Getting Strainght on Old Fears

What do you fear? What's your worse nightmare? Perhaps, just like me, you are afraid of the skeletons you stash in your closet. Well, in my case, my skeletons were in the form of vouchers from my purchases, and the closet took the shape of a nice, brick shaped carton box I once got for a birthday as the wrapping of some Victoria Secret creams from my brother and his wife. (I have the unholy tendency to keep all boxes, because I love boxes and always find a use for them.) Since I have cards, I've always filed my vouchers in an acordeon paper filing system, so that if anything happened, I could always look for the vouches and contrast it with the bank statement. In the begining I actually added them up regularly to keep the control of my purchases, but after a while it was just so depressing to do so strassful that I stopped adding them up. However, even reviewing them, checking them, sorting them out was stressful, which made me stash the vouchers in the box thinking that I would go over them eventually. Yeah, eventually.

This is how the amount of vouchers and papers grew inside the box until it was nearly impossible to close it. Papers bursted all over the place from every corner, every crack, every small slot. I knew I had to go through them, specially because that was the place where my payment slips went too, and I had to make some order in there, but I just didn't had the nerv to do so.

This is how yesterday came. I had gone to one of the banks to pay into one of my credit cards the amount for the hotel in Playa Hermosa, which Kari promised to cover for, and for which he kindly transferred me the money. Then I went to the University, where I met with Mile, and we worked over four hours on our thesis (though the plan was to work only two and a half hours), went to lunch, both of us tired but so happy and full with hope, and then home. Needless to say that I was a rag by the time I've got home. However, perhaps it was because I had paid the hotel part in the card, or because of the working on the thesis that had given me such a bright, hopeful sense, but I stared at the box and decided that I had nothing to be afraid of anymore: I'm paying off my cards, I'm reducing my debt, not increasing it, so there's nothing to be afraid of in that box. This is how I cleared some space in my low desk, spread out my cards to keep the track of the card numbers and thus sort the vouches, and tackled the box.

Yeah, that's definitivelly something, but I still believe that there are people out there with more cardss than me.

This experience also made me think about fears and how, if we face them we find out that the Boogieman in the closet, that the skeletons we are so afraid of are nothing but just a pile of harmless stuffed toys and crayons. Sure they can be fearsome, but we can face them and we can control them. Remember that even when you feel you are over your head you can always get out of it. Discard the stupid chain mails that promise to make your skeletons vanish by magic, or the info-mercial solutions that urge you to call now and be part of the hoax. First things first: close the fawcet that keeps the water pouring in and drawning you, and then work on getting the water out.

There's always a reasonable solution to fight your fears, and it works.

Great Temptations

Well, as days go by I realize more and more that I just don't seem able to keep up with the entry-a-day rhythm I had once. Not that I wouldn't like to, but Hell, I just don't get there. Another annoying thing that happens to me, maybe it happens to others, is that the best ideas come when I can't write them down, such as when I'm rushing in the morning to get the bus. Others, then, are a bit sensitive issues that I rather don't vent "publicly", so there goes a great topic, awesome, juicy, filled with the matter good gossip is made of, BUT it can't be published. Now, if you've read me long enough I would see that often what people would think means squat to me, BUT then there are cases, sensitive cases that, in the name of the World Peace Illusion and the Greater Good, are better filed away, mayde scribbled in my personal journal and stashed where no one would ever see it.

It is Friday, and that by no chance means that I have less work. If anything I've more work. Yesterday I took a load home to check it over, and to my greatest annoyment discovered that some m.f.s completely disregarded the corrected document I sent them, document I corrected instead of sending them the list of things to be done on it, and yet the maggots gave a flying squat about the whole thing and kept all their outrageous mistakes in. How outrageous? Well, let me give you an example (the topic and matters, of course, are changed to protect the innocent): They have a bakery where they did bread. They bought a machine that would help them to make not only bread but also different types of pastry. The machine never worked, so they can't offer pastry. Never could and never will. So they say in their proposal: "we can't make pastry because the machine doesn't work". A paragraphy later, and then all over the document, at least three times they say "if the buyer want's pastry, we can give them pastry thanks to our new machine". Oh yeah, the machine was bought like seven years ago. Hell, some people are simple stupid.

But lets not talk about stupid people because though we do need to blow some steam out, in the end talking so much about them is just annoying, even if it is often so needed, and almost quite tempting to do so. From time to thime, though, it can be strangely amusing, like when you sit with your friends around some drinks and talk about how stupid this or that person is, or tell stories about abhorrently stupid people you know and they don't,or the other way around. Why do we do that? Because something good must come out of those s.o.b.s, whether they like it or not.

A temptation of a more positive kind came my way Today in the form of an advertizing e-mail from my favorite bookstore. It was Book Day, and for each like $9 you spend in books, they give you one book free. Oh dear, do you know, are you aware of what could that do to my finances? Not to mention to my dear Kari, who was happily celebrating that we had shipped over to Hungary already pretty much all my books!

It is (not) evil, and I must (try to) fight it. Resist temptation! But it is difficult. Though then again comes to my mind the case of the books I've been buying and reading recently, and how they turn out to be a waste of money and time, and a hideous slaying of trees.

This is the point where I find the counter answer to lord Henry Wotton's famous words in Dorian Grey about how the only way to get rid of temptation is yielding to it. Well, if you wish to get rid of temptation (and it works like a charm with some types of temptations - hasn't been proved in all of them) a very effective way is to rationalize it. This basically means that given the fact that I haven't found so far anything to my liking, my real liking, in the volumes I've bought (though I still have to plunge into Solstorm), so going there and rushing into a lot of unknown, un-referenced books would be a silly move. What to do then? Well, though a few extra books to my lot wouldn't hurt (much), truth is that I buy books to enjoy them, and so, in order to avoid bad experiences, if I decide to go, then I should go looking only for certain books, certain "lines", so to say. Now, many of us often do that, but then we allow other books to seduce us. That shall be avoided at all costs. Sure, some of them happen to be good books, but I have been running lately into so many lame ones that I just don't want to get burned again.

So, when Great Temptations strike, hit them back with Great Expectations. You'll see that most of the times these Great Temptations are not up for the challenge.

I guess I'll still stop by, check the supply, see if I find anything fitting, but I won't wolf on the books.

Shoes and Shoe Matters

Though shoes are important in my life - maybe not as important as in the life of other, average women - I haven't gone shopping for shoes in quite a while. Besides, due to my new "be frugal" personal policy (it doesn't apply to coke and all the goody food I like to eat, like my greek wraps and hummus, sushi, my Italian food from Barbatos or the awesome burgers from doc brown), I have only bought shoes when there was a real-real need for them. This is how I bought black pumps a while ago to replace a pair that kicked its last walk (and I can't be left with only one pair for black shoes, mind you), a sandalish pair for black shoes (because the price was good and an extra pair of black, completing so three pairs always comes handy), then I bought my flats to replace my broken flats, and a pair of canvas flats so that I can wear flats when I'm not working, and thus abuse less my work flats. So, so far, the shoes I bought came as replacement of others I had but broke. Even with the "extra" pair, bough based on the good price, another pair of shoes broken got tossed into the waste basket.

In the recent month or so both my sneakers ripped. The brandless, a white and red one got the fake leather from the nose flaring up and flaking off, and my black nikes ripped next to the laces. I didn't mind much because I was using my flats now, but then things happened. 

On one side there's this building we will be moved to next month, and in it, we'll be at the 15th floor. Now, after hearing and reading about all the amazing and safe features of it, I decided that I won't get close to the elevators if I can avoid it, which will mean me using the stairs extensively. However, the stairs aren't either safe, so I need safe shoes to climb them. Safe and comfty, because we are talking about 15 floors here. So I needed sneakers, which meant that I had to buy sneakers. It was time for me to replace my old, ripped sneakers with new ones. Now, I was clear from the begining that my new sneakers should comply with three requirement: they had to be CHEAP because I would be using them a lot, so they would rip again soon, so I didn't want to spend too much on something that won't see 2011. They had to be black, so that they won't be too notoriou, and finally, they had to be very comfortable.

Add to the need of new sneakers, since the rainy season has started already, I decided that this time around, I wanted rubber boots. This is the other thing. Thing is that year after year my shoes get ruined, worn quite badly thanks to the rainy season. All my magic boots and half boots have slowly paraded to the garbage can, and those left had the soles quite thin and prone to leak in water. Basically all of my sandals did the last walk to the garbage can too, so I was left with just a pair of "school shoes" I bought last year, which have thick soles. However that wasn't going to be nearly enough, nor I wanted to abuse those shoes and end up runing them. I need all the flats I can get, and along with that one, I have only two pairs. So, this year it was time for me to buy rubber boots.

Decorative rubber boots have come into fashion among youngster two years now, and their price is quite high, their quality quite low. I wanted something durable and good, and hopefully not too expensive. This is how I turned to working rubber boots, known here as "Colibrí" (Spanish word for hummingbird). They come in black, yellow and white, as far as I've seen them, and are usually used by fishermen, farmers and factory workers. They are really strong and prevent water or any other kind of liquids to get to the feet. They are what I need for rain. I don't care about the way they look, since my only concern is to keep my feet dry. This was pretty much the last thing that bothered me in the rainy season.

You see, for the matter of getting your clothes soaked, I replaced pants with skirts and dresses, so that I can pull them a bit higher and keep them from getting wet. For the matter of the water and the wind, which rends most of umbrellas useless, I've got myself a big umbrella. Can still get a plastic cape, and probably will work on that option in the next weeks. However my umbrella is big enough to keep my bag dry, and now that I always use my leather backpack, that's even easier. The last thing was my feet and how to keep them dry. Well, now I have my rubber boots for that. Now, I'll carry them around, and when rain starts falling, I'll just change my shoes and problem solved!

Yesterday I've got both my new sneakers and my rubber boots, which made me really happy, and I covered all my requirements. Today I made space for them in my closet, and took the chance to throw away all the shoes I didn't need anymore. There were my old, ripped ones that had served me so far.  However, before stashing them into the garbage, I came up with an idea that might benefit other women as well.

If you have the mind of job that requires you to wear elegant or formal shoes, this meaning, of course, high heels, you probably suffer often of hurt feet. You know, you feel like the sole becomes too hard, or it's so thing you can feel the gravel on the street, or it simply doesn't cushion the impact from walking, leaving you with hurt soles you can't wait to rub a little, slip into comfty flip-flops or home slippers, maybe even lay down and put them up high. For this we often buy all kinds of inserts and insole cushions like those of Dr. Scholl (when and where available), and many of them don't work and only leave a trail of grey or yellow ground foam in your shoes. Truth is that many of this inserts or insoles we can buy do not do their job, but cost us money.

Today, when I was tossing my old shoes, I noticed that the insole of my brandless sneakers could be removed, I did so, and they were in perfect condition. I slipped them into one of those kill-my-feet shoes and tried them on. A bit tight, but they were awesome! So I quickly removed the insoles of my nikes, which were harder to remove, but still came out good and in one piece and slipped them into a pair of black pumps.

I've always dreamed about having work shoes that look professional and formal on the outside, but are like sneakers on the inside. I believe that's a dream most of us women share. I don't know if I made it, but the insoles I removed were much more sturdy and thick than those sold separately, and definitivelly don't look like the ones that fold and move all over becoming more a pain than a relief.

I will be telling your about the results on my shoe experiment, but so far, from the try I've put them through I can tell you this: amazing, better than most of the things in the market, and inexpensive.

We often keep things we don't need, and we often throw away things that we don't need anymore, but from which we can still pull a little profit, so the next time you are throwing out shoes, check them out, see what you can salvage, and reuse it. Insoles, particularly those inside sneakers are incredibly comfortable, so save them if they are in good shape, and reuse them in your other shoes. Work shoes are my recommendation, since you usually spend a lot of time in them, and the more comfortable they are, the better they feel.

#FollowFriday

If you are a Twitter, a good, decent, recurrent one, you know what's a hashtag (or shall I say #hashtag?), but if you are a damned tweet-junky, a tweetmaniac, a Twitter by your own right, hashtags are something slightly different: they are a tool of expression. If I had Twitter at the office, I would be one of those. Hell, I need my mobile internet!

Hashtags are often used within our 140 characters-right, mostly a way to invite others into participating of different conversations, also to help us group up a given topic, and then, some of them, become a Trend. Trends appear on the right side of your screen, showing the most popular hashtags and topics right then at the Twitter. I often find some quite annoying or boring trends, such as.... #RealHousewives (yeah, like those rich, kept women are actually real-real housewives, like they know what a middle class or a poor housewife goes through), or #Twilight and stuff like that. Ewwww... Some are political or news related, such as #Iran, #Haiti, #Iceland #Reykjavik, #AF440, #Neda and such. Some are for fun like #ilikedtwitterwhen and then yesterday, for the first time in my life, I saw #supernatural as a trend. Awesome!!

A popular trend is #followfriday, which usually appears on Friday, as you can expect it, and it is awesome! Some people like @felipezarate often offers, from his followed friends a selection of people he considers interesting to follow. Other people take the chance to propose some going out, recommend a place, talk about a movie, share some sort of message or thought and so on. In general #followfriday is a party-hashtag, ritualistic almost, as a cyber ceremony to officially receive the Blessed Weekend, where usually work rests and the relaxing and partying unleashes like there's no tomorrow. I mean, just imagine it: kick the high heels off, strip off all your clothes, slip into some comfty trainers, or your cotton, baggy pyjamas, pull on a soft t-shirt, wash of your make up, let you skin breathe, grab a beer or a Smirnoff Ice, or whatever rocks your boat, fall into the bed and watch your favorite Friday series. But that's homy ol' me. Picture waiting for the end of the work day, all giddy and excited, with a lunch that tastes better, agreeing with your coworkers where to go, unless you have your fix place, or getting threaded into the waves of calls and SMS from your friends nailing down the details of where will you meet, where will you go and so on. The one workday when you can go out and don't care about how long will you be out, how much you drink, because the next day you don't have to go nowhere!

Beer even seems to taste different on Fridays, have you notice that? It taste like fresh and more bubbly, and there's some strange kind of excitement floating in the air as you look around the room and see a lot of peole in suits, men pulling their ties loose, women stripping of their costume blazers, undoing their tight and perfect buns to let go their hair fall in slwoly relaxing locks around their face, maybe then held together with a simple hairband or a hair clip.

I #followfriday, do you?

Skating on the Edge of the General Scope

Today I finished reading "Dorian Gray", written by Oscar Wilde. The fact that I was disappointed of it didn't came as a surprise, as the book built up my dislike in a constant manner, page after page, paragraph after affected paragraph. I planned to write a commentary on it, but I'm still so upset about it, that I decided to leave it for another day. So, today, instead of a comment on Dorian Gray, I'll fill you in with a few things about thing in general.

There was job, a lot, and I spent quite some time fixing some details in an eternal-trouble project, trying to get through the confusing mind of others. It was upsetting to have to deal with the fucked up way of working of other people, who seem to have never cared about doing things well. However, little ant me pressed my nose to the screen and worked on it until I've ironed out most of the sticky details, without even having to resource to the Nautilus Spiral. That feels good.

Also got an e-mail, quite interesting with a request to the Management to pull back from the moving, along with a signature list. The request was based on a series of observations the company's Safety Brigade, the BERI made. There was an attached presentation completed with pictures were we could see the many problems the building had. The conditions are far worse than I expected, and some of the things we were told at the pep-talk turned out, based on pictures and expert opinion to be a big bucket of balloney. Like they said in "The Skeleton Key", that put some sandpaper up my ass.  I mean, I don't mind losing my office, specially if I get to be in a place where I won't melt every sunny morning, and location wise it means no added hardships for me, and I don't have a car, so they can fuck the parking lot, but in addition to my concerns about the food and medical question, now there's the safety matter, the health thing because climatization is a tale, air flows are poor and light is flawed.

To my horror, there are no 4 elevators, but only 3 and they fit tightly 9 people, and the worse thing the stairwell REALLY,  fits only two people. I kind of knew this, but I thought that meant it fit two people comfortably. No. Thight fit like. If someone slightly thick takes the stairs, there's no way someone fits next to it. The steps are slippery and in some places it turns forming pizza slice-like triangles, which reduces the number of people circulating, and increasing the chances of an accident.

I would be in the 15th floor, how am I supposed to get there safely, and get out of there safely in the case of an emergency?

Preparing to The New Building

In the nearly 6,5 years working for this company, I've moved from one building to another perhaps three times, two of which were by the decision of the Management. The first time, we moved from the Z Tower in San Pedro to the Sabana Real building (former Alcatel building) in South Sabana, and then, after I moved to the Central Building in North Sabana (the one move I made when I moved to another Division), we moved - the entire Process -  from North Sabana's Central Building, to the Angels of Sea building in South Sabana. Both of the movings decided by the Management were not received happily by the employees, but we kind of got around and got used to the new building and the new entourage. In each case the general conditions of working were mantained, and the major disruptions - for some -  were in the area of location and the routes they would have to take to get to the office, the time it would take them to get there, and so on. From place to place there were sometimes also issues about the restaurants and the dining areas, or how far was the bus station, or just how insafe the location was.

The moving was usually issued by the Management, a moving day assigned, people packed up there stuff, came the moving day in jeans and snickers, moved to the new place, got adjusted, and that was it. This time, it is different. The Management has issued a new moving, where everybody (or at least everybody from 11 rented buildings) will move to one leased building built by the Banco de Costa Rica in South Sabana, known as CELS (name given by the Bank, which means something like "Executive Center... something"), and also Telecommunications Tower (name given by our bright and creative managers). Since the whole leasing of this building was surrounded by tons and tons of controversy - such as the fact that our managers negotiated UP the price originally requested by the leaser, and that the amount paid for this one building surpasses that paid currently for the 11 buildings to be vacated, just to mention a few - not to mention all the trouble for the employees in 11 different buildings, with different conditions, in dfferent districts. For instance, everybody will have the same type of small, open cubicles, all arranged in such a fashion that privacy is reduced to zero. (I, however, can always find the way to manage some. Like I said to a coworker of mine, when it comes to fix cubicles, I happen to have more positions that the extended edition of the Kama Sutra.) This has upset a lot of people, not only because most of the employees do not-office-related things during office hours (such as messaging, or reading stuff on Internet, looking for images, blogging, checking their personal e-mails, etc.), but also because many of us have sensitive material, handle sensitive documentation and so on, and in a building where messengers, providers and others can walk around, privacy would kind of been appreciated.

It is said that the cubicles can't be personalized. I say, show me the reglamentation where it says so and I will bring it to court. Meanwhile, stick it where the Sun doesn't shine. However a lot of people, specially those with incompetent bosses who, unable to do their real job amuse themselves by harrasing and controlling their subordinates, are mightly upset about that. My coworker was one of those, since he's with my former boss. Smiling, I told him to follow my admirable example and cover every inch of his cubicle with Post-its. These are not "personalizing" of the space, but are work. Ahhh, it feels so good to throw a lifesaver to the drowning man!

So, yesterday we had this pep-talk in the afternoon about the benefits and the amazing experience the new building would be. Experts and the project directors came to talk to us, gave us a lame little snack, and tried, really tried to convince us about the swell experience it would be to be all together in the new building. Didn't work.

First of all, not a word was said about the cubicles, so the topic of personalization vs no-personalization wasn't addressed. Many questions were cowardly dodged by alleging that it would depend on the coordinators of each area, and what the Management would decide. Among the many issues - none of which was solved, BTW - four stood out: the food and eating question, the medical question, the parking question and the safety question.

Food & Eating

It will be forbidden - in the name of creating a better coexistence in each floor, where 110 to 120 people would be working - to eat in the cubicles. Not a cookie, not a cup of coffee (yeah, the end of the world as we know it), but maybe some water. No safety reasons, no reasoned explanations, simply in pro of a better coexistence. 

Question: is it just me or sharing coffee with your coworkers ACTUALLY IMPROVE the coexistence of the team?

Anyway, there's a diner of sorts in the 2nd floor (we will be working in the 15th) with capacity for 220 people. The building will house 1287 workers. So, to accomodate all that people, they will eat in 5 lunch times: 10:45 to 11:30, 11:30 to 12:15, 12:15 to 13:00, 13:00 to 13:45, and 13:45 to 14:30. No, really. The expositors tried to convince us that this works since in the Central Builing, in North Sabana it does. Yeah, only that in the Central Building people CAN eat, and they do it, at their desks, and many choose to take a meeting room and eat there. Besides, the canteen there is slow, so honestly, how do they expect two to four diner workers to attend 220 in less than 45 minutes? Less because they must wait for the elevator, get to the second floor, make the queue, get their food, find a table and a chair, sit, eat, leave, wait for the elevator and go back to their cubicles... all in 45 minutes or less. And here we are talking of someone who doesn't brush teeth after eating, nor has to go to the bathroom for any reason.

When I pointed out this fact (yes, it was me, resistance-militant lil' ol' me), the exposition rushed into talking about the unhealthy nature of eating at the cubicle, how people needed to detach from the work and the office when eating, and parentingly admonished be for doing so. Explaining her that I often do that because this way I can watch a movie while eating, or talk to Kari while I eat was beyond the point, as well as it was beyond the point to ask her how healthy it is to stress about time when eating, making lines, look for a place to seat, or even eating in an environment filled with noise and foul smells form all the food eaten and eaten before, just as the filth left by all the others. Because, I don't know you, but there's nothing as disgusting as having to eat in a filthy, place, with the floor and the tables generously dosed with leftovers (you should see the way some people eat, carpeting the table with half their lunches, and with 1287 people in the building, and 55 tables, such a thing is BOUND to happen), and stinking of 1287 lunches ranging from rice and beans to fish, to garlic, to chicken, to bad cooking and other horrors that mix into a big, fetid pool of stench.

Medical Services

In this building we will have an area of Medical Services, very modern and complete, with one office for a nurse, one office for a doctor, one area for procedures, one area of observation, one area for applying shots, one bathroom and a waiting hall. This all to attend the requirements of 1287 employees. 1287 employees currently in 11 buildings, attended by 5 doctors and 5 nurses... now one doctor, one nurse. But it's okay, because IF they see that the demand of the medical services is too high, they may add another doctor. Again the troublemaker-me, along with others, asked how that would be addressed, since in my experience, currently the doctor I'm assigned to has capacity to attend all the requirements, and yet nothing has been done. At the medical office, the only people that goes on record are the ones that get attended, all the others go missing, nobody records the number of calls and requests turned down because there's no time to attend them, so what would change now? There was no answer to this question, other than "IF they see that de demand is too high, they'll consider putting another doctor". The eloquent expositor also took the opportunity to call upon people to consider whether they must go or not to see the doctor, mentioning the policonsultants (make more than one appointment in a year), and how there's people going up to 50 times a year.

Now, I don't go 50 times a year, since it is a miracle if I manage to get an appointment every two months, and I'm an asthmatic, I need my meds, my check up and now there's an order from the medical direction not to issue meds without a consultation. However, let me clarify the 50/year thing. There are people with blood pressure conditions, diabetics and other conditions that requiere frequent check ups. Let's for the sake of the example, take the blood pressure ones. Problems with the blood pressure are quite frequent, specially in offices, where stress is common. People with low or high blood pressure need to do frequent check ups, hopefully twice a day. Yes, a nurse can do so, BUT upon noting the blood pressure in the employee's health file, the doctor can check out the tendency and decide whether something is happening, or if the person is well. A once a week such check up is reasonable, and even quite unfrequent, considering some cases. Now, a year has 52 weeks, and every year at least 2 weeks are mandatory vacations. Now, would that kindly explain the 50 consultations a year?

Many of us would wish to go only once a year to the doc, or every two years or so, but we can't, and the older we get, the more we must go, so I find it deeply insulting and irresponsible to ask people to be considerated with the medical service. Sorry, but it ain't funny for me to go to the doc, and it's quite a hassle to get an appointment, so I would appreciate an apology for such a comment.

Parking

According to the plans, there will be 687 parking places, which would be used for company cars, providers, clients, special guests, superior management and employees. They estimated that there will be around 400 parking spaces for the employees. So, kind of, roughly, something like 1 parking space for every 4 employees. They calculated that such an amount is ok, considering that the Central Building has 200 parking spaces for employees. Now, lets see the reality. Currently all 11 buildings have parking space and everybody has, pretty much a parking space. There's some shortage already, and people has had to find new places to park their cars, but it is somewhat solved. Now, have they censed the number of cars parked, the parking lot demand and determinated that 400 will be enough? No. How do they know it will be enough? Because it is enough in the Central Building. Yeah, only in the Central Building there are 5 more company parking lots, and still a lot of people park in the streets, and these streets are two long, wide streets with very low traffic, while at the Tower there are no other company parking lots, the street is one, short, narrow, shared with an Office Park complex and four other enterprises, AND it has a major traffic flow, with several bus lines there making stops.

Good thing I don't have a car.

Safety

The building seems to have quite some safety problems. For once, the stairs are way too narrow to properly evacuate the people in case of an emergency. How narrow is too narrow? Well, imagine again this 16 floor building with 110-120 people per floor in an earthquake or a fire case in a stairwell where pretty much only two people fit. Oh, but there are TWO such stairwells! Oh, okay, then I guess there's no problem.

The building has poor ventilation, but it's okay because it uses an state of the art climatization system. Sure it doesn't work in another building, but it will work in this one. Occupational Health said that the building doesn't fulfill the minimal conditions a working place shall have, but it doesn't matter, because the Health Ministerium is checking it out, and that can (and will) overrule whatever the Occupational Health department says. Hell, I wonder why on Earth do we have such a department in the company...

Add to it, certain sources from the building company let us know, horrified, that the building was NEVER meant for the amount of people the company plans to put in there, the building won't hold that weight. I'd say that's kind of worrying, but then again, that's just me, lil' ol' troublemaker-me.

We were told yesterday that the building hasn't been received yet, and it won'tbe until May, BUT if there's any problem with it, regarding health or safety issues, then the building won't be received. However the whole moving thing and cocowashing (brainwashing) is being exercised on the employed population, which makes us think that healthy or not, cheaper or not, convenient or not, we are going to move or be moved to the new building.

Yupi.

UCR: A Case of Conditioned Universitary Autonomy

Yesterday something quite kafkaesque happened here in Costa Rica. The ripples of these events ran through the different social networks (Twitter, Facebook), through the news, as well as in different blogs all around. Well, at least all around the country. The situation was triggered by many, many things, starting with a law enforcement recount of events that has more versions than the number of fanfics ever written on Harry Potter, and continued by the students and professors of the University that reacted fast and angrily at the intrusion. Here's quickly what we can gather from the media, which, by the way, is doing an awesome job out of showing how tendencialist they are, and how, in the name of making some look bad, they care sheer nothing about the quality of the information.

Yesterday, it seems that a corrupt officer, who is  - in the same article or reportage - a traffic officer or a security employe of the University, tried to get money out of a bus driver in exchange of not writing him a ticket. (As far as I know, University security officers do not write traffic tickets, or any tickets.) Since this happened in the morning, the bus driver told the man that he had no money, but since we was working with a University bus service, he could meet him later and give him the money. The "officer" accepted, and they decided to meet at noon by the Radio Universidad, on the Eastern side of the campus (number one in the map). However, the busdriver decided to call the police to inform them about the case. Quite amazingly, because such things don't happen that way in Costa Rica, and should I know since when I went to report a stalker at the police station they told me that unless I was actually harmed, hopefully killed, they could really do nothing, the police, in this case, assigned him quite an army of OIJ agents, to capture the corrupt traffic officer/University officer.

At noon the bus driver and the suspect met at the Radio, but when the undercover officer of the OIJ went to arrest the suspect, this ran away. Now please direct your attention to the map I've included. According to the law enforcement recount, the suspect ran away from the OIJ, and entered the campus through the gates at the Law Faculty, at the Western side of the campus. It has been said that he did so in order to be protected by the Universitary Autonomy. People here know about this since in the times of great national strikes, many students took refuge in the campuses. So, according to the official recount of the events, and please follow the map, the suspect IGNORED the entry inmediately to the South, by the Architechture Faculty, as well as the entry through the North by the General Studies, and instead ran around the entire perimeter of the campus, ignoring any other entry, particularly entries that can be made by foot and not by vehicles, all the way (route shown in purple) to the Western entrance, a wide entrance where vehicles can enter. The suspect went from point 1 to point 2 to take advantage of Universitary Autonomy.

The agents were stopped at the entrance, since the police can't enter the campus (unless not unauthorized), and they didn't notify or ask the help of the Universitary Police in the case (since the traffic officer-University officer... was a University officer?). The Attorney Office, the Supreme Court Chief, a judge... it seems they gave permission to do so (it's important to point out here that no warrant was issued and none was mentioned), and somewhere-somehow-sometime (you know, details. They are not all that important) they like notified the University, though strangely the Rector complained about the intrusion, the sudden, unanounced, unlawful intrusion, and since the police and the OIJ have the absolute right to go anywhere, enter any place in order to capture a suspect (said so by the director of the OIJ), they ran into the campus chasing him.

This is were students and professors, seeing the Autonomy of the University so blatantly violated, stepped up to defend it. This is were Hell went loose. Suddenly an insane amount of police officers, OIJ agents fought the students and the professors in a display of violence that had little to envy from those displayed in less democratic countries. They weren't chasing the suspect, but beating, grabbing students and professors. Acording to the press, it was a mob composed by students and Unions. You know, National Evil, Unions. In the shots taken by the media cameras, you see police officers attacking with clubs and fists the students, one hitting a woman in the head, another grabbing a student by the neck and bumping forcefully his head into the side of the police car.

There were five people arrested: one teacher and four students. Now, it is not a matter of maths, but no matter how much I make my numbers, I just don't find the suspect among the arrested people. You know, the corrupt officer being chased in the first place. Oh yeah, he was arrested too, but the marked money wasn't found on him. The students, professors and the Rector went to the police station where the professor and the four students were held and there the Rector negociated their release. Two students suffered serious injuries. The Rector promised to press charges against the OIJ for the unlawful entrance, and the violation of the Universitary Autonomy. The Director of the OIJ says there was no violation because "in these cases there's no such thing". Still, help me out here, would you? IF the University was noticed, as the law enforcement says now, why was the Rector, the one who SHOULD BE informed, pressing charges and not aware of the situation?

Now, there IS such a thing as the Universitary Autonomy, it's not an invention of the Unionists or the UCR, and that's not ma mechanism to protect criminals. From my standing point, though the students and the professors may have overreacted, may have not waited getting properly informed before charging like Chuck Norris (though I would chase with a pan anyone just irrupting in my house without prior permission), the fault was entirely on the OIJ and other law enforcement agents and personal. They knew before head that a posible arrest was to happen near the campus, so they could have coordinated before hand with the Universitary Police to keep an eye on the suspect, or issue premits, and Universitary Police Escorts for the OIJ agents. I mean, if I am in the University and see the OIJ agents WITH the Universitary Police I would assume they have permits to be there. But that's just me. IF the OIJ for whatever reason wishes to keep the Universitary Police and the University out of the matter, why didn't they place undercover agents in the area? The campus isn't exactly unknown, uncharted territory. Given the agreed location of the meeting with the suspect, they could have placed agents in strategic places to cut his escape routes. I mean they did have a lot of agents to beat up students, why not to place some around the perimeter to more effectively catch the suspect?

I'm proud of the University, even if it isn't my Alma Mater, I'm proud of them because they stand up for their rights. Just like the police can't run into an Embassy to catch a suspect, it can't run into the Universitary Campuses either.

Stand up for your rights, University! Show the country how rights must be defended against those who wish to take them away!

Three Days Down at 2009's Surf Championship's Headquarters

So Kari wanted, WANTED to go somewhere, anywhere, but out of my folks' house and close to the sea, or the ocean, to a hotel, for at least two nights. He wouldn't have it any other way. due to the pressure it would put on my finances I wasn't very interested about the idea, and hoped I could just go by and entertain him here. Besides, as we all know, I was in probation-vacations this week. But Kari wasn't happy, he needed his fix-of-beach, and having read my entry in the Hungarian blog about the matter, offered to pay the hotel, or, well, transfer me the money. Well, shame to me, but I accepted. Still that was just an idea up in the air, nothing sure, something we kind of planned for yesterday and today (Kari also wanted to stay until tomorrow), since I had a meeting booked for Wednesday. Yep, a meeting in the middle of my vacations. Since Monday I had been waking up before 7 am to log into the office mail service, working on a project that has been blocked more times by a superior than the Universal Health Program by the American Senate.

Wednesday morning my boss called me and told me that the meeting had been cancelled, so sooner said than done, Kari and I made quick reservations to Terrazas del Pacífico, a hotel at Playa Hermosa, which last year was the headquarters of the World Surf Championship. The decision was between the Best Western in Jacó, where we had already been, but we knew that wasn't an all inclusive hotel anymore (which makes it far more sucky because it's no longer that good, and often the food they serve is beyond bad, but then again that's my opinion and I'm, known for being hard to please with food, though then again eating only tortillas - corn flat bread - at lunch because that's the only thing I could eat from the whole menu is a little above my wildest cases of no-like-anything), and this new hotel, all inclusive, in Playa Hermosa where we had never been before. The add sent to my e-mail offered an all inclusive experince for $88 per night, per adult. We made our numbers, and though the total cost of the Best Western was somewhat lower ($32 less), we went for the all inclusive promise.

In the most improvised fashion ever, we packed into a sportsbag some clothes, sunblocking creams and lotions, toiletteries and such. Then we grabbed our things and left, taking the first available buses everywhere. And so, after leaving the house at 11 am, we arrived at the hotel at half past four. We had no idea where the hotel was, what would it look like, but I certainly expected more than what I saw. The bus (we had to take a bus going to Quepos, but get off it before the final destination), stopped before a desolated red brick road that went steeply down, covered in dust, bordered with dry looking plants and weeds. There was nobody there, and it looked like the place you go to make Hostel 3. Rooms looked less that pretty, and the lobby was quite simple. The guy at the reception was nice though, and very, very helpful, friendly and all, confessing that there were actually only five rooms in use, and that after the Holy Week it had been quite low. It was so low that they took the chance to fumigate the entire place. Oh goodie. As a matter of fact, he also told me that I was the only one who was Costa Rican in the place. Awesome.

The room we've got was the 202. No, I have no pictures of it, so you can imagine it wasn't as pretty as it could be. The again, exposed beams, even if well finished, have never delighted me. A pentagonal room with two double beds (not even queen), a frigde with no mini bar, one wood chair, no extra pillows, no extra towels, no notepad, no pencil, one glass... dude, ONE GLASS! Two double beds and only one glass? Dude, really, check your maths. No coffee machine, no coffee... I don't know where was the all inclusive, but it wasn't included in the room.

There was a TV and an extremely noisy air conditioner, that at least worked well. Oh, did I mention that there was a terrace, but there wasn't a single chair out there to enjoy the view? Yep, the chairs weren't included in the all inclusive.

Close to six, but not six yet (half past five, actually) we went down to the bar, to exercise our all inclusive rights, only to realize that after five we couldn't get any snacks, and had to wait until six to get food. Hey, but we could get booze, so we did. Well, only cocktails and some hard licor, and beer from a barrel, not from a bottle. Hn. The arrangement of cocktails was also quite limited, so we made it on Tequila Sunrise and Piña Colada. At least those were good. It was unsettling though, that despise us being there with the all inclusive plan, the bartender and then the waiters kept writing up everthing we consumed. That kind of killed the whole implied all inclusive mood the place should have. It wasn't also very nice to see a set almost carbon copying the arrangement of the best Western, only slightly more run down, so to say.

The dinner offered three options for entries, two salads and one ceviche (raw fish with lemon, coriander, onion and other stuff), and there were five options for mean courses: chicken in with sauce with mushrooms, meat with strogonoff sauce, fish with garlic, rice with shrimp and pasta with red sauce. Three plain desserts completed menue, one of them was a cheese custard, another was a tiramisu, but none of them was really available. The same menu was repeated for each and every meal, except breakfast. Salads weren't like the menu described them, and none of the meals were exactly as described either. Chicken and meat weren't properly cooked, so we had to request them to be really, really, really well done. Whomever, truth to be told, the garnishings were delicious, the pasta was exquisite, and once the chicken and the meat were VERY WELL done, they were awesome. Fish was great too. It was kind of displeasing to be faced with the same menu three times. Why couldn't they, at least offer two different menus, or at least many more options? Breakfasts had more options, but I always went with the Continental Breakast, and Kari went for the Traditional Breakfast.

The pool was nice, and the view was beautiful, and though the beach wasn't good for swimming (currents are too strong there), the shore gave a nice place to take a long walk, enjoy the sunset, collect interesting colored pebbles and shells, and run away from the waves that stretch giddily across the shore with foamy lace fingers. Yeah, sounds romantic... even for me. (We did all that, if you ask me, and I felt a bit dumb, but I enjoyed it inmensely, because I was with Kari :-) )

Then came the nightly experience. No, I'm not detailing our sexual life, I'm detailing the hotel. All night long we heard the loud noise of trucks, trailers, buses and whatever engine running down the road, as if it was running right next to our ears. I've been in traffic jams more quiet than that hotel. Hell, I've been in bars more quiet that that hotel! The pillows were hard and the matress was so stiff, so hard you couldn't sleep on your side or your legs and hips would start hurting like hell. Now, okay, I'm one of those that need to sleep, love to sleep in very soft beds, but this bed was horridly hard. I woke up constantly with numb limbs and pained hips.

Finally, but not less important, though there was wireless internet available, for free (with a password), the connection was SO bad, I, evidently couldn't access it to blog, or even tweet. No mobile phone coverage, and finally, the bathroom was disasterous, to say the least. The toilet wasn't working as it was supposed to. Can you imagine to ACTUALLY have to open the tank and fill itt MANUALLY with water so that you can flush it? Yep. Like that. All fo the personal was nice, though I really resented the way they were friendly with me completely disregarding the fact that Kari was with me, and Kari resented the constant lack of manners as waiters kept serving him first than me.

The hotel wouldn't be so bad, really, but unless you are Spring Breaking and minding not for the looks of the place, go ahead, but for me, it doesn't worth the $88/person/night we paid. But then again, that's just me. You may like it, but I don't recommend it.

Women and Woman Power

There was an e-mail from Political Voice of Women in my mailbox. I haven't kept in touch with them, nor have I been checking the site, which is why I'm not sure about the trail this mail has, the direction and all, but it got me thinking. The e-mail had a link to an entry in the blog Can I Just Tell You, by Michel Martin titled No, We're Not Going to Sit Down and Shut Up. It makes reference to yet another piece where she and her colleague, Cokie Roberts talk about the role or position of women in the political sphere and how these women are still to this day subjected to demeaning comments. Two "gentlemen" were kind enough to provide them with evidence of such comments and attitude towards women who step into the political arena.

Her words, not unknown for me, as I'm sure they are not unknown for any woman who has ever stepped up to the places "that are not for women", made me think about other fights, and how often our worse enemies are among our ranks. As women, we are getting used to work, struggle and hardly take a moment to rest. We may cry here and there, maybe more often that our male counterparts, but we keep pushing and pulling and never give up. That's just us, and that's why I believe we keep pushing, encouraging each other even when there are men out there wooing us and catcalling us, treating us as mere sexual objects wishing for nothing but a good ramble; and even despise the women that support such a vision and play to it, feeding further that idea that we are simply natural born whores.

Truth is that booking every men under the lable of "enemy" would be unfair, as many support us, many believe in us, but also because women themselves can also be our enemies, our worse counterparts in this fight for full equality, not only in the eyes of the Law, but also in the eyes of our Societies, our Jobs and our Families, as well as in our own eyes.

I would talk about this case I know, but since everybody knows cases like this, I would simply make mention of them: the women that use their sexuality to climb in life. If you think about it, you probably can at least mention the name of three women who have gotten their position by becoming the woman of some top head. The revealing dress, the tight, short skirt, the laugher... and not like those make them, but what they make of them, how they use the garments and the attitudes. Those unafraid of offering sex for a higher paycheck, a hierarchic position, business trips outside the country to attractive destinations, and so on. Perhaps you even know cases of women that have gotten their Superior Education Degree also through sleeping with the Principal or several of the teachers.

Cases like that simply make me sad, specially when I see women work hard, suffer much more than men, some struggling with putting kids to school, getting home to fix lunches and help with homeworks, and not to mention those that have no kids but still gara get home to fix dinner and do the chores. There are then those also that have to do neither (usually those who can afford a maid, or live alone and can't care less about how crazy their home look like), but still gara put up a fight at the office to be taken in consideration. Women are the ones more often expected and noted by their superiors or people encharge of the "professional appearance" about the kind of pants they are using, the kind of shoes, about how long and what shape must the skirt have, or even if they have not put on enough make up to look "as expected". Honestly, I would like to see the day when putting make up is no longer an expectation for women, and that getting wrinkles and grey hair is no longer something to be ashamed of. I believe that we could walk to a society where our bosses do not expect us to use high heels, and feel entitled to ban us from wearing pants just because they don't like it. But then even though clothing and personal care are close boudaries where we are being attacked, that must also be conquered, there are other fights we must concentrate on, and many of them must be fought against our own sisters.

We must erradicate the idea that climbing through sex is a valid way to go. This is the kind of behavior, practiced by some women, and accepted, even rewarded by some men, that grow then the space for comments such as asking whether someone would conduct an interview with Ms. Sarah Palin while she's sitting on his lap. I'm not saying that all women, or any woman at all, should go asexual, but we must, as a gender, as a group that makes up for a good portion of the global population, teach our surroundings that our job has nothing to do with our sexuality. Our sexuality has to do with the people we want to have sex with, consensually, by our own free will, and that our job should concentrate on our skills, as professionals, as people. This teaching must come from our daily behavior, the way we relate to our surroundings, to ourselves, to others, and it must also come from our principles.

I'm a woman, but I do not want to be treated differently because of that. I don't want to be treated worse than my fellow male counterparts because being a woman does not give anyone an excuse to mistreat me. I'm a person like anyone else, man or woman, and I don't deserve being mistreated, just like no one else deserves it. I don't want to be treated better either just because I'm a woman, I'm not useless, I don't need favors, and I can do it just like anyone else.

Yes, women have special needs, like time to spend with their kids after having them. Men don't get pregnant, nor they have to take care of babies, breast feed them, and so. These are not "favors" we are asking, these are things that come along with being a woman, and things that must be ensured for the good of society. Pushing this in our faces and say that we are unreliable because "we get pregnant any moment" is irresponsible.

Cases such as maternity leaves must be defended and cut from the fight, the fight that puts maternity in the same bag of "women are all about sex", and "women are not for the workplace". We are not sex slaves, we are not whores, we are strong fighters and we must keep on doing, firmly separating from us those cases that take the easy way, the no-work way that undermine our path, and so teach those men that see us as meet on a hook that we are people, and we deserve the same respect anyone does. We must teach, through example, that being a woman doesn't make us less person.

A day at the Beach

This Friday my folks, my boyfriend and I went to the beach. Our plans for Kari's stay (particularly mine) didn't come out as I would have expected, mainly due to the lack of time for preparation, and because my next week vacations are pretty much tinted with the parole status or probation, meaning that I can't really leave the GAM (Gran Área Metropolitana, or Great Metropolitan Area) since I'm on call at any time my boss needs me, in relation with the CE project. It is giving me a royal headache. Kari isn't quite pleased about this, since he's already used to us always hitting the road, staying at some nice hotel and having loads of fun, taking a dive in the ocean (him taking a dive, I'm simply swimming in the safe parts), eating "exotic foods" and talking about plans for the future and stuff like that. Yeah, that totally sounds like postcard lovers, which I hope we are not. Ewwww! Nothing more disgusting that being lovey-dovey Love is postcard lovers.

On Thursday I washed my hair, and I was a bit wary because, well, everybody knows what Ocean air and water can do to hair, right? Well, mine didn't got saved from the "treatment".

The program for Friday was to go to Bajamar, so that Dad could proudly show off around the 1800 m2 lot of weed and nothing at the beach, where he pretends to build his ten cabins next year and blah, blah, blah. That's so lordlandish from him! In any case Kari was impressed, and liked the lot. I don't like itr much because there's nothing there. There's this beautiful beach, but not a bench, not a hut to change, no nothing, There's just nothing there. On the neighbouring lots there are already little huts or houses built, and here and there some signs of civilization We have a fence, a tree and something looking like a path, that's now walkable, so we can make it from the road to the shore, but there's not one scrap of shadow. That's death to me.

Dad and Kari

Me, Kari and Mom

This is the Beach at Bajamar

We took there a few pictures and I was sorry we couldn't get into the ocean there, since it looked so cool, but we were supposed to go to Parrita and meet there with my brother, his wife, kids and in-laws. We had to stop, though, at Jacó for breakfast, since we left home around 6 am (Dad's idea) and nobody had eaten decently since. Kari also wanted to have Gallo Pinto for breakfast, with salsa Lizano, and well, who are we to deny him a simple pleasure, right?

The Family at the Beach

Ati's wife and in-laws at the back, with his younger son, and our folks and his older son at the front

We met with my brother close to his in-laws' place, and then we went to some beach where they like to go. It was, interesting, to say the least. They had so much furniture out there, rocking chairs, plastic chairs, a table, a grill, Fernando's crib, and LOADS of food. To Kari's delight, there were coconuts, which they collected from the shore, and swiftly him, then my brother started opening for everybody to drink. I didn't get one, because I don't like them. Dani, my older nephew don't like them either, and yet he insisted I had one. Dani is a serious piece of work.

Kari and the Coconut

Ati opening an coconut and Dani checking on his Dad.

Do this really needs captions?

Kari, Dani and I. Dani purposefully closed his eyes.

The visiting was interesting, and a bit awkward. Kari asked me to present him around, but I couldn't since I barely knew anyone. I believe it should have been Ati's or Yuly's place to present us. Dani, my older nephew and my favorite, was running around the beach, playing in the Ocean, which he loves to madness. Him, who has always been wary about Kari, started to come closer to him, speaking his name for the first time, and showing interest in him, though he was still very shy. It's hard for them, since Kari doesn't speak Spanish, and Dani hasn't never really spoken Hungarian, and whatever knowledge he has is deeply burried and he's not comfortable showing it (though he has surprised us a couple of times).

Kari got a headache from the sun, so at the end, though he was dying to go bathe in the Ocean, I was the one pulling on my swimsuit and getting into it. There why my hair ended up like the rough end of a broom, and why today I'm doing the full treatment with keratine masks and the whole shebang.

We went after with the in-laws to their place, where we were offered a cup of coffee before leaving back to the GAM. Now this is when things get interesting.

When we went we took the new highway, a highway that makes the usually 2 hour trip last only 45 minutes, but which is, all in all, over 20 times more expensive, in toll fees. You see, in Costa Rica, the highways that are privately managed charge a max of $0,19, and this one, known also as Autopistas del Sol (the constructor) charges in several segments, and costs around $4,10. The trip wasn't as short as it was supposed to be, but it was a bit shorter.

On the way back we took the same road thinking it would be shorter and that we would be home quicker. Well, as it turned out to be, nothing was farther from the truth. Naturally, the road had the same cost, but, as it turned out, the newly build highway, given in concession from the Costa Rican Government to Autopistas del Sol was collapsed. There were other privatelly owned highways give you two to three lanes for $0,19, Autopistas del Sol gives you one line in each direction for $4,10. From tollbooth to tollbooth the cars barely moved, turning the whole thing into a parking lot. If this happens twenty years after building it, I would understand, saying that the highway's capacity has already been surpassed, but this highways has less than a month, two months top since finished and it can't take the amount of cars taht would circulate through it.

It took us over three hours to get home, seeing in the way many cars turn and take the old routes.

There was no lesson there to learn, none at least that we wouldn't already known: corruption has consumed the country. Why to spend so much money in a highways that offers basically nothing to the people, for an overly inflated rate? To pay favors and let private corporations milk money out of the population. It is shameful.