Holland Tulips – Great Service

A friend is in the hospital. Prior to her confinement, she expressly told me she didn’t want visitors because she doesn’t like hospitals. So I thought I should send her flowers, instead.

Way, way back, I asked Holland Tulips if I they delivered. Way, way back they said that they would if the flowers bought were at least a Php1000 worth or more, I think. Yesterday, I called Holland Tulips in Gateway and asked. They no longer set a minimum amount for delivery. Instead they charge between Php195 and Php250 for deliveries.
Ummm. Not bad, I thought

So I had the maid go to Gateway to pay for my order: Flowers (rotterdam bouquet) – Php425, Ribbon and card – Php50 and delivery Php195. Total Php670. A bit stiff, yes, but efficient. Chris of Holland Tulips in Gateway told me he had forwarded my order to their branch in Galleria which is closer to Medical City. He advised me to call an hour from the time we spoke to check if the flowers had been delivered. Before the hour was up, my sick friend called me up to say thank you for the flowers!

Now, that’s fast and efficient service. Congratulations, Holland Tulips. You haven’t yet disappointed me.

Filipinos and Speaking English

This morning, I was watching the morning show in my favorite channel. The mail anchor was talking to a Claretian priest, Fr. Calvo, who’s based in Zamboanga. They were talking about the release of Fr. Bossi who was held captive by a Moro group in Basilan. (I would identify that group if government finally had a definitive answer to the issue, but what government has said has been denied… anyway, back to the conversation of the newscaster and the priest.) Apparently, the priest Fr. Calvo had a foreign accent, but the anchor kept speaking to him in Tagalog. Fr. Calvo understood the questions but replied in English. It made me wonder then whether the anchor didn’t realize that the priest was a foreigner.

Fast forward to the anchor’s interview of Fr. Bossi. Now this anchor is big-time in the network, and talking to a freshly released kidnap victim should not be delegated to a lesser mortal, I guess, so he was charged with talking to Fr. Bossi. Again, the anchor spoke to him in Tagalog. But Fr. Bossi said, apologetically, “I’m sorry I don’t know Tagalog.” Wow, the anchor truly groped for words then. He asked one question which was rather stiffly phrased after which the female anchor took over, more adeptly.

My point is this. It’s not bad to speak only Tagalog well, that’s nationalistic and all that. But if you’re in the broadcast industry, you should be able to speak good English because what happens if your subject cannot speak Tagalog as happened this morning? I found the experience sad, disappointing. I know the nationalists won’t like my stance but I don’t think speaking fluent English makes one less of a Filipino.

Are Filipinos lazy? Why don’t people in broadcasting bother to study English if they are inadequate in the language? Too old to study? I don’t think that should be a factor. Yao Ming, an NBA player from China, used to need an interpreter when he started out in the US. Now he speaks English without any qualms. On the other hand, this anchor I wrote about was exposed to the English language since the early grades, I guess, because even public schools in the country teach English. I also know for a fact that he studied in a private Catholic school for college. Sad… I hope his experience this morning will make him sit up and decide to study how to conduct interviews in English. Sure he has a masa image and all that, but he should also set the example to the people he may claim to cater to that like him (should he finally decide to), they can also learn to speak English and other new things. It will only help them get ahead…

I hope should he somehow learn of this observation of mine, he won’t take umbrage. My respect for him hasn’t diminished at all. I’m just saddened that he hasn’t done anything about this weakness of him when it shouldn’t be a problem. He’s not dumb, after all.

Han’s Tools, Shangrila

I’m livid. A few weeks ago, we got our son a Momo steering wheel. We felt so lucky that it was on sale and came with an adaptor for a 1996 corolla. Was that coincidence or was it rigged by the salesman (we’d told him our car model)? Whatever, my son was happy especially when the store’s installer came to the house to install it. The car’s original steering wheel was all right, so with the car horn but my son was complaining that it felt icky as he had removed the leather covering which had seen its time.

Last night, my husband used the car and he said the car horn slid? sank? downwards, ergo it couldn’t be used. This morning I got in touch with the installer. He said he’d come after lunch. When I told him to come at 2 so my husband could be around, he answered back:

“Mam chek m na kng mrn ako naitabi adaptor. Parang kulang yng kinabit dyan. Kng wala ako. Tx kita. Dalhin na lang ninyo car Saturday. Sa Hans.”

I texted back, “Didn’t you use the adaptor that came with the steering wheel?”

His reply: “Yes. Parang kulang wacer yan man.” (So why did he install it if the parts weren’t complete?)

I texted back: “My husband will wait for you at 2 this afternoon. Please come.”

He texted back: “Kahit pumunta ako dyan kng wala washer. Use les.. Kaya nga tinanong ko yng saletman kng sure tama lahat. Sure daw. D na sa akin pinakita.”

I called Han’s Tools and berated the one who answered me. What sloppy service. Imagine if the horn had conked out while there was heavy traffic and a car or truck in front of ours was moving back. We’d just have to watch it hit us, or maybe shout? Crazy. Or worse, what if a pedestrian were crossing and the one driving our car couldn’t honk? I dread the could have beens.

I insisted with Raymalin of Han’s to send the installer over to the house to fix the problem this afternoon.

Minutes later, he called back to say we should bring the car to Hans at 330 this p.m.

My goodness, what if the scenarios I painted came true? I insisted the installer should fix the problem here in the house. The Hans guy said he’d refer the problem to the manager.

Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy… He still hasn’t called.

PS At around 4 this p.m. the installer came. To cut a long story short, after he finished fixing the horn, he came in to see me. He asked for transpo fare. P300 he said, because he took a taxi. The nerve. But so I could get him out of the house, I asked my husband to give him the money. Earlier he was saying (when my husband wasn’t around yet) that maybe the horn was pushed too hard by my husband. I told him “Sabihin mo sa kanya.” He immediately buckled and said, “Hindi na po kailangan, okay na yon.” Natakot? Ang antipatiko. I hope I never see him again. Before he left he told the maid “hindi pa ata natuwa si Ma’am.” How could I be when he was so arrogant. he showed me the washer, two types. He said he had one kind in the house and had to go to Han’s to get what was for the car. I asked him why he installed the steering wheel when he knew the washer was missing. He said, “Sa iba kasi pupwede naman yon eh. Matigas lang siguro ang pagpindot.” kakainis…………

Instituto Cervantes, Manila

This will be sketchy at best as I don’t want my blood pressure to go up, in a manner of speaking. Last week my sister told me there was going to be a guitar-cello recital at Instituto Cervantes. She asked if my husband, son and I wanted to go. it was a free recital, she said, so I said yes to her invitation. Saturday we picked her and her daughter up. Show was slated to start at 8 p.m., we were at the venue’s lobby by 7:15. There was a light shower outside and the entrance didn’t have an awning so we got wet, but what the heck, we were going to listen to good classical music.

As people were streaming in, the lobby was filling up. I wondered why we weren’t let into the hall yet but my sister said there was a movie screening ongoing. Fine. we people watched. Saw the Orosa sisters, one of whom writes reviews on performances for Philippine Star’s Sunday magazine, Starweek. The young mestiza lady assured us we could all be accommodated because that had never been a problem in any of the performances at Instituto. (She and my niece knew each other but for naught, as you’ll read later.)

Fast forward to 8 p.m. Someone announced, “Those with reservations may go in first.” The man had a typewritten list of names against which he checked those coming in. Fine. Shortly after those in the list and a few others not in the list went inside the venue, what do you know, the man was moving his palms signifying “no more room.” By then the lobby still had a good number waiting to be let in. But the man, now looking like the bad guy in The Matrix was adamant. In true Espanol fashion. “I’m sorry,” he said though he didn’t look apologetic at all. The Filipino by the doorway pointed to me and he called me and my husband asking, “You have reservations?” I said, “No.” He looked at the hall, waved us in with a “tsk, tsk” expression. As the Filipinos were adding chairs to the aisles, he signaled for them to stop doing so. The Filipinos meekly obeyed. I asked my husband to tell him we had 3 other companions outside and he looked at us, one eyebrow raised, “Sorry. You should feel lucky you’re in.” Pray tell, he meant our companions would just have to go home? I told my husband we should leave but he said he’d let our son take his place. I guess at that point my husband thought they’d change their policy and let everyone in. When my son finally came in in lieu of my husband, my son said, “Mama, nakakahiya kina tita. Let’s go out.” That’s what I wanted to do in the first place. So we left the hall and the Espanol didn’t look like he cared. He ignored us. Once outside, although I’d have wanted to leave right away because I found the place and people so inhospitable, my other companions chose to linger. How optimistic of them. It was 8:15 by then. The Spanish guitarist and the British cellist didn’t enter the venue and chose to talk to the Matrix contravida lookalike. They managed to thaw him a little because he let a few more enter but unluckily for us, we weren’t among those. I pitied most the young men and ladies who were obviously music students because some of them even had guitar cases with them. Possibly they came straight from school.

Bully for the Instituto for being so inefficient. They should have given numbers to people entering the lobby so they’d have known when to stop letting people in. We waited for an hour only to be shooed away.

Of course the Orosa sisters were let in. So that this happened will never be known to the general public. They took care of media, maybe because they were media and old. Oh well, that’s the last Instituto Cervantes will see of me.

I thought this would be sketchy but I guess I was just too angry to stop.

the experience brought to mind my experience in Germany 26 years ago. My sister brought us to a recital. The hall was full. what do you know, the organizers let the overflow crowd go up the stage to watch the concert/recital from there.

Very helpful, interesting, informative websites

From time to time I will update this list.

1. For definitions of words, etc.: http://encarta.msn.com/
2. For Philippine entertainment news and gossip: http://www.pep.ph/index.html
3. For Philippine news: www.inquirer.net
4. For games: http://games.yahoo.com/games/front
5. For info on anything and everything: http://www.google.com.ph/firefox?client=firefox-a&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official ( I bought a book on how Google came to be but have been to busy to read it. Will get round to doing so one of these days.)
6. For ordering stuff: www.amazon.com
7. How to format research papers using the APA (American Psychological Association) style: http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/560/02/

Buying Stuff for the House

Yesterday, just before we left for Holy Mass, I saw the toilet seat cover and it looked uber-unsightly. Being in a wheelchair, my back is usually turned to it when I enter the bathroom, so it was only yesterday when I saw the state it was in. Earlier the maid told me to get a replacement for the bathroom shelves on top of the toilet bowl as it was about to fall apart. So when I saw the toilet seat’s condition, I decided it was buying for the toilet day.

When I told my husband about the toilet seat (my maid said it has mushrooms sprouting– benefit of the doubt though without my glasses on I saw brownish thingies which I thought were grains of rust) he went to the other room where, lo and behold, he found the replacement we bought months back but which he hadn’t gotten round into installing. Men… the ultimate procrastinators. At any rate, it meant buying the shelves na lang.

When we were in Rustan’s, my husband suddenly thought of getting a curtain rod for the other toilet. The one before had sagged and was removed. We didn’t bother to have it replaced because I thought it would mean drilling the walls again. I hate it when walls are bored because what if suddenly you don’t want what ever you put in there any longer? Then you get a gaping hole which is so unsightly.

Anyway in Rustan’s we saw this curtain rod that had no screws. Instead its length was adjustable. One just had to tug to get the desired length. And it cost less than P400. So we got that. Unfortunately the only shower curtain in Rustan’s that would have suited the yellow bathroom had bamboo prints (nice enough) but was too costly: P2800. Further, it didn’t seem water proof. So scratch the idea. Decided to put up a spare shower curtain in the house with Chinese (Japanese?) characters in black and red, hardly a nice fit for the yellow everything in the bathroom But it just had to do.

After getting the curtain rod, we went in search of the toilet cabinet for putting in the shampoos and other stuff. It was virtually an exercise in futility as all the ones available in Rustan’s were these things you suspend around the shower. Way too small. We saw a possibility in a store whose nice beds cost a whopping P170 plus thousand. It would have been okay except that it was made of something which we were sure would be rusty in no time.

So off to True Value and guess what, we got something similar — we’re almost sure it will rust in no time. Clerk said it was made of brass but it was chrome plated, ergo a certain rust candidate. He suggested then to spray paint it with metallic paint. I hope it will take some time before this happens. Thing cost P3800 plus.

At True Value we also saw the lineup of water pumps which we might have to get soon to address our flood problem. Our neighbor got in touch with a contractor who’s charging P120,000 for putting up a new drainage system. (our system is connected to the neighbor’s or theirs is to us.) Getting the pump would cost us P8k plus, and maybe, labor just P1.5 k.