New adventures in Nophoneland
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May 27, 2001 | 12:00am
Hello Billy, I am writing this to you because I cannot call you over the phone; after almost two years of phone bliss, I suddenly found myself without this basic utility when we finally moved into our more or less "prestigious" digs at the corner of Sacrepante St. and Boni Ave., Mandaluyong City.
But before we got our first phone in our old place in Singalong in 1999, we were 12 years without it. Of course we applied with PLDT in the early ’90s, but we were always told that "there are no lines available."
Before we could shed tears of blood for some lines to be installed, we resorted to the use of a dinosaur cellphone which went on sale somewhere in Binondo, a true museum piece it now is, the type where you have to dial around 10 digits of a phone card before you would be informed just how many minutes of credit you had left.
Then suddenly, as if it were a gift from heaven, Billy, aggressive young personnel from Eastern Telecoms alighted in our Vito Cruz neighborhood offering phone installation on the very day we would pay our application fees in makeshift processing centers they had set up on the sidewalk.
You can imagine the excitement of residents that August day, when we lined up for blocks for the chance to have talking rights on this worthy invention, which if I’m not mistaken was introduced in these islands by the gringos at the turn of the last century. We must have felt like our forefathers.
Having our first phone imparted to us a feeling of accomplishment if not self-esteem, and we promptly made up for lost time with the occasional telebabad, but steered clear of any phone sex or crank calls.
Funny how we think of it now, those 12 years without the device in Singalong when we had to make calls in greasy public phones, in eateries and sari-sari stores, and how we would curse to high heavens the one ahead us indulging in telebabad.
It was no premonition after all when, on leaving the termite-infested and flood-prone apartment on Conchu St., I almost kissed the phone (still working!) left on a small stool beside the rundown cannibalized aparador.
Because Billy, we have for the past month been back in Nophoneland. Let me tell you the lurid details as Gracia might be able to do something about it, if perhaps she has some telepathic powers of persuasion.
The place where we stay has exclusive PLDT phone lines, meaning no other company can get in the area –the reason we couldn’t request for transfer of our Eastern phone, much less ask for a Globe line.
At any rate, after leaving an advanced application for a line last December with an overseer of the residential units, I was told, when finally we moved in last week of April, that I had to file an exact same one and make "a personal appearance" complete with "valid, government-issued ID."
So I filed this new application the very day after we moved in, after which somebody named Lira said to call customer service 171 in a week’s time "to inquire on the status" of my application.
At the end of the week, 171 informed me that I could pay the P2,000 installation and miscellaneous fees and the phone would be installed "in two to three days."
The very next day that’s exactly what I did, getting my numbered stub to wait patiently in line like a dutiful phone citizen, while the NBA playoffs on an elevated TV screen eased our Saturday morning boredom. The rather sleepy-eyed lady who attended to me even wrote out our new phone number.
Then that very morning, while we were putting together an "assembly desk," came a lineman with a shiny silver phone which looked ready for installing.
He connected the phone to a wall outlet, and said to expect a dial tone "in two or three days."
In around 20 minutes, though, he was back, looking as if he had seen the ghost of Christmas past: no lines were immediately available, "at mukhang matatagalan pa raw."
He did not even give us the chance to appreciate the decorative value of the shiny silver apparatus, complete with ready number, because he quickly repacked it into its nifty box. He said for us to "call 171 for further developments."
Of course, Billy, I received the bad news just recently, because 171 informed me that "mukhang matatagalan pa raw" as the "request for expansion" for more cable lines has just come in. The customer attendant, who at first talked in that usual sing-song manner that almost made you wish you had no phone, this time sounded as if she’d just seen the ghost of Christmas future: she advised me that it might be best to ask for a refund momentarily.
The next day however, an amiable customer rep named Donna called some higher ups on the phone, and informed me that "itatawid na lang ang linya" and "may kasunduan na sina Mr. Villaruz at Mr. Sotto," whoever they are. She assured me that the installation would take place "over the weekend."
It has turned out to be one of the longest weekends, Billy, this new adventure in Nophoneland. The latest word from 171 is to again ask for a refund as "wala pang estimate kung kailan maikakabit ang linya." A certain Mr. Casanova also said it was not possible "na itawid ang linya" and there was this issue of "right of way" at City Hall, try again in two weeks. Why does it feel like this big utility is giving us the old in-out?
And we’re still looking for sari-sari stores and greasy eateries again –hopefully not for the next 12 years, keep our dialing fingers crossed – just to place a call across town to somewhere more fortunate and on the very real threshold of the 21st century.
But before we got our first phone in our old place in Singalong in 1999, we were 12 years without it. Of course we applied with PLDT in the early ’90s, but we were always told that "there are no lines available."
Before we could shed tears of blood for some lines to be installed, we resorted to the use of a dinosaur cellphone which went on sale somewhere in Binondo, a true museum piece it now is, the type where you have to dial around 10 digits of a phone card before you would be informed just how many minutes of credit you had left.
Then suddenly, as if it were a gift from heaven, Billy, aggressive young personnel from Eastern Telecoms alighted in our Vito Cruz neighborhood offering phone installation on the very day we would pay our application fees in makeshift processing centers they had set up on the sidewalk.
You can imagine the excitement of residents that August day, when we lined up for blocks for the chance to have talking rights on this worthy invention, which if I’m not mistaken was introduced in these islands by the gringos at the turn of the last century. We must have felt like our forefathers.
Having our first phone imparted to us a feeling of accomplishment if not self-esteem, and we promptly made up for lost time with the occasional telebabad, but steered clear of any phone sex or crank calls.
Funny how we think of it now, those 12 years without the device in Singalong when we had to make calls in greasy public phones, in eateries and sari-sari stores, and how we would curse to high heavens the one ahead us indulging in telebabad.
It was no premonition after all when, on leaving the termite-infested and flood-prone apartment on Conchu St., I almost kissed the phone (still working!) left on a small stool beside the rundown cannibalized aparador.
Because Billy, we have for the past month been back in Nophoneland. Let me tell you the lurid details as Gracia might be able to do something about it, if perhaps she has some telepathic powers of persuasion.
The place where we stay has exclusive PLDT phone lines, meaning no other company can get in the area –the reason we couldn’t request for transfer of our Eastern phone, much less ask for a Globe line.
At any rate, after leaving an advanced application for a line last December with an overseer of the residential units, I was told, when finally we moved in last week of April, that I had to file an exact same one and make "a personal appearance" complete with "valid, government-issued ID."
So I filed this new application the very day after we moved in, after which somebody named Lira said to call customer service 171 in a week’s time "to inquire on the status" of my application.
At the end of the week, 171 informed me that I could pay the P2,000 installation and miscellaneous fees and the phone would be installed "in two to three days."
The very next day that’s exactly what I did, getting my numbered stub to wait patiently in line like a dutiful phone citizen, while the NBA playoffs on an elevated TV screen eased our Saturday morning boredom. The rather sleepy-eyed lady who attended to me even wrote out our new phone number.
Then that very morning, while we were putting together an "assembly desk," came a lineman with a shiny silver phone which looked ready for installing.
He connected the phone to a wall outlet, and said to expect a dial tone "in two or three days."
In around 20 minutes, though, he was back, looking as if he had seen the ghost of Christmas past: no lines were immediately available, "at mukhang matatagalan pa raw."
He did not even give us the chance to appreciate the decorative value of the shiny silver apparatus, complete with ready number, because he quickly repacked it into its nifty box. He said for us to "call 171 for further developments."
Of course, Billy, I received the bad news just recently, because 171 informed me that "mukhang matatagalan pa raw" as the "request for expansion" for more cable lines has just come in. The customer attendant, who at first talked in that usual sing-song manner that almost made you wish you had no phone, this time sounded as if she’d just seen the ghost of Christmas future: she advised me that it might be best to ask for a refund momentarily.
The next day however, an amiable customer rep named Donna called some higher ups on the phone, and informed me that "itatawid na lang ang linya" and "may kasunduan na sina Mr. Villaruz at Mr. Sotto," whoever they are. She assured me that the installation would take place "over the weekend."
It has turned out to be one of the longest weekends, Billy, this new adventure in Nophoneland. The latest word from 171 is to again ask for a refund as "wala pang estimate kung kailan maikakabit ang linya." A certain Mr. Casanova also said it was not possible "na itawid ang linya" and there was this issue of "right of way" at City Hall, try again in two weeks. Why does it feel like this big utility is giving us the old in-out?
And we’re still looking for sari-sari stores and greasy eateries again –hopefully not for the next 12 years, keep our dialing fingers crossed – just to place a call across town to somewhere more fortunate and on the very real threshold of the 21st century.
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