The Great Trek
Wenchy ( http://www.freewebs.com/nocturalwenchy/wenchysblog.htm ) had asked me how I came to the States. Funny when people here ask me what brought me to America I always answer Stupidity. There are times when I am so amazed by what it is I did and endured and what on earth possessed me to stick it out and not pack up my bags and head for home.
I guess to answer that I have to look at my folks, failure was not an option, there just had to be another way to do it. When I was 23 I had the world by balls, I was working for a huge real estate company, I was a big shot freelance marketing agent, aka varsity drop out aka talk the talk and made everyone else believe I could walk the walk big shot pisher known to man. Arogance was my calling card and I dealt it with style, riding around Jo'burg in my spiffy BMW 318i coupe, making HUGE amounts of money every month. I used to call my dad at the end of the month and we would laugh at how much money I was being paid to shop. It was great. At that time there was a state of emergency in South Africa, the year being 1992/1993, Mandela was still etching notches into a wall on Robben Island. One fine day I was driving around Kempton Park, having just dropped two varsity (university) students to hand out flyers. This was pre-cellphones, although Ms. Spiffy aka me had a pager (sheesh I was such a wanker in those days - I thought I was so cool). I was driving around listening to 702 (because I was also a pseudo intellectual sort) and the Pan African Congress was on the radio, saying how for every settler they had one bullet (for those not in the know, the PAC was the extreme left wing political party and the settlers were white folks like moi). Here I was driving around Kempton Park, watching armoured vehicles drive around, having droped off two kids who may not make it back alive, and I felt so friggin' uneasy, guilty and just plain scared. The climate at the time was people were talking about where they were going to emmigrate to but most of my friends had not done it yet. I was 23 going on 50. That evening I represented my company at a Boksburg town council meeting, to try get some zoning changed. Short skirt - and who knows what could happen, I really had awesome legs in those days (lol). Here the extreme right wing was talking about how each of them belonged to a coalition where each person had 50,000 rounds of ammo and they were going to shoot every black person they saw the minute Mandela was released. It was a 20 minute drive from Boksburg to my flat in Killarney. I was so serious in those days, my mind was set on one thing and one thing only, making money and building my company into something big, successful and oh so lucrative. Not a thought of kids, relationships or anything of that sort. I was not known for rash or thoughtless decisions, more of the calculated, well thought out sort. In those 20 minutes I made a decision that would literally change the course of my life forever. I got home, called my folks. My contract with this company was ending in 2 weeks, I was negotiating with them to extend my contract, they wanted to add me to their staff, I wanted to remain a free agent and I was looking at picking up another client. When I called my folks I said to them guess where I am going in two weeks, they said, Cape Town? Durban? I was always flitting off for a weekend here and there, I said No. I am going to the States. They said oh really? For how long, I said for two weeks, a month, I may not come back.
Famous last words...............
So I packed my bags, and my hefty balls :) and headed for New York, armed with travellers cheques (checks in the USA) and a Delta pass. I did a Contiki tour across the Southern States and used my Delta pass (an unlimited Standby ticket on Delta Airlines which cost a ridiculously low amount of around $300.00 for 2 months). I used it to the max. Travelled and hustled. I interviewed with a few folks, I was living with my cousin in LA, she graciously allowed me to stay with her for 2 months, I had no luck. See the States was no place for a Varsity dropout, and I was unable to get sponsored for a visa, it seems the American government allows illiterate immigrants to flood its borders but people who have not completed a degree are unable to get a visa. My time in LA and my Delta pass came to an end. I flew back to NY to stay with my ex-Uncle, who had been married to my mom's sister. There were 13 of us living in a 3 bedroom townhouse (condo). I shared a bed with my cousins, had no personal living space and the only place I could store anything was in my suitcase. I am grateful to have had the place to stay but it was hard, they were wonderful but I slipped into a depression that I had never known before, you see, failure was not an option. I had to do it myself, I had to pay my way, I started working in a store in the city, where they paid me $5.00 an hour, it cost me $20.00 to get there and back, 1.5 hours commute each way, but I ended up clearing $5.00 a day, it was all I could do. I interviewed all over NY, as with everything I gave it my all, one interview was in Coram, about an hour drive from my Uncle but I had no car, so had to travel back by train to a central line then catch a train to Coram. It took me 4 hours to get there. I left at 4am for a 9am interview. Once again I got the job but could not get a visa. I ate my way through the experience, junk food is unbelievably cheap in this country, a dollar can buy a few candy bars and I sure stretched those dollars. Spiralling into despair as I did so. I gained weight and lost myself. Failure was not an option. I had also been in an on and off relationship with someone who while being a great guy was not healthy for me, he tore my self esteem to shreds, and was verbally abusive. He and I both knew how wrong we were for each other, yet were drawn to each other and would always gravitate toward each other no matter how many times we broke up, my move to America would end that once and for all.
My parents had started a company when they first got married, they were flat broke, living with my grandparents and they started a debt collection company, just the two of them, as time went on my dad branched out into Personnell (Staffing) and they grew their respective companies into respected forces in the South African economy. My folks miraculously worked together for 35 years. Mind boggling really, Josh and I could not survive 35 minutes let alone 35 years. Their company was bought out by a huge French company who had offices all over the world with my folks being kept on to run the show. Thank G-d for neopotism, after having exhausted all my options my dad made a call for me, the next day I had an interview in Manhattan with a rather charming woman, who made it seem like I was the answer to their dreams and they had the perfect position available for me, ok so it did not really happen that way, they ummed and ahhed for ages, I flew back to SA to surprise my dad who was being sued by a cousin who was a councilman - yes a relative sued us, made front pages of the Star (SA newspaper) as people just did not sue each other like that in SA - but he did and I needed to support him. I flew back, part of the surprise was that my sisters were going to pick me up from the airport and drive me to their home. All I could think of was my bed, my car and my maid, not sure what order but geez did I long to see them all. My elder sister picked me up at Jan Smuts Airport (now Johannesburg International) and told me that I would have to stay at my folks as she thought I was not coming back (her and I shared a flat/apartment) and she had sold my bed, my folks maid had quit (what else was new) and she had an accident in my car while I was away and had sold my car) THANKS FOR TELLING ME. Oh and my folks had decided to go away for a long weekend to deal with the stress of the courtcase, so I came to stay in their house, with no car, no maid and I could not answer the phone, lest the surprise was spoiled.
In the midst of all the personal chaos, I had found a voice where I confronted those relatives and told them in no uncertain terms what I thought of them and still do to this day. I got a call from the NY company with a starting date and an offer. The salary was low but they promised me an icrease in 6 months if my performance was what they expected. I packed my two suitcases a few weeks later, closed my bank account with my last $5,000.00 and headed to NY to conquer America, except America conquered me.
It turns out the nice lady who had hired me was busy suing the company, hired me as a final F.U. told all of them that I was a spy for the French Head Quarters. I was there to work, an edit was sent out that no-one was allowed to befriend me as I was the enemy (I knew nothing of this at the time). My folks had instilled a great work ethic and I excelled at everything they threw at me, each task worse then the next. Failure was not an option, everytime I settled into a department they would move me on to the next. There were 120 employees, I knew no-one in Manhattan and I was not allowed to make friends. One guy asked me to join them foor lunch and was threatened with being fired. I made on friend on the side, Vicky, her and I developed a phone friendship, calling each others answering machines and leaving messages. They renaged on my raise, played silly games like making me wait until 6pm to meet with them after I ended at 5pm and then they would leave without telling me, after confirming the meeting with me during the day. Oh I forgot. Nasty stuff. My salary barely covered my expenses and I did without so much, there is something about living in NY and not being able to enjoy it. There were days when I had to walk over 70 blocks home as I did not have the $1.25 to catch the subway. Bagels were supplied for breakfast and I would take a few extra to get through the day, mac and cheese boxes were 5 for a dollar, about 1200 calories a box, I just ate away my misery in carb hell. I should have packed it in, they tried hard enough to make me, I honestly did not know how. They finally moved me into the sales department because I was getting too settled in the marketing dept (and I had been in every other department before then), and of course I tripled their sales for the area they gave me to cover, I managed to obtain to of their most coverted accounts that they had tried for years to land. My greencard came through and I resigned. No relief felt, just dragged myself away from the war zone. The called daily, begging me to come back - what?? They were out of their minds. I could not explain to them how whacked they are, one of the carzy ladies even had the cheek to say to me, but you don't even need themoney your dad is loaded. My folks were by no means loaded, they worked hard and were comfortable, how could I explain to them that even had my folks offered me a single dollar, I would not have taken it., they did not understand about monetary controls and how each dollar was earned and how you watch a pile of brightly coloured rands dwindle down to a few greenbacks.
In the midst of all this madness i met Josh. he is someone I would never have dated in my former life, you see I never needed anyone for anything. here I cried everyday for my folks, my friends, my life, there are days when I would sob, literally unable to move because I cried so much. When I worked for that horrible company I would come home and start sobbing the minute I walked in the door. Josh just knew, he would just hold me and let all the tears that had stained my soul, trail down his. He was my support system. I had no-one to lean on and even he, well he had to find out the hard way how self sufficient and proud I was, but that is a story for another day. Its been almost 13 years since I made that decision, I can't say I never doubted it because I did, many, many times but the one thing I know above all else that I was meant to marry the man I did and have the kids I have and today I am the luckiest person, I love my job, I have finally got great friends (another long post one day) and most of all I have my mommy and daddy nearby and my sister a phonecall away. It certainly does not get better then that.
I guess to answer that I have to look at my folks, failure was not an option, there just had to be another way to do it. When I was 23 I had the world by balls, I was working for a huge real estate company, I was a big shot freelance marketing agent, aka varsity drop out aka talk the talk and made everyone else believe I could walk the walk big shot pisher known to man. Arogance was my calling card and I dealt it with style, riding around Jo'burg in my spiffy BMW 318i coupe, making HUGE amounts of money every month. I used to call my dad at the end of the month and we would laugh at how much money I was being paid to shop. It was great. At that time there was a state of emergency in South Africa, the year being 1992/1993, Mandela was still etching notches into a wall on Robben Island. One fine day I was driving around Kempton Park, having just dropped two varsity (university) students to hand out flyers. This was pre-cellphones, although Ms. Spiffy aka me had a pager (sheesh I was such a wanker in those days - I thought I was so cool). I was driving around listening to 702 (because I was also a pseudo intellectual sort) and the Pan African Congress was on the radio, saying how for every settler they had one bullet (for those not in the know, the PAC was the extreme left wing political party and the settlers were white folks like moi). Here I was driving around Kempton Park, watching armoured vehicles drive around, having droped off two kids who may not make it back alive, and I felt so friggin' uneasy, guilty and just plain scared. The climate at the time was people were talking about where they were going to emmigrate to but most of my friends had not done it yet. I was 23 going on 50. That evening I represented my company at a Boksburg town council meeting, to try get some zoning changed. Short skirt - and who knows what could happen, I really had awesome legs in those days (lol). Here the extreme right wing was talking about how each of them belonged to a coalition where each person had 50,000 rounds of ammo and they were going to shoot every black person they saw the minute Mandela was released. It was a 20 minute drive from Boksburg to my flat in Killarney. I was so serious in those days, my mind was set on one thing and one thing only, making money and building my company into something big, successful and oh so lucrative. Not a thought of kids, relationships or anything of that sort. I was not known for rash or thoughtless decisions, more of the calculated, well thought out sort. In those 20 minutes I made a decision that would literally change the course of my life forever. I got home, called my folks. My contract with this company was ending in 2 weeks, I was negotiating with them to extend my contract, they wanted to add me to their staff, I wanted to remain a free agent and I was looking at picking up another client. When I called my folks I said to them guess where I am going in two weeks, they said, Cape Town? Durban? I was always flitting off for a weekend here and there, I said No. I am going to the States. They said oh really? For how long, I said for two weeks, a month, I may not come back.
Famous last words...............
So I packed my bags, and my hefty balls :) and headed for New York, armed with travellers cheques (checks in the USA) and a Delta pass. I did a Contiki tour across the Southern States and used my Delta pass (an unlimited Standby ticket on Delta Airlines which cost a ridiculously low amount of around $300.00 for 2 months). I used it to the max. Travelled and hustled. I interviewed with a few folks, I was living with my cousin in LA, she graciously allowed me to stay with her for 2 months, I had no luck. See the States was no place for a Varsity dropout, and I was unable to get sponsored for a visa, it seems the American government allows illiterate immigrants to flood its borders but people who have not completed a degree are unable to get a visa. My time in LA and my Delta pass came to an end. I flew back to NY to stay with my ex-Uncle, who had been married to my mom's sister. There were 13 of us living in a 3 bedroom townhouse (condo). I shared a bed with my cousins, had no personal living space and the only place I could store anything was in my suitcase. I am grateful to have had the place to stay but it was hard, they were wonderful but I slipped into a depression that I had never known before, you see, failure was not an option. I had to do it myself, I had to pay my way, I started working in a store in the city, where they paid me $5.00 an hour, it cost me $20.00 to get there and back, 1.5 hours commute each way, but I ended up clearing $5.00 a day, it was all I could do. I interviewed all over NY, as with everything I gave it my all, one interview was in Coram, about an hour drive from my Uncle but I had no car, so had to travel back by train to a central line then catch a train to Coram. It took me 4 hours to get there. I left at 4am for a 9am interview. Once again I got the job but could not get a visa. I ate my way through the experience, junk food is unbelievably cheap in this country, a dollar can buy a few candy bars and I sure stretched those dollars. Spiralling into despair as I did so. I gained weight and lost myself. Failure was not an option. I had also been in an on and off relationship with someone who while being a great guy was not healthy for me, he tore my self esteem to shreds, and was verbally abusive. He and I both knew how wrong we were for each other, yet were drawn to each other and would always gravitate toward each other no matter how many times we broke up, my move to America would end that once and for all.
My parents had started a company when they first got married, they were flat broke, living with my grandparents and they started a debt collection company, just the two of them, as time went on my dad branched out into Personnell (Staffing) and they grew their respective companies into respected forces in the South African economy. My folks miraculously worked together for 35 years. Mind boggling really, Josh and I could not survive 35 minutes let alone 35 years. Their company was bought out by a huge French company who had offices all over the world with my folks being kept on to run the show. Thank G-d for neopotism, after having exhausted all my options my dad made a call for me, the next day I had an interview in Manhattan with a rather charming woman, who made it seem like I was the answer to their dreams and they had the perfect position available for me, ok so it did not really happen that way, they ummed and ahhed for ages, I flew back to SA to surprise my dad who was being sued by a cousin who was a councilman - yes a relative sued us, made front pages of the Star (SA newspaper) as people just did not sue each other like that in SA - but he did and I needed to support him. I flew back, part of the surprise was that my sisters were going to pick me up from the airport and drive me to their home. All I could think of was my bed, my car and my maid, not sure what order but geez did I long to see them all. My elder sister picked me up at Jan Smuts Airport (now Johannesburg International) and told me that I would have to stay at my folks as she thought I was not coming back (her and I shared a flat/apartment) and she had sold my bed, my folks maid had quit (what else was new) and she had an accident in my car while I was away and had sold my car) THANKS FOR TELLING ME. Oh and my folks had decided to go away for a long weekend to deal with the stress of the courtcase, so I came to stay in their house, with no car, no maid and I could not answer the phone, lest the surprise was spoiled.
In the midst of all the personal chaos, I had found a voice where I confronted those relatives and told them in no uncertain terms what I thought of them and still do to this day. I got a call from the NY company with a starting date and an offer. The salary was low but they promised me an icrease in 6 months if my performance was what they expected. I packed my two suitcases a few weeks later, closed my bank account with my last $5,000.00 and headed to NY to conquer America, except America conquered me.
It turns out the nice lady who had hired me was busy suing the company, hired me as a final F.U. told all of them that I was a spy for the French Head Quarters. I was there to work, an edit was sent out that no-one was allowed to befriend me as I was the enemy (I knew nothing of this at the time). My folks had instilled a great work ethic and I excelled at everything they threw at me, each task worse then the next. Failure was not an option, everytime I settled into a department they would move me on to the next. There were 120 employees, I knew no-one in Manhattan and I was not allowed to make friends. One guy asked me to join them foor lunch and was threatened with being fired. I made on friend on the side, Vicky, her and I developed a phone friendship, calling each others answering machines and leaving messages. They renaged on my raise, played silly games like making me wait until 6pm to meet with them after I ended at 5pm and then they would leave without telling me, after confirming the meeting with me during the day. Oh I forgot. Nasty stuff. My salary barely covered my expenses and I did without so much, there is something about living in NY and not being able to enjoy it. There were days when I had to walk over 70 blocks home as I did not have the $1.25 to catch the subway. Bagels were supplied for breakfast and I would take a few extra to get through the day, mac and cheese boxes were 5 for a dollar, about 1200 calories a box, I just ate away my misery in carb hell. I should have packed it in, they tried hard enough to make me, I honestly did not know how. They finally moved me into the sales department because I was getting too settled in the marketing dept (and I had been in every other department before then), and of course I tripled their sales for the area they gave me to cover, I managed to obtain to of their most coverted accounts that they had tried for years to land. My greencard came through and I resigned. No relief felt, just dragged myself away from the war zone. The called daily, begging me to come back - what?? They were out of their minds. I could not explain to them how whacked they are, one of the carzy ladies even had the cheek to say to me, but you don't even need themoney your dad is loaded. My folks were by no means loaded, they worked hard and were comfortable, how could I explain to them that even had my folks offered me a single dollar, I would not have taken it., they did not understand about monetary controls and how each dollar was earned and how you watch a pile of brightly coloured rands dwindle down to a few greenbacks.
In the midst of all this madness i met Josh. he is someone I would never have dated in my former life, you see I never needed anyone for anything. here I cried everyday for my folks, my friends, my life, there are days when I would sob, literally unable to move because I cried so much. When I worked for that horrible company I would come home and start sobbing the minute I walked in the door. Josh just knew, he would just hold me and let all the tears that had stained my soul, trail down his. He was my support system. I had no-one to lean on and even he, well he had to find out the hard way how self sufficient and proud I was, but that is a story for another day. Its been almost 13 years since I made that decision, I can't say I never doubted it because I did, many, many times but the one thing I know above all else that I was meant to marry the man I did and have the kids I have and today I am the luckiest person, I love my job, I have finally got great friends (another long post one day) and most of all I have my mommy and daddy nearby and my sister a phonecall away. It certainly does not get better then that.
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