Two years ago, being a subcon QA manager for an MNC in the Philippines, I was frequently deployed to Penang, Malaysia where most of our subcons were. During those visits, where it sometime took 3 weeks at a time, I was always chartered to our subcons and back to the hotel. In those rides, I often fell asleep so I never learned the street names that we pass by.
One Sunday, one of my hosts invited me to their church wherein she fetched me from the hotel and drove me back then. Since I found the service very enlightening I decided to go the next Sunday, but I couldn’t remember the address. However, I could recall the landmarks and hotels around it, so I took a taxi in front of the hotel where there’s a plenty and just described the landmarks to the driver.
The driver was Chinese and was very friendly. His English was also clear. He managed to bring me to the place after a few trial turns.
When the service ended, I did not see my friend there who had brought me the previous Sunday, so I went out to the corner of the street and alas, there were no taxi waiting or passing by. Good thing I had a business card from one of those taxi I took when I went from my hotel to Gurney plaza. I dialed the number on the card and a thickly Chinese accented guy responded on the other end. I didn’t mind, as long as he can fetch me from where I was. During that time I had just learned the colloquial way of addressing the elderly so I said; “ Uncle could you pick me up from Penang Christian Church”, then he replied which was so hard for me to understand but I believe he was asking the street name. So I said “ I don’t know the street but it is behind Northam hotel”. But he thought I was at the Northam hotel instead. So I tried to describe all the other landmarks but to no avail, he still don’t know where I was. I tried to look around for signage – lo and behold! There it was the name of the street just right in front of me. I know the word Jalan meant street (it is similar to a Filipino dialect that also means street) so instinctively I know that the word beside it is the name of the street. So I quickly gave the name of the street to the person on the other line. “ Uncle, I am at the corner of Jalan Sehala”. But he replied to me in a more irritated tone and made it harder for me to understand what he was saying. So I assumed he was asking me where I was going to, so I replied the hotel where I stayed. He asked again where I was which irked me, that I raised my voice and said, “What, Uncle? You don’t know where Jalan Sehala is? Blah, blah, blah.” I think it took more than 10 minutes of talking to the taxi driver trying to tell him that I was at Jalan Sehala when a Taxi finally passed by and I was able to hail it. I said to the driver on the phone “never mind Uncle, there is a taxi here already”. Then I hang up.
I was so relieved to get back to my hotel that I did not bother to think back on my conversation with that taxi driver on the phone.
The next morning I took the STAR newspaper hanged at the door of my room. I love to read the thumbnail section where pictures of some bizarre occurrence are posted. There, I saw a picture with the sign ‘Jalan Sehala’ but to my bewilderment was that the place looks so different. I wondered why would two different places have the same street name…it got me curious so when I went down to the lobby I asked the front desk…and she said…Jalan Sehala means One way street. Then I broke into the loudest laugh I ever did in my life.
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