On Looking For A Job and Selling Banana Que

With my separation pay from my previous job being almost depleted, I had no choice but to seriously look for a job these past few weeks.

This time with more desperation than ever.

Yup, desperate enough to consider selling banana-que...or eating my words.

A college professor once admonished us to take up masteral studies in Political Science because, otherwise, all we were good for, as BA undergraduates of the said course is "selling banana-que". The good professor, I believe, does not really denigrate those who sell banana-que---at least not consciously. But those who do sell them, she would say, are undergrad students, too. "Go ahead, ask them." We all laughed, of course, thinking how much a kidder the professor can be.

Well, after graduation, I sort of realize how true her words can be. Let me put it this way:

What's one sure way to turn up negative results in a job search engine? PUT IN THE WORDS "POLITICAL SCIENCE" THEN PRESS "ENTER".


If my said professor had low regard for banana-que vendors in UP, then she had a LOWER regard for call center agents. I didn't teach you political analysis just so you could all be "telephone operators", she would say.

"That wouldn't happen to me," I would mutter. After all, haven't I chosen factory work and labor service above and beyond the lure of easy money in a call center? Yes, I did. I even told a friend, half-jokingly that I might as well sell banana-que before I consider working for a call center.

I've always imagined myself working for an Non-Government Organization after graduation. I wanted to continue serving other people. I wanted to nurture my social advocacies while providing for my necessities. And so I submitted a few applications to certain NGOs just after graduation.

And then I waited. And waited. And waited. A friend from the labor sector told me to wait some more because there's definitely going to be a job opening in the labor advocacy center soon. So I waited some more.

Unfortunately, my funds are fast running out. I didn't get much separation pay to begin with, in the first place. And I had to provide for my needs in the meantime.

And so, suddenly, the prospect of getting a call center job didn't seem all that bad. After all, some of my friends are working as call center agents and they're doing mighty fine, aren't they? And didn't they say, getting a call center job would be a cinch?

In short, I ended up eating my banana-que laden words: I applied for a call center job.

I'm putting this in my blog to remind myself to always be humble. To not let the prejudices of some other people affect my future decisions. And to not let myself forget that whatever I achieve in life... I'll always be factory worker.

Which is about as decent a job can get---as decent as the banana-que seller. Which, in the end, is way better than a politician or congressman, right? (Oops, here I go again.)