Plain Vanilla Vent (Cough-Free)
My length of stay here in South Korea is long enough to mold and bring forth a child into this world, had I actually been a pregnant mother who arrived here last August. Recalling the nine months that I have wrestled for my independence in this country, I can now understand why and how I am able to have this time to do some thinking... or reflections, if I should get any deeper.
I just got back from a one-week vacation, thanks to the three days of sick leave that I took on the working days that came in between the May 1 and May 5 holidays of this year (following the South Korean working calendar). Well, I must say that I have always been a smart ass in requesting for leaves in the office on “sandwich-ed working days” so I can have the luxury of calling these short leaves as ample vacation time.
The seven days of vacation that I got (3 sick leaves + 2 weekends + 2 holidays) would have been a grand time for me to spend outdoors. I mean, I have actually gone theme-parking and late night bar drinking on normal weekends. But God sure knows how to create the irony of my having more time to keeping it idle at home. For one, God gave me a prolonged cough, which is actually the main reason why I called for the sick leaves. My body has finally succumbed to the pressure and stress of work that I yearned for my pillows and bed sheets, instead of the sun that has started to shine amid the transition from winter to spring.
In the days that I have slacked it off at home, I couldn’t be more grateful to have such a kind housemate to accompany me to the clinic so I can get my prescription, as well as get my shots for the freakin’ cough that has rattled everyone in the office with the noise that it has been making. And part of the idle time, I have mustered enough nostalgia to create my first picture collage abroad, admitting how I am seriously missing my folks back in the Philippines.
A lot has really happened in the past nine months—- have felt bad and cried over my first office presentation ever, not to mention my tripping by the subway stairs for not getting enough sleep the night before; have used my allotted vacation leaves to move to a new apartment, which everyone in the office knew even before I would’ve formally told them; have gone from jolly to almost stoic in the office, bearing the occasional solo-flight lunches; have gone past six different teams that required monthly PowerPoint presentations that sure plodded me to work on some Saturdays, yet mostly to no avail; have attended weekly Hangeul classes, more so to meet friends and have a diversion than to seriously learn the language; have written a long letter to someone to end such foolish, unidentifiable kind of “keeping in touch” with each other; and basically struggled to live each day not understanding what I am doing things for and why I am doing them in the first place.
I can attribute such unbearable stress to the main problem of not knowing and fully understanding my role and worth in the workplace. I got irrationally carried away by the rollercoaster run of its environment, struggling to grip on the rails, yet keeping my eyes shut. There was of course that great, pleasant welcome to the prestige of such tenure, but it was so easy to forego, given the bloated expectations born out of my “special” case. I am a foreigner, a young breed at that, stereotyped to be full of potential. They think that I have a second tongue to express myself more, and so they believe that everything is comprehensible.
Sometimes though, what you think your mind understands is not sincerely read by the heart that is trapped by the ambiguity of the ground where you should really step on. You then think if the biggest decision that you had to make in your life was actually worth the stake.
I am not complaining about where I am now. It would be of extreme arrogance to act and even think that way. There are people who would so much want to be in the same field of work that I am currently in, and they can anytime despise me and make themselves more worthy to take my place, if they hear me not realizing how I am plain lucky to even have this job. I guess what I just need is that concrete tag above my head that tells of what I should be really doing to contribute to the workplace that I am in. A ROLE. No matter how minute and miniscule it is, is worth my much-clamored identity in this foreign land.
Ending my first day at work after this long vacation, relaxed as ever with no for-work-sake task so far (I hope it won’t be too long though), I hope to firm myself with my role as I learn the changes in my workplace today. I am technically part of a team, and it is faintly drawing the borders to my “identity” tag.
I just got back from a one-week vacation, thanks to the three days of sick leave that I took on the working days that came in between the May 1 and May 5 holidays of this year (following the South Korean working calendar). Well, I must say that I have always been a smart ass in requesting for leaves in the office on “sandwich-ed working days” so I can have the luxury of calling these short leaves as ample vacation time.
The seven days of vacation that I got (3 sick leaves + 2 weekends + 2 holidays) would have been a grand time for me to spend outdoors. I mean, I have actually gone theme-parking and late night bar drinking on normal weekends. But God sure knows how to create the irony of my having more time to keeping it idle at home. For one, God gave me a prolonged cough, which is actually the main reason why I called for the sick leaves. My body has finally succumbed to the pressure and stress of work that I yearned for my pillows and bed sheets, instead of the sun that has started to shine amid the transition from winter to spring.
In the days that I have slacked it off at home, I couldn’t be more grateful to have such a kind housemate to accompany me to the clinic so I can get my prescription, as well as get my shots for the freakin’ cough that has rattled everyone in the office with the noise that it has been making. And part of the idle time, I have mustered enough nostalgia to create my first picture collage abroad, admitting how I am seriously missing my folks back in the Philippines.
A lot has really happened in the past nine months—- have felt bad and cried over my first office presentation ever, not to mention my tripping by the subway stairs for not getting enough sleep the night before; have used my allotted vacation leaves to move to a new apartment, which everyone in the office knew even before I would’ve formally told them; have gone from jolly to almost stoic in the office, bearing the occasional solo-flight lunches; have gone past six different teams that required monthly PowerPoint presentations that sure plodded me to work on some Saturdays, yet mostly to no avail; have attended weekly Hangeul classes, more so to meet friends and have a diversion than to seriously learn the language; have written a long letter to someone to end such foolish, unidentifiable kind of “keeping in touch” with each other; and basically struggled to live each day not understanding what I am doing things for and why I am doing them in the first place.
I can attribute such unbearable stress to the main problem of not knowing and fully understanding my role and worth in the workplace. I got irrationally carried away by the rollercoaster run of its environment, struggling to grip on the rails, yet keeping my eyes shut. There was of course that great, pleasant welcome to the prestige of such tenure, but it was so easy to forego, given the bloated expectations born out of my “special” case. I am a foreigner, a young breed at that, stereotyped to be full of potential. They think that I have a second tongue to express myself more, and so they believe that everything is comprehensible.
Sometimes though, what you think your mind understands is not sincerely read by the heart that is trapped by the ambiguity of the ground where you should really step on. You then think if the biggest decision that you had to make in your life was actually worth the stake.
I am not complaining about where I am now. It would be of extreme arrogance to act and even think that way. There are people who would so much want to be in the same field of work that I am currently in, and they can anytime despise me and make themselves more worthy to take my place, if they hear me not realizing how I am plain lucky to even have this job. I guess what I just need is that concrete tag above my head that tells of what I should be really doing to contribute to the workplace that I am in. A ROLE. No matter how minute and miniscule it is, is worth my much-clamored identity in this foreign land.
Ending my first day at work after this long vacation, relaxed as ever with no for-work-sake task so far (I hope it won’t be too long though), I hope to firm myself with my role as I learn the changes in my workplace today. I am technically part of a team, and it is faintly drawing the borders to my “identity” tag.
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