Thursday, January 19, 2006
New Year, new everything
Well, I'm glad to say that Christmas in Canada was everything I thought it would be - eating vast amounts of food with a (almost embarrassingly) generous Italian family, friends, parties, and, at the very last minute, snow. Yes, it was a white Christmas!!
The only thing that tainted the whole thing was the commercialism. I know, that's what everyone says, but they haven't been to North America. I mean, the sheer amount of advertising and sales and ten more shopping days and buybuybuybuybuybuybuybuy! Not to mention the forest of fliers you have to throw away every time you get a newspaper. It's enough to make you turn Amish. Anyway, it was all great fun and when January came I started getting into the swing of my new job.
Helter-shelter
Well, it's not strictly new. I've been working at the shelter since July now, and getting a pay packet (aka a mound of pennies) since September. But now I'm doing five mornings a week! On reception! Yessir, all the craziness, hilarity, stress, warm fuzzy feelings, confusion and disorganisation of a homeless shelter - and I'm at the forefront.
It's definitely not boring. My morning is joyous or nightmarish purely on the basis of the people who come in. They can be demanding and rude - one guy sat in reception for my entire shift waiting for his welfare cheque. I told him the mail would arrive at 11.30, but he still sat there going: "When's the mail coming? Don't you guys know your job? Where’s the mail? If my cheque doesn’t come today I’m punching a hole in the wall.” He did this for four days straight. When the cheque finally arrived, I almost kissed it (needless to say, we haven’t seen him since).
But there are other people who I can chat and laugh with, who make the morning seem an hour long. Like the guy who gave up crack (I’ve mentioned him before) who now has a job but still comes in to say hi and show me some of the kung fu moves he’s learned. Or quoting Shakespeare with the girl who, like me, played Juliet in school. Or bursting into a rendition of ‘Money for Nothing’ with a guy after Dire Straits came up in the conversation. Or showing off how many languages we can swear in. It is so not your average reception job.
Almost in demand
And then in the afternoons I’m doing my freelance journalism, which now consists of two papers (Hamilton Spectator and Grimsby News) and a magazine (the Beacon – a better quality Christian mag).
I’ve been writing or interviewing almost every day for the last two weeks. The Spectator has commissioned me to cover the citizenship court (where people become Canadian citizens – I have to interview people about where they came from and how they settled in) every two weeks indefinitely. And yesterday they called me to ask if I could work for them next Monday to help cover the national elections!
Plus I’ve come across quite a few contacts through my constant interviewing, so I have to send my CV off and call people and try and land a job. It really feels like things are starting to get somewhere.
Bumping into the neighbours
We’ve even started getting to know our neighbours (finally!). I was about to pull off down the road last Sunday, when my neighbour across the street reversed out of her driveway straight into me. The only thing vaguely hurt was my nerves (I kind of went a bit hysterical…me? Overreact? Surely not), but we still had to sort out the insurance so Joe and I went to her house. Her husband peered at us through his hangover and reacted to the news like a bear that’s been shot with a pellet gun, but he soon warmed up and we ended up laughing about it over a cooked breakfast. Hooray!
And, as a pretty cool epilogue, the insurance company agreed it wasn’t my fault and provided me with a very funky Toyota Yaris while my car’s being fixed! I’ve never driven a practically new car before, and I have to say I’m hooked. It feels like I’m flying two feet above the tarmac, and I now I look for an excuse to drive anywhere. Driving never held any attraction for me until I came to Canada, but now I can go more than five minutes without coming to a red light, and with virtually no traffic jams or roundabouts, I love it! Just as well really – Grimsby’s out in the sticks, so almost everything is about half an hour away : )
The only thing that tainted the whole thing was the commercialism. I know, that's what everyone says, but they haven't been to North America. I mean, the sheer amount of advertising and sales and ten more shopping days and buybuybuybuybuybuybuybuy! Not to mention the forest of fliers you have to throw away every time you get a newspaper. It's enough to make you turn Amish. Anyway, it was all great fun and when January came I started getting into the swing of my new job.
Helter-shelter
Well, it's not strictly new. I've been working at the shelter since July now, and getting a pay packet (aka a mound of pennies) since September. But now I'm doing five mornings a week! On reception! Yessir, all the craziness, hilarity, stress, warm fuzzy feelings, confusion and disorganisation of a homeless shelter - and I'm at the forefront.
It's definitely not boring. My morning is joyous or nightmarish purely on the basis of the people who come in. They can be demanding and rude - one guy sat in reception for my entire shift waiting for his welfare cheque. I told him the mail would arrive at 11.30, but he still sat there going: "When's the mail coming? Don't you guys know your job? Where’s the mail? If my cheque doesn’t come today I’m punching a hole in the wall.” He did this for four days straight. When the cheque finally arrived, I almost kissed it (needless to say, we haven’t seen him since).
But there are other people who I can chat and laugh with, who make the morning seem an hour long. Like the guy who gave up crack (I’ve mentioned him before) who now has a job but still comes in to say hi and show me some of the kung fu moves he’s learned. Or quoting Shakespeare with the girl who, like me, played Juliet in school. Or bursting into a rendition of ‘Money for Nothing’ with a guy after Dire Straits came up in the conversation. Or showing off how many languages we can swear in. It is so not your average reception job.
Almost in demand
And then in the afternoons I’m doing my freelance journalism, which now consists of two papers (Hamilton Spectator and Grimsby News) and a magazine (the Beacon – a better quality Christian mag).
I’ve been writing or interviewing almost every day for the last two weeks. The Spectator has commissioned me to cover the citizenship court (where people become Canadian citizens – I have to interview people about where they came from and how they settled in) every two weeks indefinitely. And yesterday they called me to ask if I could work for them next Monday to help cover the national elections!
Plus I’ve come across quite a few contacts through my constant interviewing, so I have to send my CV off and call people and try and land a job. It really feels like things are starting to get somewhere.
Bumping into the neighbours
We’ve even started getting to know our neighbours (finally!). I was about to pull off down the road last Sunday, when my neighbour across the street reversed out of her driveway straight into me. The only thing vaguely hurt was my nerves (I kind of went a bit hysterical…me? Overreact? Surely not), but we still had to sort out the insurance so Joe and I went to her house. Her husband peered at us through his hangover and reacted to the news like a bear that’s been shot with a pellet gun, but he soon warmed up and we ended up laughing about it over a cooked breakfast. Hooray!
And, as a pretty cool epilogue, the insurance company agreed it wasn’t my fault and provided me with a very funky Toyota Yaris while my car’s being fixed! I’ve never driven a practically new car before, and I have to say I’m hooked. It feels like I’m flying two feet above the tarmac, and I now I look for an excuse to drive anywhere. Driving never held any attraction for me until I came to Canada, but now I can go more than five minutes without coming to a red light, and with virtually no traffic jams or roundabouts, I love it! Just as well really – Grimsby’s out in the sticks, so almost everything is about half an hour away : )
