Exactly 12 weeks to go!

GIRLF HAS BEEN OFFERED A JOB!

Well done Girlf. As I mentioned before, entering the job market is not a lot of fun; kind of like going to a singles night and realizing the desperate reality of the situation you've found yourself in and that, even worse, there are a lot, a very lot, of people desperately trying to get out. 

Singles night or people looking for work?

So well done for getting a job and not going mad in the process. Three cheers for you. Now the team will have at least one income when the Anglo-Chilean side of the family arrive in July and Girlf. can keep us illegal immigrants alive for a bit. 

Girlf's new job is in Helsinki which is probably a good thing. More work opportunities for me and as faraway as is possible from the scary white walkers in the North. It's a capital city but since I'm coming from Santiago - pop. 5,428,590, I should be able to manage the hustle and bustle of Helsinki -pop. 620,982. (Seriously? More people go to Glastonbury festival.) By the way, should I let Wikipedia know that I'm moving so they can amend their population stats?  

Here in the big capital I continue to whittle down my possessions into just 46 kilos. Next weekend I'm hosting the 1st garage sale so this weekend I'll be mostly sorting out, and cleaning, the things I plan to sell. I don't imagine I'll make too much money but anything's a help; I just forked out 120 euros on travelling-cages for the animals. I'm now trying to convince Dog that her cage is a happy place where she can feel safe. Dog however rightly suspects a ruse and won't go near the thing. Maybe I should hang a picture of Lassie or The Littlest Hobo inside. 

May Day tomorrow. No work. Huzzah! Take advantage of the free time and watch the opening credits of the Littlest Hobo. Happy days.

12-and-a-bit weeks to go - Buddhism.

Like a drunkenly captained cruise ship crashing through a jetty, I plough on through my list of things to do and find myself at the "What do I take?" or "What don't I take?" port.

KLM will let me take 23 kilos and for another $80 I can take another 23 kilos. However, if I want to take a third bag it'll cost me another $160. The post office will let me send a 20 kilo box for $180 which seems expensive, and ever since they spectacularly, and I suspect criminally, failed to deliver a bunch of postcards I once entrusted to them, I'm not overkeen on hiring them again. 

The truth is, I'd really like to go Buddhist on this move.

Do I need more than 46 kilos of things in my life? Ten years ago I moved to my current apartment with just two bags, and one of them was full of climbing equipment. Nowadays I don't even climb, in fact the only real justification I have for taking loads of things is, well, sentimentality.

Let us take a moment to consider the words of some great thinking people (Has anyone else discovered Brainyquote.com?).

If we look closely, we can see that those who have many possessions are not necessarily happy. In fact, being wealthy often brings even more anxiety. - Dalai Lama.

If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. - J.C. 

I was dancing in a lesbian bar - Jonathan Richman

OK. The last one is perhaps less relevant but it does give me the chance to link to one of my favourite videos of all time

In conclusion. I have to get back to basics. There's no room for clutter nor sentimentality. So, like some drunken students attempting to fit twenty people into a phone box, I have to strip-back ten years of things into just 46 kilos of weight.

Help me Snufkin.

13 weeks to go - VOLCANO!

So in the last year there have been some crazy things happening in Chile. Floods, landslides, forest fires and now exploding volcanoes.

The 23rd of July flight date is beginning to give me a definite 'last helicopter out of Saigon' feeling

By the way, I think Pyroclastic Flow is one of my favorite terms ever. It should be the name of a band.

13 weeks to go. Bob-a-job

Bob-a-job was a tradition carried out by The Scouts where they would knock on your door and for a quid they'd wash your car or clean out your drains or help you bury a suspiciously large plastic bag no questions asked. It was a kind of olden days trick-or-treat from the times when people were nice to each other. They're probably not allowed to do it anymore because everyone's a paedophile so they must get their money for Kendal Mint Cake from somewhere else. Probably selling crack.

Anyway. Now that flight is sorted and Dog and Cat are almost ready too, I have no excuse not to think about how I will earn money in Finland. At the moment bob-a-job might be the best alternative. That or selling crack. 

It's been a while since I've had to get involved in the traditional means of job seeking and I'm just beginning to realise how fortunate that makes me. What a soul-destroying process. Spend hours writing and researching and checking and re-checking and printing out and checking again and almost sending but then checking again and then finally finishing your application and then screwing it up and throwing it into the sea. Or at least it feels like you might as well. Once you push 'send' then all your hard work falls like a tree into the silence of cyberspace. No thankyou, no feedback, no anything.

Last time I was in this situation was when I had just graduated as an ESL teacher and I was futilely* sending applications to institutes in Spain. After a few weeks of effort I decided just to fly to Spain and turn up at some institutes with my crooked smile and crooked CV. Within a week I'd been offered several jobs. Every job since then I've got in the same way; Get an address or a name and then turn up on the doorstep. Essentially my USP is proximity. "I'm here, now. Surely that makes up for the gaps on my CV?"
   I guess I figured I'd do the same in Finland but it's probably a good idea to try and sort something out before hand, or at least to try.

So that's how the days are passing right now. Cover letters, CVs and online applications. Job seekers don't get the credit they deserve. It's a barren life.

On the other hand. This week the mighty Bristol City became Champions of the English third division. Steve Cotterill, you're going on the wall of heroes. I bet you didn't have to fill out an online application.

*what an adverb - High five!

Dog and chips

Mostly I seem to worry myself between one of two states. Crisis, “Oh no! How am I going to resolve that in time?” and restless, “Things are a little too quiet. Shouldn't I be shouting 'oh no'?”.

This week started well. My attempt to do my own tax-return was corrected by the nice man at the special marquee they've set up for idiots who try to do their own tax-return. It seems I got lucky because this is the last year you can opt not to pay 'contributions' to a pension scheme/politician's pocket. I know it makes sense on paper to insist that people pay toward their future but an awful lot of people are going to have a lot less money next fiscal year.

Then today a nice lady came to put ID chips in Dog and Cat who weren't entirely happy about it but they seem ok. They now beep when you pass a special machine over their nape (so glad I got to use that word).

Now I have to get cages for them both. The problem with this moving-with-pets malarky is that a lot of the time you're never sure who to believe; everyone is an expert even though they all tell you different things. Go to a vet's and they try to sell you a cage perfect for airplanes, then you check the website and discover that that model is no longer allowed. One person will tell you to sedate the animals, the next no. One person tells you to buy copper, the other sell. One person tells you to stitch the bags of drugs into your suitcase, the other says strap them to your stomach. Nightmare. Perhaps once I get to Chile I'll set up an advice bureau for people travelling with pets.

Well. That'll do for today. Next time I'll tell you about my attempts to get a job.

14 weeks and two days. Sisyphus

Sisyphus was a naughty boy. His punishment was to push a boulder to the top of a hill from where it would roll back down and he would have to begin again.

That's not really an accurate image of my life at the moment. His was the ultimate thankless task (unless he was training for the worlds strongest man-he'd kill in both the stone lifting and plane pulling). I'm faced with more of an ever increasing list of things to do. A bit like the scence in Game of Thrones (topical reference-well done) where Daenerys the naked dragon woman is in the palace wearily listening to her new subjects and their tales of tragedy and woe and discovers that there are still another 200 or so queuing up outside.

Still, there is definitely light at the end of the tunnel. My mind races through the things I have to do, connecting them like some weird stream of conciouness. Today I have to put a ID chip in Cat and Dog which made me think of the chip in the movie Pi...

...which had an ant on it which reminds me I must do something about the ants that are living in my bathroom which reminds me that the cleaner is coming today and I must buy her some of the pastries she likes. Endless lists. Tick something off and write on three more things to do. A bit like Sisyphus really.

Still. I do have a nice new song to listen to. 

You meet a girl,

She moves soft eyes and pulls you in the game.

Perhaps you do not wonder her reasons or her name.

You'll follow her on out the room,

How sweet her body flows,

Say take it easy,

make it lazy,

That's the way to go.

Do believe it's easy, Do believe it's easy,

Do believe it's easy don't even have to try.

15 weeks to go. We have a flight!!!

Wow. That wasn't easy.

OK. So if you'd like to know how to book a flight from Chile to Finland with two pets, or you'd like to know what I've been doing with my free time of late, or alternatively you'd like to know why I have no money and more wrinkles and less hair and why everyone thinks I'm a shouty, up-tight, stressed-out idiot with 1st-world problems, well then read on.

• To fly with pets you have to make a reservation for the pets on the plane (most planes only carry up to 6 animals). 
• This means you have to call the airline and book over the phone (more expensive). 
• If the second airline is Finnair the nice lady on the phone can't make the booking and suggests you phone the Finnair office. 
• The number for the Finnair office in Santiago is answered by an initially friendly but increasingly angry receptionist at Bavarian Cured Meats who assures you that she can't help with your reservation. 
  

• You then get in touch with Finnair via Twitter who give you the helpline number which doesn't work from Chile. 
• Then ask Girlf. (bless her heart) to phone and she'll discover that Finnair can't help if the first flight is booked with a different company. They will recommend that you speak to a travel agent. 

• Try to remain calm. 
• Go to travel agent who will promise to send you an email with a quote for the flight within the next two days. 
• Two weeks and two phone calls later and you still won't have received an email. However, by now you should be familiar with most airline regulations/flight patterns/how to fly a plane and you'll realise that KLM fly into Finland. 
• Call KLM and they will try to sell you an Air France flight which is no good because the second flight is operated by Finnair (see step 3). 
• They then confirm that there is a flight, change in Schipol Amsterdam, which gets to Helsinki and is operated uniquely by KLM. Hooray!. 

• Then you have to give details of the cage sizes and the lovely KLM lady Mabel tries to reserve space for Cat and Dog on the flights. 
• Then the system crashes, Mabel has to restart the computer and then tells you she'll contact you by email.
• After talking with her supervisor Mabel will tell you that the reservation may take a couple of days before it's confirmed by Amsterdam. Meanwhile, why not look at the details of the OBLIGATORY pet hotel in Schipol which costs $200 per pet for a FOUR hour stay.

• Mabel duly gets back to you with the confirmation complete. Well done Mabel!
• Now look at your pets and try to convince yourself that it will all be worth it. 

Into April - Bad capitalism. Did Jesus die for this?

Me: "Hi. Are you a business that provides services for money?"
Business: "Yes."
Me: "Can you help me? I have money."
Business: "Meh."

My mate from the states says that Chile is an extremely capitalist country, the problem is that it's rubbish at it. This week his observation has been ringing through my baffled brain as time and again I've asked travel agents to help me, in exchange for money, and they have, time and again, failed to do so.

It's a model you see a lot in Chile. Businesses steadfastly refusing to change their 'unhelpful' M.O. despite other businesses right-next-door doing so much better by offering good service. It's amazing. You want to take the owner of the empty restaurant by the hand, walk him down the road to the heaving popular restaurant and say, "Look how it could be. Just be nice to your customers."

On the other hand, I kind of respect the defiance of the bad companies. Like some old boy refusing to move despite the cliffs below his house slowly crumbling into the sea.

So. I still don't have a flight.

However, I did read an amazing story about a man known as D.B. Cooper.

He hijacked an aeroplane, demanded a parachute and $200,000 in 1971 money, locked the pilot and the crew in the cockpit then jumped out the back, never to be seen again. Hero. As I write I'm looking at Cat and Dog and wondering if they'll need their own chute or if we can get away with just the one for the three of us.

Have a lovely Easter.