Asking for help and other thoughts

Asking for help can be one of the hardest things for an individual to do. It can be seen as an admission of insufficiency and weakness. I like to turn this on its head and say that it is a strength. Asking for help is a recognition there is always more to learn and shows a certain confidence to act when a solution can't be found alone.

I have been underemployed since returning to Canada and unemployed for the last month. I have sent out over 100 applications to positions that I wouldn't mind doing, about twenty for positions that I really want (and know I could excel at) and have applied for innumerable jobs that would simply give me some money. I make cold calls, utilize my existing network and regularly follow up on applications. I keep a spreadsheet that helps me track jobs that I want to apply to, have applied to, where I am in the follow up, and the contacts for hiring managers. 

I have had next to no interviews. More often than not when I get a response it typically states the organization has received an overwhelming number of applications and that a strict screening process had to be used. The letter then says that while I have the skills and experience required, I didn't make the cut. I try not to take it personally, but after so many months of rejection it is hard not to wonder what is wrong with me.

In an attempt to improve this thought process, I have enrolled myself in a course that will help direct my efforts. I asked for help, and I haven't been looking forward to it in the least. I was expecting the class to be monopolized by individuals with certain challenges that were different than my own: uncertainty in the type of work to be pursued, little or no post-secondary education, mental or physical challenges, youth with little work experience or (im)migrants to Ontario. I had anticipated that I would be one of the older individuals with more direction, experience and education. How wrong I was.

I am the youngest, least experienced and have been without work for the least amount of time. There are engineers, social workers, legal clerks and financial professionals. Everyone has been searching for work for months, if not years. The room is full of frustration, concern and a desire to find meaningful work with decent pay. As I looked around the room, I saw people on the brink of defeat, exhausted with rejection and nearly about to throw their hands up and say, "That's it. I quit." 

While I hate to see good people in difficult situations, it is comforting to be surrounded by people going through a similar struggle as my own. I am not alone, and right in front of me are people that show me that my situation could be a lot worse. On the other hand, there are so many intelligent and skilled people who find themselves in this position, and that is a disconcerting reality for me. Not only does this show an over-saturation of skilled workers and a competitive job market, but it also indicates that the issue at hand is much larger than the individual. It is societal.

Today was the day I was to be on a plane

Today was the day I was to be reunited with my life, friends and dog in Guatemala. Right about now I should have been landing in Guatemala City and going through customs and immigration. Instead, I am writing cover letters, attempting to (re)build a life in Canada and my dog is asleep on the couch behind me.

It has been a quick three months. I have watched my big brother get married(!), aided in one of my best-friend's wedding planning, worked two jobs (marginally related to my career path), figured out how to get my dog legally into Canada and talked a lot about Long Way Home and the community I lived in.

You see, I haven't quite settled into life here. I long to be in Guatemala. At first, I was simply happy to be back in Canada. Now I find myself in a persistent home-sickness for my lifestyle there. I don't want to romanticize or idealize life in Guatemala. Things were certainly challenging, but as I have repeatedly said, I had never been happier.

Like many ex-pats, when I decided to stay in Canada I believed that my experience abroad would open up new career prospects and that I would easily be able to interact with friends and family. 

I was offered some advice by an HR friend when I first started looking for work here: change your perspective and realize that repatriation may be a backward step in your career. Those words seem to have more meaning than they did two months ago. I originally thought that my experiences would open up new job opportunities. To a certain point it has, but I here I am unemployed after my last position ended on Saturday.

Shortly after returning home I was told by the friend that introduced me to LWH that I should prepare myself to not be able to relate to people here. Initially, I shrugged his words off, but the longer that I am home the more they make sense. There are only so many sentences that I can start with, "In Guatemala..." before people lose interest. It is hard to understand life there unless you have experienced it for yourself. I am a good orator, but not good enough to hold people's attention for longer than a few weeks of my reminiscing.

I am told that the repatriation process can take one or two years - yikes! There has yet to be a challenge in my life that I could not overcome. This is simply another learning opportunity, but for right now it feels like an awfully long lesson.

Woeful Repatriation

I have always considered myself to be a socially conscious and politically active individual. It is something that I take a lot of pride in. I believe that compassion is best expressed by taking an active interest in the world and taking appropriate steps to make improvements: to be a thoughtful participant in the world you live in and depend on.

For the past year, I have had the good fortune to be surrounded by people that are diligently contributing their time and efforts to make the world a better place. People who reject the status quo and are often doing a lot of really interesting work in their home communities: alternative building, permaculture, aquaponics, poverty reduction, sustainability, gender relations, community building, the list goes on. It has been absolutely brilliant to perpetually be around such interesting people.

I'd forgotten how apathetic the Canadian population is.

I have been working on the KW by-election for the past week. I am working on behalf of one of the candidates attempting to gauge and garner support. I'm knocking on doors and talking to folks face to face. I've met a lot of people in really difficult circumstances: OW and ODSP recipients, new-citizens whose education doesn't transfer to Canada (and therefore are un- or underemployed), elderly folks that can't keep enough food in their cupboards, and returning students who after working all summer are wondering how they're going to afford books for the year. 

It broke my heart to know that there is little that I can do to help these individuals in the immediate future. It is worse that many feel incapacitated and accept their situation as just the way it is. Canada should be able to look after its population, but it doesn't. It is sickening that poverty like that exists in a country as rich as this.

Half way through my second day I was inundated with a sense of futility and sat down on the side of the road and cried, uncontrollably. 

One of my favourite things about being in Guatemala was that nobody argued with me that something needed to change; Guatemalans and Canadians alike freely admit that there is a lot of work to be done. Here, however, I have always found it challenging for people to admit that things are far from perfect. There's a prevalence of the pull up your boot-straps mentality that is hard to break. People have a certain type of pride that somehow makes it difficult to admit challenges and act with compassion. Opinions seem to be changing, but only slightly. 

Change of Plans

When I left Comalapa for Guatemala City I didn't really make an effort to say goodbye to everyone because I knew I'd be back. I cleaned up my room and packed everything into my wardrobe so that things wouldn't be too dusty when I returned. I only took the things home with me that I would need and left the majority of what I own there. I gave my dog to a friend to look after and said my see-ya-laters to my LWH family. What I didn't know then is that in less than three weeks my plans would drastically change.

As it turns out, my student loans and debt have become unmanageable on a grass-roots development worker's 'salary'. After a lot of long conversations and thinking things through, it is impossible for me to return to Guatemala until I get my finances in order here; something that I just cannot do without bringing in some Gringo dollars. So, I will stay in the first-world for at least nine months, but pragmatically I think I will have to be here for longer.

I don't think the decision has sunk in yet. I talked to my bosses (they're really more like my sisters) at Long Way Home yesterday and that definitely made it official. But, everything seems surreal right now.

My family has been awesome in making this decision. My brother and I had a series of long conversations earlier this week that were incredibly helpful. My parents just want me to do what's best for me and are very supportive and understanding. While these talks were exceptionally painful at the time and probably less graceful than I am describing, I am grateful that I have such a caring and compassionate family. 

My friends have also been wonderful. From inviting me over for beers on them to long conversations on the phone or via Skype, I thank everyone for their patience, time and nonjudgmental attitude towards my situation. Words don't do justice to the gratitude that I feel to be surrounded by such phenomenal people. I don't know how I lucked out. 

My next steps and trying to get myself into a position where I can return to my life in Guatemala...I am not entirely certain what Canada holds for me. I know I need to figure out how to get my dog here with me, sooner rather than later (she'll help me with the happiness factor). I think the process is fairly straightforward, but nothing in Guatemala is ever straightforward. I have lined up a couple jobs that will carry me through until the end of October. I think that's a good period of time to let me settle-in and figure things out a little bit more. I'm still adjusting to life here and have an even bigger task of adapting to the idea of being home for more than just three months.

Differences

I have been home for just over a week. For the first few days here I was stumbling through life. Everything appears to have gone on just exactly the way it did before. People's lives are the same and mine is not, for obvious reasons. I am fundamentally still the same person, but I see and think about things differently. My priorities have shifted.

I am uncertain how to properly explain the shift so I've come up with a couple lists to help me interpret the change mas mejor (more better - bad grammar in both Spanish and English). 

Things I Love About Being Home
Family and Friends. It has been absolutely delightful to see my family and friends in person. Yes, Skype is nice but it's not the same as sitting next to someone and feeling their warmth. It's awesome to be able to share a meal in direct proximity with those I love.

Fridges. None of us have a fridge in Comalapa. We have coolers that we can pack ice with when we're ambitious enough to walk to and from the store. It's amazing how quickly you can get used to not having a fridge. Even so, it is pleasant to have a cold drink and food at any time, and to be able to store meat for more than 24 hours.

Dairy Products.  I'm mildly lactose intolerant, but man, do I love dairy. Cream in my coffee? Yes, please! Cheese sandwich? Yum. Cold glass of milk? Ah, that's the life. I was really surprised when I got to Guatemala and could only get powdered milk. Dairy is ubiquitous in Canada, but not in Guatemala. There are a couple guys on our construction crew that have cows that we can order milk from, but the option of 'sugar or no sugar' makes me rapidly lose my craving for it.

Grass. The grass here is so incredibly soft, I'm not sure if you've noticed. We have grass in Comalapa, but it is an invasive species. It's prickly and sharp. I didn't really notice the difference when I got there, but now that I'm home I'm wondering why I didn't. Walking barefoot here is glorious. The grass feels like silk on my feet. I love it.

Things that Confuse Me About Being Home
Traffic. Here it's organized, predictable and calm. In Guatemala, traffic is a chaotic sort of organized. Vehicles frequently pass on blind corners and drive on the wrong side of the road with only with a couple blasts of the horn to let people know what's happening. I've been sitting on buses that jump the median on a highway to pass an accident...with traffic coming directly at you. People walk on the side of highways and in the middle of streets. Here, cars stay in their lanes and people typically stick to the sidewalks. Strange.

Sign on the volunteer porch

Trash. Working with LWH every piece of trash has purpose. Aluminum cans and trash-filled plastic bottles make bricks used to build walls; glass bottles make skylights and bottle-bricks; polystyrene makes insulation and a sealant; leftover food feeds the dogs; and raw veggie and food scraps make compost. Here all my trash goes in the garbage and then goes out on the curb. It has no purpose, no use and no value. One can hope that what can be recycled is, but I don't hold my breath.

Options. There are options for everything here and lots of them. I've only been into two stores since getting home and both times I've been dumbstruck by all the choices I get to make. It is overwhelming. I was confused when I overheard someone say, "there's nothing in this store." I audibly retorted, "really?" Stores are an adventure all in their own.

When to say hello. I've gotten used to saying hello to everyone I encounter. Whether I'm in the middle of a sentence, out of breath or in a crappy mood it is the culture to greet people. Here I find myself going to say hello, and then getting embarrassed and holding my head down trying to not make eye contact again. I even ran into a guy yesterday in my confusion.

Things that I Miss About Comalapa
Fidellia. She is our in-country Mom and gave me my Spanish name of Cristina. She's a strong and charismatic woman, and I miss sitting in her store chatting. She always gives my dog some bread when we come to visit, and I can just hear her saying to Whiskey, my dog, "Pobrecita, su Mamá no está" (Poor little thing, your Mom is not here).

The day I left Comalapa

My dog. She walks everywhere with me and is my personal security system. She found me and from there on out I've been falling more deeply in-love with her. She'll be nearly a year old when I return to Comalapa, and I'm guessing about twice the size. I'm sad that I won't get to see her grow and that we won't learn things together. I've left her with someone I trust so I know she won't pickup any (or too many) bad habits in my absence. I can't wait until we see each other again. I can almost guarantee that I'll cry.

Walking . Here if I want to go anywhere it means jumping in the car (my parents live some distance from two city centers). In Comalapa if I want to go anywhere it means grabbing my pack and going for a walk. Granted, I frequently complain about all the mountain hills I have to go up and down, but I'm also one of the first to point out how pretty the landscape is. The landscape in Southern Ontario is depressingly flat and driving makes it more difficult to enjoy the natural beauty.

Spanish. I wouldn't say that my Spanish is great. In fact, it is quite atrocious. I get by on a lot of really simple phrases that communicate what I need or want. I can't have an intellectual conversation, yet. Comalapan's are really patient with me and have taught me a lot. I miss hearing Spanish and learning to speak it better.

Back home with a new medium for my words

A number of people have been on my case to start writing a blog. I've always been nervous about having my thoughts and words out there for anyone to read. But, I've (finally) given in and here we go...

I've just returned home from 14 months in Guatemala. For the past month or so I have been preparing myself for repatriation. I anticipated reverse culture shock and I expected it to be strong. I imagined seeing familiar things and having them feel unfamiliar. Quite honestly, the strangest thing is how normal everything is. Maybe because I thought about it a lot. Or, as my brother said today, maybe it's because I lived for over 25 years in this place.

Don't get me wrong, things are different. But it isn't in a way that I find myself thinking, "that just doesn't make sense" or "that's such a strange way to do things." It's different because I've been living in a place where doing anything is a challenge: washing dishes, getting groceries, sending an email or keeping warm at night. It's peculiar that I already find myself expecting simplicity in everything and for infrastructure (like running water, electricity and roads) to work at all times. In Canada, it all seems so easy.

Before I moved to Guatemala I found myself increasingly unhappy with my life, with society and with people's lack of dedication to build a better world. I felt that the way that we live in countries like Canada was damaging the intrinsic nature of human beings, that we were abusing the gifts of the Earth and of human ingenuity at the expense of our planet and those who weren't given the same opportunities as first-world dwellers. Everyone is too busy living their lives to dedicate any real time to helping others. You see it in the way that 'do-gooders' run campaigns...tug on heart strings or moral obligations then ask for money, but never ask you to change your life or the way you live. That's too big of an ask.

I still feel that way, but I'm fortunate to have a new perspective based on experience. I find myself being able to appreciate the comforts that a country like Canada can offer its populace without being angry about it. I now understand why new-comers fall in-love with this country - things work, even when they don't.

I still firmly believe that we all have a duty to work towards ending poverty, achieving true sustainability (not just economic sustainability) and building a world where community and equality mean something tangible, but I now have a better understanding of the obstacles. I have seen the dire thirst for metamorphosis that exists in societies other than my own and how gruelling it is to work towards that. I want to figure out a way to blend ease of life and desire for change. 

I believe that Long Way Home is part of the solution. But I know that we're only a small group of highly dedicated individuals and that we can't do it alone. Each person needs to buy-in. While I believe that if everyone mimicked LWH's model that we could really make some waves, I know that it is easier said than done.

For tonight, I'm just going to relish in all the fantastically motivated people I have had the privileged to get to know and the experiences I have had the opportunity to live. To everyone in Comalapa, I miss and love you all. I've only been away for four days, but it seems like an eternity.