The Search is Painful

I'm sorry to admit it: I haven't posted anything new for awhile. For too long. I haven't even talked about our new place! I haven't talked at all about how it feels to be living here. I haven't told you about my new interactive Peter Pan Spanish book (ages 3 and up). I haven't mentioned the obscure Argentine play we stumbled into by accident on our way to see Robin Hood. I have given no indication of how cold the nights have gotten here, how I was forced ;) to go shopping for some new clothes. All of these things deserve mention, to be certain, but the reality is that right now, my life has been consumed by the search for work. I am living and breathing this search now, as our money dwindles and time runs short. The time is now for something to happen. Yet this search, like all my previous quests for employment, has been long, laborious, and painful.

I want to talk about my search, both as a guide for anyone thinking about doing the same kind of thing, and because I think I have learned much about Argentine culture through these hardships and mishaps of the past few weeks. Which I will glad share with you here.

Our search for work actually began over 4 months ago, in early February when we finished our teaching certifications and started to apply to hundreds (yes, really!) of language schools throughout Argentina via the internet. As we soon discovered, Argentinians (and I suspect most South Americans) are not overly found of indirect contact. This includes, but is not limited to: internet, email, telephone calls, snail mail and fax. As you might suspect, this cultural aversion to indirect contact significantly hinders a search for employment from thousands of miles away in a distant country. Those hundreds of email applications representing probably 50 hours of labor got us absolutely nowhere. If you are looking for work in Argentina, I would seriously dissuade you from even attempting the electronic route. Your best bet is to milk your friends and acquaintances for contacts in Argentina. Even the most obscure personal link will get you closer to an interview than hundreds of hours of online communication.

After miserably failing to elicit any responses from our cozy home in the US, we did something many people might consider lunacy: we bought a plane ticket and packed our backpacks anyway. We took the bare minimum since without a job, we also had no home by extension. But rejoice! How liberating to be able to cruise around looking for an ideal location. Once we decided to stay in Mendoza, we started networking our asses off. We asked the name of anyone who seemed even remotely friendly. English speaking locals were often subject to more intense scrutiny, such as: "where did you learn english? Why? Do you have children? Do they go to school for english? Where?" Any school names mentioned I frantically scribbled down in my moleskin. Using this methodology, I learned about the three largest and most well-paying schools in Mendoza, none of which were listed anywhere online. And that's another secret about Argentina: they like to keep the best stuff under wraps. This is true for buying meat in the local carniciera (ask for the stuff NOT on display), and it is true for finding work, too. I recently met a couple of english teachers working in Buenos Aires who had managed to secure jobs via the internet before arriving. Unfortunately, those jobs were so low-paying and miserable that both girls quit within one month. When I met them, they were both looking for something, anything, outside of the big city.

So today, at long last, I managed to make it to one of these three large schools where I dropped off my dusty CV (poor thing hasn't seen much action) and talked with an enthusiastic receptionist who told me: "Yes! We are always struggling to find teachers. I'm sure the director will contact you soon." Hallelujah! However, a saavy American like myself might hear that statement and think: well then, perhaps you should consider making it a touch easier to find you! Just a thought... Of course, the other two schools were closed for siesta by the time I was able to locate them. And this brings me to one more secret: while Argentinians paste huge advertisements for shampoo or tango shows daily on large, street-level wooden billboards; when it comes to signage for any buildings of an official capacity (schools, hospitals, post office, police station...), they seem to favor subtlety. Make sure you always look up the street number, not just the name of your destination.

And so alas, we come to the present. In four months, I have managed to elicit a positive response from ONE potential employer in Argentina. Awesome. If that doesn't give you a warm and fuzzy feeling of accomplishment, you are clearly stone-cold dead. Tomorrow, I will retrace my steps to the other schools and hope for an equally enthusiastic reception. Failing that, I have managed to wrestle together a list of about eight additional language schools in Mendoza who I will HAUNT. And of course, I will continue to hassle the good citizens of Mendoza for information whenever the opportunity presents itself. Luckily, being a sexy blonde in a country stuffed full of machismo pretty much guarantees that opportunities will come my way...

Any small tokens of positive energy, good luck, prayer, karmic intervention, or whatever other proscriptions for problem solving your own personal beliefs uphold, would be greatly appreciated by this little chica canela in my time of need! Love and kisses to all my friends and family who read this blog. xo