Helped with the rice business today. My sensitivity to trivial things such as dust meant I couldn't engage in any laborious work, so I was appointed 'cashier'. In my case, that meant sitting in the morning sun playing with the children until someone walked through the gate to buy some bigas (rice).
It may sound like fun and games but trying to give change to the customers unearthed my inability to count. If it wasn't for my uncle I probably would have given away half of the earnings. Not to mention my Taglish (Tagalog and English). At times I got so frustrated that I resigned to speaking English, which seemed to confuse me more than it confused the customers.
'Ilan po?' (How much would you like?)
'Lima lang' (Just five)
'Pa pir...p..pirma.....Can you just sign here, please?'