Current stress level: Imminent Travel

(This is basically DefCon 1.)

NOW HIRING: trendy white girls

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Last year, I was hunting for a job with better pay. In a random "might as well" moment, I submitted my resume at a local, independently owned clothing boutique. It wasn't optimal, but might be a small step up until I found The Dream Job. Surprisingly, I got called in for an interview!

During the chat with the owner, she asked me countless questions about my background in fashion and experience with making my own clothes. I thought this odd, since the boutique sells clothing brought in from LA—nothing there is handmade. Nevertheless, I described to her the types of clothing I have made before. After about 15 minutes, I was sent on my way. Would my years of customer service and sales experience get me the job? The answer was prompt. That evening, they called to let me know they were "moving forward with other candidates".

I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Honestly, it put a dent in my confidence about the skills on my resume. With my degree, experience, and flawless track record of work ethic, I should be able to get an entry level job anywhere, right? Especially in rural podunk town. Right??? Questions swirled in my mind for weeks after that. Is my college degree worth nothing? Do I look like someone who isn't even good enough to deliver pizza? With no reason given as to why they rejected me, my imagination was free to attack my self confidence with all sorts of made-up explanations.

Then one day out of boredom and curiosity, I followed that boutique on social media. In their latest post, their sales girls were modeling their new fall items in true Christian Girl Autumn style, tossing their ballayage hair.

A month later, a video showed the sales girls strutting down a brick-lined back alley in puffy winter coats and knee-high boots, Instagram airbrush makeup impervious to the snowfall.

In April, they started advertising their summer vacation outfits, the sales girls smashing cowboy hats down on their Beachy Waves while kicking up their matching cowboy ankle boots. (Gag)

I realized that I didn't get hired because my resume was lacking or my customer service was any less than top notch. It's most likely that I didn't get hired because I am not curvy, blond, makeup-caked, Instagram-trendy, basic "GOALZ". What they wanted was basic white girl models who would say "GURRL SLAYYY" to customers exiting the fitting rooms and could be trained to use a cash register. (But they can't come out and say that obviously, because equal opportunity laws.) They know that nothing would appeal to their basic white girl customers like other basic white girls. That's how cookie cutters and clones are—they all drool over each other as "GOALS" to a point where they all end up looking identical. Also, the boutique didn't actually want someone who could make clothes. I could be misjudging, but the girls working there look like they can't sew a stitch and are too hung up on fast fashion to ever be interested in learning.

I had to remind myself that, from the start, this wasn't a job to be taken too seriously. Going into it, I had only considered it as a stepping stone job. I chided myself for letting the rejection get to me like it did.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't a rant to play victim and get people to feel sorry for me. I wanted to share one of my personal experiences in job hunting to help other non-basic girls be aware of unspoken standards that exist at some businesses. Don't let them shake your confidence in yourself and your skills. If they adhere so closely to cookie cutter Instagram girl protocols, then you are better off not working there. Go find a job somewhere that will appreciate and exercise your skills and talent.

Maybe it's just me, but I would rather be valued for what I am capable of accomplishing than how closely I match the basic white girl mold.

Day 37 - Panajachel to San Juan La Laguna, Guatemala

My hardest day to write

1. Despite switching my brain off early I had a rubbish sleep the night before. Barely getting any shut eye. Given I was up at 6.30 by 7 I decided to go for a walk. Pana is small and I quickly covered a lot of ground. It was nice walking with less people around. Although sadly there were way less stalls at this time. I was craving some fruit but nowhere I went could I fine any. Finally I was in a small shop which didn't have fruit but did have a grocery section. As I looked I spotted baby food. Figuring pureed mango and apple was more nutritious than a bag of doritos I opted for that. Quite smart of me I thought, baby food must be semi reasonable.

2. Back at the hostel others were getting up and keen for breakfast. We opted for a womans restaurant which is owned and operated only by females. A big deal in Guatemala.

3. A boat ride to San Juan. Tonight we are staying on the lake again but this time at a homestay. The lake, similar to Antigua is beautifully flat with all the volcanoes surrounding it. The boat ride was relatively chill. The boat being less fancy than maybe ones I'm used to was a a bit noisy. Three quarters of the way through we slowed down and stopped. Not sure what was happening - turns out we'd run out of petrol! There we were floating away until another boat bought over a petrol tank. Given they drive the lake so often, you would think they'd check theu have enough gas to get anywhere before leaving. Anyway eventually made it safe and sound!

4. On arrival we met our homestays and went to their homes to drop off our things. I'll come everything off related to this at point 5. Once without our gear we went into town to visit the different creatives and ways of life at San Juan La Laguna. These were a honey farm, a chocolate workshop, a church, a textiles spot, an artist's and finally a medicine farm. At each the workers told us about what they did there. It was nice and interesting although I probably didn't come across like I was enjoying it. After no sleep the night before I was dead. Everytime we sat down I was nodding off. Oops, but I also knew I needed to be awake with the family so half attention was all I could give.

5. Ok to the family. So when we first arrived a member of each family was waiting. We wrote our names next to a name on a piece of paper and this determined where we'd stay. We walked with our homestay mum to her home. It is something so different to what we consider a house back in NZ. On arrival there is a front room with a wee store. This is selling odds and ends and snacks. It has a door on the alley way as well as into the yard. We walk in through to the yard. The yard is small and oblong shape. Grass on the right with a few trees growing and sticks/twigs piled up indicating they'll be used for fires. On the right side there are two rooms. Both square one with two single beds (where we will be staying) and their bedroom which I couldn't see inside. She has two children, Mildred who is 13 and a two year old son. She is married but quickly learned her husband works in Guatemala City and is only home twice a month. The kitchen is outside and consists of a brick over (this uses the sticks for cooking/fire). The back wall from their bedroom is on one side and pots and pans hang on this. The tin roof extends over this area with tarpaulins covering two other 'walls', the rest remaining open. There is a toilet and shower. Each is a square about 1m x 1m with three concrete walls (one splits the two rooms), there is a draped sheet offered as a door. The daughter sleeps down the road at her aunts. was lucky to be staying with another girl who spoke Spanish so she would chat and translate for me. The family we were staying with was really poor. The father earns 40Q a day (8NZD) for 8 hours work and he cant be with the family. They have been hosting people for 4 months and it's how they put food on the table. The woman handmakes scarves to be sold at markets. The one she was doing when we were there would take 3 days and would be sold for 125Q (25NZD). She also put the shop in the front room. Despite this tough life she and the children were so happy. Before dinner Synovve spent alot of time speaking to her and I played with the kids. Mildred could speak a minor amount of English so between her English and my minimal Spanish we got by. The little boy was very easy to keep happy and we played kicks and other games with toys (some of which were in a fairly dire state.

The woman talked about how she wanted to move to the USA but her husband does not. To go there you need to walk for 1-2 months. Given it's illegal you would pay someone who knows how to cross the border 100,000 Q per person. Noting how much they earn gathering this as cash is near impossible. Instead you put a mortagage on your home. Then you hope it all goes to plan, when you arrive in the USA you have nothing but then if you don't and go back to Guatemala you also have nothing. It's not nice to think of the other options here. We helped with dinner prep, I was rubbish at making tortillas and so stopped after dropping the batter while I made one. Don't want to waste anything here! We noticed there wasn't much food originally thinking they must have already eaten. Sadly that was not the case! When she plated up she served us 3x more than what they served for themselves. Our food was on what I'd consider a dinner plate and theres was on a wee bread plate. I felt sick. I decided best not to eat all on my plate as likely they take leftovers for the next meal. I didn't like the thought of me eating more than them. Also they had 3 plates served, turns out this was one of the nights of the year that dad came home. It was a long weekend hence he was back. After dinner we were asked if we wanted to go to bed. We agreed realizing they would want to all catch up as a family. Before hitting the hay we did do the dishes. Once in our room the beds didn't have sheets on them but rather fleece blankets. On the corner of one a World Vision badge was sewed in. How different to be where the world vision donations are made rather than where the funds are collected.

Just brings home how lucky we are to even just be from NZ / a fully developed country.

Tally:

Minimum wage in NZ: 17.70NZD

Living hourly wage in NZ: 21.15NZD

Minimum hourly wage Guatemala: 2.80NZD

Hourly wage the father was getting: 1.08NZD

< Q amount translated to NZD based on FX at time of writing. Hard to find a minimum wage for Guatemala by hours but websites I was indicted 2,500 Q a month so just averaged that on 4.5 weeks and a 40 hour week. The wage the father told me is less than 'minimum wage'. He said it was hard to find work and because there can be some corruption, I beleive he was true in his daily rate (which I took down to hours). It could've been post tax.

NZ living wage taken from https://www.livingwage.org.nz/about

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