developing my equipment, I climb that hill with confidence. I know things will never fall apart, thanks greatly to that company who never saw me as a number but as king.

To Find Joy in Incompleteness

The moment I learned about it I started losing sleep. It was definitely a level up. It might not be an Iphone5s like the one it replaced but the freedom that comes with a smart phone is, for this bumpkin, mind boggling.

My current Samsung is a far cry. With its temperamental keyboard that sometimes require severe pounding before it displays an “a”, its minuscule screen, the overly low resolution camera, and its WiFi un-readiness, I am in need of change. Yes, this one coming is definitely something to be excited about.

And an IPhone, no matter if it is only a hand me down IPhone4, carries with it some bragging rights. I would like to believe this last one was the main reason for my lack of sleep.

Alas, the road to happiness can sometimes be gutted with slippery roots and deep ruts. As we later discovered, this model needs to be factory unlocked before it can be used for other networks. Here in the Philippines it meant responding to an $85 question. The reason for the hand me down was I have no $85. If I had, I would have bought myself a brand new android phablet from Starmobile. Immediately.

I went from asking the shops inside the Alabang Town Center in Muntinlupa, to Trinity in Baguio City and then finally a friend in San Fernando in the province of La Union. Desperation brings you places. But no joy at all.

Thanks to the wisdom I acquired from being friends with my mountain bike mate Alex, I looked beyond what I cannot have and examined closely this gadget in my hands.

It may not be able send text messages but my “new” IPhone4 allows me unlimited information exchange with Alex without going through the trouble of searching which Globe promo on unlimited texting to all networks is currently available to prepaid users. I can even send pictures or call him from anywhere in the world free of charge. Viber is heaven sent, I tell you.

And since my netbook is currently taking ages to load Windows (it shamelessly accuses me of using counterfeit programs), with this Iphone4 I receive alerts of new messages in my inbox instantly. No boot up misery hence no 3-day waiting period before being able to access my email.

A few months ago, Cecille treated us for a vacation in Macau and Hong Kong. All the great things we saw and experienced were fully covered by this wonderful thing called IPhone4. I may not be looking as cool as the next tourist with his latest Nikon or Canon but man, I was able to take pictures of all the food we came to seek (then mercilessly devoured) without being obvious. Some restaurants demand you eat their food not make fashion models out of them.

Now my friends know what a pork chop sandwich looks like. Or the two ways to put down a roasted duck.

And yes, posting updates on Facebook can never be simpler. No more lugging my netbook to do that.

I had so much fun I am having second thoughts about getting it opened to be used on the local networks. I believe there is severe injustice in the statement “Ate, please load my IPhone4 P50 worth of prepaid credits." Sadly, I will be forced to speak this language once it is made ready to receive a Globe prepaid SIM. If I can, I would like to avoid that route, non bragging rights notwithstanding.

On a more serious note, more important than enjoying it, it’s what I learned along the way that stands out: impressions are only skin deep, true value is much deeper. Rightly so. What is profoundly important is not immediately obvious.

Yes the bragging rights may be absent but I have yet to find something man made, after my bike Efcie, which will give me so much joy in its incompleteness.

The Other Side of Rude

We visited both Macau and Hong Kong recently. Posting our trip on social media, several comments came up all warning me of the “rude” I am to expect in Hong Kong.

Somehow, Filipinos found as reason the huge number of Filipina domestics employed in that place to equate rude with racism. While “rude” may be true, the view it is racism prompts me to write this entry.

I have had my share of “rude” in that place. I have been visiting Hong Kong for many years and “rude” is something I learned to live with. My sister, who spent a good number of years working as logistics specialist of a semiconductor company before moving to the United States, who faced “rude” almost on a daily basis, admits it is a part of the native’s psyche. But is it fundamentally racist?

I love Hong Kong’s MTR for its efficiency. But what amazes is the speed of their moving staircases or what we Filipinos call escalators. Man, they are fast!

However, there is a certain decorum one needs to observe when using them. While they are fast, there are people who needs faster. Those perfectly happy with the pace of these high speed people movers must keep right to allow those who are in much hurry to pass. 

On my continued visits to Hong Kong, these fast moving staircases helped explain the “rude”, this nation’s progress and why among its neighbors it remains preferred by many as location of their centers for business in this part of Asia.

Why the lingering perception of the “rude” by many Filipinos all over when talking about Hong Kong?

Filipinos loved being waited on. Take Jollibee. I find it irritating that after waiting in line for sometime, upon reaching the cashier many are still undecided on what to order. So they carry on with their “food conference” unmindful of the people, equally if not hungrier than they are, waiting for them to finalize their plans. 

In Hong Kong, they expect that you have fully decided and ready to commit once you are at the counter. They expect that you have identified what you truly want before you order. They expect that you do not to waste their time and those waiting to be served.  They expect you not to join the queue if what you want is still a figment of your imagination. If you behave otherwise, expect to get the “rude.”

Not only on food joints, businessmen friends as well as an acquaintance from one embassy told me the same practice happens even at high levels of exchange.

Yes, they all expect you not to interrupt their business because there are those truly deserving waiting to benefit.

As well, we Filipinos believe on runaway entitlement. On our flight back, a kababayan across the aisle from me insisted on playing his laser sword game in his smart phone at full volume, perhaps to drown the sound of the plane’s engine. He completely ignored fellow Filipinos around him who prefer to sleep through a 3 hour flight. Like me. The hum of those Rolls Royce engine is already a struggle for the tired and weary wanting to rest without his noisy game adding to the din.

Oblivious is what many of us has become. We have forgotten there are others sharing our space and has equal privilege to it. When we violate this, others are within their right if they choose to give us the “rude.”

It may perhaps console those who have fleeting visits in Hong Kong that this treatment is not limited to Filipinos. I have seen folks from Mainland China being told off loudly for barging the line because they find the end of the queue beyond sight. We have witnessed yelling between the manager and a local inside a cozy pizza place along Granville Road, something that will never happen inside California Pizza Kitchen back here.

Surprisingly, in spite of the “rude” people still flock to Hong Kong. Many had seen what this “rude” really meant and with it understood the astounding progress that engulfs them.

Am I going back to Hong Kong? Yes.

For one, they have great biking tracks in that little island that I must try. As for the “rude”, it is a comeuppance. People there do not bother you if you do not bother them. For someone coming from a place where people bother you for reasons only they understand, Hong Kong’s reason for the “rude” is much more transparent. It is, for this student of efficiency, something he can happily live with. 

The Other Lady

This is going to be tough but it has to be said. I hope it stops the anguish. I want to finally be at peace.

The on going telenovela “The Legal Wife” has opened a can of worms. The over dinner exchange between Cecille and Carmella regarding the Monica-Adrian matrimonial discord brought about by the unwanted presence of another woman causes me severe discomfort. My insides feel as if they are in a knot. Dinner, once festive occasions, has become my silent agony whenever this TV drama is mentioned. Guilt.

She is the quiet one, always wanting to remain unnoticed. She is not into attracting attention onto herself even when her breeding is so upper class. She chooses to blend rather than standout.

When I first met her several years ago inside La Vista Village along Katipunan, she was already looking exemplary fit, well proportioned, light on her toes, the ballerina, the perfect athlete. She remains that way to this very day. Every man's dream.

Graceful that she is, she can also be one of the boys if the occasion calls it. She does not mind going down and get real dirty with me if it means achieving a goal or having fun. Not so many ladies can be as indulgent.

She is the uber supportive. With her, I am not afraid to keep trying. There were times when I fail miserably, like on most first attempts to conquer challenges tossed our way, but she endures and stays with me until I achieve full victory, until I better myself. She is loyalty defined, the perfect companion.

But what endears her to me most is her sense of self. She is not interested in keeping up with other ladies because she knows what truly defines her. She was created unique yet never high maintenance, patiently waiting for what I can afford to give. The perfect.

Very close friends know how much this lady means to me. They know the excitement and the joy she constantly brings. They know how she made me braver than brave. They know how she helped me breathe when illness in the family was beginning to rid me of hope. They know our intimacy. They understand and are sympathetic, even condoning.

But my chest is on the verge of bursting and my heart threatens to break into pieces. This secret cannot keep on fearing the light of day. Cecille, the woman I promised to spend the rest of my life with, the one I married and mother to my beautiful Carmella, has to know.

Last Saturday, while we were sitting at the table for after dinner coffee, I summoned all the courage and told her what, for years, I kept hidden. Full of remorse, my eyes dare not meet hers, I told her I have another lady. Trying to remain calm but her voice starting to crack, asked what her name is.

And so I told her.

She begun shaking uncontrollably.  Her eyes welling up and her face turning red. She nearly fell from her chair.

Laughing.

I hate you, Channel 2!

The "Other Lady", Efcie, and me on a date somewhere in Benguet

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Complicated

Too often, instead of just plain enjoying it, we tend to put in so many conditions on our sense of joy.

Take for example my recent purchase. But before that, allow me to digress a bit.

I long wanted a French press. Sadly, the good ones cost an arm and a leg. Check Starbucks' and know what I mean.

 Then a dentist friend gave me 2 bags of ground produced by a coffee cooperative in Sulu. While I was over the moon with it, it has also compounded my problem; the want now becoming a need.

Desperation supposedly brings out genius but not this time. I tried boiling it at first. In spite my best effort to sieve it, bits of ground coffee still found its way into my cup dashing all hopes of true coffee bliss. Coffee should be sipped not chewed.

My good God had seen my struggle and in one supermarket instant, I was led to this shelf where I found my hope. A French press costing a scandalous 150 Philippine pesos. OK it's not a Bialetti or a Bodum or Freiling or a Grosche but it does work. Besides, who says I need to pawn my house to be in coffee paradise?

Posting on Facebook this new found joy, it elicited a lot of responses. Two stood out. The first was from a cousin who promised me an Ecuadorean, (a Perla Negra or a Zamora would be nice) the next time, whenever that next time is.  I just took it as she is married to an Ecuadorean, hence the promise of something special from that part of Spanish speaking America.

The other one is from a friend who wants to know what blend is it that I pressed: Arabusta, Mayaguez, Hawaiian Kona, Java, Blue Mountain, Caturra, etc.. I do not know if he was just being high falutin or serious but it made me ask “why?” followed by “who cares?”

A lot of us tend to make too much ado over nothing. We complicate our joy. We subject our happiness to so many rules. We stress ourselves out because we need to have that perfect, in my case coffee, experience. But perfect only makes joy fragile. Joy should liberate. 

And so I sip this unknown blend from the South. I do not know what is exactly in it but one thing I am sure of, this is joy.