just wonging.

I wonder how people feel when they visit the home country of their domestic helper. Probably nothing special. These constant travels have pulled me ever closer to this region, which was once so close but of which I knew nothing about. The beauty of business travels, sometimes, is that it provides one's perspectives at all levels, including the work culture, the country's market and consumer behavior, and a usual traveler's casual observations during temporary immersion. Hiring of domestic helpers arise out of necessity, I suppose. We pay them lower wages, grant them a special type pf visa, and they have no hope of becoming permanent resident after satisfying the minimum requirements of conversion required for an "ordinary" expat. And that is supposed to be normal in many's eyes. It is a not so friendly world, one's rights in a foreign country is closely tied to one's class, nation, and line of work one is subject to.  But even then, they get paid...

Looking at my hometown from a distance. As a temporarily indefinite settler. I must have forgotten when I started noticing the ubiquity of live human flesh recorders, mainly present on the vehicle designed for mass transit. I am certain however of my initial reaction, as it has been consistent till this day; annoyance. It was no wonder I avoided this mode of transportation when time was reasonably abundant, but oftentimes there was really no escaping it, for it is the most convenient in many occasions. The unfortunate part is just that I happened to have to get off at the last stop (at that point) of the mass transit line on a quotidian basis. "Please leave the carriage ASAP." x3 Really, thanks. As if I'm not already walking. It is sometimes difficult enough to get to work, let alone being hurried from behind while you're about to leave the train. But you can't be excused from this treatment anywhere within the proximity of this vehicle. As you ascend t...