I was surprised to receive a phone call from the Red Cross telling me that they were interested in my candidature. Just a few hours prior to that, I came out of a coffee shop thinking that I had just spent the worst interview of my life.
The interview itself wasn't anything like I was used to. It was in a coffee house, one in which French snobs would sit around and discuss insignificant matters over an overpriced latte. The "coffee" was offered by the organization; I played my Englishman and ordered tea instead. The gave a very large red cup. The cup was so large I could possibly drown a few African children in it. Not only was is so large that it was impossible to lift with one hand, the cute waitress had filled it to the point where any diagonal movement would create another Tsunami to raise funds for. My interviewer was busy; I walked towards him to indicate my presence. He looked more like a bear than a human being. In front of him sat a boy; one of those that finds it amusing to stretch their ears to the point that you can use him as a basketball hoop. "He's quite unlikely to get the job, with the looks that he has" I thought. The bear looked at me, nodded and asked me to kindly sit on the other end of the cafe so that he may finish his interview. I complied.
Half an hour later, whilst I was peacefully playing chess on my phone, an enormous hand appeared in front of me. I contemplated it for a few seconds. It was hairy, "it must belong to come kind of furry creature". I was awaken from my thoughts by a deep "Bonjour!". The bearman was standing in front of me, smiling and gesticulating an invitation to join him at his table. The whole interview was a mix of smiles, embarrassing role plays and questions to which I had to find an adequate answer so that I don't shock the bear. Never in my life have I made up so many personal virtues and moral rules. "Humanity is important..." "I want to do my part for the world..." "I want to help people..." What a big load of BS. It was all said to hide my actual motive to obtain the job - Money.
Nevertheless, I must have been quite convincing since a few days later, I found myself skipping German. The training took place on Nun's Island. After the confusing bus ride and fairly awkward introduction (during which I once again unloaded the excessive amount of BS I had given during the interview) our lecturer, E, started introducing us to what the Red Cross does for the world. E was a rather strange individual. Skinny, with a beard, he looked like the type of guy whom got his job by a lucky coincidence of having the right last name and being friends with the right people. He was very loud and it was hard to concentrate on what was being said. On that day, I found out that I was supposed to find people whom subconsciously have always wanted to give for the Red Cross. E made it clear that we weren't supposed to convince anyone. If they are motivated, you sign them up.
That's when I started doubting the whole idea of these regular donors. Before I get into the details of my doubts, I think it's important that I clarify what is meant by a "regular donor". A "regular donor" is an individual stupid enough to think that by signing up to an automatic monthly withdraw from his bank account he is doing something good for the world. This monthly soul cleansing is probably the most idiotic thing I've ever seen.
The worst about this job is that I have to talk about things that this organization does with which I don't necessarily agree. For instance, letting Syrians in Europe shouldn't be so easy. Don't get me wrong, as an immigrant myself, I have nothing against moving from one country to another. However, I firmly believe that if you want to live elsewhere, you need to at least somewhat adopt the culture you'll be surrounded with, work, and above all learn the language(s) of your new country. If you don't do these things, you should be shipped elsewhere. Also, I don't agree with sending money here and there around the world when we have problems of our own in Canada. I think that it's only once that Canada has eliminated poverty and unemployment in it's own state that it would be justifiable to send money to other countries. This might sound a bit individualistic but why choose others instead of our own citizens? There is thousands of Canadian families that live in terrible conditions. Stop sending money to Tchad, keep it in the country.
I few days ago, I had my first work day. My doubts became reality. The entire team collected a total of 3 people. Despite having stopped numerous people, nobody seemed willing to sing up. I don't blame them. I don't even blame those that passed avoiding me. I would have done the same. I'm not sure I want to keep working for them. The shifts are exhausting and not gratifying at all.
As a conclusion I can only say this: "if you SEE someone in need, help them; don't waste your time and money on helping those whom you don't see". If everyone did this, I truly believe that it would make a bigger impact than sending money here and there.
The interview itself wasn't anything like I was used to. It was in a coffee house, one in which French snobs would sit around and discuss insignificant matters over an overpriced latte. The "coffee" was offered by the organization; I played my Englishman and ordered tea instead. The gave a very large red cup. The cup was so large I could possibly drown a few African children in it. Not only was is so large that it was impossible to lift with one hand, the cute waitress had filled it to the point where any diagonal movement would create another Tsunami to raise funds for. My interviewer was busy; I walked towards him to indicate my presence. He looked more like a bear than a human being. In front of him sat a boy; one of those that finds it amusing to stretch their ears to the point that you can use him as a basketball hoop. "He's quite unlikely to get the job, with the looks that he has" I thought. The bear looked at me, nodded and asked me to kindly sit on the other end of the cafe so that he may finish his interview. I complied.
Half an hour later, whilst I was peacefully playing chess on my phone, an enormous hand appeared in front of me. I contemplated it for a few seconds. It was hairy, "it must belong to come kind of furry creature". I was awaken from my thoughts by a deep "Bonjour!". The bearman was standing in front of me, smiling and gesticulating an invitation to join him at his table. The whole interview was a mix of smiles, embarrassing role plays and questions to which I had to find an adequate answer so that I don't shock the bear. Never in my life have I made up so many personal virtues and moral rules. "Humanity is important..." "I want to do my part for the world..." "I want to help people..." What a big load of BS. It was all said to hide my actual motive to obtain the job - Money.
Nevertheless, I must have been quite convincing since a few days later, I found myself skipping German. The training took place on Nun's Island. After the confusing bus ride and fairly awkward introduction (during which I once again unloaded the excessive amount of BS I had given during the interview) our lecturer, E, started introducing us to what the Red Cross does for the world. E was a rather strange individual. Skinny, with a beard, he looked like the type of guy whom got his job by a lucky coincidence of having the right last name and being friends with the right people. He was very loud and it was hard to concentrate on what was being said. On that day, I found out that I was supposed to find people whom subconsciously have always wanted to give for the Red Cross. E made it clear that we weren't supposed to convince anyone. If they are motivated, you sign them up.
That's when I started doubting the whole idea of these regular donors. Before I get into the details of my doubts, I think it's important that I clarify what is meant by a "regular donor". A "regular donor" is an individual stupid enough to think that by signing up to an automatic monthly withdraw from his bank account he is doing something good for the world. This monthly soul cleansing is probably the most idiotic thing I've ever seen.
The worst about this job is that I have to talk about things that this organization does with which I don't necessarily agree. For instance, letting Syrians in Europe shouldn't be so easy. Don't get me wrong, as an immigrant myself, I have nothing against moving from one country to another. However, I firmly believe that if you want to live elsewhere, you need to at least somewhat adopt the culture you'll be surrounded with, work, and above all learn the language(s) of your new country. If you don't do these things, you should be shipped elsewhere. Also, I don't agree with sending money here and there around the world when we have problems of our own in Canada. I think that it's only once that Canada has eliminated poverty and unemployment in it's own state that it would be justifiable to send money to other countries. This might sound a bit individualistic but why choose others instead of our own citizens? There is thousands of Canadian families that live in terrible conditions. Stop sending money to Tchad, keep it in the country.
I few days ago, I had my first work day. My doubts became reality. The entire team collected a total of 3 people. Despite having stopped numerous people, nobody seemed willing to sing up. I don't blame them. I don't even blame those that passed avoiding me. I would have done the same. I'm not sure I want to keep working for them. The shifts are exhausting and not gratifying at all.
As a conclusion I can only say this: "if you SEE someone in need, help them; don't waste your time and money on helping those whom you don't see". If everyone did this, I truly believe that it would make a bigger impact than sending money here and there.
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