‘Familiarity breeds contempt’. Before I
find my job a run of the mill to be written about, I would very much like to
document it for future amusement.
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I casted my vision across the waters. The
ocean is so vast that she fused herself to the sky. Wind was omnipresent. Some
stroking my hair. Turquoise waves were camouflaging local beings that I somehow
managed to make out as a school of fish swarming. The evening was getting
chilly as I let some hot chocolate warm my lips. I took a lungful of sea breeze
again. Fresh scent of the salty sea streamed into my nostrils. At last, I am
away from the city- a place where we appreciate aquatic geology as monsoon
drains and man made lakes. It takes quite some conviction to down the fact that
I am now water-borne, away from traffic jams and mobile phones. A good absence
from land, which even the nearest from us lies hundreds of meters below our
feet. I stand on a façade so artificial, consolidated in the innocence of
nature.
I am on a small island made of steel. I
finally embarked on my first real job as an offshore field engineer on an oil
rig. Before I signed the letter of acceptance nine months ago, I heard of
caveats about the price of making a living with this profession. It did not
matter to me. Nothing could come in the way of a fresh graduate, surging with
veberating energy, who is underpaid in a monotonous desk-bound job. Though I worked
in the heart of lacer-paced Kuala
Lumpur , I felt everything else was moving except me. Hence,
it wasn’t difficult to decide to high-tail to this company. I shall be prepared
for the challenges! - I announced to myself. But no matter how much I prepared,
I realized I can never be too ready for the actual thing.
I remember my first cell manager greeted me
with working hours that installed a completely different meaning to Goodnight. The
first challenge of my job was to work from midnight to noon. You have no idea
how much retaliation of the mind I have to put up with every night. Pixies
would sprinkle gold on my eyelids and the silent symphony of the yawn
punctually starts come dawn. The feeling of my energy being munched down as I
worked was so tangible that I had to resort to slapping myself to keep awake. When
my cheeks were starting to wear a natural blush, I was visited by the idea of
tricking the biological system. Before my shift started, I would indulge on the
sweetest food I could find in the galley. But again, the sugar rush was
short-lived. I was still sleepy and worse still, my poor confused body was
steadily gaining some layers of body insulation. So with that stratagem fall
through I decided to declare war with night shift with raw will power! There is
a will, there is a way indeed. As nights passed, I find myself pretty chuffed
to avert the scorching heat and take pleasure in my daily doses of cool sea
breeze. I befriended the moon and greeted the sun arising from the sea. The
hours do not seem so unearthly anymore when friends halfway around the globe
punctuate my monitor with MSN messages. They are glad that a modicum of Malaysia is
awake and I, of course, am delighted to find company. Night shifts have slowly
but undoubtedly converted me into a nocturnal animal- a smiling one.
Weekends?
What weekends?
Working on the oil rig tantamounts to having
no weekends. The rig operates 24 hours a day (So that you can still buy that
bowl of noodles below RM5 for a longer time) Well, how can I be more grateful?
It saves the trouble of cooking up weekend plans! How can you not learn the
real meaning of letting-go and moving-on when there is a trip, wedding or
gathering that involves the whole world except you. We can only chuckle to
cushion the solitude. If you complain you are robbed of a good weekend because
that public holiday just won’t fall on a Friday or Monday, I advise you that
you just don’t talk to us. But don’t pity us yet. I wont forget to mention how
compensated we are working on weekends and public holidays compared to
obligatory overtime some people are required to do. It is not all that bad when
we don’t have to feel sorry for ourselves for walking into the office on
weekends or cancelling plans because the boss just called. Because to us, its
workday anyway!
It didn’t take me long to soak up the fact
that my work requires physical strength. I am pleased to land myself on a job
that kills two birds with one stone. It saves extra trips to the park after
working hours. My term in KLCC taught me how to be disgusted with my flabs from
a job that requires nothing more than the movement of the eyeballs over the
monitor. Ask any of my family and friends and they will tell you how much an
advocate of exercise I am. Even so, my unique vocation did not fail to surprise
me again. To begin with, we are plastered to our thick coverall uniforms
everyday. We carry a pair of metal in our safety boots and balance a bulking
helmet on our heads. On our noses, rests a pair of safety glasses. When I first
cladded my full set of safety gears, my joints were stiff as if cemented. Armoured
with the stated, we have to work at a rate of knots. Talk about burning
calories! Up steep ladders and down low pits, engineers around me work as if
they are weightless. I had to crack up my stiff body to be agile like them. Like
commonly joked among ourselves during university, engineers are, a matter of
fact, labourers with a high paycheck. Although most of the time, we cannot seem
to detach ourselves from artificial intelligence, there are times we cannot
differentiate ourselves from blue-collared workers as well (literally too as
our uniform colour is blue) Lifting loads, flexing muscles and sweating buckets
are all part of the job. Some of my girl friends would cringe at the sound of
that. But in the end, my dears, don’t ask us how we get fit without Power Yoga
or Combat Aerobics.
Foodie’s
haven
Many wonder what keeps us alive and kicking
in a place marooned from the rest of the world. Well, food of course! The best
way to a man’s heart is through the stomach. I can assure you, it works for
ladies too. What makes you think we could survive so gallantly at sea without Starbucks,
GSC and The Curve? Our magic kitchen! Well, the food there is not majestic,
really. The menu merely alternates between steak, lamb shank, roasted chicken,
braised duck, baked salmon, prawns and crabs (talk about calories!) Add
lobsters and turkeys during festive season. For dessert we are almost never
short of cheesecakes, pies and chocolate mud cakes. At some rigs they say, a buffet
spread of Haagen Daaz ice-cream is not surprising. So don’t stare in disbelief
when a round bloke tells you about his herculean career at the sea. In the
self-serve corner, we can always quench with juices from apples to tomatoes and
a variety of whole fruits too. To spice things up, we have condiments from
mustards to Tabasco
sauce to my favourite amber coloured maple syrup. Bragging you say? Change your
mind because all of these do not even measure up to a cup of instant noodles
with loved ones at home. When things become a bear of a job, it is always good
to remember that we work for a purpose- to bring food to the mouth for
survival. As a matter of fact, we always pull through the day because of meal
time. Imagine if there was no breakfast, lunch and dinner- the sun will never
set. May the people who prepare the food be blessed.
Being
a girl
If you think that I am excused from filth
on the rig because I am a female, you are definitely wrong. My manager
frequently reminds me that no princess-ing around is allowed. My fingers not
only have to be nimble across the keyboard, I have to work deftly with spanners,
ratchets, screwdrivers (not bad for a person who couldn’t differentiate a
spanner from a piece of metal). Buffed and polished nails like the ones worn by
office ladies are a joke on the rig. For one, they will always be hidden under
gloves. And more importantly, they are never grease-free at the end of the day.
No matter how much I try to avert drilling mud, it will always find its way to
my hands. Make up? Forget it. You won’t want to end up like a melted doll. And
a little note to hair enthusiasts, your crowning glory could take some steam
treatment from the helmet.
At times, the only ones that share the same
gender with me are the mermaids from the ocean (if they even exist). With a job
description that do not tell me apart from the guys, a girl has her own
challenges when out at sea. Having males as her colleagues most of the time, the
girl has to learn how to mollify a man’s temper. I could take this opportunity
to speak for my sisters who suffer from the bigotry of men thinking only we
have mood swings. Men, as emotionally stable as they claim they are, have
especially low tolerance of hunger and sleep depreciation. It is crucial to
identify what provokes a man and what pleases them because being in the middle
of the deep sea, it can be very convenient for him to get rid of you. Perhaps
you could already guess the latter for a typical guy. Which then brings me to
learn how to be discreet about these androgenic creatures- when to laugh at their
pride-bearing jokes and when to frown at suggestive ones.
While being labeled the weaker sex
authorizes us to outsource physical work to helpful gentlemen, it can be undermining
because in some ways we are not. How unstrong can we be if we are actually able
to be away from loved ones, insensitively brace men’s tongue-lashings, forced
to do heroic stunts like staying awake 24 hours, leave our heels and dresses
untouched and abandon shopping for a month?
When paper work and physical work demand just as much . See the filth on my gloves? |
Pleasures
of being an engineer offshore
On one of my not-so-fantastic moments, a
colleague reminded me that I am only young once. What better time to make some statement
in the bank than now. I have friends (or not) who repeatedly comment that I
have no life. I hope they were not referring to the time I catch the sun born
from the waters every morning or when the sea bathed me with so much wind that
the invigoration lasted a few days.
Some friends are constantly caring about my
safety offshore. I thank them very much. I am at my primetime- an instruction
to unleash the daredevil in me. But even so, what for? Oil rigs are now
operated with safety rules so thorough that it could be safer than working at
home. I find myself worrying more for those on land who are exposed to H1N1,
reckless driving and snatch thefts.
I may have thrown in some rantings when I
penned this experience of mine but I am truly
grateful to be on this island of steel to start my career with. How many
people are privileged to land their hinds on a helicopter? Or watch the
dolphins migrate when working?
My
few habits at sea
- I wear socks to sleep
- I make sure I have my herbs for vitality
- I always bring 4 hangers
- I make sure I have oranges in my room
- I bring either Bubbles (my teddy) or Candy (my soft toy mouse) to the rig
12th May 2009
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