Job: check.

The notorious "unemployable" is now just the opposite. I am employed, therefore, employable. It is nothing glamorous (surprise) and it is not experience that I will be able to apply to any future career (Lord, have mercy on me and give me a future career). It is, however, a pastime that I not only have much experience in, but one that I have semi-perfected. I say semi because each day brings a new surprise in the form of temperamental moods. I am a nanny, yet again. The ever-capable care-taker of children. A modern day Mary Poppins that lacks the flying umbrella and whose "children" are active members of today's "spoils" system". Do not mistake them for bratty, that they are not, they can be sweet; however, being children of our society today, they have lost that certain innocent and obedient quality that was once innate to the kids of past generations. What they want is what they get, and God forbid you tell them "no". Oh well, it is only temporary and I move ever onward.
So now that I have a schedule, a commitment(not my favorite of words) and an income, it is time that I focus on the future. My future: my academic/professional/personal/mental future. The possibilities seem endless. Here I am, at this point in my life where I feel I have too many options, so many to pick from that I am having such a difficult time doing just that. Maybe I'm a part of the "spoils system" after all. Just a few months ago I was traveling through countries in which most of the members of their societies have little to no options. They are born, they are raised, and they will die in the same place, doing the same thing. They don't have many "career" options. They are lucky to have any job at all that can provide food for the table. Every person in this country, however, has an opportunity, every person in this country is capable, and with motivation, is likely to overcome discouraging odds. So here is the problem I can see with having all the opportunities in the world: not taking full advantage of them; having the fear that your lack of success will be disrespectful to all those who don't have the options, as if you wasted it-- that we are products of a wasteful society. I guess I have to silence the fear and not give it a surface to thrive upon.
So for now I have a job and what's left is to create a clear path in a forest of options with many intersections. It seems that everyone else is doing it, so surely, then, I am capable.

If You're Happy and You Know It...

I had a life first this week. I applied, interviewed, accepted, started and quit a job in less than one week. I know what you are thinking: "this girl finally gets a job and then quits?" Here was the problem: false advertising. After weeks of perusing Craig's List job vacancies I found one that seemed suitable for me, Gymboree Teacher (Development classes for babies to five year olds). However, what initially seemed to be a teacher role very quickly turned into an entertaining clown role. I should have known from the beginning that this was NOT what signed up for, but I was too blinded by the possibility of work and an income. After two days of training and feedback such as "You are too laid back" or "Try and be more peppy" or "You should be clapping practically the whole time, Maggie" I started to come to the realization that no amount of hourly wage(well, that may not be entirely true) was worth the downhill slope at the bottom of which no dignity would be left. Dramatic, you think? No. I was at the mercy of 2 year olds telling me with their eyes (and the eyes of their unsympathetic parents) to "jump, clown, jump". After a formal resignation I promptly received an email from the director that hired me as a form of "consolation". Basically trying to assure me that there is nothing wrong with me but that it does take a person with very special skills to fulfill such a duty...and in the end she said "she's not surprised". Gee, thanks, am I that transparent? Were my clown inabilities really that obvious? Can I really not even convincingly fake acting as a total goof in front of gawking children and their parents. Well, that's another ridiculous career option I can check off my list, only about 232 more until I have narrowed the list down to the golden few...
P.S. When singing "if you're happy and you know it clap your hands", just clap, seriously, always clap, or the wrath of a stay at home mom will come upon you and your firstborn.

Samantha Brown, you are such a tease.

I am beginning to believe that the sole purpose of all of Samantha Brown's charming shows is to rub in that "You, Maggie, will never have a job like mine". Deliberately or indeliberately, Samantha Brown has a way of putting my life in rather harsh perspective. She has met and continues to meet Hawaii, Latin America, Europe and great American weekend getaways. What have I done today? Do you really want me to waste your time? I guess in a way, I have seen those places as well, seeing as I am a faithful viewer/admirer. Why? Is it because she is charming and personable (which she is, by the way)? Or perhaps because I have a pretty impressive ability to live vicariously through people I admire, and I need material? I daydream more than probably anyone I know, the problem, however, is I have a difficult time coming back to my reality: the basement. I find myself completely far too involved in these complex faux realities in my mind. Honestly, though, you would daydream about visiting the Inca ruins of Machu Picchu at daybreak with no one around, a tour of Gothic cathedrals throughout Europe or a one-on-one lunch with Mexico's scariest Lucha Libre fighter(who turned out to be a big teddy bear in the end).
I was rejected to yet another job yesterday. It's okay. At this point I have become reasonably familiar with rejection (especially in a professional sense). What is most disheartening about this particular rejection is that unlike all the other jobs that I was not experienced enough for, Enterprise was actually looking for a candidate with little to no experience so that it could mold the lucky winner into the corporate Enterprise robot it loves and trusts. I, to Enterprise, apparently do not fulfill the "image" they are looking for. That's okay, on to the next.
In the end, I have faith that I will find something right for me. All the rejection letters, or lack thereof, are all just working together(stars aligning, perhaps) in order to find the place that is right for me. As for me, as for right now, Bourdain is calling to me, he wants me to check out mesmerizing New Jersey.

Don't Mess With Marlow

So the other day I go "job-hunting". Basically this involves driving/walking around from shop to shop hunting for "Now Hiring" signs or the occasional blatant(and intimidating because no one enjoys being publicly rejected) question of whether they are hiring and/or should you leave your resume "just in case". The consistent response to whether they were hiring was no and the common response to whether they would like to hold on to my resume "just in case" was a very indifferent and absolutely unconvincing "okay". If anyone is searching for a humbling experience spend a day going around to shops and cafes you NEVER go to in order to ask them for a job that they do not want you for. The icing on the bitter cake of my day was the last place at which I planned to drop off my resume for the day. It was a hotel cafe. Attached to the hotel was a bar and restaurant (not sophisticated by any means) in which I was supposed to wait while waiting for the manager to see me. I sat, about half an hour actually. The manager didn't come to speak with me, instead I sat in a booth dazed and confused by the bizarre scene in front of me. In a matter of about ten minutes a chef, a "resume builder for temp agencies" turned bartender and a server managed to reduce my dignity, confidence and self-respect to mere dust. All three vital restaurant employees ganged up on me and went to town. The chef after reading my resume looked at me and said, "Wow, I bet your parents aren't disappointed in you", I was speechless. Then he went on to criticize my resume and compared it to (since I'm a girl, he said, he'll put it in terms I would understand) going on a date and needing to "sell" myself, for instance wearing a short skirt, low cut shirt and a lot of make-up. Still, speechless. He also said that if he were one of the employers I sent my resume to that he wouldn't call me back either. THEN, the bartender approaches, reads my resume and is pretty much disgusted. She shows me the proper way to create a resume for professional jobs. Wow, she's so talented, she had that bar tending job in the bag... At this point, I get it, I know my resume is bad, thank you Marlow's Tavern for making that clear to me. Let us not forget to pay proper tribute to the server. He called my resume "ghetto-rigged". At this point I was so humiliated, shocked and confused that I just did not have anything left in me to stay. So after a half hour of verbal abuse from the restaurant staff, I left. There is nothing like being humiliated and insulted in public by a restaurant's staff to put your life in perspective. The best part about this experience was that I was not even applying to work in that restaurant. If that doesn't make you feel good about your employment status, I don't even know what to tell you; needless to say, not the best way to spend a Monday afternoon.

Still waiting for the epiphany...

So, here I am, sitting in my aunt's home back in Atlanta, GA, USA. You may wonder, actually I'm wondering as well, what is it that I'm doing now, 35 days home? Am I employed? No, I am not. Am I doing something to generate some income? No, I am not; right now, actually, I'm just draining the last of my savings that I brought home with me. Do I have a plan for my life, at least for the short run? No, not really. So what is it, you are probably wondering, that I do with my time. Let me take you through a pretty typical, average day. I wake up in time for lunch, which is pretty unfortunate since no one, myself included, actually wants to eat lunch when they wake up. The first couple of hours after waking up should be sustained with a breakfast type meal such as cereal, eggs or my personal favorite, Fiber One cereal bars. This is disconcerting for me because I really like lunch food. I like sandwiches, salads, soups, hot dogs, what else do we eat for lunch? What is even more disconcerting to me is that I have no will in the morning to wake up earlier, despite the fact that I enjoy the tradition of eating a cereal bar for breakfast, a sandwich at lunch and then a meal at dinner. My lack of a proper schedule is really only hurting me. What is even more alarming is that this is an issue. I have so little to report that I am informing any stranger that happens, to their misfortune, to stumble upon this post of the oh so exciting nature of my current lifestyle. I'm sorry, to anyone, who has taken three minutes out of their day to read this. You will not get the three minutes back, but keep in mind, I'm not getting any of these minutes back, and I'm right here in the middle of all this intensity...Anyway, perhaps I will create a job for myself. There is no investor to finance this endeavor, but I really don't need one now as long as I get an occasional weekly gig of either babysitting, deceiving a three-year old child into trading pacifiers for Disney Princess toys by telling her I'm the "Passy Fairy", or the occasional 'gift' from my [very old] grandfather to pay for my gas. I must show gratefulness, however, that I am not living on the street or going hungry since I have been so blessed to be able to live at my grandfather's house now at no cost to me. Things can always be worse. For anyone (doubtful) who is interested in the ever-so-interesting life of an unemployed, indecisive 23 year old college graduate who just came back from a nine-month journey from home with the only accumulated skills of budget travel and resourceful thinking, stick around. I am pretty positive that there is more to come. I have nothing else to do.

Return to the Motherland

I have spent the past couple of weeks back at home with my family in Lebanon. It was a perfect ending to very productive and fruitful nine months of travel. After living and working in New Zealand, to vigorously traveling Thailand and Cambodia, then volunteering and experiencing South Africa and finally seeing a very beautiful and picturesque area of England, I decided to end my trip back here, in Lebanon. And I am still here. My brother brought two friends with him whose extent of arabic language was "yes", "where is the bathroom?" and "the food tastes good". Surprisingly, my family and the two guys took to each other very well and were miraculously able to understand each other either through english-arabic, body language, facial expression or just blind faith that what the other was saying was understood. The two weeks we spent as a family eating (which is a very huge part of Lebanese culture), laughing, arguing/listening to politics and experiencing our fabulously rich culture were blissful. It wasn't until the end of our trip that we realized that the "labor strike" wasn't simply that, but a way for the different political and religious divisions within this country to have themselves heard, and this time it wasn't a peaceful revolution. Riots and violence in the streets of West Beirut made their way around. The "fighters", some being only zealous young boys with weapons, lit tires and cars on fires, closed off streets, shot at their opposition while hiding in buildings and some in the middle of the streets. As the army began maintaining the peace the fighting spread to other parts of Lebanon. That made travel in this country a bit more difficult. Conflicts would just break out and many people didn't know which routes to take in order to avoid it altogether. Fortunately for my brother and his friends their is a road to Syria (then to Jordan for them) that is supposedly clear and safe. Today they began their journey (and let's hope for their sake a very unexciting one)so that they can make their flight on time from Amman, Jordan to Chicago, Illinois. As for me, I was already supposed to leave but as we well know, the airport is still closed. I have the option of going to Damascus and flying from there, but unfortunately hundreds of other Lebanese and tourists had that same idea and all the seats are full. Right now I'm on a waiting list for a seat. We will see when I hopefully do get back home. How ironic that now, at the point that I'm willing if not almost looking forward to starting a "life" back home, I am unable to get there. Is this divine intervention? A sign that perhaps I'm not to go home right now? A sign that I'm supposed to keep on traveling and seeing the world through the inquisitive eyes I've been given? Only kidding, Dad, don't worry, I'm doing what I can to come back home. As for me? Do I kind of wish I did not come to Lebanon this time? There is no way. This country with its traditions, customs and political instability are all a part of me and my life. And every time I come back here I'm already wondering and hoping when the next time will be.

The Indlovu Project

Unfortunately, my time in South Africa has come to an end, but I am, however, quite grateful for the opportunity I have had here. I have spent three and a half very short weeks living in Capetown's largest squatter camp and have experienced a lot. My days mainly consisted of accomplishing random tasks wherever my two hands were needed, from feeding and holding babies in the creche, to serving lunch in the soup kitchen, to gardening and painting or simply just playing around with the "neighborhood" kids. Although it is a huge area here, the director and manager here have done a tremendous job of creating a strong sense of community. Di and Byiswa have worked very hard to build this community outreach program and, in my opinion, have made a very successful one. The soup kitchen is opened each weekday lunch to feed the elderly, sick and unemployed, as many as 200 a day, and all for the cost of about $50 per week. In fact, soon, anyone will be able to go onto the Shaster Foundation website and donate a week at the soup kitchen in honor of a birthday or holiday, in return the person who is to receive the "gift" will receive a card human mind has such an ability to adapt to its surroundings that even in such a place as the squatter camp, we got "used" to what we saw. It became a part of the life we were leading at the time. And, for me, that is a dangerous thing. I think the reason that so many people stand aside and do nothing to help such situations is because they have not seen it first hand, or do not feel the desperation. We on the other hand were living there, yet I still found myself occasionally overlooking the crucial need for change there. I had to, and still have to, remind myself to not be complacent, to not just remember the sweet children playing in the streets, but remind myself that these sweet children were sick, playing barefoot in dusty streets covered in broken glass, that many were malnourished, and some with parents who would squander the money for dinner on their afternoon drinking session. Yes, there were beautiful people with pure intentions and just wished for better lives for their families, those are the people that I can't forget to remember. A community based on this is what Di and Byiswa are hoping for, are working for. I love that place, what it represents and what it is striving to achieve. I hope to go back next year and see all of the advancements they have made. Oh, and there is a 15 minute video that basically sums up the Indlovu project and the exciting things it hopes to achieve. As soon as it is accessible on the internet, we will let all of you know! Also, if anyone is interested in lending support to Shaster and Indlovu, visit the website at www.shaster.org.za