The office is on the 2nd floor..
To go to the factory, I have to go down to the 1st floor..
There is a staircase
When I go down the stairs, an employee coming up
goes back down and stands at a distance, waiting until I finish coming down..
The staircase is a bit narrow..
Earlier, I went around the site once
and came up to the 2nd floor office
and already one of the employees was opening the door to enter the office..
But when he heard me coming up
he held the door open with his hand and stepped aside to let me pass..
He's older than me..
I greeted him saying "Thank you..(Terima kasih)" and entered my room..
As I thought about it carefully..
I think, "A country boy from Gyeongsang-do is really being treated well here in Indonesia."..
As I was thinking such thoughts
suddenly my mind started to wander..
I don't know how to use a copier..
I've never sent a fax..
I don't know how to transfer calls to another line..
I've never opened a car hood..
I graduated from engineering school, but I don't know how to fix things when something breaks at home..
I've never washed a car..
I thought I could do everything
but when I think about it, it seems I don't know how to do much..
For over 20 years, just..
I've only given orders, it seems..
I've mentioned it a few times before
My basic mindset when dealing with Indonesian people is "they're pitiful" and "they're kind"..
Today, thinking about it, I think I need to add one more..
Pitiful..
Kind..
And..
they make me deluded about myself..
Indonesian people
make me, who is nothing special, feel like I'm a great person..
it seems..
They say delusion is a shortcut to senility..