If it is true that I hate flying, it's true that the transfers enliven my neurosis, run-that-is-going-on-plane me generates anxiety and, above all, fatigue. I'm fat, do not run. walk slowly, going slowly, it bothers me that I hurry. No way, was the most appropriate ticket (price per hour), so deep breath. Reaching the United States, if one has the right papers, it seems easier for me to leave. In the dozen times that chance and circumstance made me enter the country of the Coca-Cola, I never had any major problems, only for me and repeated occurrence of the ordinary because of my name. Just review the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil that is Google to find a chief of the FARC, a Mexican singer, a jerk who hit on I do not know who do not know what people of my country I've never been, and a wanted drug trafficker who go chasing the Americans for years and which, the first three times I set foot in their country, I "go to next room" where after the confirmation of my itinerary, I let out without major problems. Being overweight finally has its advantages, being outside the standard is easy to be discriminated against in law reviews ("live the difference?).
I came to Boston shortly after one o'clock (from Dallas airport I met only a couple of years ago was opened and the aerial view at the time of landing and departure, I made a huge city surrounded by rocks and desert, in huge houses, the expensive housing overcrowding called "condominium" - I saw small celestial points in every yard, so it seems that Texans like the pool or the heat is nefarious or both). My foresight hotel (to buy the ticket after making reservations) I had a night in the air or, rather, on the street, so I went to the generous solidarity of my former students. Paco Nicholas and I waited in his apartment near the university where they study and the way to the hotel they would be staying when dawn. Talk with them until four in the morning was reassuring.
Early while they still paid tribute to Morpheus, I took a walk around the neighborhood, the temperature would walk two or three degrees and my alpaca scarf was a weak fight. I walked into a supermarket and bought food, and the body more settled, I returned to the apartment shortly before eleven. The boys went to school and I took a taxi. I checked into the hotel and took a hot shower, long and refreshing. In one p.m. started the first bus to the convention center, I took it.
I arrived very early at the place where the fair would be held, but it was not the only one that Thursday had been cautious on schedule, and a hundred people (many housed in the same hotel where the event ') circled around. I was surrounded by teachers who, like me, were looking for a job, and doubts assailed me, how many get a job is this a sort of battle or every man-who-can ?, how can I, a Peruvian stranded in Mexico, had ended there, at a fair looking for work as a teacher in one of the many international schools around the world there? philosophy clearly not going to work for nothing at the time, so I held Charlotte's experience, the first of us, the first of Peruvian teachers at school we were working American, who dared to try and do that for three semesters taught, as only she knows, to love music to students in Kobe. So Charlotte was the final inspiration I needed to arm myself with courage and enter that room where all for an old habit I do not understand, smiled.
From 1:00 to 17:00 were six entries and the meeting would take place where teachers could hear latest advice from the organizers. I greeted Sally, who received me with great affection as honestly grateful for the "Hi, i am José Luis" as savior in these meetings where hundreds of people have the naive idea that the organizers will remember their faces and their names may relate amid a sea of \u200b\u200bpeople looking for work. After rigorous compliments, gave me a folder and said "follow the instructions." had a form to fill in that moment and another to deliver "the end", I spent a few minutes completing the data, gave the green paper which was marked and I noticed that Sally was already busy attending to another of the cuchucientosmil teachers that we would be meeting that night.
looked a little further and met Philip, my boss, and Carol, the head of my boss (both responded to my requests virtual and evaluations of him as my Director and hers as Superintendent of the school, were part of that added to my file.) The two were also filling out forms (I later learned, with obvious differences in content, recruiters and teachers spend more or less for the same proceedings) and the greetings were more than kind. Philip, English and ironic to the core, made one of those scathing comments that only biting understand (in my case, only when I lose myself in the stressed Shakespearean pronunciation), both gave me their room numbers (if need a recommendation in vivo ") and continued with its thousand paperwork. I got to wander through the hotel lobby until I came back to Sally and, before he was approached by one of the dozens who watched with a face "and now what" I asked, "Sally, I signed, Now what do I do? ". She smiled and said "meet people" and people know I left.
There were two rooms equipped for teachers, in the first, where were the personal folders in which the deemed recruiters and we would ask us messages or appointments, was understandably full of professors who through a stony silence, reviewed papers, books, brochures, looked and looked again, wrote and waited in an almost penitent. "Here no", I thought and I immediately passed to the next. As expected, was nearly empty. Of the eight tables are available, half would be with some people in the same quiet attitude, so focused on their roles as a while ago were colloquial in hallway conversations, did not understand.
I looked around and saw that on the table nearest the door was a single girl, wrote a colorful cards and looking up when he felt my presence, she smiled almost innocent almost true, without showing all his teeth and other dental handing out smiles as he gives them business cards. Her smile was simple and natural, so I reciprocated the gesture and, of course, I sat down. I began to observe others who worked frantically, until Jessica (that was his name as I learned from the laminated cardboard that we all put on the tab) was still in the process of writing something or in some mysterious cards after introduced in an envelope licked the edges with glue gracefully with a slight gesture of disgust and closed his grin remained at the level of the most delicious natural (after I found out that they were cards, one to confirm appointments that had already been done through of the text messages they left on your folder, others to thank "after every interview," "card after talking with each of the recruiters?", "yes, courtesy," "thank you?", "yes, you did not bring yours?" , I looked desolate and understood, "then I'll lend you," he said when we talked for some time and his smile had remained in the range of what must be credible).
Jessica told me she taught music and was searching for a school where we value their work ("For many, art is only a entertainment or a necessary evil to meet the program) and I told him I thought he taught Castilian ("But if I hire to make Swahili in Kathmandu would say yes.) She was laughing heartily with my statement that when the room was invaded by a man in his fifties that he retained a youth arrested in his long ponytail and a graying beard that reminded me that even old hippies Today cross roads in its immense and nostalgic motorcycles. I say "invaded" because, as I had done a while before, came with ease, occupied the space with his presence and gave to copy the ceremonious silence there was necessary. He sat at our table, greeted and welcome (I later learned they had met in line at registration.) What are we talking? Do not talk! was just before two o'clock in the evening and had to settle down there for five hours, so with the impudence of those who know who they are (or suspect with some certainty) we started talking like three friends talking together after a while.
She was a musician by profession, his instrument is the oboe but, as already stated, he works as a teacher (last year there was only one vacancy for an oboist in the country ") to pay for college credit in Lima with which could have been purchased a luxury apartment or study three runs in the best university in the country. waive describe but I will say, for their benefit, that his only fault was a boyfriend who was waiting in another city, forty minutes from Boston and with whom he would marry (marry) in April.
The hippie, hippie was indeed a survivor, studied physics in college and went ten years to research until one day his boss sent him, not know what the exchange program, to teach physics at a secondary school in Tucson and stayed there until retirement newly delivered, which enables him to cincuentaitantos, think to leave to find work in Asia or the Middle East, "to walk, meet and save a little." Marc is called, is frugal, direct, cynical, hate bureaucracy and has the same black humor that Philip, my boss. Is that why we get along so well?
unstoppable The day went without trouble and arrived expected time, we passed, in a huge procession to a very large room where hundreds of chairs awaited us. The first meeting was about to begin ...
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