Okay so that more blogging I’m going to do. Its going to start now. I’m a bit different than other bloggers as I don’t blog every day or every second day, and my blogs are always pretty long. I guess I feel that I am not upholding my job as a real writer-y type blogger if I do not write about something substantial, something really like, significant. Then I can write in a really intense and dramatic fashion, as I love to do. However, life changing, huge things don’t happen to me everyday. They did when I was 16, but now that I am 27, life altering BIG stuff happens less. So I really want to start writing about more everyday type stuff, as well as the big stuff.
But then that leads me to the problem of what do I write about, and how do I make my normal everyday stuff sound interesting on a blog?
I don’t know that, yet. But I DO know that my normal everyday stuff isn’t other peoples normal everyday stuff, as I live in Mexico and okay that is the whole point of this blog, is to share the every day stuff of living in Mexico with you, and I’m going to start that today!
Actually today is a pretty special day because I got off work at 2pm and slept all afternoon. It is now almost 7pm and I have slept all afternoon, and it was amazing.
Normally I work 12 or 14 hours on a Saturday, but today Es did the wedding, and I went home early and slept.
This actually isn’t something I would normally do, but since I have less than 2 weeks left at work, I have been feeling more and more like taking care of myself and less and less like taking care of them.
Which is actually what my life has been like for the past 3 months working at the Resort. Get up early, too early to eat breakfast and head to work. Head to work in too much of a rush to really do anything with my hair. My hair that has to go up in a ponytail and has an awkward looking stub in the back as my hair is too short to really put up without looking kind of stubby.
Then running to the bus stop trying not to spill coffee all over me. Yes, I made time for coffee. I always made time for coffee. Then having to wave down the resort bus like a mad woman as it is not an actual bus stop, but the bus driver does not speak English, so all he can do is grunt and shake his head, instead of actually telling me where I SHOULD get the bus. But usually at this point I am too exhausted from running and just looking forward to sitting for a while. It is now only 8:20am.
Then sitting on the bus trying to play Iron & Wine loud enough on my iPod to drown out the mariachi style music that I have never, and will never enjoy. ESPECIALLY not this early in the morning. And anyone who knows me, knows how much I love mornings, even without Mariachi.
Then getting off the bus with all the other resort employees and having to line up to have my hands sanitized and my bag searched, which always feels very jail-like to me. One morning I was feeling brave and decided I am a grown woman and do not need to have my bag searched and do not need to have my hands sanitized. I live in Mexico, I have PLENTY of hand sanitizer, obviously I do not need your security people to do it for me like a dirty little kid. So, confidently I moseyed on by the check-in line, and by the obvious banter in the line up about my moseying by the check-in line.
I didn’t get very far before the clearly disgruntled security man yelled LUISA!! and hailed me down. I walked back dragging my feet, head down, confidence crushed and defeated.
I did manage to skip the bag check that morning with enough intense and outraged looking hand gestures, but I still could not avoid the hand sanitizer. I put my hands out and rolled my eyes like a teenager with major attitude.
I would normally deal with the situation more grown up like, by explaining that I do not feel it is necessary, but I simply do not know enough Spanish to explain to them how I feel about the whole thing. Not that it would really make a difference in protocol and my involvement in it. So I did it with pure attitude. I walked away with clean hands, almost impressed with my still got the attitude self.
Then as I had no time for breakfast I line up at the cafeteria with the other workers for breakfast. I hate the cafeteria. It smells like warm milk and the floor is always dirty. People eat huge amounts of food, which kind of makes me sick to even look at.
I sit amongst the energetic and hungry crowd, all completely mowing down in chicaquillas, beans and eggs, or I think eggs, while I try not to smell the milk and focus on my small bowl of granola, yogurt and melon.
Heading back to the other side of the resort where my office is, I walk in a single file in the back, shady area of the resort with a view of the parking lot. I so badly want to walk on the beach side, which is hot, has nice music and a breathtaking view that would turn my morning RIGHT around, but I am not allowed.
I must walk by the parking lot, by the garbage, and by the working men making palapa huts out of dead palm trees, with the rest of the staff.
I sit in my office and feel relief as I snuggle my homemade coffee and relax for a minute. That is before I turn on my computer to see my calendar full of rehearsals, weddings and appointments, while my server downloads more and more long emails from out of control brides that never ever feel like I am paying enough attention to them.
I want to tell them all that there are over 200 of them and that they are just going to have to wait patiently for me to answer their email, but of course I cannot do that. And of course I do not even have time to answer 1 email before a disgruntled staff member calls saying something in Spanish asking where Es is.
If you do not speak English, and you know I do not speak Spanish, why call? I get seriously over 20 phone calls a day from people trying to speak spanish to me. When I tell them, again, that I do not speak Spanish and cannot understand them (especially with how fast they are speaking) then they just hang up! I am not kidding you, they always just hang up. It seems awfully rude for a place that is so completely strict about being polite.
In the resort, there is a rule when someone says thank you, you must say es un placer. Spanish for its a pleasure. One time a staff member got in the elevator. I pushed the button for him and he said gracias. So I said denada. Which is, you’re welcome. He turned towards me and said ES UN PLACER! and stormed off. He was so offended by my not being polite according to policy, that he felt the need to correct me in the rudest way! Seriously? But I am used too it. I am always being corrected for something. When I forget my name tag, I hear it from everyone. If I have a hair out of place, or if I am taking a sip of water in front of a guest. If I am walking on the sunny path with the guests, instead of the parking lot path with the staff. I actually got pulled into the bosses office the other day as some staff were complaining that I ‘do not smile’ and someone was offended by this. There are over 1000 staff here, how can I be smiling at every single one of them during the day. It was ridiculous, so for the rest of the day I walked around with a fake grin for the fear of not smiling at someone that may be offended by the fact that I did not smile at them.
I have been told by management that staff think I look “scruffy”. This was over a month ago, someone said my hair looked like a mess all the time. I had long beautiful brown hair. That night, not wanting to look like a bum anymore, I headed to the Salon to have it all cut off. I honestly have not felt pretty since. I hate the haircut. It is short and boring and I hate it. I did it to please them, the people who think I look scruffy. 2 weeks ago someone came up to me and shook their head and said “What is with your hair today?”. It was infuriating that I gave my beautiful hair and it did not change their opinion of me. I want my long hair back. I am so angry with myself for chopping off all my ahri to please people that, as it turns out, are just not happy with the way I look for some reason.
And looking good is very important to these people. The women are very vain. Constantly in front of the mirror, always applying more make-up. They all have these long perfect nails. My nails are not that perfectly long or perfect. So, on top of the 12 to 14 hour days of all this madness, I try to give myself a mini manicure every night, and my nails still do not look perfect and long like theirs. I cannot make them happy.
I am also never doing my million different kinds of paperwork right. It is all in Spanish, and my spanish is always wrong. I have to order every meal for every guests for every wedding through our chef, in Spanish.
And these meals are not like “chicken with potatoes’ they are like ‘chicken au gratin with a seared steak sauteed in reduction of something with a bone marrow something fancy something else sauce. Seriously I cannot write this meal in english, and you cant google translate that shit. So SOMETIMES my service orders in spanish are not correct. And I hear about it all the time. Its never good enough.
One time I tried to use the translator and it translated my white chocolate mousse, into ‘raton’, which is mouse in spanish. I ordered mouse for dessert. Translators are useless. I also have to order all my flowers in spanish as the florist doesn’t speak english. Soooo, not only do I have to order bouquets like white lilies, with accents of birds of paradise and hydrangeas with an assortment of Gerber’s, circus coloured roses (yes, in weddings, circus is a colour, which as you can imagine, translator also doesn’t pick up on) with a splash of the berry looking things that the bride doesnt know the name off but I better friggin get it right anyway as it is her wedding day.
And that is just the bouquet. And that is just one meal. Now think of 2 to 3 weddings a day, with music, lights, decor which we wont even go into, all having to impeccable for obvious reasons and all having to be ordered through my broken spanish, and ALWAYS of course hearing about it because of something like I ordered a taffeta overlay instead of an organza overlay.
Do you know the difference in taffeta and organza? Well I do because I am a wedding planner. What I DO NOT know is how to translate those non real words into Spanish. So sometimes there are mistakes like that and I always get yelled at for it.
And that is not to mention the accounting that comes with it and having to explain to brides their bill that came out in pesos, which I still actually don’t understand yet. Life at the resort is a non stop exhausting battle that I am glad, to say the least, to be leaving in the past.
Anyway, I feel that I have exhausted you in sharing a tidbit of my life at work with you. This was not supposed to be a blog about work. I don’t have much of an opportunity to talk about what life is really like there. I am too busy trying to ensure my hair is perfect, my Spanish is perfect, and that I am always smiling, just in case.
This is the good thing about blogging, it a perfect way to rant about life to my friends, who would usually sit in a coffee shop in Deerfoot meadows (Tammy) or the Ship & Anchor pub (Foxy), or after a few glasses of wine and before a night of drunken dance partying (Bradon), or over a family dinner at the old White Spot (Vicky), and listen to me blab on and on about whatever is currently irking me. Now there is no coffee shop, no old irish pub, no wine and dance nights, no White Spot, but a blog. I miss you guys so much.
Tonight B and I are going to a raved about local restaurant on the beach called the Barracuda. After a lazy afternoon of napping and blogging, I am looking forward to a romantic night of fresh fish and local wine and an ocean breeze with B.
That’s all for now folks. So much for my short blog idea.