Due to my gypsy nature, I tend to take risk, risk that involved accepting random jobs in random places. Therefore, to ease the mind(s) of my loved ones at home, during my randomness I would send email updates to let them know about life in, wherever I was. This is an email from my first week hosting beach activities in Los Cabo, Mexico.
Well today is my one week anniversary and first day off. The term 'work like a Mexican' has taken on new meaning, as has staring. It's not so much a question of feeling safe, but rather a question of how comfortable you are with people staring at you ..all the time.
My senses have begun to settle as am I in my new Baja lifestyle, that is of course, after overcoming a week filled with many challenges.
Many of you questioned my job and if there would be any training involved or what the process would be like when I arrived. Well, to answer that question, there is no training and process is pretty simple. Fend for yourself. Every man for thyself or get pushed to the back of the bus and miss your stop...literally. I've yet to master this one.
However, I did somehow manage to land on the good side of Hector, Hector the human resources manager, who is rumored to speak and comprende' English but refuses to admit that to the new gringos working at the resort. As it is also rumored that he has a strong dislike for Americans. Trying to deal with this man for two days and fill out important documents so I can legally be and work in the country has be a challenge of itself. The paperwork is detailed oriented, as in asking how many moles or tattoos one has as well as the shape of your forehead, chin and nose...which may I add is hard to determine when you have no mirror in your house nor a firm understanding of the correct Spanish terms for body parts and textures.
Then is was off to get photos for my ID card where I was yelled at for trying to smile..apparently I missed the Mexican memo that stated it was unacceptable to look somewhat pleasant when posing for your immigration card. (Yes, I now am a proud owner of an immigration card. Gracias Hector.)
The along Tuesday came, where my roommate and I awoke to no running water. Lucky for me I was in charge of the beach walk that day (where I was told to lead out guest on a 20 minute trek down the beach to a place that is safe enough to swim in the Sea of Cortez, no one seemed worried that I had no clue where I was leading said group, except one guest after I responded to the question of 'how long have you worked at Dream' with ':) One day'. In the end, it all worked out, the guest returned safely to the resort and I got to jump in the ocean as a replacement to my shower.
....Yet awaking on Wednesday morning with the same issue of no running water - not so bueno. Have you tried washing your face with bottled water? It's interesting, I suggest it.
That evening on the return home, before heading out to lead a pub crawl (I really can't get away from those things!) I, with the help of Lynn's tennis racket battled a moth the size of a bat that took to nesting in our room. The Mexican girls got a kick out of the battle and I am now thinking of taking up tennis.
Needless to say some of these things, amongst other minor issues, had me questioning my decision. But come Thursday where my challenge was to lead stretching/yoga on the beach while the crashing waves refreshed us with their mist; and I having to assist an Indian girl who came on our snorkeling trip and had never swam before in her life. I reconsidered. Granted I had some sand in unpleasant places and the girl almost drowned me a couple of times, seeing the excitement in her face when Miguel and I placed a cracked sea urchin in her hand causing dozens of illuminating fish to tornado around us was simply priceless.
Now if I can only figure out how to stop my face from becoming one gigantic freckle, a polite way to refuse drinks from the over appreciative guest and the reason why, I, the 'pink faced Dutch girl' (I'm not even Dutch, but you tell Jesus that) was placed in the Friday night Mexican Fiesta Show, then I think I'll be alright.
Well I have taken enough of your time and the guy at this cafe is staring...again...or maybe her never stopped...either way, freaky. I feel like carrot in a Bug's Bunny cartoon.
Jeanine
aka
Ana
No comments:
Post a Comment