Who am I? Better ask my Blueberry. Or should that be my Raspberry?

by Yeoh Siew Hoon/Transit Cafe

I had a scary thought this morning at breakfast – my mobile phone and Blackberry have become my best friends.

The ephiphany came during breakfast at the Horizon Club lounge of the Shangri-La Hotel, Dubai.

I am the only woman guest in a room full of men in suits and dish-dashes. Everyone’s holding seemingly high-powered meetings – probably concluding the next deal to build the tallest, biggest complex in the UAE, complete with The World’s Biggest Space Travel Port and The World’s Largest Replica of Pluto (the former planet, not the cartoon character).

While they were having breakfast with each other, I was having eggs and sausages with my two best mates who were lying on the table, next to my latte.

Suddenly, my mobile phone vibrates. My Blackberry beeps. The table rattles. I jump. The men turn to look at me. I curl into a little, wiggly ball of embarrassment.

Yes, these two devices have become the sole means by which I remain connected to my world. They are my shield, my armour in the anonymous world of life on the road.

I am living on a drip feed of SMS, emails and IM. I no longer talk to people, I just get text. I text strangers like they are my old friends. “Can we change meeting to 11am? Stuck in traffic.”

A friend of mine frowns on this practice of SMS-ing strangers. He thinks it’s impolite and that there should be SMS etiquette, as there should be email code of conduct.

I no longer see people, I write to them. I no longer call people, I IM them. And because I type faster than any of my friends, I am always ahead of the conversation curve in an IM.

My friends no longer ask me, “How are you?” when they call. They ask, “Where are you?”

I have learnt various uses for my mobile phone to entertain me on the road. I take photos of food I eat so I can send them to friends. I take photos of my hotel room and strewn baggage to show my mum so she knows I am being a good girl.

I have a screensaver of my dog to remind me of He Who Should Be My Real Best Friend. I use it (the phone) as a torchlight for when I wake up in the middle of the night, wondering which hotel room I am in and where is the bathroom?

I call my Blackberry my Blueberry because I love blueberries. And I sing “I found my thrill on Blueberry hill” to sleep.

I know I am not alone. On the flight, I sat next to a woman who, after takeoff, pulled out her mobile phone, played a video and laughed out loud. We are not only talking to ourselves these days – seen those folks with the Bluetooth gear? Hilarious; we are laughing by ourselves.

My third best friend is my iPOD and this morning, I had a brief moment of sheer unadulterated panic when I thought I had left it behind on the flight. I had been listening to it, fell asleep and couldn’t quite remember where I had left it, and I had just walked off the plane without first checking.

I quickly SMS-ed a friend who worked at the airline to ask if I could report a lost iPOD, giving her my seat number and flight. Later, I found out in the side pocket of my bag and SMS-ed her again to tell her to call the APB (All Points Bulletin) off.

I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost my iPOD.
Coincidentally, a friend of mine lost his mobile phone the same day. I know that because when I SMS-ed him to ask him where he was, he asked me who I was. “Lost phone. Lost all contacts. Who are you?” was his reply.

Ah, where would we be without our gadgets to tell us what time and day it is, where we are, who we are and who our best friends are …