Latin American Job Fair - A New Experience

DAY 1: I was so buzzed about the possibility of finding a job this weekend for overseas and staying in a nice hotel, that without looking I boarded a Hilton shuttle, not realizing that there are three next to the airport. I looked out the window as the shuttle motored along and walked into the hotel with a spring in my step, all smiles, and started my friendliness with the man at the desk before I was planted. I gave him my name and he started his look, but then I noticed his face. "Oh, that's not a good face," I said to the guy. "What's your name again?" After a few minutes of checking and me checking a master list that he handed to me it dawned on him. "What hotel are you staying at?" Yup. We laughed together, both at me, lucky, lucky, and then he directed me back to the shuttle, which was in another location for all of you thinking that I wouldn't have been able to find my way back to where I initially got out.

Climbing back aboard the shuttle, I realized it was the same one as soon as I saw the driver. "You didn't listen to me," he said, after I told him I need the other hotel. I should have just explained that I'm a teacher and have always had a hard time with that one. Going along with a few other men from the airport, after letting two of the others off, one still remaining, some kid wanted to get on at the wrong spot and started getting testy with the driver for not letting him on. After we started rolling away, the driver complained about people's lack of listening skills out loud, maybe to himself, but there were two in his audience. Upon hearing that, I quickly quipped, "Well, maybe people just want to ride with you." My other compadre laughed, the driver was silent.

After joking around with the people at the front desk now at the right hotel, taking the elevator, and going to my room, I opened the door to a clean, cig-smell free, large room. I started unpacking, called the rents to let them know that I arrived safe and sound, and suddenly felt thirsty. I came prepared with cider packets, so thought I'd break one out and treat myself. Now, where do I get the water? Would the hotel supply bottled water? Would I have to pay for it? I had this routine cycle of thinking running in my head for a few seconds longer than I would like to admit before I realized, "Ah, yes, I CAN drink the water out of the faucet here! Just like at home!" Funny, yes, but for two years my thirst-quenching body has been conditioned to a certain type of thinking, one that is changing, but ever so slowly.

The orientation made me nervous, clam up like most people probably can't even believe. I wish I was the type of person that just goes up to someone and starts talking, laughing. I get there, but it takes awhile.

As the night stretched on I started to panic more and more, thinking that signing up with a school is a huge, life changing decision. It is, but it is also just two years.

DAY 2: This morning I woke up early, had breakfast downstairs in my pajamas (which I was disappointed to find no one joining me), and later dressed, anxious for the sign-up interview process that would take place. Upon arriving at the designated room, my hands began to shake and turn ice cold as if I had been locked outside. Armed with my list of schools, I made my way to my first choice, introduced myself and shook hands. I hoped that my looks were deceiving, because inside I was a ball of nerves. I was so nervous that upon writing down my interview information, I noticed that my hands were shaking.

Going through and meeting different directors, not to mention overhearing people's conversations, I started to sink just below the water line. So many of the people here have experience in accredited schools with standard American or European standards. I have experience, great experience that I have loved and would never take back (even the almost unbearably hard stuff), but it just doesn't hold up.

And so where does that leave me?

I have a interviews lined up, my first choice being in just half an hour, which I know I will rock, but whether or not they choose to accept my nontraditional and varied experience will be another story.

It has me thinking that I might be sticking around longer than I planned, hanging out right where I am or moving to the city, choices of which I know would make many happy. Then again, who knows what's around the next corner.

AFTER THE FIRST INTERVIEW: To my pleasant surprise, I rocked my first interview. The director asked me questions, some of which I wasn't sure how to answer, but gave it the best that I could. At the end he said that he was wondering how I would fit in with the rest of the staff, that he could see me really hitting it off with everyone, and that he had no doubt that I would do really well at the fair.

It would seem that I'm nervous all over again, nervous about being offered a job and being away again without the large expat community that I was hoping for. Excited that someone sees value in my varied experiences and the possibility of having a job.

It is just terribly exciting and nerve racking.

DAY 3: So I woke up, hung out, then made my way downstairs and checked to see if I had any messages. I received call backs, but most importantly from the one school that I really felt good about. After breakfast I spoke with Mom and Dad, then Dave, about Venezuela and that it sounded amazing.

The second interview was good, so close to great. They want me, but have preference of a married couple, the two for one thing winning out a bit, of which I totally understand. However, the director went on to say that back in Puerto La Cruz they have a couple that doesn't seem to be happy, and that when he goes back in a week he might have a position to offer me.

I had a second interview and cancelled one at a school that I didn't feel right about, and so now I'm back in my room with the rest of the day on my hands.

This fair has been another great learning opportunity, if not a costly one, but totally worth it. It has made me think about my life in the next year or two, what is important, and how I want to live it. Figuring that out is worth everything.

And so where will I go from here? If I was offered the job in Venezuela either today, oh do I wish, or more probable next week, I'm taking it. My gut is telling me that it would be the perfect fit for me and I just hope that I have that chance. If it doesn't work out, I think Chicago has called me long enough (not to mention one of my fabulous friends) to finally give in. Chicago would be great and would put me in a classroom probably just as international as the ones I'm hoping to find abroad. Then again, there is always the charm and love of my parents in Woodstock.