JO, THE PROGRAMMER WITH LOTS OF LUCK

Fresh out of college, my friends and I started to look for work immediately.  We focused our job search in the Makati area.  We had this notion that Makati is the hub of every career in Metro Manila, thus the ultimate place to work.  People used to ‘oohhh-aaaahh’ over anyone who works there.  We applied to almost all the establishments we could find, big or small, carrying our resumes (I had to rent a computer to print them) in a brown envelope with our 2x2 id pictures, just in case.  Recopying these id pictures was costly so as much as possible, we only gave them out to those who were serious enough to line us up for interviews.  The Internet was not yet popular that time and not everybody had access to it.  Companies then were not yet crazy over on-line applications.  I tell you, those were gruesome job-hunting days.

I got sick of going around Makati almost everyday for almost two months so I decided to stay home and just look through the Sunday papers.  It was more inexpensive than commuting and eating lunch outside.  Not to mention the torture of walking from one building to another under a scorching sun.  At the end of every job-hunting day, we looked like we had just been to a fight.

One day, we got news that there was an opening in an IT company which was a sister company of one of the major banks in the Philippines located in Binondo.  Hmmm… Binondo.  Sounds smelly and dirty.  After all, it is close to Divisoria.  That place had not crossed my mind even for a moment but the realization that I was becoming one of those “palamon” in our house hit me hard.  I went to that company with a friend.  Office buildings in Binondo are old and in desperate need of a makeover.  But the moment I got off the jeepney, I was transported in time to the Spanish era.  Forget that makeover.  Binondo has this authentic old Manila feel to it.  Well, at least during my stay there.

The employee entrance was located at side of their building along a narrow street.  “Iskinita”, as we call it.  It was so busy for a narrow space: deliveries, fruit vendors, “turo-turo”, small specialty stores and some “tambays”.  Sometimes, you might come upon naked children running along.  Not my ideal place to work, really.  My father told me later that whenever he got a chance, he goes here for hot mami.  He said it was the best.  Yeah, right.  Just don’t ask where the water they’re using comes from.

After 3 days, I received a phone call from them about my test schedule.  We had no phone that time and so we made “suyo” our neighbor’s phone.  Whenever there were calls for us they would shout our names and we would then run over to their place.  Until now, I am still grateful to that family.  My friend also received the same phone call.  Luckily, we would be taking the exam together.

The batch that took the exam before us included those people I knew from my Alma Mater.  I consider them as the cream of the crop of our college department.  We said hi and hellos and exchanged some information where to apply next.

Before handing out the test, the examiner asked us to share something about ourselves and say what position we were applying for.  Oh, great!  I dread public speaking.  When it was our row’s turn, the examiner asked the girl beside my friend first.  The girl shared where she graduated, the degree she had, and said that she would like to start as an encoder.  The examiner looked surprised.  The examiner said that with the girl’s education, she could not possibly settle for just being an encoder.  The examiner insisted that the girl apply for a programmer position.  The girl did not want to and was as persistent as the examiner.  The examiner gave up and asked her how fast she could type.  The girl answered 100 words per minute.  Then the examiner asked: ”Alphanumeric or numeric?”  “Numeric!” said the girl.  The examiner looked like she wanted to laugh.  I could not understand what was so funny about that.  I would have answered the same thing if I were the one questioned.

Next in line was my friend.  The examiner took a look at her resume and asked, “Ano, gusto mo rin maging encoder?”  (What, do you also want to be an encoder?).  She now looked so irritated.  “Programmer po.” said my friend without any hesitation.  During our previous interviews, we always chose the lowest position in line with computers, but still, I was not surprised by my friend’s answer.  I was not surprised that I also gave the same response.  Who knows what this lady would ask aside from alphanumeric or numeric?  Besides, I could barely type 35 words per minute.

However, I put encoder as my second choice just in case I wouldn’t be considered for a programmer position.  Frankly, seeing the people who already took the test, I was not that hopeful.

After a week, I received another call from them.  A manager from one of their departments was interested in interviewing me.  So we set the date.  And guess what, my friend was also summoned by the same manager.

During the interview, my hands were all sweaty.  I am neither a good talker nor a fluent English speaker.  At one point during the interview, the manager asked me how many jeepney rides I needed to take to get to their office.  I found even that question very hard to answer in English.  She ended up answering for me with me just nodding my head in agreement.  I could have killed myself in embarrassment.  I swear I could see the laughter in her eyes.

Surprisingly, I was hired.  Go figure.  Pure luck, I guess.  My friend got lucky, too.  We were the only two new grads accepted by that manager.  I think we were randomly selected, blindfolded.  Sometimes, a little luck is all it takes.  You have to be in the right place at the right time.  Until now, I believe that’s the reason I got the job.

I was put under the wing of one of the programmers there.  He was going to be transferred to another team.  I was taking over his position and so transition was needed.  I can still remember, he has only one answer for every problem I laid in front of him: “I-Panimate mo”.  Panimate was a debugging tool for Stand-alone COBOL we were using back then.  After some time, I got used to answering my own questions with “I-Panimate ko”.  Don’t get me wrong.  He was a great guy and a talented programmer, too.  It’s just that there are some people who have trouble expressing themselves, like yours truly.

While already busy at work, I could still not ignore my lifelong dream of working in Makati.  So I still tried to apply in Makati-based companies not realizing that my current job was suffering.  But soon, I fell in love with it and forgot all about my dream workplace.  It was weird because I never did get to work in Makati during my entire career as a programmer in the Philippines.

Now I know, it doesn’t matter where I am located as long as I am happy, contented and wanted, then I know I am at the right place.  This was put to the test when I was torn between staying and resigning because a Makati-based banking corporation finally hired me.  The pay was much better, of course.  But still, I was somewhat confused.  I consulted my parents and friends.  My father told me to go with whatever makes me happy.  Wow, just like in the commercial’s “Kung saan ka masaya, suportahan taka”.  Anyway, I chose to stay.

My notion of Binondo being smelly and dirty and old has long gone.  I terribly miss the place where I was molded to the world of programming.  The best years of my life were with my first company.  I will never forget the people, my co-workers, the awful office uniforms, the ups and downs, the laughter and tears, the food for merienda like banana cue, mami (my father was right), ‘taho’, sweet corn, unripe mango with bagoong, and the missed lunches just to be able to go to nearby Divisoria especially during Christmas time.  Yes, one can find happiness from the least expected place.

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From Canada, Jo says hello to her Citibanker friends: Geng, Evelyn, Dondon, Liza, Thrix, Topol, Ma’m Gina, Ning, Bona, Onin, Donn, Gems and to all ex-Citibankers she was fortunate enough to work with.

Comments are welcome at paul_vergelmb@yahoo.com