My French-English
dictionary has a whole collection of what it terms “false friends.” These are
words that may sound similar to one in the other language but have a different
meaning than what you might be expecting. Librarie
is one example of a French word that sounds similar to the English
library. While the English version
refers to a place for borrowing books, free of charge, the French librarie
refers to a bookstore. Both terms have
to do with books though the difference lies in the essence of what you do with them. Borrowing and buying
have nearly opposite meanings. Décevoir
is another example. Though it may sound similar to the English deceive, it
actually means to disappoint. Both words pretty much sum up how my job search
has been going. Disappointing and filled with deception of a sort.
Quitting my job without having another one lined up is
probably one of the most reckless things I have ever done. Or maybe it is just
a side effect of turning 40. I got my first job when I was 14 and I have been steadily
working ever since, most often juggling 2 jobs or some combination of work and
school. The international teaching calendar, however, doesn’t really allow for
grown ups to act like grown ups. It seems designed for the perpetually young and
single, those with a fervor for travel and a lack of true responsibility. Though
there seem to be more and more families in the circuit, the schedule remains
unchanged- gets more intense every year in fact. The date to decide about
whether you will stay or go gets earlier and earlier while the hiring season
begins a month or so later. Essentially one is forced to decide if they will go
or stay before receiving any offers of employment from another school.
After much consideration (and a bunch of other pressure) I
finally decided to just go for it. It’s
the way things are done, I reasoned. Everyone
else has gone through it and come out fine on the other end. So will I. And
then of course, things changed a bit though by that time it was too late. Despite
the challenges, I have always felt moving to Abidjan was the right decision.
There is just the small matter of finding a job.
I spent the first month and half mostly waiting for the
little one. I reasoned that job-hunting with a baby belly might be difficult. I
did manage to have 2 interviews during that time however- both at the same
place, both with promises of one sort or another that an offer was in the near future.
It became clear soon enough, however, that despite all of the positive
encouragement and reassurances, nothing was actually going to happen. Not soon
anyway. Maybe not ever.
In the weeks just after birth I had another interview. I’d
gone to drop off my CV and application at a local school that was newly
reopening. I was met with a warm welcome and an interview on the spot. As our
discussion came to a close, I asked for contact information in case I did not
hear from them by the end of the week as promised. The director said, and I quote, “You’ll hear
from us. If you want to know, it was a good interview. And you being an
American, a native speaker, that’s really a plus.” All signs pointed to
yes. Eerily similar to the positive
response I’d received from the previous school. I was filled with a sense of
déjà vu.
The promised day came and went without a word. Turns out
that Friday was a holiday. I think Abidjan is probably the country with the
most (obscure) holidays. Since the Muslim and Christian population (appear to
be) equally split, holidays from both religions make the national list (and I
definitely remember a host of random spiritual tribute days when I was a
student in Catholic school.) It was easy to attribute the quiet phone to the
holiday.
As more days passed it became clear that perhaps this was
another example of an unfulfilled promise. We pondered over why everyone seemed
so free and easy with the positive words, gushing about how enamored they were
with me only to disappear in silence at the last moment.
I did stop by the school to follow up and was told by a very
friendly secretary that she’d heard the post was filled. She wasn’t sure by who
or if that person had even been contacted yet. Things were busy with the
reopening. She promised to remind the director to send out the emails and make
the phone calls alerting potential applicants. Apparently I wasn’t the only one
checking back in to see if a decision had been made. The vague answer left me
still in hope. Still in wonder about how the initial greeting could have been
so warm and the follow through so cold.
I finally received the call this evening at 6:30. Long after
I’d given up. “I was supposed to call you,” the director said, as if we were
old friends. There’s a reason why he is the director. I was charmed enough to overlook
the fact that phone call was arriving a week late. He proceeded to offer me the
position, details still murky but promised to be clarified in the form of a
contract sent to my email inbox on Monday. Sounds as though it will be less
than half time, which comes with both positive and negative aspects.
Luckily, I have another interview scheduled, also for
Monday. This time I will not be swept away with hope and excitement at the mere
prospect of an offer. A contract in hand is the only thing that can sway me. No
vague promises. By Tuesday evening I should know without a doubt what my
employment situation is. Of course, I’ve had that thought before and been
completely wrong. No more false friends.
