Step Two: Find a Job

I finally have an excuse as to why I haven’t written sooner.  After pretty much bumming it for the first three weeks or so, I found myself a good, old-fashioned occupation.  100 points to Hayley.  Let’s go back a few steps.

I was walking around alone in the depths of Ikea (twice in one month, you’re kidding me) carrying two folding chairs over my shoulder like a homecoming sash, a big, blue Ikea bag over the other shoulder like a purse, my actual purse, and to top it off, a full-length mirror under the least occupied arm.  This is how badly I did not want to have to make another trip to that place.  I noticed a voicemail pop up on my phone, but no missed call.  I decided the message could probably wait, seeing as I was slightly preoccupied.  I paid for my things and headed to the bus stop, trying to deal with being 3 times as wide as I usually am.  Luckily nobody suffered injuries on my mirror’s account. 

At the bus stop I listened to the message.  Ahhhh yes, the call.  The one I hadn’t actually been waiting for or expecting, but it came nevertheless, right when I needed it to come.  I had successfully and unknowingly convinced a language school in Salzburg that I might be able to teach English for them, especially because they desperately needed to find someone by the end of the week, otherwise they’d lose a major client.  So I came in for an interview the next day and an hour afterward I got a call back and a job offer teaching 22 units per week.  Plus, it’s considered freelance work, so I didn’t have to wait to get a work permit.  The stars aligned.  I would start the following Monday.  We would do an express training to get me through the first two weeks until I could attend an official training weekend.  Did I have a driver’s license?  Had I driven a stick before? WAIT, WHAT? No, no, no I have not really driven a stick before, besides that one time Kevin taught me and I killed it six times in a row at a stop sign and all the people drove around me and laughed.  Oh well, you’ll do fine!  They said.

So that Wednesday I was hired by Educom to teach Business English to employees of Amag Metal Company in Braunau four days a week.  And that Friday I got my second ever manual driving lesson.  And the following Monday I was entrusted with the company car and another employee’s life during the hour long commute to Amag’s offices.  It was at least a nice ice breaker to tell all my students that if they had looked out their window at about 8:30 that morning, they would have seen me struggling to park the car for a good 10 minutes, killing the engine a minimum of eight times. 

Luckily I only have to drive on Mondays and Wednesdays.  Tuesdays and Thursdays I get to go with Gareth, an Australian guy, who drives much better than I.  But poor Pamela sits shotgun on Monday Wednesdays because she doesn’t even know how to drive an automatic.  Sucker.  I think next time we get in the car I will play the song Jesus Take the Wheel and see how she reacts.  Pamela and Gareth are also teachers at Educom and teach at Amag every other day.  We all have separate classes and levels of students. 

It’s boring to explain it all, but I basically teach six classes, ranging from English for Secretaries, to Sales, Project Management, and Quality Assurance.  I’m responsible for making all the lesson plans and deciding what would be most helpful for them to improve their English in the workplace.  I never have more than 4 students in a class, and they’re all really nice, even some cute Austrian guys…

So far, so good.

Last weekend Kevin and I went up on the Gaisberg, which is one of the mountains that surround Salzburg.  There was snow at the top and it was freezing! Yet the sun was shining and the view of the city and valleys below was clear.  Oh Austria, so green. It was nice to get out of the city and enjoy the fresh air.  We hiked around for an hour or two and then retired to the restaurant on top for a beer.  This is the life.  All I need to complete it is a dog. 

Atop the Gaisberg

It was cold!

We met my friend (I HAVE A FRIEND) for a beer that evening at the Augustiener Bräu.  Her name is Sabi and she’s from Munich.  She’s a medical student and likes to watch Grey’s Anatomy and eat pizza.  It’s like we were made for each other.  She lived in Louisiana for a year in high school, so we speak half German and half English so that we can both practice.  I met another girl the other day, too, named Julia, but she was kind of weird and played that instrument from Zelda, so.  I think we will just be casual acquaintances.  She was nice nonetheless. 

After my first real week as a teacher, I had to have my first weekend as a student.  That was this past weekend, otherwise known as “Emma’s Birthday Weekend.”  On Friday evening I had three hours of introduction for the Intercultural Studies program.  We listened to some of the professors talk then drank champagne and had a dinner buffet, where we could get to know all of our colleagues a little better.  There are 25 students in the program and I am the youngest by 6 years.  A few in their late twenties, mostly thirties, and some forties or fifties.  I felt like a little kid, but I am still going to call them my colleagues. 

Happy 13th Birthday Emma!
Last time I was here, she was turning 10!

The first night was okay, I mean, how could it be bad with champagne?  Then came Saturday, the first real lecture.  It lasted from 9 am to 5 pm and by the end of it, I literally still couldn’t tell you what I learned.  Honestly, it was everything I hate about what university is becoming.  A place where you pay money to listen to the other students “teach” class.  There’s some big phenomenon about student-lead discussions and courses going on these days.  The phrase blind leading the blind comes to mind.  It’s like you pay to get into Disneyland and inside you have to build your own rides or ride a rollercoaster built by other Disney-goers.  It’s either going to be realllllly sucky, because nobody knows (read: has been taught) how to build one, or everyone dies.  And that’s how I feel about this Master’s program.  There is no way to know Intercultural Studies.  It is all subjective, a meta subject, you talk about talking about it.  Wrong.  It’s all wrong. 

This picture was of course taken during my walk to class on Saturday morning

Then I had to go sit in a building for 8 hours...

I can’t write further on the topic, because I hate it.

Enjoyable this weekend was a breakfast buffet in the Altstadt, driving to the Lake District and taking the train up the Schafberg and watching people paraglide over the lakes, and going to Hallein to visit with Eva.  Sunday was the best day.  I hope none of my students recognized the fact that I had no lessons planned for today.  Regardless. 

Kevin keeps finding creative ways to buy me a puppy.
I'm just waiting for him to run out of patience.

We went to the Aug for pretzels and beer and Kev's favorite cookies! 

Buffet brunch with Mimosas and the view pictured below....

We took at least six pictures together this weekend, killllllling it. 

St. Wolfgangsee

On top of the Schafsberg

Sat at that little restauraunt with a Knödel and a radler, living the Austrian life

Step One: Move In

I am finally starting to feel like things are going right here in Salzburg.  My poor parents and Emily, who had to deal with all of my drama for the past seven weeks or so.  Seriously.  Every day there was a new crisis.  I can’t even describe the rollercoaster that was Summer 213, but I’m so glad they all had my back and encouraged me, even if they didn’t want me to leave.  That’s the worst part.  Maybe if my support system sucked, then I would have no problem saying goodbye, taking off, and forgetting that a world apart from Austria exists.  Alas, I have the best family in the world, which includes Emily, of course.

This means that saying goodbye at the airport was a bitch and there’s no other descriptive word I can find that better sums up the situation.  I learned that in one of my writing classes filled with Johnston students.  Apparently things haven’t changed since we were all 15, using cusswords still makes you look cool, especially in a college paper.  Dually noted.  So there I was in the bitchy airport with my bitchy suitcases and my bitch-like boarding pass.  I’d been there a thousand times before, but not having a return date amplified reality in a not-so-cool way.  Even my brother had dragged himself out of bed at 5 am and joined my entourage that morning.  Thank god he was there, too.  I’m hugging my parents and Emily, crying, trying to think of anything I can say to make it not seem like I’m moving to a far away land forever, for all of our sake’s, and then there’s Gordon, saying, “Hey, is that leftover pasta in the fridge yours?”  Um, yes.  That’s mine.  “Well, can I have it?”  In light of the current situation….sure, I guess you can have it. Then, I was gone.  Not really that quickly.  Still had to go through security, constantly looking back to watch them all standing there.  And at one point I looked back and they weren’t there anymore.  So obviously I went and stood in line at Starbucks and cried the whole time, giving people a good show. 

Then a hundred hours later (give or take) I was landing in Salzburg.  I come out of the Arrivals section with all my suitcases and look around, tired as ever, and there stood Kevin, with a bouquet of flowers and a smile of relief on his face.  That smile soon faded when he saw all of the baggage I came with.  (Laugh, everyone, I am trying to work on my puns so that Kevin will agree to get me a kitten.  It’s a deal we’ve come up with in the past few years, and I’m not sure he knows it exists.  He hates cats, I hate puns.  Compromise.) He, as Austrian culture instructs, drove us up a mountain for lunch and we had pumpkin soup and beer and pretzels.  He wanted to eat my pretzel because I was eating it too slowly.  It was good to know things hadn’t changed. 

Just as I left it...

Later we got back to my apartment and I finally got to see where I would be living for the next year.  I do have to say: it’s nice.  The building I’m living in is only student apartments, specifically music students (how did I end up here?), and it was all remodeled in 2008.  Wood floors, nice and new appliances, very clean…and the perk, a studio apartment.  No more having to deal with a roommate, though most of mine have been awesome.  The few that haven’t been ruined it for everyone!  Having your own space is pretty nice, regardless.  Another added perk is that my room is two floors above all of the practice rooms for the music students, so when my windows are open, I can hear them practicing all day.  People come from all over the world to study in Mozart’s hometown, so you can bet all of these students are amazing.  Not that I would know the difference.  I could sit by my window and listen all day though, so they must be kind of good.

Moving in still..

Out of my window...mountains in the distance!

Red kitchen! Just in case I spill wine I guess..

My bedroom!

Kevin and I spent all weekend together, which was nice after virtually 9 months apart.  We went to Ikea for some apartment necessities and I laugh looking back on the several times one of us would snap at the other and then we’d kind of look at each other and smile because we both get irritable when in a huge store like that with too many things all around and too many people.  It was nice to depart into fresh air once more.  He helped me unpack all of my things and get settled into my apartment, which was important for me to feel like it was home, not just a room I was staying in.  Slowly the reality sank in that I was there to stay.

Pizza picnic on Kevin's bedroom floor

On Sunday evening I got to meet Eva, who was a director of the Salzburg Program when Kevin was a student.  Jim and Eva, Jim and Eva—that’s all I heard about when I was on campus in Redlands as a freshman and someone was talking about Salzburg.  I did have the pleasure of meeting Jim last April, but this was the first time I was able to meet the much-adored Eva.  She was in town giving a lecture to the students on Monday, but we had a little welcome dinner on Sunday night which included Kevin, Eva, Bill and Carolyn (current directors), and Colette (current program assistant).  We had dinner at Salzburg’s esteemed brewery, the Stieglbräu.  It was nice spending time with them all and getting to know Kevin’s co-workers a little more.  They have definitely been very welcoming to me since I’ve been here, which I appreciate.  And Eva was quite the firecracker, which I can definitely appreciate. 

Two nights later I was invited to take part in the Italian dinner that was meant to send off the Salzburg group on their 10-day trip through Italy.  I can’t tell you how strange it was to be on the other side of the whole thing.  Three years ago I was a student in their shoes, blissfully excited about all the new experiences, people, places.  And then there I was, sitting at the teacher’s table at dinner and wondering how in the hell I even got back here.  There were many Italian wines to taste, all sorts of strange, “cultural” foods, including octopus and rabbit! I tried a small bite of each, but mostly stuck with the wine.  I mean pasta.  And after the very traditional 4 course Italian meal, someone turned on the music, and all of the students started dancing and having a good time, as if they didn’t have to leave at 6 am the next morning for Florence and as if they’d already all packed.  The best part is that Kevin can’t stop his dancing feet.  He just can’t.  So I got the pleasure of seeing all the students faces as they cracked up at him and then immediately turned to see what my reaction to his behavior was…what do you think drew me in, ladies? “How do you deal with that all the time?” I was asked.  You don’t.  You just let it happen and hope nothing ends up broken. 

I will never tire of this

I feel a little in limbo right now because I don’t have much to do.  My first full week was full of rushing around, setting up a bank account, figuring out things at the university, trying to figure out how to legally get a job, etc.  But now I have it all figured out and I can’t do much more until I’m an official student and resident, which won’t happen for another two weeks or so.  For those of you who don’t know (understandable because my plan changed so many times) (that damn rollercoaster) I am beginning a Master’s program on October 18^th in Intercultural Studies.  It’s kind of like a continuing studies program because we have 14 block classes throughout the year. They are one or two weekends per month on a Friday night and all day Saturday.  There will be 25 students in my program, no idea about ages, nationalities, etc.  But hopefully they don’t suck.  That’s all I can say.  Two of the weekends will even be in English, so there will be a small reprieve for me.  The rest of the classes will be in German.  I think my German skills are about to get rocked.

It has been a slow two weeks getting back into it, but it’s definitely coming back and the Austrian accent is getting easier to understand day by day.  At first it just sounds like a bunch of gobble-dee-gook, as my parents might say, but then it sinks in and I can respond within a normal amount of time, without seeming slow.  I give it a month or two before I’m better than ever. That’s exciting.

I’m currently finishing a book I started before I left home, and I hate it. I thought I would like it, as it was recommended by a good friend, but it seriously sucks.  I don’t know why I’m still reading it, I want to quit, but I can’t.  I just feel like it has to get better at some point and like something in the end is going to make me realize it was great all along (not likely), but until I finish it, I can’t start reading any other books in German, which is what I’d rather be doing to prepare for the semester/my life.  Have any of you read the book about the 100-year-old man who jumps out of his window etc. etc.?  You’ll be happier if you don’t.  Anyway, I have to go finish it.  Terrible book.