...melbourne...

It’s 10:48 pm, on a Tuesday night. I am two hours into the future – at least from where I came from, I am. I don’t know, but there’s just something in time zones that my body has a trouble adjusting to. It’s like a diesel engine, needing some warming up before it operates in optimum shape. I’m not saying my body is out of shape, although that’s arguable.

I got to the airport the other day and took a flight in a Boeing 777 Time Machine. I was cramped into a small chair for eight hours just so I can be warped two hours into the future. You will catch up on my time soon.

My flight landed in Melbourne at 6:30am, and being that the scheduled training I came here for was at 9:00am, naturally I was late. I came in at 10:00am, relieved that the Aussies haven’t called the immigration yet to ask where in the world I was. I settled down, after the usual introductions and pleasantries. I think just about then I was officially in a different culture.

Lunch was one big potato sliced in strips and looked like it was given a long hot bath in boiling oil. It was paired with one fillet of fish. That was it. The locals call it Fish ‘N Chips. Apparently, this is a staple food here. From where I come from, that’s what we eat on Friday nights out painting the town red. Or pink, depending on our moods.

I am Filipino. I need rice, like morphine, or cocaine.

I spent the rest of the first training day fighting sleep. Backtracking a bit, planes never really are the ideal places to catch forty winks. I think I only got 15 and a half. I lost count when I dozed off. So my body decided to try and reclaim the other 24 and a half missing winks that afternoon. My eyes became heavy like there was an oompa-loompa sitting on the lids. But I fought it off, and survived the last four training hours. Going back into the hotel, the thought of hugging the soft satin sheets and fluffy white pillows was more tempting than any of the beautiful Melbournians that I passed by on the street. And sleep I did.

I woke up this morning at 7:00am. At least that’s what my watch said. It was a delightful sleep. And the waking up part seemed perfect. Until I realized my watch was still telling me what time it was in Manila. I forgot I how Philippine Air Lines had already warped me two hours into the future! I hurriedly got ready, but never missing any of my morning rituals. I even had breakfast like a good kid. I arrived at the office at 10:00am, like I did yesterday. The blokes didn’t ask me what happened, like it was a usual thing for them for me to be late. I simply took it as something good; I didn’t have to explain anything to anyone. But then again, something tells me that there’s something not right about it. I don’t know.

Lunch this morning was something different, a lot closer to home. Not really home, but close. The Aussies went to get a Sub, and my Asian brothers didn’t quite like more bread. Certainly no more oil bathing potatoes! So we separated from the whites like Apartheid advocates, and dragged our brown butts into an Asian restaurant two blocks away and had our hearts, err stomachs, filled with rice. Now that’s lunch.

My body had recovered enough winks already, and I think I could swear I’m a Melbournian myself. Or not. So tonight I am writing this blog in the comfort of my warm hotel room. I have heater. So the 8-degree air outside can’t bury it’s frosty bite into my warm butt tonight. I am watching Sopranos on tv, and that’s not something I usually do.

Then again, warping two hours into the future isn’t something I usually do too…