Sumalee. Javier Salazar Calle

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On the way to my supervisor, I ran into Teresa and Diego. We greeted each other quickly and said we will meet later in the cafeteria on our floor. Afterwards, Damaso went to his desk and Josele took me to Amit Dabrai, the Indian who was my new boss.

      Amit was a very dry and smug person. He told me broadly what the project was about as if he was doing me a favour and showed me to my desk, where my laptop was already waiting for me. I signed all the laptop and cell phone papers and settled in my spot. Amit shared with me a cloud folder with all the documentation and told me that Jerome, who was my partner in the project, would tell me what was most important to read first. He insisted that I had to catch up very quickly and that he wanted me to start working at full speed that very week. What a serious and stiff boss I had! It reminded me a lot of one that I had in a project in Spain.

      Jerome, who was French, turned out to be completely different then Amit. He was like a goat, crazy as a goat. To define him as an extrovert was falling short. In addition, he had a contagious enthusiasm and vitality and seemed to always be in a good mood. He spoke English with a very strong French accent that I had a hard time getting used to listening without laughing. He told me what main documents to read and gave me a presentation of the project for almost an hour, emphasizing its really important aspects: what it was, what was expected of us, where we were at and what were the next steps we had to take. All that after going to the cafeteria and chatting with Tere and Diego.

      Later Josele accompanied me to a branch of POSB bank to open an account. He had his with the same bank, which was a state one that worked very well. As I was told, being a tax haven, opening accounts was a very simple process. I was asked for the FIN number, which was the equivalent of the Spanish ID card. The company had provided me with the work permit, but apparently you could open an account without it, and you could show it once you had it. It was all formalities. I was given a debit card right away and my online and phone credentials.

      Nearby was an exclusive office for private banking.

      “Here, with a nice wad of cash, you don’t even need to identify yourself,” said Josele with a mischievous expression. “Although they won't say it openly, of course. These people are all facilities to receive money.”

      “Well, I hope I can become their client,” I said.

      Once all was set, we went back to the office.

      Josele came up smiling to my desk.

      “Guess what, guess what.”

      “I don't know, do you have any brown ones to give me that you need to finish before the end of the week? I'm up to my ears trying to catch up on this, but I'll help you in any way I can.”

      “No! Even better.”

      “Tell me.”

      “This Saturday we have a party at Avalon, one of the trendy nightclubs. The one I told you that it’s on the other side of the river, by the Museum of Arts and Sciences.”

      “Well, not too surprising. I’m under the impression that every Saturday we have a party.”

      “This one it’s special. It's a tribute to the Spanish expats. It’s going to be full of Spaniards and expats from other countries. This is your chance to meet people of all kinds and all places!”

      “I already know you guys. I don't think I need to meet any more people for the next five years...” I smiled glad to be with them.

      “Yes, but we need to get rid of you from time to time. You're like one of those hindrances that sharks carry. It's okay to take them out, but sometimes you need freedom. If you know what I mean.”

      “If you want me to leave you alone, you just have to tell me, you bastards.”

      “Just kidding! You know that. But it won't hurt to meet new people and get waisted.”

      “Yes, man, I know. I'm tired of whining around the corners like a prick. Let's see if we find a trio of beautiful Australians in need of affection. Because of Spanish women I had enough for a long time. What I need is some pelvic exercise. You know what I mean,” I said, making an unobtrusive move back and forth.

      “That’s my boy! Let’s tell Damaso and get organized.”

      I got up and we went to tell Damaso about the plans. This Saturday we'd be tearing down Singapore.

      The rest of the week seemed so long. Everyone around us was talking about that big party for Spaniards. Everyone made plans and laughed at the things they would do. The three of us and Diego went for a run a couple of afternoons in an intent to release tension and focus for a while on something else, but all the efforts were fruitless; and on top of it we pushed ourselves and our legs hurt the entire week. Even the corporate league basketball game was just an excuse to talk about the same thing.

      Saturday finally arrived. The party was late at night. So, in the morning I got up early and went to the gym for a while. The legs were done, but there was plenty to work on the arms. Then I went with Diego to a morning movie at the Golden Village Cinema, just a fifteen minutes’ walk from the office. The movie theatre had large seats, plenty of room to stretch your legs and occasionally they had classic film. They were playing some of the best sci-fi movies ever, and Diego and I had bought a pass for all of them. Re-watching Alien, Star Wars, Dune or Blade Runner on a giant screen was priceless. We were both fans of the genre.

      After the movie, that day it was the Matrix, we ate at a fast-food restaurant called Mos Burger, which, as the name suggests, specialized in burgers. It was Japanese burger week and they had some with very strange ingredients like soy sauce or miso. Anyway, I wasn’t too impressed. What happened to a good burger with barbecue sauce, cheese, tomato, and onion and not these rare experiments? Then we each went to our house to take a shower and get ready for the party, which was starting soon, at seven o'clock.

      When I got home, Damaso and Josele were getting ready enthusiastically. Josele was glued to the bathroom mirror with his little toupee that gave him the air of the "King" and Damaso was analysing the clothes in his closet so focused that he seemed to be playing the most difficult chess game in history. I showered and choose a fancy attire, but not too fancy. I didn't want to look out of place, but I also didn't want to look like a dandy. When we were all ready, we went down to the street, where the taxi we had ordered was waiting for us and went to the party. In fifteen minutes, we were at the door.

      The entrance was a glass structure with the words Avalon in fluorescent letters. It was right next to Marina Bay, so the view across the bay, including the skyscraper where we worked, was impressive, with all those tall buildings lit up. Not to say that it was better than the night views of Manhattan from Brooklyn, in New York. We arrived early, so there weren't yet too many people and we were able to choose a good place to sit. At parties, the same thing happens as in internet marketing. The three key factors were positioning, positioning, and positioning. Inside it had the air of an industrial ship and with all the lights and music reminded me of the cyberpunk movement, very similar to the setting of the film Blade Runner that Diego and I would go to see the following week. At the back, on a platform with lots of lights on the wall behind it which were randomly turning on and off, was the DJ plying electronic music or whatever they call it. His name didn't tell me anything, but music was not my forte. Better said, I had no clue. Anyway, he seemed well known here because when he was announced people went crazy.

      We were supposed to meet with our co-workers which gradually arrived until we were over twenty. However, Spaniards only five: Teresa, Damaso, Josele, Diego and

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