hola madrid
well, i´m here. i´ve been here for over a month now. every once and a while, it´s still unreal to me. i feel really out of touch with myself because i haven´t had the time to reflect and keep up this journal. i´ve been spending all of my time adapting and readapting to new situations. my husband and i spent a month doing a tefl certification course so that we could find work more easily. the course promised us that the market was great, that we would find jobs quickly and that they would pay about 15 euros an hour. well, we did get work quickly, but i´m only getting paid 10 euros an hour and my husband is only making 9. and the only reason he got work was because a friend of ours quit her hours at the same school i´m working at, and they knew he was my husband. ah, nepotism. well, we needed the nepotism because i´m pretty sure he wasn´t getting called because of the arab name on his cv.
that´s the other thing. they get away with some bullshit in job interviews here. i got asked my age in my first job interview. i think the guy was assessing whether or not i was old enough to be taken seriously as a teacher. he´s only a year older than me. idiot. he´s such a scumbag too. he claims he grew up in london, but he has the most fucked up accent when he speaks english. i know my accent kind of switches to a chicana-style accent when i´m around other spanish speakers, but i don´t know what kind of brit he claims to be. he also excuses his poor wage by blaming us for not having papers. but of course, my australian friend, who does have papers, got lectured for her australian accent and got offered less than i did. this coming from the fake brit who so far has only hired two people with native accents: my husband and me.
then, in another interview where both my husband and i were applying for work, the woman looked at my husband´s name on the cv and remarked, "oh my goodness! i just noticed your name. where did you get a name like that?" when he explained that his parents converted to islam, she exclaimed, "why would they do that?". eventually the conversation turned to terrorism. what the fuck?! i´ll terrorize you beeyatch! later she called us to offer us work at 8 euros an hour. aggggh!
well, fortunately i´ve now got 11 hours and my husband has 16 and a half. crazily, this is enough for us to live on and for me to pay for my dance classes. of course, our standards are totally different here. we share an apartment with an old lady and we don´t have cars.
well, i have to rush to my dance classes now. just so all my lovely readers know, i will continue writing about my disorder because it hasn´t gone away (it´s just manifesting itself in different ways), but i´m also adding more info about what it´s like to be living as an immigrant here and about the flamenco world as i see it. stay tuned as i intend on catching up this week...
that´s the other thing. they get away with some bullshit in job interviews here. i got asked my age in my first job interview. i think the guy was assessing whether or not i was old enough to be taken seriously as a teacher. he´s only a year older than me. idiot. he´s such a scumbag too. he claims he grew up in london, but he has the most fucked up accent when he speaks english. i know my accent kind of switches to a chicana-style accent when i´m around other spanish speakers, but i don´t know what kind of brit he claims to be. he also excuses his poor wage by blaming us for not having papers. but of course, my australian friend, who does have papers, got lectured for her australian accent and got offered less than i did. this coming from the fake brit who so far has only hired two people with native accents: my husband and me.
then, in another interview where both my husband and i were applying for work, the woman looked at my husband´s name on the cv and remarked, "oh my goodness! i just noticed your name. where did you get a name like that?" when he explained that his parents converted to islam, she exclaimed, "why would they do that?". eventually the conversation turned to terrorism. what the fuck?! i´ll terrorize you beeyatch! later she called us to offer us work at 8 euros an hour. aggggh!
well, fortunately i´ve now got 11 hours and my husband has 16 and a half. crazily, this is enough for us to live on and for me to pay for my dance classes. of course, our standards are totally different here. we share an apartment with an old lady and we don´t have cars.
well, i have to rush to my dance classes now. just so all my lovely readers know, i will continue writing about my disorder because it hasn´t gone away (it´s just manifesting itself in different ways), but i´m also adding more info about what it´s like to be living as an immigrant here and about the flamenco world as i see it. stay tuned as i intend on catching up this week...