Accents
How old are you?
You are 60 or 65, a retiree. Or in your 50s – being fed up of the bureaucracy – you called it quits early. You are a pensioner who spent the best years of your life in government service. You are welcome to the newly constructed Government Service Insurance System building – spunky, brand-new, said to be convenient. No more crowding in the elevator of the high-rise, previous quarters.
In the new premises, however, inconvenience ensues when the crowd thickens. It is at this point when GSIS management must come up with office practices at its level best. Its clientele are seniors, most of them vision- and hearing-impaired, and I dare say, diabetic and osteoporotic. It’s a motley mix of old men/old women, some doddering and holding on to canes or to an “alalay.” Thank goodness, I didn’t see one on a wheelchair.
A clerk said customers always come in droves at the beginning of the month. My husband Rudy and I came Dec. 1, and true enough, the crowd was really thick with the added “alalays” like me in company. Like the cars in heavy traffic, pensioners were “bumper to bumper” in the activation of their e-cards.
A weary, old fellow who stepped out of line to take a rest remarked that it’s so “unpleasant” that at his age, he would be reproved by someone very much younger than he is. Dealing with old folks is one instance when utmost patience and courtesy is demanded in public service, well, in any service for that matter regardless whether the customer is an adult or a child. Indeed, respect for one another knows neither age nor station in life.
Rudy and I were told to go to the UMID section for the renewal of his e-card. (I inquired for the meaning of the acronym and was told it stands for Unified Multipurpose ID. I just wished its definition should have been written below the caps, rather than “taken for granted.” ID, the letters pronounced individually, is of course in everybody’s vocabulary.)
Service is closed at noontime. Considering the number of clients, wouldn’t it be better if management has personnel who could have eaten ahead and taken over to ensure uninterrupted service? Those caught midway in following up their papers will have to wait, go hungry, or go out for lunch. Better to make sure you come with a full stomach or with chips or sandwich bag on the ready. At this point, I would like to commend the Philippine Consulate in San Francisco, USA, where a batch of personnel take over at noontime to render uninterrupted service to their fellow Filipinos.
It’s a pity seeing seventy-agers filling up forms on the narrow arms of chairs. I couldn’t help asking to please provide a table because there’s ample space in the UMID waiting area. I was pointed to a table outside of the UMID section. It’s so small, it accommodated only two persons who were then conscientiously filling up the forms. Ironically, in the UMID section is a table bearing the sign that the table should not be used to fill up forms. Have it the hard way, huh. I wonder where else in the GSIS are customers having it the hard way. An interesting question would be: Where else in the entire government bureaucracy is there apparent inefficiency??
December 5, five days after the previous month, Rudy wanted to cash in his December pension in a nearby ATM. To his dismay, no funds were available which means GSIS hasn’t deposited the month’s pension. Five days have passed! What of debts and bills awaiting payment, of maintenance medicines to be refilled, of promises and obligations to be fulfilled? To the GSIS hierarchy, will you please improve your system?
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And now, read what a friend has sent in. Points to ponder for both young and old, pensioner or not, active or retired:
A friend of mine opened his wife’s underwear drawer and picked up a silk paper wrapped package:
‘This,’ he said, ‘isn’t any ordinary package.’
He unwrapped the box and stared at both the silk paper and the box.
‘She got this the first time we went to New York, 8 or 9 years ago. She has never put it on, was saving it for a special occasion.
Well, I guess this is it.’
He got near the bed and placed the gift box next to the other clothing he was taking to the funeral house. His wife had just died.
He turned to me and said:
“Never save something for a special occasion.
Every day in your life is a special occasion.”
I still think those words changed my life.
Now I read more and clean less.
I sit on the porch without worrying about anything.
I spend more time with my family, and less at work.
I understood that life should be a source of experience to be lived up to, not survived through.
I no longer keep anything.
I use crystal glasses every day...
I’ll wear new clothes to go to the supermarket, if I feel like it.
I don’t save my special perfume for special occasions. I use it whenever I want to.
The words ‘Someday...’ and ‘ One day...’ are fading away from my dictionary.
If it’s worth seeing, listening or doing, I want to see, listen or do it now...
I don’t know what my friend’s wife would have done if she knew she wouldn’t be there the next morning, this nobody can tell.
I think she might have called her relatives and closest friends.
She might call old friends to make peace over past quarrels.
I’d like to think she would go out for Chinese, her favorite food.
It’s these small things that I would regret not doing, if I knew my time had come.
Each day, each hour, each minute, is special.
Live for today, for tomorrow is promised to no-one.
Email: lagoc@hargray.com
