I had tried so hard to be friends with the American and Canadian. I thought the whole issue with the Filipinos would bring us closer together.
The Canadian and I had worked the morning together and were both done for the rest of the day. I was done an hour earlier, so I asked her if she wanted to get lunch off the ship and she said yes, agreeing to call me after she finished work. I rushed to my room to change into my normal clothes, awaiting her call. Time ticked by and finally I heard her in the hallway talking to the art girls. They were talking about going onto another ship we were docked with and getting lunch there. I thought the Canadian would come get me, but I watched from my peephole as she, the American and the art girls left the ship.
Disappointed and a little heart broken that the people I thought were my friends went to lunch without me, knowing I was waiting for the Canadian. I got my bag together, grabbed my crew ID and headed out the door. As I locked my door, two other Filipino women I worked with came out of their room. Upon seeing me, they asked where I was headed. I shrugged and mentioned I was supposed to be going with the Canadian, but that I thought she had left without me. To my surprise, as my previous experience with Filipinos was not a good experience, the two women invited me to go with them to the ship docked next door. I smiled and said I would love to! For the next couple hours we took pictures, ate lunch and got some wifi. I even opened up a little bit about how hard I had been trying to be friends with my North American paisanos.
That night, though perturbed, I went to the CB with the American and Canadian. I wanted to go out, but I didn't really want to talk to them. We sat on open deck, beer in hand, under the stars. I sat in silence. The girls asked me what was wrong and I said I was just homesick, avoiding confessing to my hurt feelings after watching them leave without me earlier in the day.
About a week later, the two art girls signed off the ship to go home. The Canadian was quite sad but in need of some new friends. She cried as she said her goodbyes and I was surprised since they had only known each other a few months. I just happened to be the only other North American on board, and from then on she became one of my best friends. So did her American roommate. One drunk night, the American got a bit crazy and grabbed handfuls of condoms from the medical center (crew gets them for free!) and spread them in front of all the Filipinos doors, as I made a video. It was like our way to secretly get back at them for bringing our personal lives into work by telling our YD. I finally felt like I had some good friends.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
North American Paisanos vs. Filipino Mafia
I started getting close with the American and Canadian. We had much more in common than our Filipino coworkers and my Zimbabwean roommate. Just about every night we went to the CB and often we went to Bambu.
One night, the three of us got off work and went to the CB. It was a Bambu night, and we were trying to get our drink on so we wouldn't have to spend money at Bambu since it was more expensive than the CB. A couple other people were drinking with us, the two art girls and a random guy. Time was ticking so we took the elevator down to the gangway, stopping in the Canadian and American's room to use the bathroom before the long walk to Bambu.
We were drunk and acting ridiculous. I lived at the end of the hall and the Canadian and American lived in the middle. I went to their room, along with the guy, to use the bathroom. We were talking and laughing, having a great time and were only in the room long enough to use the bathroom. As we opened the door to leave, one of our Filipino coworkers opens her door. She tells us to be quiet. I immediately get myself together, but the guy yells, "F*** you!". The Filipino woman comes out in the hallway as the American, Canadian and I book it towards the gangway, yanking the guy with us as we mumble, "Sorry!". It's not sufficient for her though, and she follows us to the gangway. As we walk off the ship, I look back in time to see her talking to security and pointing at us.
We go merrily on our way, we're off the ship so the whole incident is out of our minds. We dance the night away at Bambu, and drag our drunk selves to bed around 3am.
The next day, word is spreading quickly about our antics of the night before. My Canadian friend and I are called into the YD's office along with the Filipino from last night and her Filipino roommate. Enter Filipino Mafia Mode. I had heard that the Filipinos stick together and everyone calls them the Filipino Mafia, but I had not yet felt the wrath of the mafia. Paisanos stick together, paisanos means you are from the same country. The two of them and our Filipino YD lay into us. I was still fairly new and totally taken aback, I just stood their and took it. My Canadian friend tried to argue our side, but they would barely let her talk. The whole thing was about how we were being loud at 1am when people are trying to sleep and we disrespected them when our friend, the guy we barely knew, yelled f*** you. As much as we try to dispute that we did not mean any disrespect and we were not even the ones who said anything, our boss took the side of her Filipino Mafia.
The next day, I was not happy to be working with the Filipino roommate that we had just had the dispute with and she knew it when I barely made eye contact with her. We were the only two in the playroom, and after minutes of silence, she breaks the ice by saying, "You have to be careful who you associate with." Implying that I should not be friends with the Canadian and American. I was totally offended, as my two North American paisanos had been the only people who actually wanted to be friends with me. It seemed the Filipinos and I would not be getting along very well.
One night, the three of us got off work and went to the CB. It was a Bambu night, and we were trying to get our drink on so we wouldn't have to spend money at Bambu since it was more expensive than the CB. A couple other people were drinking with us, the two art girls and a random guy. Time was ticking so we took the elevator down to the gangway, stopping in the Canadian and American's room to use the bathroom before the long walk to Bambu.
We were drunk and acting ridiculous. I lived at the end of the hall and the Canadian and American lived in the middle. I went to their room, along with the guy, to use the bathroom. We were talking and laughing, having a great time and were only in the room long enough to use the bathroom. As we opened the door to leave, one of our Filipino coworkers opens her door. She tells us to be quiet. I immediately get myself together, but the guy yells, "F*** you!". The Filipino woman comes out in the hallway as the American, Canadian and I book it towards the gangway, yanking the guy with us as we mumble, "Sorry!". It's not sufficient for her though, and she follows us to the gangway. As we walk off the ship, I look back in time to see her talking to security and pointing at us.
We go merrily on our way, we're off the ship so the whole incident is out of our minds. We dance the night away at Bambu, and drag our drunk selves to bed around 3am.
The next day, word is spreading quickly about our antics of the night before. My Canadian friend and I are called into the YD's office along with the Filipino from last night and her Filipino roommate. Enter Filipino Mafia Mode. I had heard that the Filipinos stick together and everyone calls them the Filipino Mafia, but I had not yet felt the wrath of the mafia. Paisanos stick together, paisanos means you are from the same country. The two of them and our Filipino YD lay into us. I was still fairly new and totally taken aback, I just stood their and took it. My Canadian friend tried to argue our side, but they would barely let her talk. The whole thing was about how we were being loud at 1am when people are trying to sleep and we disrespected them when our friend, the guy we barely knew, yelled f*** you. As much as we try to dispute that we did not mean any disrespect and we were not even the ones who said anything, our boss took the side of her Filipino Mafia.
The next day, I was not happy to be working with the Filipino roommate that we had just had the dispute with and she knew it when I barely made eye contact with her. We were the only two in the playroom, and after minutes of silence, she breaks the ice by saying, "You have to be careful who you associate with." Implying that I should not be friends with the Canadian and American. I was totally offended, as my two North American paisanos had been the only people who actually wanted to be friends with me. It seemed the Filipinos and I would not be getting along very well.
A New Roommate
After about two weeks, I was told I would be moving rooms. I was going to be living with the Zimbabwean girl from camp. I was excited to finally have a social life, at least I would have someone to talk to, since I would be living with her. She didn't like going out though, and didn't drink, which is rare on a ship! A few days in, I talked my roommate into going to the crew bar. I had been afraid I would get lost trying to find it myself and I didn't really know anyone yet to talk to at crew bar. But I did know the Canadian and American frequented the CB (that was our code word for crew bar when we talked about it in front of the kids).
After a few weeks of being on board I finally got in with the American and Canadian. They actually started inviting me to go with them to the CB! We were also the lucky ship that had an overnight in Nassau and the place to be was Bambu, the local club! When we were in port, Bambu would only let crew members in when they showed their IDs, so it was like the CB but at a legit club. I loved Bambu, I loved to dance. I could by cheap drinks at the CB, since crew got a discount on alcohol, then go to Bambu quite tipsy and dance like a fool!
My roommate never went with us because she didn't drink. She had a boyfriend at home, but so did just about every crew member. She was faithful, though many, if not most crew, were not. Sometimes she would have "guy friends" over, but she would ask them to leave as soon as I got to the room, even though I always told her it was fine.
I was very uncertain of myself, low confidence and anxiety kept me from having any flings with men. I did dance with guys at Bambu, even kissed one once, but never anything more. I was just taking in my surroundings, wading in a pool of mystery that was cruise ship life.
After a few weeks of being on board I finally got in with the American and Canadian. They actually started inviting me to go with them to the CB! We were also the lucky ship that had an overnight in Nassau and the place to be was Bambu, the local club! When we were in port, Bambu would only let crew members in when they showed their IDs, so it was like the CB but at a legit club. I loved Bambu, I loved to dance. I could by cheap drinks at the CB, since crew got a discount on alcohol, then go to Bambu quite tipsy and dance like a fool!
My roommate never went with us because she didn't drink. She had a boyfriend at home, but so did just about every crew member. She was faithful, though many, if not most crew, were not. Sometimes she would have "guy friends" over, but she would ask them to leave as soon as I got to the room, even though I always told her it was fine.
I was very uncertain of myself, low confidence and anxiety kept me from having any flings with men. I did dance with guys at Bambu, even kissed one once, but never anything more. I was just taking in my surroundings, wading in a pool of mystery that was cruise ship life.
Day 1
It was my first real job, and I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I wanted a job that gave me the opportunity to travel and what better job than to work on a cruise ship?! I was signing on to a ship whose home port was Port Canaveral, Florida, and it went to Nassau and Freeport, Bahamas. 3 and 4 day cruises, which were just fine for a first contractor.
I walked on to what I thought was the biggest ship I had ever seen, since I had never been on a cruise before. I was going to be youth staff (for camp carnival), which was just running activities with the kids on board, which is not difficult since I had been working with kids since I was a teenager. My youth director, or YD, was a Filipino woman who had been working with the company for years. She met me as soon as I arrived and took me to my room, handing me my arrival papers and telling me she would be back to get me soon.
My room was small; it had bunk beds, a desk with a small tv, and two closets. Luckily there was a bathroom in the room as well; later I would learn that crew rooms did not have bathrooms and I was lucky to be classified as staff. I waited anxiously for my YD to come back for me. Hours passed as I unpacked and wondered if I would get a roommate. Suddenly, an alarm sounded. Everyone in my hall came out of their cabins with their life jackets on and scurried up the stairs. I watched from my peephole, wondering if I was supposed to be doing this. We hadn't left port yet, so this couldn't have been a real emergency.
About an hour later my YD came to collect me for dinner. We ate with the rest of the camp team, and they were all Filipino. I tried my best to be outgoing and talk to them, but it's difficult to talk to people when they decide they will primarily speak in their own language. This was the first moment I wondered to myself what I had gotten myself into...
After dinner I started my shift at work, where I met more campies. There was a Canadian, two Zimbabweans, and another American! Everyone was nice and knew what they were doing, and I was just the new girl who needed to be trained. I made up my mind then that I needed to befriend the Canadian and American, but I didn't know how hard it was going to be.
My first night there was a crew party in the nightclub, or disco, on board. My YD picked me up, along with a few other Filipinos. I had no idea what to expect. The Filipinos stuck together, sticking out like sore thumbs. Most of them didn't drink, nonetheless dance. I felt weird being there with my new boss, so I didn't have too much to drink. I saw the Canadian and tried to sit with her, she was welcoming and introduced me to her friends from the art department. They were intimidating, and I decided to stand with my coworkers and schmooze up to the YD instead.
My first night there was a crew party in the nightclub, or disco, on board. My YD picked me up, along with a few other Filipinos. I had no idea what to expect. The Filipinos stuck together, sticking out like sore thumbs. Most of them didn't drink, nonetheless dance. I felt weird being there with my new boss, so I didn't have too much to drink. I saw the Canadian and tried to sit with her, she was welcoming and introduced me to her friends from the art department. They were intimidating, and I decided to stand with my coworkers and schmooze up to the YD instead.
I didn't get a roommate, and I was very depressed when I was alone in my room with no window. I was happy at work, there was lots of socializing but mostly with the kids. We got new kids every cruise though, which was every three or four days, so by the time I remembered their names, they were gone. I was having a hard time making friends. I had mostly been working with the Filipinos, and there were all in their mid 30s, and were not interested in a 22 year old. The American and Canadian seemed to have their own friend circle (plus they were roommates) and it was hard to get myself in with them. I was struggling not only with being lonely on the ship, but my grandfather who had basically been my father figure had passed away just days before I left for the ship. I spent almost every morning crying in the shower for about two weeks.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)