Sylvia's Journal

I observed the first day of the management training that is provided as part of the WHO wheelchair service training package from the sidelines. My Filipina colleagues ran the day in a mixture of Tagalog and English. Not everyone of the participants actually manages a rehab center, some are in charge of developing national policies. This makes it challenging to cater to everyone’s needs. But the trainers are doing a great job.

Not having slept well the last few days I resolved to go to bed early, and treat myself to a facial to get sufficiently relaxed beforehand. I was suckered into getting the anti-aging treatment, which is double the price of a regular treatment.  I am sure my 26 year old colleague was not given that suggestion. Have I now entered that category of old and credulous people who pay extra for the silly promise of looking younger? My brain told me this was poppycock but I bought the package anyways. When it was time to pay, as if to convince me I had chosen well, the beautician pushed a mirror in front of me. Frankly, I thought I looked old and tired.

On the way back to the hotel I stopped at the supermarket to stock up on dried mango for the return trip. There was one line dedicated to retired people. I decided I looked sufficiently old (and tired, though not re-tired) to be allowed in that line which was also populated by a string of young girls. When the cashier saw me she told the girls to step aside and let me through. Old indeed!