TRAINING: THE END

Everything that has a beginning... has an end.

"Dear Mr. Daluz,
Congratulations!..."

With those words, I can breathe easy again. Training is over. The real game begins...

It's been, what, two months since I stepped up to the front desk. I'm getting sentimental all of a sudden... or maybe just mental. Whatever the future holds, I can confidently say one thing and one thing only:

God has been merciful to me.

Thank you, Lord God. Thank you so much.

VENTURES & ADVENTURES

Goodbye Nikka, Chip, Aurence & Merl... we fought bravely in the call center trench wars together, but time and chance happen to us all. Nikka, may the US prove to be a greener pasture to satisfy your "stated and unstated" needs. Chip, always let your bohemian rhapsody carry on. Aurence, the medical world braces itself for your dietary requirements. Merl, we will always be your extended family.

Happy Birthday, Maggie! Thanks for the 24-hour celebration at Mucho's... that was a head trip like no other. I have to remember to say "thank you" at the opportune moments...

You're on your way to Alberta, Canada, Tita Yoly, bon voyage! We'll miss you! Wolverine has never tasted a pizza like yours yet. God bless you on your journey!

Sales! I was able to sell insurance. Cool. I felt like Ewan McGregor in Big Fish: "If there's one thing you can say about Edward Bloom is that he's a social person..." After monitoring my call, my TL gave me a high-five and quoted Tom Hanks from Apollo 13: "And that, gentlemen, is how we do that." The thrill is definitely why I keep coming back for more. A call center agent said to us once, half-jokingly, that when you take calls, "The first is the most painful, then you start to enjoy the next, then you can't live without it. It's like..." then he trails off, smiling and winking.

Speaking of sales and thrills, my dad announced a new family venture: homemade dishwashing soap! As I remembered the character Wilbur Freeman from Big Fish speak of witches making soap out of children, my dad gives us a crash course on Business 101 - capital investments, product development, market testing, competition, marketing, and expansion. Though I support the new division of the family business (my dad is still a self-made management consultant), I can't help shuddering with the idea of expanding into "custodial management," where we could provide a plethora of cleansing materials... my friend Sandy had embedded that saying, "No one wants to marry a janitor" in my subconscious, and I shrugged it off by remembering that Jesus washed the feet of the Apostles as an example to be followed. Besides, The Family is prime priority.

It's all about looking at situations as problems or opportunities. Dad and us Sibs talked about the quick-mindedness of Chinese businessmen, and I thought of my friends Karlo and AA, shrewd success-stories in the making. Karlo the businessman, who once commanded a new motorcycle each month, was thrown a proverbial stone at his clay feet - he is in the trenches with me today until he can start over. AA, on the other hand, is more comfortable with the tactic I now refer to as "Chinese Takeout." For divulging that, I owe her a meal at Sbarro's.

Lastly, business - or life in general - is about having fun, enjoying the ride and looking for the thrill. Even Solomon agreed that life should be enjoyed, since life is so short and incomprehensible. What I liked best about Robert Kiyosaki's tale in Rich Dad, Poor Dad is the happiness he exudes throughout the book. It's like The Pursuit of Happyness, where the ending is truly happy because it is contrasted by the hardships at the beginning.

And that, gentlemen, is how we do that.

MONDAY IS SPELLED D-DAY

King Leonidas: Spartans! What is your occupation?!

Spartans: Ha-woo! Ha-woo! Ha-woo!

If, after all my previous training blogposts, you still have not guessed where I work, let me declare it now with Spartan fury: I am in a call center! Again! Not just any call center, but one with an 8% monthly attrition rate and a fierce reputation!

Yes, indeed... if the seminaries won't let me console people and solve their problems through the confessional window, then I'll do it through my AVAYA phone! I've been in a call center before, but the first step is always like a paradrop. As the weeks of training have proven, a shepherd must not guard his sheep from afar... he must stand in the trenches. And so I visualize the first few minutes of "Saving Private Ryan" and shout King Leonidas' words from the movie "300": "This is where we stand! This is where we fight!"

Most people dismiss the call center as a passing fad. It is greatly misunderstood. A call center is not an office. It is a battlefield. As a tenured agent from a previous call center (A part of me will always be theirs), I know how the headset feels like a helmet, how the psychological armor and shield have to be secure, how the LINE1 light looks like a signal flare, how the first customer's profanity sounds (and feels) like machine-gunfire. And speaking of gunfire, I remember how Superman faced those bullets and justified his (and our) existence: "You wrote that the world doesn't need a savior. But everyday I hear people cry out for one."

As long as technology can fail, as long as systems have weak links, as long as people are prone to error, as long as God can hit a cellphone with a lightning bolt (requiring that poor customer to call technical support), we will stand and fight!

Sometimes, though, I wish I could be a different kind of agent and say, "Mr. Anderson, what good is a phone call... if you're unable to speak?"

TRAINING: WEEKENDS

The following events took place over two consecutive weekends. Viewer discretion is advised. Joke.

It was Chip's birthday on Wednesday, but the unwritten rule dictates birthday celebrations must commence on Friday night to maximize party options. So let it be written, so let it be done. Also remembered as the faux "De Silva-Amane nuptials," it started with a vague plan (as all great nuptials are - think The Bride in "Kill Bill"), then became a field trip as we negotiated the urban jungle in search of... a decent ATM machine and Chip's house. We Cabrons and Spartans (people from Training Rooms 6 and 10, respectively) can only make it so far without our paycheck, and the three ATMs we encountered spat out our cards with venom.
We arrive in time to thank God for the food. From morcon to chicken pandan, Chip's wife Let reminded us why we grew extra wisdom teeth. But not even the GREAT food can keep us away from the videoke machine. As I mumble "My Sacrifice," Mario takes the role of moderator and hands out the beer, moderately. After three-and-a-half bottles, Ian turns into Yoda and gives me a few words of wisdom: "fear leads to anger," "being brilliant isn't unique," "the world doesn't revolve around you," "enjoy life," "relax, loosen up, you're too serious/afraid." This "__it happens" seminar is concluded with "Most things in life we have to learn on our own." I conclude the night by kissing Dimples. On her dimple. Amen.
~
Sunday! Cary's birthday celebration brings us to the Mall of Asia, where we have a guy's day off. Still reeling from the hangover (and my freshly gypped paycheck) I act as lookout as the guys practice Mesopotamian-era pickup lines with the girls at the Information booth. We proceed to Pizza Hut Bistro, where we show off our adult communication skills by mispronouncing "linguini alle vongole." We also have triple-stuffed crust pizza. Cary almost attacks the waitress when she offered ground pepper (he thought she was about to hit him with the pepper shaker), we apologize profusely, and the Pizza Hut Bistro singers wish Cary a happy birthday (complete with ice cream, no pepper). We get in Maxi's auto and take a joyride around... and around. We arrive at Starbucks...and we leave again. We park at last at a gasoline station where we have beer and chips. We talk about conspiracies, movies, guy stuff and other nonsensical things and enjoy the testosterone in the air.
~
It has been four weeks since we started training, and now we are at the end of our theoretical-classroom training, singing "We Are The Champions" to the top of our lungs. Next week we start our on-the-job training at another building. We say goodbye to the pantry people, even the security guards...and head out into the night. The occasion: Training Celebration/Teambuilding! The song: "Broken Vow". The singing style: whatever. Karlo proves himself Videoke King as he successfully belts out boy bands, female (!) solos, rock songs and opera (!). Sometimes all in one song. With food, drinks, song-and-dance showdowns, an awards ceremony and even a "German-Amazonian torture procedure" according to Chip, we faced the future with foggy faces (the ventilation couldn't keep up with the smokes per minute) and digital cameras. As AA wakes me up early the next morning with the text message quoting Jonathan Livingston Seagull ("No limits"), I sit up and walk out of my room like Jim Caviezel in "The Passion of the Christ," facing the unknown with a knowing smile.