The Deadly Yellow Fever

I wish CWY told me what cities I was going to. I may not know about the geographic division system in Mali, but I certainly know that Quebec has cities. Actually, whatever community I'm going to in Mali, it probably won't be the size of a city. I read somewhere that they like to send participants to small communities.

I looked up Yellow Fever, which, if you remember, is the only required vaccination. Apparently, this is the definition for Mali's most troubling disease:

"Asian fetish is a slang term which usually refers to an interest, attraction or preference for people, culture, or things of Asian origin by those of non-Asian descent.[1][2][3][4] The term Asiaphile is sometimes used to describe the same phenomenon as is yellow fever.[5][6]"

Funny, I would've thought I'd need this vaccination if I were going to Asia...

Nah, it actually is a disease transmitted through mosquito bites which causes fever, nausea and pain, and usually subsides in a few days. There's a small chance of a toxic phase which can cause liver damage and jaundice. Well, at least I think that's the definition they were talking about. I got both those definitions...

I have told surprisingly few people about CWY. I've written about it on this blog (two consistent readers) and I've posted on my Twitter (two consistent readers) but I haven't pulled out the big guns... FB and email. I've told my family, a family friend, and an old coworker. That's it. I don't know why. I feel like I've already had my taste of adventure, that I'm selfish to ask for more, that I'm ditching everyone, and that I'll be asking for more now that the romance of me striking out on my own has passed. But I've got to make the announcement.

I have the worst signature. It's a sloppy, awkward mess of swirls and jags. I developed my signature in elementary school in an art class. My teacher thought it was superb. I used it for awhile and it stuck, and I don't feel like I can really change it at this point. Oh well, at least it'd be really hard to forge!

Remember when I said that I seemed underqualified to be holding these machine operating positions? Well, recently, somebody asked me what I did. I told him, and it turned out he was an engineer. He continued to question me on the specifics, and I had an answer for everything. Eventually, he asked me where I received my education. He seemed confused when I said "Nowhere!"

There are machine operating courses, BTW. You can get degrees in it. It explains why people are so much more into there work here than the people on assembly were. Sometimes you only appreciate something if you have to work to get it.

I find that, a lot of time, guys can get a little TOO into their work around these machines, though. I remember the first time, way back at my first plant, coming back from Katimavik, when I was put on unloading, inspection, and gauging at a machine, I was pushing the gauge into the parts too hard, and it was causing the parts to get damaged. My trainer came over to me, and told me that the parts were like a woman, and that I was hurting her.

Pretty effective training technique. The rest of the day, I felt like people were watching me and criticizing my lovemaking techniques. I also felt like a huge jerk for having damaged the parts, so I was extra-careful from thereon in.

I thought that was a creative way to motivate someone to pay attention to their job, but when I went back to the machine, a guy swung by just to relate with me on the joys of gauging those parts. He said "Nice and tight, right? Like VAGINA!"

Well, it's a factory, so everything's going to be related to sex. And besides, maybe it's just this station, right? Well, at both these last machine shops, it's been the same way. Guys always throwing down double entendres about their machines. Every trainer relates them to women, and it's not done just as a training device. Not only that, but you should see how protective these guys get of their machines, and how much effort they put into treating them right. If a supervisor tells them to pass parts that the worker doesn't feel are optimal, they'll freak out, even though they're not being paid by the part, and their job isn't at risk. I've seen many times guys stand up for the honour of their machine. Guys, go home and spend that much time on your wives.

I don't get it, honestly. If anything, I resent the machines a little. If a supervisor told me to sledge hammer one of them, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

But recently, I got the "like a woman" spiel FROM a woman! Aw, crap. Now even more of my pride is on the line...

I got to do my first bit of sparring in Karate a couple days ago. It was against a blackbelt, so obviously I was slaughtered. He kept analyzing my attack pattern, figuring out my favourite kick, and my favourite combo... I didn't know I had favourites. I was using the roundhouse more than other moves because he was weaving back and forth and I wanted to cover as much area as I could, just to increase my chance of landing any hit at all. And I kept using a light blow to create an opening followed by a more decisive one because that's all I know, basically. If I blocked, I could take two shots from him but get hit on the third, because you block with your arms, but you attack with two arms and a leg. Two blocks vs three blows. You come out losing. I tried dodging, but I kept getting backed in a corner. I tried charging, and I kept getting countered! Oh well, that's how you start. Especially fighting a blackbelt. I got two blows in, in the entire session, but one turned out to be an illegal move, and on the other one, I hit too hard. I only hit that hard because at that point, I didn't actually believe I'd ever land a hit.

But it was good. The guy gave me some sparring gear for free.

Some CWY Ponderings

Okay, so Mali is one of the 25 poorest countries in the world. The Sahara Desert runs through it, and the climate ranges from "desert" to "semi-desert". It's 90% Muslim. The official language is French. The food there usually consists of rice, millet, sauces made from leaves, and sometimes strips of meat.

I have to get a Yellow Virus vaccination, but they also recommend Tetanus and diphtheria, Poliomyelitis, Measles, Hepatitis B, Hepatitis A, Typhoid, and Meningococcal meningitis. I think I have Tetanus and diphtheria.

Other than that, and the fact I need 4 passport photos, there doesn't seem to be any more costs.

The woman who works at the station next to me is from West Africa. At my first Linamar branch, I worked with someone from South Africa. When I was in Katimavik, two people from a region of Africa that I can't remember did a speech for us at our rotation camp, moving from Thunder Bay to Chisasibi. They spoke to us about their culture, and what it was like adapting to ours.

I know you can't take an entire continent, and say that knowing this one culture was this way, means that you know what you're going into, but it's all I got, sooo...

These guys... They said that cows were huge culturally. Everyone owns cows, and they all roam freely. They have markings so people know whose cows are whose, but nobody owns land. They were all named after cows. Like, the one guy's name meant "brown horned cow" and the other guy's meant "cow with brown back". They said they danced for their cows. And not like "I'm dancing, give me a cow" but rather, "Hello cow, would you like to watch me dance?". And dancing was huge for them, too.

Also... A guy who travelled Africa, who did a speech at my high school said that, even if they have poor resources, their quality of life is far higher. He said that everyone is always happy. They'd tell him that us Canadians, with our food, water, and money, must always be so happy. But it wasn't true.

I leave for Mali the day after my birthday. Meaning, my last day in Quebec is going to be my B-day.

I remember one of the people at the meeting said almost all they ever ate while they were travelling abroad was beans and rice. I know that beans and rice are staples over much of the world. I didn't see anything about beans, but it looks like I may be in for a similar experience.

I am really scared right now, okay? I'm more scared for this than I was for Katimavik, and even if I want to do it, I feel I have more regrets about leaving this time than I did for Katimavik.

Before Katimavik, I couldn't find work, and while I had some pretty cool experiences during my stint of unemployment, that's not the kind of life you want to maintain. As I leave this time, I've got a job and, if not a clear idea of where I want to go, a clearer one at any rate.

Buuuut, I know I wanted to do this when I had a clearer head than the one I have now, and the call for adventure is overwhelming. My current goal is to stay so busy that I don't have time to be scared. So far I've been doing a pretty good job of that. Cover your fear and stress with lesser, more immediate fears and stresses.

Accepted Into CWY

Oh wow... Oh wow... Oh... oh. I uh... just received my confirmation email for CWY... Leaving June 28, first station in Quebec, second station in Mali. They didn't say what the program focus was.

Bunch of Stuff

I ran into a coworker from my last workplace the other day. I told her that I had been fired, but had been hired inside 15 minutes at the big plant for the same company, doing the exact same job. Know what she said? She said that I hadn't been fired... I'd been transferred. She said they sometimes do this when they need someone with a certain skillset at another branch... Instead of training someone new, they send over someone who already has the capabilities.

I don't know if this is true or not, but I guess it does make certain sense. I still don't like that guy I blamed for my last firing, though.

I don't really want to throw down all my theories about the underground mechanisms of Guelph's savior company from the recession... Since it's all conjecture, I feel I have a right to speak openly, but still... It's not like I think this company has shown me any kindness or loyalty, but if I didn't feel that my life had improved because of it, I would have quit. So I don't see the sense in ragging on them too badly, because they've done me overall good, and also, for the off chance that someone influential might read my ranting.

I'm wondering about the ethics of putting all my experience with this company under one section on my resume. It'll be difficult putting the last two branches side-by-side, because I had the same tasks for both of them, and putting so many short-term jobs in a row doesn't look as good as having one longer, consistent placement.

I've been toggling between $1500 and $2000 in my savings lately... I made it up to $1500 fairly quickly, but I can't seem to get much headway since. I took a look at my earnings... and if I take the net pay of a month as being four weeks of 40 hours of work... And subtract what I spend on rent, phone, Karate, bus, and cab fare... I STILL have more than half what I make! So I don't get it... I don't spend much on myself, and I usually do more than 40 hours anyway... But I think it's all the little things... Transfer shifts and you lose a shift... I transferred three times inside two weeks, so that's 24 hours lost... I had those two weeks unemployment... I had that surprise CWY meet, where I had to spend on Greyhound, and that $9 BURGER!!! I got my haircut... Etc.

I couldn't get my timesheet signed for last week... I couldn't find my supervisor. I found two others, but while the sheet says any supervisor can sign for it... Well, one of them said they hadn't been there all week, so they couldn't verify the times, and the other said that I needed my direct supervisor to sign for it.

This'll be fun to explain to the agency... It's not the first time it's happened. At my last place, sometimes supervisors wouldn't show up for overtime... Happened to me twice. Agency tends to blame you for it, "We'll do our best, but don't let it happen again!"

It's been over two weeks now since the CWY meet, and I haven't been contacted. I think this means that I haven't been set for the default groups headed out in June. It was probably a mistake to put myself as "Open". They try to put everyone where they prefer, so what do you do with your wild card? You hold it in reserve.

June had the second-highest number of groups heading out at once. I figure they might call on me at the last minute as a replacement for someone who got cold feet at the last second, which tends to happen... or I'll be placed in a group for the last month leaving this year... September. If that happens, I'm a little irked, because that college course starts in September, and I don't know how I feel about giving CWY, a shorter, less credited program, priority.

I'd like to say that CWY's participants were a lot more multicultural. There were a lot of second-generation Canadians who were joining because they wanted to visit the homeland of their parents. In the Katimavik application, one of the questions was whether or not you were a part of a visible minority. But when you got inside the program... There were only three people in a visible minority, in all the five groups we'd seen. Strangely, they were all also in the same group, and two of them dropped out.

I won a free coffee the other day. I also forgot my bus pass. Bus fare was more expensive than the coffee, so I lost money overall, but I was so freaking blitzed over the coffee, you don't even know. It's a matter of pride: I won, Time Hortons lost. So there. Pro tip: When you when a free coffee at Tim Hortons, you get the X-large Cafe Mocha. That's the most expensive thing you can get with it. I don't care if you feel like a dandy, or you don't like Cafe Mocha... It's a matter of principle.

Besides, I only had to pay half the bus fare... On my way to work, the bus driver recognized me, and when I tried to put in my change, he told me not to worry about it and let me on for free! That was almost worth the $2.75 overall bus fare I paid that day.

You know what the part name is for the machine I work with now? Driven. Isn't that stupid? I thought driven was a verb, not a noun. I feel like a fool saying "Yeah, I make drivens."

Plus, we have a platform next to us with the unfinished drivens, and it has a big sign saying "Driven Raw". That sounds less like a factory station, and more like a porno.

I think I'm doing all right here. They had me running my own machine the other day. When one supervisor asked me to bring down a couple of parts to gauge, he moaned and said "I came." When another supervisor came by and asked me how many parts I'd made, she clapped me on the back and told me I was beautiful. So I... think these are good signs.

First Day at the Big Plant

The new job is in a factory right next to my old one, and it's almost exactly the same task. Just like when I transferred from one machine to the next last time, this one has the same premise, but different specifics. So I'm going back into training.

There's a Tim Hortons right nearby. I think they position themselves so that all factories have one immediately available. Remember how I complained that these places offered nothing special, and that the patriotism surrounding them was foolish? Well, I've grown to consider the quality of a job dependant on it's proximity to a Timmies. I don't know what it is about them.

Yo, if you're ordering a sandwich there, get the chicken salad. It's the best bang for your buck.

Anyway, I'm meeting another coworker there before work tomorrow. It's how we did things at my first factory. I'm thinking that, if it's the closest coffee shop to my old location as well, I might be able to run into some old friends from my last workplace.

This new place is so pretty, yo. It's got all this curvy glass, and at the front, they have this huge rock garden/manmade pond ensemble. I wasn't sure if it was really okay for the likes of me to just walk through the entrance, it was so attractive.

But I was, and when they gave me my PPE... Well, the earplugs were so swag. I had another pair, which I got from a guy at my first factory after coming back... I don't remember if I told you guys, but he went to the same high school as me, and we saw each other every day, but because we both looked completely different at that time, neither of us recognized each other at first.

Anyway, he gave me some real nice earplugs... Washable, and a better fit for the ear. He gave all the temps earplugs like this. But after he left, I lost my pair.

Every branch seems to have different PPE designs. At my first branch, we had these foam earplugs, connected with a string. At my second, they wouldn't shell out for a string.

But these new earplugs are better than even the gift of my old friend. They have every advantage of my old pair, but the string is made of a better material, and the plugs are directly attached to the string.

New machine is better than the last ones, too. If something goes wrong, it actually tells you, in plain English on the screen. No more judging based on how exploded a part is. Also, if you try and run it despite the flashing command on screen, it won't let you. And not only will it tell you what problem you have... It also tells you how to fix it.

No more judging based on a number on a gauge, followed by analyzing a blinking light pattern, followed by a memorized code based on the light pattern. If something screws up, this machine will tell you what happened, how to fix it, and it won't let you make a mistake.

So far, these machine operating jobs have been becoming easier by the task.

Working Tomorrow

Well, whatever story surfaced about me, it has been set. I tried to sleep through the shift, but didn't quite make it. I don't so much mind being fired as I do that my former coworkers might hear lies about me. I shared my side of the story to only one other person...

Honestly, the only reason I'd want to swing by and return my stuff is so I could see my old friends and try to clear my name... But y'know... If they knew me well enough that I should care about our relationship, they won't buy into false stories like that, and if they didn't know me that well... It shouldn't really matter, because they didn't really know me. Well, that's how I should feel, but it's hard to convince myself.

I just updated my resume, and it kind of irritates me to look at it. I have five factory positions, and I'm about to get another one. To keep it all on one page, I took off my general labour and light landscaping stuff I was just doing for random people. I'm sure I did more of that than the first two factory jobs I did, pretty near to when I finished high school, but on a resume, if you can put an official company name, I think that looks more impressive than saying you did chores for a bunch of friends. Now my resume doesn't have anything on it that isn't connected to an official organization or program.

My new job starts tomorrow at 8 AM. If nothing else, look at how employable I am now, eh? And the pain of tedium and slow deterioration as you burn away your life in return for money is less than the pain of shame, poverty, and guilt that came with unemployment.

My new job is at the main Linamar location. Maybe all this was like a promotion, hey?

After CWY, or if I don't do it, I'll probably go to college. If I don't think of anything else, I'll do that course for becoming a support worker. I did some research, and there's a one-year course that costs under $3000, that's in the city, and I know someone who's gotten a job through it. And if there's any time beforehand, maybe I'll go work for the wolfman in Chisasibi for a month. If it's not a perfect plan, it's gotta be better than staring like a deer in the headlights.

Lost Another Job

This one feels personal. This factory is known for hiring anybody. Everyone said I was a shoe in. I was the only guy that got fired, and five weeks is past the introductory stage, but before they'd have to make a decision based on whether or not they wanted to give me benefits, so it's a weird time to go. I asked the agency what the reason was, and they said the company only said they "didn't feel I was a good fit".

I think I know why it happened. My coworker and trainer for the new machine... Urg.. I'm not going to name names, but I'm going to strain my privacy policy just for this man. It's still hard to talk about, but it's also hard not to, if that makes sense.

Well, this guy was a middle-aged man and a master of the puppy dog face. He had no ambition in life other than to please authority. People weren't generally aware of his existence. When I first met him, I believed he was the sweetest, purest, most innocent man I'd ever met in my life. He spoke very little English and I don't think he was interested in training anyone. He never taught me how to put any of the inserts, or how to do the OPC, or how to fill my QB card. The first day I worked with him, I did one incredibly easy job. The next, I did a different one. On the third day, I did both jobs at once, and also, two more that were more difficult and which he never taught me how to do. It's a good thing I already knew them from the other station, but he didn't know that.

If I asked him a question, instead of answering me, he'd more likely do the job for me. And not just do that job, but every job until we were through with that part. And he never repeated himself. Whenever he asked me to do anything, he would say "Will you please" first. Probably buy me coffee, too.

All this makes you think that he was just shy. Probably self-conscious about his English, and not wanting to be the one to tell me to do anything I didn't want to do. I'm not going to harsh on him too badly for being an ineffective teacher. That's sort of a branch skill you don't usually need for a factory job. The only person I'd harsh on for that is a teacher.

But after awhile... you began to saw that his need to be seen as a "good boy" in the eyes of the authority could come off as kind of selfish. For instance, one time he dropped a gauge. It stopped working, and he asked me to go ask the lead hand to fix it. It's not like the lead hand was very far off, or that he was busy and needed to keep working, but rather, he wanted it to look like I did it.

Well, I thought that was kind of a dick move, but since he'd been there longer, it looks worse for him to make a mistake like that, so I covered for him.

One day, he told me we'd leave half an hour early. I thought it was out of character for him, so I asked him twice to confirm that's what he meant. He was closing in on the end of a 12 hour shift. There was a bug going around and I think he'd been feeling under the weather since the beginning. He looked dead on his feet. I didn't want to be the wet blanket that told him no. I got my coat, my backpack, and my QB card. I asked for his help filling out the card, just so that there is truly no misunderstanding based on language, and he'll see exactly what I'm doing. I had put down my time accurately on the card, but I saw he'd put down his full twelve. I do half of the same job as him, so we have to stop working at the same time. If we put down contradicting times, I'm selling him out. I ask him what to put down, and he tells me eight hours (he worked his first four hours with the other guy who does my job).

So I go and put my QB card, and I run into the supervisor. I thought that might happen. If you're going to skip out, don't do it so late in the day. There's no supervisor for Nights... It was the Day Shift supervisor. He goes, "You're leaving already?" I say "Yes" He says "Why?" I say "He told me to".

Supervisor sounds satisfied with that and dismisses me. Wasn't much else for me to say. Soon as I was caught, there was pretty much no way to protect my coworker. I can feel my false QB card itching, but I can't do anything, because it's already been submitted.

Next day, my trainer approaches me:
Him: Why you leave early?
Me: You told me to.
Him: No.
Me: Okay, I believe you didn't mean to. It must have been a miscommunication.
Him: No.
Me: I'm sorry, I mean, we didn't understand each other.
Him: No.
Me: I asked you twice.
Him: No. Supervisor ask me why you leave early. I don't know. I come back and you're gone. I don't know where you go.
Me: I'm sorry, I don't want you to get in trouble for my misunderstanding. Do you want me to talk to the supervisor and tell him it was my mistake?
Him: Don't talk supervisor. I'm not in trouble anymore. You have to work eight hour. You work only seven.
Me: Seven and a half.
Him: No. Why you go home early? I never told you to go home early.
Me: We didn't understand each other. I think you say go home early, but it's not true. I ask you twice if I go home early, but you don't understand me.
Him: No. I never tell you go home early. You never ask me go home early.
Me: Are you calling me a liar?
Him: No.
Me: Do you think I would leave if you told me not to?
Him: No.
Me: So we didn't understand each other.
Him: No.
Me: Are you saying I'm lying?
Him: No.
Me: I ask you twice.
Him: No. You have to work eight hour. You only work seven.
Me: Seven hour, thirty minute.
Him: No. Why you go home early? I never tell you go home early. You never ask me go home early.
Me: You ask same question, you get same answer.

So he kept asking me the same questions, and getting the same answers, until the bell rang for work to start. He spoke to the other guy who does that job, telling the story like it's a joke, and in his version. All throughout the day, he keeps reminding me to work eight hours, and to stay in the factory. And he's real nice about it. He buys me coffee, speaks even more formally when making requests...

Aaaaaand the next day is inventory. And guess what? It's not just the time on my QB card that's wrong, but also the part production, because he worked a twelve hour shift whereas I only worked eight. He told me to put down the same number as him.

Sooo, don't you think it's a little suspect that the one day he gets me to put the wrong number, the next day is inventory, and he knows this but doesn't tell me?

The man wants to be alone. He doesn't want anyone but authority to know of his existence. He wants to be a good boy for the higher ups. He doesn't mind sacrificing subordinates for his reputation.

In the eyes of my supervisor, he had to decide weather it was me or him that was lying. And with that guy's habit of widening his eyes, and staring at you pleadingly, just looking for a bit of understanding... That puppy dog look he'd fix on the lead hand every time he broke something and wanted it understood that it wasn't really his fault... That look he fixed on ME every time he responded "No" in that dialogue up there... Well, to my supervisor, he probably saw me as a guy who cut out early, tried to take credit for more parts than I did, and when I was caught, I threw this sweet, innocent old man under the bus. I'd probably hate me, too.

And now, tonight, there's going to be word on the factory floor, when my previous coworkers look to my station and see it empty. They'll look for an answer, and you just know something's gonna catch, and I don't know what it's gonna be. That... drives... me... CRAZY!

But heeeeey, guess what? I have a pair of their reusable gloves. I have a key for my lock to the robotic arm. Maybe they'll need that back, but I doubt it. They probably have a copy. I've got a stamp, too, to signify which parts I've done. Even if they don't ask for them back, maybe I'll swing by and offer them.

I've got a new job, though. Agency offered it fifteen minutes after they told me I was fired.

Thing about Linamar is, they've single-handedly pulled Guelph out of the recession. They have seven branches and work through an agency. This means that if they lay you off after three months, you won't stop working for them. You'll just get rotated to another branch. In this way, you can work permanently for Linamar as a temp.