So I'm supposedly tri-lingual. Or rather, I'm fluent in one (English), studied another (French), and somewhat speak yet another (Czech). All in all, the last two languages are beautiful, at least to me, but not as useful as say Russian or Spanish, or even Mandarin for that matter. After having studied and lived in France for two months, and then serving a mission in the Czech Republic for a year and a half, you would think that my language skills would be impressive. But, unfortunately, I haven't had much use for either one of them.
Until now. French may not be a hot commodity on the West Coast, but on the East, it sure is. There are so many francophony here, and I work with a lot of them. There are a handful of guys from Algeria, Senegal, Cote d'Ivoire, etc that communicate in French. I have to admit that I haven't been brave enough to use the French that I do know, but who's to say that I won't?
I've now graduated to the level of cashier, and have gotten pretty good at it, if I do say so myself. I get to strike up random conversations with people that come through my lines. Some of them flop:
Me: Did you find everything you wanted today?
Boring customer: Yes.
Me: Do you have any fun plans for tonight?
BC: No, not really.
Ok then...
But some of them end up being incredibly cool. Like this one lady with a very distinctive Eastern European accent.
Me: Did you find everything you wanted today?
Lovely, Brilliant customer: Yes, and so much more. I came in for this beer, but ended up getting so much more...
She went on and on and somehow I got the impression that she was Czech. So randomly I asked, "Jste češka?" (are you Czech?)
She excitedly replied, "Ano!!! Jsem!"
I was flabbergasted. This is the first random Czech citizen I've run into the entire time I've been back. All other Czechs I've come in contact with I've already known. We carried on an entire conversation in Czech ("You speak so well," she said. "Oh, you're too kind," I said). We spoke about the weather, my mission, where she's from, what she's doing here, what I'm doing here, etc. It was wonderful! I was so excited/shocked/nervous (my language skills are definitely rusty) that I was tripping over my r's and ř's.
I now have a new Czech friend, though I don't know her name. And now that I'm not a missionary I can tykat (use the informal) and not feel guilty about it.
Oh, bliss!
Red Shoe Something
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
To Card or Not to Card...
Life at Trader Joe's is never dull. When I first started people thought I was a bit strange for not drinking the free, delicious coffee or tasting the wine. I don't smoke or cuss like a sailor. One day during a much beloved ten-minute break with one of my co-workers, church came up. She's Catholic, and I'm LDS. A look of realization flitted across her face, "Oh, now it makes so much more sense!"
That being said, I'm a bit clueless when it comes to certain items in our store--mainly our colossal wine section. The "wine guys" always encourage me to try the wine, which I politely decline. The other day one of them asked if I didn't drink for religious reasons or by choice. "Both," I said. He then asked if I was Muslim. Um, no. Mormon.
I'm glad that people are starting to know that I am a member the church, because it makes things far less awkward.
But back to the clueless part. Last night was my first night working with the closing crew. They are an awesome group of guys. About 15 til 10pm we had a huddle outside the front entrance of the store to discuss how the store is running, what can be improved, and various other announcements. Of the 15 or so people there, all but 3 of us lit up. I was shocked, to say the least. And it was really hard for me to concentrate on what was being said. My eyes were stinging, and I was hoping that I didn't end up smelling like I'd smoked the cancer sticks.
Anyways, the main topic of discussion was an incident that had occurred earlier that evening. I woman had gone to pay for some alcohol and was asked for her ID. She "obviously" looked like she was over 35 (could it be from smoking?), but she couldn't produce an ID. So a big debate ensued. Should we sell alcohol to someone who cannot produce an ID, even though they may look like they are older? Or is that breaking some sort of law? Our manager told us that we cannot sell alcohol to someone who can't identify themselves. Enough said. That makes perfect sense right?
Nope, guess again. One of the wine guys gets all up in a huff (because he had helped this woman pick out the wine) saying that it was wrong for us not to sell her alcohol. "Show me the law!" he passionately cried. He was incredibly upset and believed that this customer will never come back to Trader Joe's because she was embarrassed and that she should never had been put in that situation. He went as far to say that the cashier who carded her was stupid and that we shouldn't card people who look like they're in their 30s. This man was so argumentative that he was practically yelling at our manager. Emotions were escalating. Bad move. Then everyone else starting chiming in about how the wine guy was wrong and started talking about sting operations and being sent to prison, and all the intricacies of carding. And I'm pretty sure some of them were talking from personal experience while in their youth.
Twenty minutes later, when everyone had their nicotine fix (and three of us had gotten the black lung), when the carding situation was finally settled (we have every right to card a customer and to refuse to sell them alcohol if they don't have their ID) I got to go home. I never would have imagined that I would ever participate in a conversation concerning the proper techniques and etiquette for carding. Like I said, never a dull moment.
And might I add, that I don't mind being clueless, at least in that regard. It makes life easier.
That being said, I'm a bit clueless when it comes to certain items in our store--mainly our colossal wine section. The "wine guys" always encourage me to try the wine, which I politely decline. The other day one of them asked if I didn't drink for religious reasons or by choice. "Both," I said. He then asked if I was Muslim. Um, no. Mormon.
I'm glad that people are starting to know that I am a member the church, because it makes things far less awkward.
But back to the clueless part. Last night was my first night working with the closing crew. They are an awesome group of guys. About 15 til 10pm we had a huddle outside the front entrance of the store to discuss how the store is running, what can be improved, and various other announcements. Of the 15 or so people there, all but 3 of us lit up. I was shocked, to say the least. And it was really hard for me to concentrate on what was being said. My eyes were stinging, and I was hoping that I didn't end up smelling like I'd smoked the cancer sticks.
Anyways, the main topic of discussion was an incident that had occurred earlier that evening. I woman had gone to pay for some alcohol and was asked for her ID. She "obviously" looked like she was over 35 (could it be from smoking?), but she couldn't produce an ID. So a big debate ensued. Should we sell alcohol to someone who cannot produce an ID, even though they may look like they are older? Or is that breaking some sort of law? Our manager told us that we cannot sell alcohol to someone who can't identify themselves. Enough said. That makes perfect sense right?
Nope, guess again. One of the wine guys gets all up in a huff (because he had helped this woman pick out the wine) saying that it was wrong for us not to sell her alcohol. "Show me the law!" he passionately cried. He was incredibly upset and believed that this customer will never come back to Trader Joe's because she was embarrassed and that she should never had been put in that situation. He went as far to say that the cashier who carded her was stupid and that we shouldn't card people who look like they're in their 30s. This man was so argumentative that he was practically yelling at our manager. Emotions were escalating. Bad move. Then everyone else starting chiming in about how the wine guy was wrong and started talking about sting operations and being sent to prison, and all the intricacies of carding. And I'm pretty sure some of them were talking from personal experience while in their youth.
Twenty minutes later, when everyone had their nicotine fix (and three of us had gotten the black lung), when the carding situation was finally settled (we have every right to card a customer and to refuse to sell them alcohol if they don't have their ID) I got to go home. I never would have imagined that I would ever participate in a conversation concerning the proper techniques and etiquette for carding. Like I said, never a dull moment.
And might I add, that I don't mind being clueless, at least in that regard. It makes life easier.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Life as I now know it...
My hands smell like latex. My cuticles are ripped and torn. My shirt is stained with blackberries. I've yet again discovered muscles I didn't even know I had (and I've had many chance to discover new muscles). My mind is busy. I've been waiting for this moment for such a long time!
I've now completed two full weeks as a crew member at good ol' Trader Joe's. It is so nice to be doing something. I've lifted, hauled, stacked, picked, placed, tasted, scooted, blown up, fetched, carried, sliced, shoved, smashed, tripped (I'm a klutz), almost broken, knocked over, scraped, pushed, pulled, and sensed more than I have in a very long while. I hurt. My body is still not used to the all the physical labor, and I'm excited for the day that my body doesn't automatically shut down at 9:30 pm. And I feel that day coming very soon.
Work = Happiness.
I've now completed two full weeks as a crew member at good ol' Trader Joe's. It is so nice to be doing something. I've lifted, hauled, stacked, picked, placed, tasted, scooted, blown up, fetched, carried, sliced, shoved, smashed, tripped (I'm a klutz), almost broken, knocked over, scraped, pushed, pulled, and sensed more than I have in a very long while. I hurt. My body is still not used to the all the physical labor, and I'm excited for the day that my body doesn't automatically shut down at 9:30 pm. And I feel that day coming very soon.
Work = Happiness.
Monday, May 4, 2009
A Night at the Nats
Baseball is the American past-time, and I've loved it ever since I was a wee little lass. Being the first child, I may have had a slight advantage over my younger siblings in that my parents signed me up for everything. I did tap, ballet, gymnastics, swimming, soccer (bad experience, don't want to talk about it), basketball, golf camp, tennis camp, horse back riding camp...you get the picture. But some of my favorite childhood memories come from playing baseball with my dad, on a team, or a pick-up game with the other neighborhood kids.When we were younger, my dad would take my brother and I to the Kingdome in Seattle to see the Mariners play. It was an absolute treat. I remember buying peanuts from street vendors to take inside, sitting way out in the out-field, and loving every minute of the game.
This past week i was reminded again how much I love baseball games. My friend Heather invited me to go with her work to the Nationals game. I thought it was very fitting to see the American past-time in the nation's capital. My childhood memories flooded back, leaving me with an intense sense of nostalgia.
Even though I've lived all over the world (kinda), there really is no place like America. I am proud to be an American! And I'm proud to be an American who loves baseball!
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Decisions, decisions...
I hate making decisions. It's true. In social situations like at a restaurant, I'm the person who likes to order last, so I can have the extra time to decide between the 3-5 items on the menu that sound equally great to me. The last time I was out with a friend, I think it took me 15 minutes to decide what kind of wrap I wanted (I was secretly happy that my friend was also having a hard time trying to decide what to eat).
Many would say that those decisions are pretty minor, and it's kinda pathetic that it takes me a while to come to a decision. On the other hand, I've been faced with some pretty major, life-altering decisions as of late. And that's when making a decision becomes absolute agony for me. I don't know why, but I can't seem to help it. Maybe it's because I have this fear of making the wrong choice.
I've always been the sort of person who likes to have life planned out. And I had a plan...up until college graduation. But ever since then my future has been gapingly wide open. Frightening.
What to do? Grad school? Peace Corp? Foreign Service? Become an expert bagger slashy grocer at TJs? Become an administrative assistant, and waste away countless hours in front of a computer searching the web in between making copies, answering phones, and running random errands? Tempting, but no.
After many anxiety-ridden sleepless nights, and countless hours of prayer, I've finally decided what I'm going to do...
Back to Berhan, back to my amazingly cute kids.
"But you just got back!" you may say. It's true. I did. But it feels right. It is right.
The Lord works in mysterious ways, and through my experience here in DC I've learned how the Lord is acutely aware of me and my situation. Honestly, it would have been so much easier if He had told me what to do, but I've learned that's not His way.
Decision making is a blessing, even though it may seem like a blessing in deep, undercover disguise.
Many would say that those decisions are pretty minor, and it's kinda pathetic that it takes me a while to come to a decision. On the other hand, I've been faced with some pretty major, life-altering decisions as of late. And that's when making a decision becomes absolute agony for me. I don't know why, but I can't seem to help it. Maybe it's because I have this fear of making the wrong choice.
I've always been the sort of person who likes to have life planned out. And I had a plan...up until college graduation. But ever since then my future has been gapingly wide open. Frightening.
What to do? Grad school? Peace Corp? Foreign Service? Become an expert bagger slashy grocer at TJs? Become an administrative assistant, and waste away countless hours in front of a computer searching the web in between making copies, answering phones, and running random errands? Tempting, but no.
After many anxiety-ridden sleepless nights, and countless hours of prayer, I've finally decided what I'm going to do...
I'm moving back to Taiwan!
Back to Berhan, back to my amazingly cute kids.
"But you just got back!" you may say. It's true. I did. But it feels right. It is right.
The Lord works in mysterious ways, and through my experience here in DC I've learned how the Lord is acutely aware of me and my situation. Honestly, it would have been so much easier if He had told me what to do, but I've learned that's not His way.
Decision making is a blessing, even though it may seem like a blessing in deep, undercover disguise.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Heavenly...
I've had the opportunity to go to the Washington DC Temple quite a few times in the last month, and just so happened to be there this Tuesday night. The Temple has always been a place of peace, a place where I can receive answers to my prayers, a place where I overwhelmingly feel the love of my Heavenly Father. It has truly been a blessing in my life!We've had gorgeous weather in DC the past week or so, and I thought I'd take the opportunity to try to capture this glorious place. My camera just doesn't do it justice! If you're ever in the DC area, go see the Temple. It's truly amazing.
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