French People Everywhere!: Part 1
The first night we stayed in Oliver, we stayed in a feild near the dog beach at Tuc El Nuit lake. We couldn't find the public beach. Turns out there was one, but it was pinner. Most of the property along the lake was private and everything that wasn't had no actual beach to speak of.
So for the last few days, we've been trying to get work in this town as fruit pickers. Hasn't been going too well. We explored the town and found a few points of interest. The Dollar store where everything costs more than a dollar, The supervalue where everything we buy to eat costs less than a dollar, the 7-11 where we can get free plastic spoons to eat the raviolli we buy at the supervalue for less than a dollar, the library where I post in this journal about the plastic spoons we get for free at 7-11 to eat the raviolli we buy at the supervalue for less than a dollar, the liquor store, the beach and of course, the workzone and orchard organization.
The last two are of particular interest; the orchard association is the first place we went, thinking we would be able to get hooked up with a fruit picking job in no time. The lady who ran the place was a french woman with hand tattoos. All the people who were there for information were also french. I was noticing a trend here. The Orchard association lady was actually trying to discourage us from picking, telling us it was complicated and dangerous work.
What the fuck.
I smell elitism. I thought I was done with this bullshit when I left Vancouver, but apparently there's a little bit of it everywhere. So we tried the WorkZone. We signed up and went through their little shpeil then hit the boards. I called everyone on there who we thought would need pickers and low and behold, one of them wanted us to come in the next morning. It was an orchard a short walk out of town along #3 road. Have we managed to do the impossible? Tune in next time for the next exciting adventure.
So for the last few days, we've been trying to get work in this town as fruit pickers. Hasn't been going too well. We explored the town and found a few points of interest. The Dollar store where everything costs more than a dollar, The supervalue where everything we buy to eat costs less than a dollar, the 7-11 where we can get free plastic spoons to eat the raviolli we buy at the supervalue for less than a dollar, the library where I post in this journal about the plastic spoons we get for free at 7-11 to eat the raviolli we buy at the supervalue for less than a dollar, the liquor store, the beach and of course, the workzone and orchard organization.
The last two are of particular interest; the orchard association is the first place we went, thinking we would be able to get hooked up with a fruit picking job in no time. The lady who ran the place was a french woman with hand tattoos. All the people who were there for information were also french. I was noticing a trend here. The Orchard association lady was actually trying to discourage us from picking, telling us it was complicated and dangerous work.
What the fuck.
I smell elitism. I thought I was done with this bullshit when I left Vancouver, but apparently there's a little bit of it everywhere. So we tried the WorkZone. We signed up and went through their little shpeil then hit the boards. I called everyone on there who we thought would need pickers and low and behold, one of them wanted us to come in the next morning. It was an orchard a short walk out of town along #3 road. Have we managed to do the impossible? Tune in next time for the next exciting adventure.