Radios

June 08th 2005

We’re gearing up for the big one here folks. A few days ago, we learned how to use simple and duplex VHF (these are two-way radios, not STDs).

Here’s the lingo:

“Krash One Krash One for Krash Two. Over” Krrish
Translation: the person with code name Krash One is calling Krash Two. She finishes with “over” to indicate that she has finished talking and can now receive the other person. The Krrish sounds happens when the person talking has released the talking button. She is now ready to listen to the other person.

“Krash One here. Do you you copy? Over” Krrish
Translation: Krash Two answers and asks if Krash One can hear well. 1 of 5 is bad reception while 5/5 is perfectly clear.

“I copy 4 of 5. What your location, over?” Krrish

“I’m in Krash Orange Central. Apartment S. That’s Simon. Over” Krrish
Translation: Krash One is now at Krash Orange’s house. The word Central refers someone’s main residence. Office Central would be the location of the office. When one has to spell something out, the static is so loud that you tend to loose little words or sound nuances here or there. If you have to spell something, it’s easier to use small words. How many times have I spelled things over the phone saying “s”, the other person says “f?”, no you dufus it’s “s, s”, you know like stupid.

"Let's make like a tree and leave. Over" Krrish
Krash Two is suggesting all three of them get out of the sticky situation and get the hell out. Krash Two uses outdated 80s expressions as a code to disguise what she is really saying. That, or she's a dork whose not down with the lingo.

Note: I’ve modified all the name and code words, these are simply used for illustrative purposes.

**************

After this rather intense meeting, I realised that if I were stuck inside my apartment without running water and electricity, I could live on my stock of water and canned beans. But how would I find out about what’s going on outside?

I decided to enlist the help of the drivers and purchase a battery operated radio. My instructions were the following: “Please get me the smallest radio you can find, battery-operated, but no need to buy the batteries since I had tons at home”.

The driver comes back to the office, the proud courrier of my radio. It’s a Panasoanic. That’s Panasoanic. Say it with me, “PanasooAaanic”. It’s a cheap knock-off of the real thing. Real cheap.

First of all, the thing is huge. It takes humongous batteries (the kind I don’t happen to have at home). We test it to make sure it works (always a good thing with Panasoanic radios). It has two volume levels: really loud or barely audible. The antenna is there just for decoration because it makes absolutely no difference when it’s pulled up. I receive two channels: one with news from Senegal, the other plays Congolese music 24/7.

Sigh. I guess it’ll do.