The Ballad of EI

It was to be expected, I suppose.

One can't just flit off to a foreign country, regardless of how "educated" and "open-minded" you like to think you are, and not run into the occasional conflict of cultures.

Perhaps I was expecting it to be limited to differences in the definition of "edible" or some other charming, fascinating little piece of trivia to blog joyfully about. "It's true! In Canada, "nigger" is a TERRIBLE word!" and so on.

So here I am in this job, where I work helping Canadian companies sell industrial knives and modems in Mexico. It is... well, it's a job. It's not what I went to school for and nary a voice has issued from the depths of my soul to exclaim, "Mining?! WOW!!" but the boss is lovely and steady paycheques are great. And, besides, it's a Real Job, an adult job, a job with Future Opportunities Abounding.

But lately I have been fighting an encroaching wave of discontent, mainly inspired by promises made but never realized. Raises not awarded. Help with the costs of computer maintenance not manifested. Travel perks not booked. Et cetera.

The fact I don't enjoy my job much isn't helping.

And, dearhearts, I am not coping. Day by day, I can feel my little heart shrivel up a little more at the thought of another day in that awkward brown chair. Any loyalty I might have had for such ruthlessly logical concepts as career paths and doors opening has faded to a dull-grey "meh, what a boring, horrible job."

All of this, I have decided - the promises and my reaction to them - is the result of opposing cultures coming into contact with disastrous results.

Firstly, the promises? Very Mexican. VERY Mexican.

Mexicans are a proud, non-confrontational people who will tell you what you want to hear in order to make you happy. It is an entirely non-malicious impulse on their part - I wasn't promised a raise to make me work weekends - I'm sure, down deep, they really wish they could do all they promise to do. Still, when dealing with Canadian companies, we have to very carefully explain to them that a "yes" from a potential Mexican buyer does not mean "yes," nor does it mean "maybe" or "no." It simply means "I want to make you happy!"

So when G says to me, "We won the contract! Bonuses for everyone!", I have absolutely not doubt she is, at that moment, actually thinking "Bonuses for everyone!" But whether those promised bonuses are silenced by financial realities or simply forgotten about, you will never hear about them again.

Now, you would think that, knowing this, I would be in good stead to withstand the dance of hope and rejection, but oh no, no no, I am far too Canadian for that.

Allow me to digress for a moment...

I am asked all the time if there is a difference between Canadians and Americans, as, as far as the average Mexican can tell, it all boils down to weather. After spending several months all haughty and suitably "don't insult me!", I finally came up with the following:

Americans are defined by the concept of "The American Dream": the belief that the poor boat-weary immigrant from Latvia with $3 in his pocket can, with an idea and a lot of hard work, become king. They dream big and think big and talk big, but it's all based on the idea that you must be unique, devoted and willing to work your tail off. Anyone who isn't king is a failure.

Canadians, in contrast, don't aim nearly as high or work nearly as hard. We are defined by our laws and cultural mores, believing that, if we work our 9 to 5 and pay our taxes and drive within the speed limit, everything will work out. And when our 9 to 5 doesn't pay us enough to survive, we get a bit indignant. A bit - dare I say it? - entitled. We march to our loyal leaders with our palms out, pleading "I tried but it didn't work", and they, in turn, cut us a cheque.

So here I am, in a foreign culture, in a job that takes up 55+ hours a week of my time and pays me $800 a month, and the screaming albatrosses of debt are not being silenced. I can rationalize like mad, pointing to Mexican minimum wages ($5 a day) and poverty lines ($150 a month) and the cost of living here (20 cents for the Metro), but on some deep, unavoidable, inherent level I am wondering why I don't have enough to make my student loan payments. Isn't this a full time job? Isn't it skilled labour? Am I not going to work every day?

...Then WHY isn't it working?

...It SHOULD be working.

A student of mine told me that, when a Mexican isn't earning enough money, he or she will make sandwiches and sell them to co-workers for a little extra money.

Canadian friends and family - be honest with me: if your employer wasn't paying you enough to survive, would you:

a) quit and look for something better paying?
b) ask the boss for a raise based on the integral role you play in the effective operation of the company?
c) spend your lunch hours peddling gum on the street for 50 cents a package?

Part of this is evidence of just how dire the employment situation is in Mexico: you can't risk losing your job because you never know if you'll be able to find another.

I, however, don't have that problem; if I can't find another job, I'll go home.

But I also do think part of this is that Canadian entitlement rearing up in me because Real Job means Real Money, damn it, and I simply won't accept anything less.

(As an aside, I do believe I would work for peanuts if I loved my job and believed that I was being paid fairly according to their ability to pay me. In this case, however, neither is true.)

So I've advised my boss that I will be leaving in a month or so. I haven't yet decided where - whether to another job here, to Korea to teach and pay off my debts once and for all, or back home - but I do know that I will not be able to reconcile the Mexican idea of work and my own idea of work, and so it is time for me to bid adios to the laserdisks and air compressors once and for all.

I admire and weep for the Mexicans when it comes to work ethic. They do put us to shame, in such an unenviable way...