Home sweet home

Are you OK?

The organisation I work for hosts a volunteer worker from a European country every year. The successful applicant comes to work with us through a one-year exchange programme. We contribute to his/her food, lodging and living expenses. In return s/he supports our projects and develop his/her own skills. Though they do not get paid, we have the same expectations of them as we do of full-time employees.

We have had a number of volunteers over the years and things did not always end nicely. The organisation is so flexible in so many ways that an entry-level employee may feel overwhelmed. For a start, there is little hand-holding. Many of the senior staff are too busy running around, attending meetings and getting their own work done, they can’t always be in the office to delegate and supervise work. So, it’s up to you to find work to do. Working hours are quite flexible and if you see a need to go or be based somewhere else, you don’t need to come into the office, but you have to be accountable for where you are.

After encountering problems with the previous volunteer, who felt she wasn’t supported enough during the time she was with us, my boss decided to put in place a mentor. This is not the line manager but someone who can listen to and support the volunteer to make sure s/he doesn’t feel left in the lurk.

Because I was the only one always so “kaypoh” enough to ask what was wrong whenever the previous volunteer left meetings in a huff and typed away angrily at her desk, I have been assigned to look after the new girl who arrive a few months ago. So I chat to her frequently to find out how she is adjusting to living in a new country, sharing a house with new people and working in a new organisation.

To be honest, I kinda enjoy this new role. I guess I do it because I have never really had a mentor to guide me and I know how tough it can be when you are young, inexperienced and scared. Sometimes you feel so small and alone when others zoom about in the office and nobody even notices you are there. Sometimes you have had a really shit day and just wish someone would stop shuffling their stupid papers, look up at you and ask, “Are you OK?”

I will always remember that at the end of my first day at work in the College, I was so overwhelmed I sat at my desk and sobbed. Later, I walked past a colleague who noticed I looked so distressed. She patted me on the shoulder and gave me an Almond Gold chocolate bar on her desk. I returned to my cubicle and ate the chocolate. It was the most delicious chocolate I had ever tasted.

So that’s what I have endeavoured to become. Ms “Are you OK?”. The one who passes the tissue to someone crying their heart out. The one who gives someone a chocolate bar when their paperwork looks a bit like Mount Everest and I can no longer see their face. The one who feels genuinely happy for someone when s/he learns something new or makes an achievement, instead of worrying s/he may soon be skilled enough to take over me.

I have learnt never to underestimate the power of those three little words and when uttered, how comforting or even thought-provoking it can be for someone. I have learnt we should for a few moments in our work day, stop worrying about our work, our life, our fats, our hair, our deadlines, our teeth, our targets. I have learnt to actually take a break and look around at the people I spend 35 hours a week in work with, and when need be, hand them a Kit-Kat and ask, “Are you OK?”

Hello, can I help you?

We are currently hiring people so today I picked up a call from a guy who wanted to know if his application has come in the post.

Me: What’s the name please?

Applicant: Surname is Smith.

Me: Hold on, let me check.

(After a few seconds)

Me: Sorry, I just checked with the HR coordinator and we haven’t received your application.

Applicant: I posted it earlier this week. I printed it off and filled it in by hand and sent it off.

Me: I’m sorry but we haven’t received it. Could you fill it in again and email it to us? The closing date is tomorrow.

Applicant: (Sighs loudly and sounding frustrated) Where can I get another copy of it?

Me: You can download it from our website.

(Spent a few minutes guiding him through the website)

Me: Alright?

Applicant: NO!

Me: You can’t find the information?

Applicant: IT’S NOT THAT! It’s the fact I have to do it all over again!

Me: Well look I’m sorry but I don’t run the postal service and I’m sorry it never got to us. But there is nothing I can do.

Applicant: I know, it’s not your fault but YOUR APPLICATION FORM IS SO LONG. Did you KNOW that?!

Me: Yes of course I do, I had to fill one in myself when I applied for this job.

Applicant: YEAH BUT YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO DO IT TWICE!!!!!

Me: The only thing I can suggest is you fill it in again and send it to us by midday tomorrow. That’s up to you whether you want to or not.

Applicant: Yeah alright, thank you.

Me: You’re welcome.

———————————–

Honestly if this was how you talk to your prospective employer, you may as well not bother about filling in the application form. His attitude stinks, he is rude, he doesn’t really want the job, he has TERRIBLE telephone etiquette and here comes the punchline.

He was actually applying to man a telephone helpline for youngsters.

Forget it, mate.

My first wave

Competition: The Name Game

If you have been reading me here or at Bun in the Oven, you would know that I am now four months pregnant. Naturally we have been thinking about baby names but R and I are having trouble deciding on something we both like. Whenever a name comes up we would go, “It’s too poser”, “With that name s/he is going get made fun of”, “That doesn’t sound right” etc etc.

So we think perhaps it would be a good idea to open it the floor for suggestions! At this point in time we don’t know if we are having a boy or a girl, so feel free to submit names for either genders. Interesting but not poser or tacky names are preferred, and it would be a real bonus if your suggested names could reflect our heritages. Oh and it’s important that it sounds nice with R’s surname, Hope.

We’ll be offering a surprise gift for the best suggestion, so keep those entries coming! Have fun!

Conversation with R #5

R, where is my glass of apple juice? You said you’ll get it for me ages ago.

(Goes to fridge and pours juice in glass)

You always take so long to do something!

(Brings glass into living room) Apologies for the delay. And I’m sorry pregnancy has robbed you of the use of your lower limbs.

#$%#@$#!&*!

Terrible gut feeling

I had such a frightening night.

At 00:45, I woke suddenly with a sharp pain in my stomach, right underneath my breast bone. It came about strongly and suddenly and I immediately sat up from the bed, thinking it would go away. It didn’t and the pain was acute and persistent.

I clutched my stomach and tried to breathe. My brows were locked and I was in misery. I sat there for a few minutes wondering what was wrong. I didn’t feel like burping, my stomach wasn’t rumbling, I didn’t have the urge to go to the toilet. I am used to getting gastric discomfort which is usually a dull ache easily soothed by a tummy rub. I have never had anything so severe that “desperate” was the only feeling I had.

Out of fear and desperation, I woke R even though he had to be up at 5am to go to work. “I’m in terrible pain.” He got me some Gaviscon, which is a liquid medicine for heartburn and indigestion.

I started to break out in sweat and could only take short shallow breaths because of the pain. My cheeks were flushed and I could barely speak. “Shall I rub your tummy?” R asked. I said no, I felt like vomitting and my stomach was so tender to touch. I couldn’t lie down and I couldn’t stand up, so I just sat on the edge of the bed, clutching my stomach, crying out in pain.

R asked if I wanted to go to the hospital but I said no, hoping it would pass. R suspected it could be trapped wind so he went downstairs to make me a cup of strong peppermint tea with two teabags and honey. I drank it down and the pain got worse. Then the belching started and I slowly felt better.

I soon felt well enough to lay my head on pillows propped against the headboard and my pulse stopping racing. And then as suddenly as it came, the pain subsided and I got back into bed. At that point I just thought I was so lucky that R wasn’t on night shifts and I was on my own. The terrifying pain had completely consumed me and I wouldn’t have known what to do.

“Sorry for waking you,” I apologised to R. “It’s OK, I couldn’t sleep anyway.” he said. I turned the lights out and moments later I heard him snoring.

Neighhhhh! Here’s your shopping, Madam.

The groceries I ordered online will be delivered by the supermarket’s van tomorrow but how I wish they came in this lovely Harrods horse-drawn cart instead! I could then give the hardworking horses an apple each. Via Tommy.

Guess what came in the post?

My Beatrix Potter Complete Tales!

Hard cover and glossy pages!

My favourite story so far is The Tale of Benjamin Bunny.

How to build a snowman

First, get the husband to do the hard work – roll the snow into a massive ball for the snowman’s body.

Then I rolled a smaller snowball and put it on top to make a head. We used red onions for eyes and a banana for its mouth. And wrapped it warm with my scarf.

In the end I think it looks more like a penguin.

Still, it’s not everyday we get to build a snowman so we must strike a pose with it. And then take our frozen fruit and vegetable indoors.