Update Update: Come Back In Two Years

Out of the comment box, here's what vonEbenhaum wrote (Note: the original comment was somehow lost, so this was written from my memory--which is as reliable as a BMW who's been shot by a tank).

Good point, although the people here share the peculiar perception about my homeland.

RedCross Guy: Would you care to donor your blood?
Me: Sure! I've been a regular donor back in my country. *sits down*
RedCross Guy: Great! Just roll up your sleeves. So where's your country anyway?
Me: Indonesia. *rolls up sleeve*
RedCross Guy: Uhh...
Me: Anything wrong?
RedCross Guy: Well, we can't take your blood.
Me: How come?
RedCross Guy: You see, Indonesia is a backwater country with a lot of diseases like dengue fever, malaria, and such.
Me: Uhm...
RedCross Guy: Tell you what... come back in 2 years. If you're still healthy by then, it means you're not infected. So it's safe to donor your blood.

Back to lesson #3 for me...
--vonEbenhaum

UPDATE: LESSONS LEARNT THE HARD WAY

1. Feeling safe and secure is a luxury we often take for granted.
2. Sometimes it's hard to fathom how some people think outside the "norm" that we believe in, such as "to kill people (that aren't necessarily related to your cause)--even for a good cause--is wrong."
3. We hate feeling helpless.
4. Anger and fear normally engulf us everytime there's a tragedy that slap lesson #1, #2 and #3 at our face.
5. Succumbing to anger is easy, but #3 stays no matter how hard our fingers pointed or our accussations screamed.
6. It takes smaller feats to seize control over #3: donating your blood at the nearest Red Cross post is one. Showing (in your own way) that there's another side to Indonesia that embrace love and intelligent behavior, is another; that no matter how much it hurts, you don't let anger overcomes your love.

QUICK TIP: HOW TO BE ROMANTIC IN 5 SECONDS

Click here and recite the full sentence(s) to your [would-be] partner. Hint: keep a straight face.

Today's compliment:

Cry for the stiffness of the earlobe. The turtles are fallen and the rain stands still. How long must I suffer with your undergarments?

With codes like these, who needs Shakespeare?