New beginnings...

[Red]

Everyone's words are such an inspiration to carry on with the journal... thank you!

Red, I too are now in the process of doing my CV (with no Aussie experience) and I too want the job that will be able to fit around the kids school schedules.

Trudie, just something to remember and maybe for everyone applying for jobs here in Oz...

MannyT (thanks Mr. T) gave Bern some advice and we are convinced that is what helped get us the interview... When sending in your resume, be sure to attach a cover letter addressing the specific points raised in the job advert... i.e If they ask for a 'team player' make sure you address that... for example... In my previous position of x years at x company, I was required to work with and lead various teams... blah blah...

I start work in the morning, and I am excited about it... and I look forward to reporting back to all!!

Take care everyone, and live life!

red

[Karen-in-Brisbane]

Hey Red - YOU GO GIRL!!

Enjoy the job and have a wonderful day tomorrow.

Love K

Edited March 9, 2009 by We R Going!

[Terence.H]

Good luck Red, I will be holding thumbs that you do not trip over your own feet! oh hang on! you will not be on a bike will you??

[Lyn]

Eagerly awaiting report back !

[Happy2Bhere]

Thanks for the advise Red!

Hope your 1st on the job went great and that you will be very happy.

Early awaiting to hear from you.

T

[Alida]

...................... Reeedddd ........ ????????? ..............

..... maybe she's busy conquering Oz ......

Edited March 12, 2009 by Alida

[FixAte]

I discovered your post last week Thursday, but couldn't finish reading it, because we went on a long weekend get-away to Stormsrivier (no internet) . So I had to wait until today to continue reading , and was it an experience!!!! I had to remind myself that I am not there yet. Also a few moments of sliding down my chair to prevend others from seeing the tears in my eyes (happy tears).

Hopfully we'll be receiving our Regional sponsord visa soon and experience Adelaide and AUS as our new home.

Thanks for you posts!!! Today have been dedicated to your post, what a blast!

[Red]

So I’m now a working gal… and not the type that stands at the street corner, I’m one of those damn telesales gals that just can’t get enough of the word NO!

As work day approached my emotions varied… I was excited but apprehensive… eager but not overly… relaxed but stressed… in fact I was a walking contradiction…

So much so that when I went to bed I guess the excitement and the lack thereof cancelled each other out and I was able to get a good night’s sleep.

When the alarm went in the morning, I just wanted to shut my eyes and sleep… I was shattered. Perhaps the riding on the weekend contributed… we had of course done a ride the day before … and ridden five hours, the day before that!

I did my usual routine, still with eyes half mast… sandwiches and snacks for Becca and Bern… coffee to wake the senses… and plonked in front of the TV. When Bern left for work, I was still lounging on the sofa… still in denial of the day ahead. Greeted Becca with one eye shut, and set the alarm for 7:30am. Now let’s just put this into perspective.

Becca has to be at school at 8:35am.

We aren’t riding because I need to be in my ‘first day best’ attire, and we have never caught the bus in the morning, AND I have no clue when the bus departs.

It’s now 6:45am and I decide to sleep just a tiny bit longer. How long can getting ready take anyway???

It gets to 7:45am and I just mange to get my butt off the sofa… I wonder if they call it a sofa because I ‘sit on (my) fat ass’… anyway, I manage to drag myself up to the shower and freshen up… Barking commands at Becca along the way. The shower helped, except I realised that by the time I had finished, it was now 8:05am… and I had wanted to leave at 8:15am… Mmm… problem… I don’t know what to wear…

I mean, this is of course is every woman’s downfall. You think you can conquer the world… and then you open the closet… and, oh dear… What the hell do I wear?!

Brown dress with leggings… dress is feminine and leggings… good combo… but crap, shoes don’t match… I need more shoes…

Next, Black pants and white button up blouse… nice and corporate… ugh no… the buttons are popping open and I look like a sloppy waitress…

Next…

and let’s just remember that I don’t have the time (or the inclination) to pick up the discarded clothes off the floor…

Jeans and T-Shirt… who am I kidding, right… next…

Ah yes, black dress with leggings…. Black is always good, and luckily I have shoes to match.

By this time 8:15am I am happy with ‘the look’ but have sopping wet hair… and a face completely devoid of any and all war paint… Yip, that’s right… I should have left five minutes ago, and I haven’t done the final touches… Running around doing mascara and eyeshadow, I realise that we don’t have bus fare. So I have to con my seven year old into lending me some of her well saved dollars… I convince her that I will pay her back (with interest) and we are ready to go… I remember to brush my teeth at the last minute, stumble down the stairs, tripping over my own two feet… and shout to Becca… You’re ganna make me late (oh, whatever… find anyone to take the blame)… Tapping my foot at the door, Becca informs me that she has lost the money… our bus money!!

And that would probably be about the time, I thought human combustion was possible. I threw her bag in a fit of panic… and marched out the door… it was her money after all, and hell… the worst thing that could happen was that she would be late for school.

We literally ran up to the bus stop… Becca moaning every step of the way! We managed to catch the last school bus and the bus driver, when I enquired about the cost said… ah if I’m driving ya darlin’ no fee… but another driver will cost ya about 5 bucks’…

Bliss!! We caught the bus down the road (it’s a long road people, don’t judge) and hopped off just before the school…

Apologising for any unmotherly behaviour I gave Becca a kiss and a wave goodbye. And headed on for work. The walk itself was somewhat tedious and rather hot… I was relieved to have worn black…

And relieved that I had got to work on time…

I was met at front reception and lead to the ‘dungeon’… The call centre is like the dingiest part of the building… right at the back and at the bottom of the building. I think we’re in a basement actually…

I was so relieved when I met the other new girl… especially when I realised that my sopping wet hair was no match for her (worn) navy blue tracksuit pants, white (brown?) takkies and a khaki green T-Shirt nicely complimented with a giraffe silhouette.

And when we were taken on a tour of the building, I knew my outfit would be ok, when I glanced down and read the fuschia pink embroided words across her rear… Sexy bum…

Meeting the other women was daunting. They bombarded the call centre with loud voices and large personalities! Openly checking us out… looking us up and down… thank goodness I didn’t have sexy bum across my rear. I sent Bern a panicked sms that said ‘This is scary, a bunch of loud Aussie womenâ€â€¦ and his response was… Welcome to Australia.

I hate being the new girl. And what’s even worse, I’m that dodgy new girl with that dodgy flat voweled accent. I was relieved when training began. Although, my stomach sank when we cut training early because the other new girl was proving to be the local call centre know-it-all… and I must have exuded some sort of call centre confidence that they thought I could do it all… just fine. At the desk, I had my telephone ear piece awaiting, with a cold lead book staring back at me…

Now picture this. I am trying to sell Lottery tickets to raise funds for a local charity. The tickets are $50 each. And I am trying to sell these tickets to people from all over Australia. So yip, I am having to speak with people from the bushfires, people from the floods and people ALL over the country having to deal with the whole ‘ Global economic crisis’…

It was tough… but it went quickly because with so many tours, introductions and “trainingâ€, effectively I only had to cold call for an hour and a half. I had made it through the day… and the girls seemed ok. Tomorrow was going to be ok, and so was I.

Wednesday was my worst day. If I thought I was tired the day before, it was NOTHING compared to what I felt like then. I couldn’t face going to work … Bern had to make lunch… and eventually had to drag me out of bed before he left for work… My alarm still set from the day before, I decided to sleep in on the sofa again… and again, having to drag myself up to the shower barking orders at Becca… and again having wardrobe dilemma’s… and again slapping on make up at the last minute. By the time my mascara had dried, I was in tears… I wanted to stay at home and hide from the world…

I hopped on the bike with Becca (much easier than walking and catching the bus), dropped her off at school and headed for work.

I had to stop a couple of hundred metres ahead and dry up the tears. I felt so stupid… I must have looked really stupid.

Walking into work was a bit better than my first day. And I knew it was going to be ok because I had done the job the day before BUT what I wasn’t prepared for was doing the job for five straight hours… Five hours of sitting in the same postion, staring at the same damn sheet in front of me, getting rejected by every person that I phoned… having the phone slammed down in my ear, people verbally abusing me… the list goes on and so do their excuses.

The worst part was having call-centre-know-it-all sitting next to me… Making sales here there and frikken everywhere. When lunch time came, I picked up my phone to get some reassurance from Bern. This is where I have to hand it to the guys. They do this whole immigration thing like true champions… whilst the wives/partners (ok, I’m speaking for myself here) generally have moments of complete collapse!

Bern was trying to find out what was wrong… but there was nothing to explain… the work was ok, the people were really nice… the office was welcoming… AND I had made one sale… but, I was still in tears.

I now know that it was just because I had to spend my entire day being rejected. And I like to be liked… I mean let’s be honest here… who wants to be hated?!

The girls in my office were fantastic, and even managed to help with lifting my spirits, and reassuring me that it would all be ok… It was hard but each day got a little better. I was even invited to join a bunch of them on a quick lunch excursion to the local salvo’s (Salvation Army shop). And on Friday, I got to know them all a little better when we went out for lunch to celebrate one of the ladies birthday’s.

Now you see, you have to remember that we don’t really get to talk because we are on the phones the whole day… so I can only really judge by appearances. But whoever said that you can’t judge a book by its cover, sure was talking about these gals…

*Mary is a large lady. Large in size and large in attitude. Quite frankly, she scares me… and scares most of the other gals. She looks like a no nonsense, take everything serious and don’t bend the rules kinda gal. Amazingly when we went for lunch on Friday, she was nowhere to be seen and when I enquired as to her whereabouts, I was informed that she was at the other end of the hotel playing on the pokie machines… nothing like having an office lunch and someone’s gone awol and headed off to gamble.

*Molly is rough and tuff from the… call centre. When I arrived at the lunch she had a tequila shot waiting for me… mmm… let’s think about this, we only have an hour for lunch, and we still have to go back and work BUT the girls are drinking like escaped convicts. I was about to decline, until she asked if South Africans didn’t know how to knock back tequila. So I grabbed the salt, licked the hand, poured the salt, licked the salt, shot the liquid, chewed the lemon and proved South Africans girls know how it’s done…

The funny part about Molly is that she is a pretty blond, with a smiling face and smiling eyes… but boy…I was shocked… and not so much when she scooped the gravy out the gravy boat with her finger, but when she let out a RIPPER of a burp at the table, not once but TWICE!

Lunch was truly an eye opening experience… and not what I had anticipated at all. I think working in the call centre is going to add an awesome chapter to my new beginnings…

Till the next time, take care…

*Names have been changed for fear of workplace disharmony.

[Karen-in-Brisbane]

hey Red - nice to hear about work. Somehow you make everything seem like a breeze. have you ever considered writing?????

In between the lines I note that you have had a few tough moments but you are amazing in that you urge us all on and encourage us all with your wonderful wit and cheerfulness.

I am sure you will be a real hit at the office and I wish you so much success!!!

K

[Lyn]

Brilliant - as always !

Save yourself some time in the morning - no makeup needed

So glad things are slowly settling - you've made a few sales - well done !

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FOR TODAY - SWING BACK SOME MORE TEQUILA AND CELEBRATE IN OZZIE STYLE - JUST NO RIPPERS PLEASE - YOU'RE TOO MUCH OF A LADY !!!

[Red]

I’m still not used to:

• Having to make sure I always have coins in my wallet when I shop at Coles. You see, because so many people use trolleys (and then walk home with them), Coles have developed a system whereby you insert a coin ($1 or $2) and the trolley chain is unlocked from the others. This has become a real pain, especially when you are trying to do a big shop. A trick though, if we are in a more up market area, we know that generally the people are too lazy to push the trolley back to the trolley bay, and they forfeit their coin. In the lower income area’s there is no hope in getting a trolley, because if someone has left it standing, someone has pushed in back to claim the dollar. Becca has also learnt its fun to push back lazy people’s trolleys and score a little cash.

• The way the Australians criticize their politicians… If you thought South Africans moaned, well you’re in for a surprise! I often used to think that the Aussie’s had no clue what other politicians were like BUT I have since decided that the government here HAS to work for its people otherwise they will get thumped. So good on you Aussies… carry on with the criticism.

• All the signs. To say that the Aussies are safety conscious is perhaps an understatement. Often I expect to see a sign that reads ‘Mind your step, beware of sign’… or better yet, I almost expect to see when we are mountainbiking a sign that reads ‘Uneven surface’ or better yet… caution ‘cyclists ahead’. Then again, there is no excuse for ‘not knowing’ or doing the wrong thing.

• The school system. Kids here are encouraged to have self discipline. I mean, can you imagine what that must be like for our poor Saffer kids that come over here. They come from a system which would make Hitler proud… a system of fingers on lips, respecting anyone just because they are older/wiser, a system of standing in lines and a system of ‘because I said so’. And they get to school here and our kids act like they have been freed from the shackles of dictatorship. I couldn’t understand what was happening to Becca… from being a fairly ‘rule abiding’ kid, she went AWOL… And within four weeks of school, she’d already been sent out the classroom twice, pulled some girls hair in the bathroom, been sent three times to join another classroom AND been sent to the principal’s office for pushing some boy. And the more she went berserk at school, the more I went berserk at home. I tried everything, took away privileges, play time, reading time… and nothing worked…. Nothing…. And before my eyes my daughter had turned into my worst nightmare… and even worse, I had turned into the type of mother I never wanted to be… And only on discussing this with the school secretary did my lightbulb (finally) switch on… and I realised that it was because Becca has NEVER experienced self discipline. She has always been told what to do and how to do it… both at home and at school. And the more control I was trying to regain at home, the more out of control she was getting at school. I had to force myself to suppress the control freak in me… and I am still getting used to the new approach, it seems to be working… she hasn’t had any warnings this week… well…. she hasn’t had any warnings yet. And like Bern said, even though I was trying to help her avoid punishment at school, she has to learn about consequences herself.

• Calling a bakkie a ute, a robot a traffic light, a koki a texter, a sausage a snag, a swimming cossie a bather, a bottle of Tip-Ex a bottle of liquid paper… really the list just goes on!

• Saying Yip instead of yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Saying Hiya instead of Howzit, and saying Seeya instead of Cheers. And eating dinner at lunch time, at tea at dinner time.

But, I am now used to:

• Those people that were once complete strangers. I think its part of the reason we have been able to settle so quickly, we have managed to find friends that we just ‘clicked’ with. Many that come over want nothing to do with South Africans in the early days… and only to make Australian friends.

However, when we got here, we realised the importance of sharing experiences with people who have gone through similar situations. And in time, I am sure we will make a few Australian friends… But we have a lot to learn before we understand their humour, their passions, their background and their way of thinking.

And it’s just awesome to be able to say voetsak, howzit, skattie, yaaaah, laaitie, bliksem and braai… and not have to explain myself.

[MarcK]

Me thinks you missed your true calling Red....light bulb moment....writing!

You could turn your experiences into the series of "Red's Experiences Down Under".

Seriously though.....I know it is tough but you had me in stitches.....

[georgie 1]

Wow...2 episodes in a matter of days. What a bonus. THANKS

You have missed your calling Red. Listen to us, the readers. All you get is positive crits so Really think about this. Publish ONE book and you may not have to work away from home ever again.

I meant to PM you about this writing skill of yours a while ago but thought I'd put it here so that others may also comment.

[Jill]

Hi Red,

I just love your stories, you write so well. One thing I also can't handle is sitting in the lunch room with a couple of "ladies" eating their food and the burping, just turns my stomach, I just get up and leave.

Jill

[Maggel]

O Yes. You go girl. You can write.

When I recount your stories in my own words to my family, they just do not think it that funny, but when I read it to myself or them, we are all in stitches.

[Pipit]

HI RED,

HAVING BEEN HOOKED ON 'THE ADVENTURES OF PRISCILLA QUEEN OF THE DESSERT', MURIELS WEDDING AND OTHERS, I AM NOW EAGERLY AWAITING -

THE ADVENTURES OF RED - A TRUE STORY DOWN UNDER'

REALLY.......YOU WRITE WITH SUCH PASSION AND ENTHUSIASM, A GREAT SENSE OF HUMOUR AND TIMING.

YOUR CANDID VIEW IS VERY REFRESHING AND I OFTEN GO BACK TO YOUR PREVIOUS JOURNAL ENTRIES IF I NEED A 'PICK ME UP'

SO....FROM AN OVERCAST BUT WARM CAPE TOWN.

CHEERS AND VASBYT

PIPIT

[Happy2Bhere]

Red , you are truly amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Red]

...

Thanks guys for the kind words, but I just have to point out that you're all very biased, because you're either in Oz, or trying to come over to Oz... and you are able to identify with me to a certain degree... and that makes for lovely reading...

It's not my writing, but your link to my writing!!!

I will continue to share my journey, because I am able to gain some perspective, and I love the way it makes some of you feel (even if you are laughing at my tears!!!)...

So, actually, THANK YOU... for being a part of my journey...

Xxx

[Antoinette]

Concession cards ....? You get asked at many places if you are a concession card holder. Basically if you earn under a certain amount you can get this card and then get discounts at school dentists and childcare etc. I am not sure yet if I should feel insulted when people ask me if I have a concession card.

Keep it up Red. Your "diary" is fodder for people doing the waiting thing.

[Mara]

Quite frankly I think we should have a special place created just for "Red's journey downunder"!

Excellent writing Red, well done!

[Lyn]

For me, New Beginnings really inspires me to carry on, no matter how difficult the challenge, or how new and foreign everything is.

Yes, We do relate - but by no means being biased. When I read your posts its like food for the soul. I just want to keep reading - laughing and crying with you !!

Mara, I agree, New Beginnings should be given a special spot on the forum.

[Alida]

I second that one !

[Aussie Russ]

Hi everyone, sorry to intrude. First let me introduce myself, my name is Russell I’m not an expat South African, I was born and raised in Perth Western Australia. My parents where 10 Pound Poms and emigrated here in the early 60s and I think because of the fact that I’m a child of expat parents, I’m drawn to the adventures of migration and the wonderfully adventurous brave people who embark on such a life journey. Whether its a change of scenery they’re seeking or the safety of another country, to me the stories that accompany them are truly amazing.

The reason I’m posting on this thread is because, Red, your style of writing, is so very readable, the way you can turn something that may be negative to some people, into a positive. The way you give so much detail with out over writing, is brilliant, I can picture all the characters that lived in that block of flats, your first home in Australia. Through your writing I can feel all the emotions that have followed you along the way. It takes talent to write like that and you are truly gifted.

Any way I’m starting to sound a bit weird!! So I’ll leave it at that…

Good Luck and God speed to all that are venturing or have already ventured across the seas to make Australia Home.

[Alida]

You are most welcome, Aussie Ross, welcome to the forum. Most of us on this forum are part of this awesome, scary journey and we soak in news of those 'already there'. Forumites like Red contributes so much to make us more courageous to tackle all the big things ahead of us. We who are still in SA sometimes feel stuck, anxious, eager to get out, so we are so eager to learn of the world 'down under', where we all dream of making new beginnings ...

[Red]

Many immigrants will tell you, that at a certain point in their journey everything feels surreal… and as much as you feel at home, you don’t.

This is called new beginnings because that’s exactly what it is. Everything is new… the smells, the sights, the sounds, the people, the fauna and flora… everything.

The first time I experienced a rainfall here in Adelaide, I felt a familiarity I haven’t felt in months. The cold rain hitting the tar awakened my senses and took me back home… and home wasn’t Africa… Home was that place in my heart, those comfortable candy-floss feelings…. that smell you just can’t verbally describe… yet a smell that describes wonders to your heart…

And as an immigrant you begin to understand that when you packed your suitcase, your box of comfort was a luxury that just couldn’t quite squeeze in.

Whoever said home is where the heart is truly underestimated the power of those words…especially for an immigrant. It’s amazing to see how people long for home… and yet, they are unable to describe why. They are enjoying their new life, new surroundings, new job…

I think they long for familiarity, that comfortable candy-floss feeling… and so they long for home… the only place they know… the only place they felt comfort.

BUT… living without comfort opens new chapters to your life… A new beginning, with no limitations placed on yourself or others.

I feel I can do anything here, be anything I want to be… I have no one judging me on past experience or social standings.

I can be the person I wish others to see…

I can be a paper delivery person, a shelf stacker, a dog walker, a window cleaner… even a call centre operator… it’s all about choice.

What you can’t choose is the direction your life leads… but luckily so far… I have been pretty impressed with life’s decisions and the path it’s chosen for me to walk along…

Or should I say ride along… because that’s all I seem to do these days… well, at least I’m having the ‘ride’ of my life!

Work is really adding a new dimension to my ‘ride’. The first week was pretty interesting. Everything and everyone were new. By Friday though, I had managed to make a couple of sales here and there, and I realised on Sunday evening, I was kind of looking forward to going back and learning more.

My first call on Monday nearly caused me to fall off my chair… when the guy on the other end of the line said he would buy three tickets! That’s $150!!! Try converting that…

I make about 130 connects a day… that’s when I actually get a person on the other end of the phone… and I must dial the phone at least 380 times. I have one of those groovy little headsets coupled with that kiff South African accent…

I get rejected ALL day long. I have tried the overfriendly routine, the stern routine, the quiet routine, the slow routine, the speed-read-everything-on-the-prompt-sheet routine… and it all depends on the mood of the person on the other end of the line.

Often, if I introduce myself and if they respond with a heavy sigh, I just go straight into it by saying – I am selling lottery tickets for a charity, mate…. Do you wanna buy? They’ll usually say nah anyway…

Sometimes, I introduce myself, and they just slam the phone down in my ear…

But my worst, by far, is when I have a person fascinated by the flat-voweled accent. The idiots keep me rambling for five minutes about the lottery and the prices and all about the cause.. and when it comes to the final crunch.. CAN YOU PLEASE HELP? They just respond with… ‘Nah, but where’ya from?’

I mean… for flippen Pete, Tom, Doug and Stacey’s sake… really... do they even know how boring the routine gets?!?!

All day long, I hear the same words… over and over and over and over, like a stuck cd… and all he wants to do is listen to my accent… pah-lease buddy… phone Africa if you wanna hear it!

Talking about phoning Africa… I have called two companies and landed up chatting to South Africans… the one guy donated… he said he heard me say South Africa and he was sold… the other, well… he told me to go look at his website… and didn’t buy a ticket… I haven’t looked at the website either.

At all times, I have to be polite.

And this proves to be somewhat difficult for this feisty red head... I don’t take kindly to insults… Especially when, at the end of a conversation with a particular cantankerous old git, he says to me…‘what a jerk, bloody w@nker’… and slams down the phone…

Yes, he did… the old man called the sweet, friendly telesales LADY, a w@nker… I mean, let’s all be upfront about the issue… how a lady can be a w@nker???

And this was my make or break moment for me… Should I pick up the phone and have it out with him, get him to explain the finer details… should I take his phone number… cycle to the nearest call box and express my most vulgar outburst right back… should I… should I…

It just wasn’t worth it, and I laughed. The rudeness still irritates me a bit… but I don’t take it all personally. I can’t. Also, it’s quite strange, but people just can’t say no… there always has to be an excuse, ok some are legitimate… Many Aussies do donate, and it’s fair enough that they can’t donate to every flippen charity… but the excuses I hear, are priceless!!

And I’m now compiling a list of the best one’s yet… here are some from this week.

It is important to bear in mind that we ONLY phone businesses… and we ALWAYS ask for the owner.

So they (the owners) get the whole speech and then I say…

So, will you be able to help?...

… ah,nah… I’m actually only half an owner…

… ah, nah… I’m in the middle of dead sh!t nowhere…

… ah, nah… I’m a student…

… ah, nah… I’m retired…

… ah, nah, sorry did you want the owner...

… ah, nah… I’m actually on a church roof and my credit card is in the car…

This week’s winner would have to go to the wonderful lady who owns a television repair shop… I had phoned her and given her the speech earlier and she had told me to call back, I didn’t manage to secure her name, however she assured me that she would be the only one to answer the phone when I called after lunch…

Funny when I called back, and asked her if she would be purchasing a ticket… her response was…

… ah, na… sorry… I’m just the cleaning lady.

I couldn’t believe she thought I would be so naïve as to think a business owner would let the cleaning lady answer the business line… When I asked the ‘cleaning lady’ if I could perhaps speak with the owner… she replied with…

…ah, na… it’s just me here, mate… I’m on me own…

Whatever… I might have been born in Africa, but I wasn’t born yesterday!

Besides all the excuses and the abuse I’m actually beginning to love getting up and going to work. I work with a crazy bunch of women… a whole page needs to be dedicated just for them… if you thought our neighbours in council housing were interesting, just wait for the next installment.