The joys of interviewing

"Tell us about yourself."

What a heavy question.

Where to begin?

Well... waaaaaaay back in 1987, a stubborn, blond little lady was born in Tucson, AZ to a father just out of medical school and mother who doubled as a special education teacher.

Hah.

There is definitely an art to interviewing. Think about it ... if we treat each interview question as an exponential equation, the response given by the interviewee then guides the interview into unforseen territory. When someone asks (or more like states), "Tell me about yourself.", one can go in many different directions. The gist is the same but depending on where you begin and where you end, the entire direction of the interview goes down a different camino (path).

For example, I had an interview last Thursday at a wonderful public relations agency in downtown Seattle. They began with the loaded question. Amongst the verbal spewage that was my answer, I mentioned that I work with a rescue horse organization as a way of giving back. We then had a several minute conversation about animals because two of the three interviewers had either worked at a veterinary clinic, trained guide dogs or showed Quarter Horses.

And in a way -- that's the beauty of an interview.

There is no guide. No format. There's preparation -- yes. An interview is a two-way conversation and just like in normal turns of conversation, can go down surprising and unexpected paths.

I have my second interview today. This time a phone interview. I'm open and ready for the art of beautiful conversation.

And by the way, Korea is a no-go. Sorry but I was just gone for a year. I'm ready to be home. Meeting someone wonderful might have helped :) Details to come.
(PHOTO credit: image one - http://www.international-job-search.com/interview%20reduced.jpg.)

Part Dos in South Korea?!

'Tis the season!

Jingle Bells.

And all that jazz...

Which means, I haven't gotten done nearly as much as I would have liked.

I've applied to two jobs since I've been home and have been reaching out to my contacts. And perhaps, incidentally, I might have landed another teaching job -- this time in South Korea. I was browsing online job postings on Seattle's craigslist when I happened upon an ad for teaching positions. I sent an e-mail laden with questions and received a response within minutes. Without necessarily intending to, this whole pursuit is being propelled forward at break-neck speed.

And you know what? At this point in my life, I can go abroad again. If I'm gone for a year, I'll be just 23 1/2 when I get back. Man, I'm young. I don't feel that young! I'm fortunate enough to have done my fair share of traveling throughout my short life.

I've been to Africa. The Middle East. South America. Europe. But .. the area I haven't been to is Asia. Well, I might just have my chance.

How would I feel about leaving home so soon after getting back?

Alright.

Home is wonderful. Home will always be here for me. Somehow whenever I'm home, I always feel like there is something out there waiting for me in the world and that I'm not going to find it at home. It might be because I'm sitting idle here until I find a job. (And by idle -- I don't mean on my butt -- but literally that I don't have a job).

So, part dos (two) of Bakan might just be recounting tales and adventures from the far side of the world. Are you game?

I am.

en route

Part dos (two) of Bakan is really an experiment more than anything.

I'm back from Chile, nestled safely into the comforting cocoon of love amongst family and friends. And I'm now in transit...

...to the next big thing.

Your guess is as good as mine.

I've applied to several jobs; some that I'm actually excited about.

My real true passion is facilitating abroad experiences for other people. My time abroad has proffered some of the most fundamental turning points in my life and I would live a happy one allowing other people to take part in something so grand. I've applied to a two relevant jobs and am now eagerly waiting to hear.

But you know one of the worst parts about a job search?

You aren't even told if you aren't worthy of an interview. Instead your application is lost to a shredder's greedy jaws; leaving you to forever wonder if your application was even received.

Que mala onda (How uncool).

So here you have it.

Welcome to my job search.

I don't know if you will read. I don't know if you will care. But for all those of you who shared in my Chilean experience last year, I thank you for reading. And being interested enough to read.

This is part dos (two).

A forward look back

Time trickles by, as if falling drop by drop from the smooth curve of an hourglass’ middle. Before it seems possible, there remains just a hint – time, sand, what you may – that must be stretched out; squeezed to surmount to all that was imagined.

Much like my last month in Santiago.

Looking back ten months to the anticipation, the questions and wonders and the excitement now provide answers.

What would become of this year-long journey?

Happiness, pain, romance, exhilaration, education…

A deep sense of satisfaction and gratitude. Because more than anything, embarking and completing a journey such as this proves that one can start with nothing more than dreams and hopes and end up with a rich, fulfilling life.

True that it will never turn out as expected and maybe even desired. But that’s the fun of it all – the most significant and potentially life-altering part.

My naïve and forever hopeless romantic side wanted and maybe even expected to fall madly, deeply in love with a Latin man. A year living in another country should yield something of the nature, shouldn’t it?

Alas, this didn’t come to be.

But what did come to be was a deep respect and growing knowledge of the person I am and am coming to be.

Boarding a plane alone and shuttling across a continent to embark upon a new life full of unknowns is not something I would have necessarily imagined for myself several years past. There’s a lot of faith that goes into a decision like that.

What if I don’t find friends? What if I can’t communicate with anyone due to language barriers? What if I’m not happy? What happens next … ?

But with a deep breath and a strong-rooted sense of faith in the simplicity of life as it should be, anything is possible.

I now know that I truly can do anything I want to. Anything. I am capable and have the world as I dream it in my hands.

While my dream now is torn in two – as I’m extremely tempted to stay longer in Chile – I know that whatever comes to be is as it should. My bank account dictates my next move (although I do realize that if I truly wanted to stay in Chile, I’d find a way).

What will come next? Hard to say.

One thing I can say for sure – dust will not be settling under my feet.

Se viene, se viene...

Se viene, se viene ...

What's coming, you may ask?

Everything, my friends, everything.

Life and everything in between.

First of all, my parents - beginning with my mom - are coming in just a week and a half. Second, I'm coming home. In December.

The queen of indecision has done it again!

No, I'm not going to Buenos Aires after my Santiago stint. I could play dumb and say it's because I have no money (that wouldn't be far from the truth) but really - I'm ready. Ready to come home.

My mind is already beginning to split time between thinking about my life here in Chile and daydreaming about being home and surrounded by all my loved ones... certainly not what should be happening but understandable a la vez (at the same time).

Hoever; this incredible phenomenon is in no way, shape, or form going to hinder my remaining time. I am here to enjoy; to breath in the fresh Santiago spring air; to laugh; to dance; to live.

VIVA CHILE

Just another example of American culture gone awry:

Conversation groups at IOM are often an opportunity to shout out whatever phrases the students know; often gleaned from American popular culture.

Last Thursday afternoon, Alejandra (IOM’s high-school English teacher) walked into the sala de ingles and Alejandro (a sophomore) shouted, “What’s up nig*er??”

I immediately went over and firmly told him that nig*er is not a word one uses in their daily, monthly or yearly vocabulary.

Alejandro responded by saying, “But I hear it in my music all the time.”

He didn't have the context or background knowledge to know better. It makes me wonder how many other extranjeros have listened to rap songs and taken what they hear at face value...


Futbol (soccer) in South America is a religion. An addictive religion at that. Saturday night brought on the World Cup qualifying match for Chile. They took on and conquered Colombia 4-2.

Our friends Trish, Ben and Melissa live in Plaza Italia, which is at the heart of Santiago and the central meeting point for all post-victory futbol celebrations. We're talking thousands of people, enough to shut down traffic in all four directions as well as bring police in full riot gear to the scene.

After Chile sealed the deal, we took to Plaza Italia to join Chilean masses in singing, dancing, shouting, jumping and all 'round chaos. Not ten minutes after we became part of the hoard did we happen upon a reporter and his camera man. He was surrounded by a crowd of excitable, screaming futbol fans. As soon as he noticed me (perhaps because I am a gringa), he wheeled around on his heels and thrust the microphone in my face. After a momentary second of confusion (probably apparent in my face), I shouted, "Woooo! VIVA CHILE!"

I thought nothing more of the experience until I received a call about ten minutes later from a fellow profe de ingles at IOM, Fransisco, excitedly telling me he had just seen me on Mega, a Chilean television channel.

The night went on. We made new friends. Laughed a lot. The fun really began, however; when we left the plaza and went to Trish's first floor balcony that overlooks the plaza. Each time a group of guys went by, we started cheering. They would all look up in surprise, notice a group of young, fresh ladies and drop likes flies. We probably re-enacted Romeo and Juliet at least 100 times. I received hundreds of air kisses. And because we were a balcony up, I felt free to tease those boys as much as I pleased. A no-risk situation. It was quite hilarious.

At one point, a young man with a steel drum and attached symbol started playing in honor of us while his friends danced around. A crowd of about 40 gathered to watch and join in while we waved and alluringly beckoned to the group below.

Monday was a holiday here so we reveled in a three-day weekend. Today, Tuesday, I heard from probably a hundred different students that they saw me on TV. A group of about 15 sixth graders went running up to me exclaiming, "Miss!! (pronounced 'Meeee-s') You're famous!!"

Too funny. I told Alejandra about it and she said, "Ohhhh. What a gringa thing to say!"

VIVA CHILE!!!!

Salado

Salty in Spanish is "salado".

When my students ask if something is salty or state their food preferences, they say, "I like salad foods." or "Is that salad?"

It´s too precious.


Guess what Stephanie and I are up to today?

RODEO. REAL CHILEAN RODEO.

En serio. We are actually taking part in the real deal. I never thought the day would come and never even had an interest in taking part in something so... savage. But, alas the opportunity has presented itself after several months of rodeo lessons. And I want to try everything once. So... here we go.

Not to mention, Chilean rodeo actually is a lot less brutal than rodeo in other countries. The cows aren´t tied up and dragged by their hind-legs with rope. They don´t fight till their death nor till they are fatally injured.

Instead they are herded around a medialuna (Chilean arena) by two riders and strategically pushed into a bumper. The riders earn points depending on where the cow makes contact with the padded barrier.

Fin de semana!
This weekend we are headed to Lago Rapel. It´s Alessandra (from Brazil) and Omar (from Mexico)´s birthdays and we are celebrating by renting a house on a lake about an hour from Santiago. The weather is finally tranforming from winter to summer (there is no fall nor spring in Chile) and we are ready to enjoy it outside. The house supposedly has a pool and volleyball net. I predict bathing suits, BBQs, laughter and fun in the sun.

There is also a costume party on Saturday night. Anyone famous. My clan is dressing up as characters from the boardgame Clue. Do I want to be Miss Scarlet? Or perharps Colonel Mustard? Ohhh the possibilities...

All in all ... it looks to be a good weekend. I hope yours is the same.