Monday, November 3, 2008
Photos of New Zealand
There are more photos, beyond the few I selected of my hiking trip, available with the continued help of Google, here (http://picasaweb.google.com/HenryRScharf). Currently, there are two albums. One is of the hiking trip, the other is of a 16km walk I did in Auckland on my second day in the country.
Time and Leuven
I am going to leave behind the third-person voice I have been using, at least for the meantime, as it is beginning to feel worn out. It’s only anticipated purpose was to make my reading my blog feel a little less like one was reading my blog, and it isn’t really doing that anymore. Now it’s just making it hard to come up with a variety of subjects for my sentences besides ‘Henry’.
My expected duration here, I find, changes lengths in my head constantly, despite its normalcy on paper. Let me explain this strange sentence. What I mean is that sometimes, I am thinking in terms of months within a year, while sometimes I am thinking in terms of hours within a week, and the constant oscillation between the two perspectives is a little unseating. As a traveler, the month of February, when I will begin a 6-ish month tour of the south island in the form of outright hostel-style traveling, seems around the corner. Which makes me think, Gee I ought to save some money! but that only brings me to the time scale of a job seeker, when I am trying to use my minutes as efficiently as possible. I squeeze as many errands into my day as possible, and make every meal and trip as economical as possible. And yet, holding onto an extra dollar here and there, does that really impact my three months of savings?
I got a raise this week. This is probably due in a large part to the peculiar way in which I joined the staff of the Belgian Restaurant, Leuven. It began not with my employment actually, but with Joey’s. Joey was brought on board a few days before I, in fact he was the one who told me that there were still positions available. So for a period of a few days, Joey and I were both gainfully employed at Leuven, but during this time, Joey was growing increasingly unhappy with one of the managers, specifically the one with whom his schedule most overlapped, the owner of Leuven, Todd. Finally, the night before his 6:30am shift, he decided he’d had enough and the minimum-wage (with no tips, tipping is not common practice here) job wasn’t worth it. He called in and tendered his resignation immediately.
I had, at this time, successfully avoided all contact with Todd, the manager who provoked Joey’s abrupt retirement. Instead, Tony was the one nurturing me in the beginning, and anyone who has worked at Leuven will tell you that Tony is The Man. He is endlessly patient and forgiving, and delivers his thoughtful criticism without any of the exasperation and condescension that Todd includes with every heaping batch. Here’s how great Tony is: on day three I spilled a glass of red wine on a customer’s jacket and purse, ultimately shattering a glass, though thankfully, no one was hurt. As I emerged from the wreckage with a wet red rag and a terror stricken face, followed on my heels by a furious woman with two expensive white accessories now no longer white, Tony did the only thing that a good manager would, he simply let me off the hook. I disappeared from the situation, into another section of tables, and away from the mess of heated emotions and staining liquid that realistically I could do very little to repair. “Leave it to me, mate” and Tony was taking care of everything. He even talked to Todd, notorious for not understanding these sorts of things, leaving me out of the conversation completely. What could I offer to these people anyway? I’d happily have said “I’m sorry” indefinitely, but the value of these pitiful mutterings would only decreased to nothing quickly. Tony saw that this was simply something that happened sometimes, and that there was really nothing for it. Hey, what better reminder could I get to hold the goddamn tray flat? Too bad it was at the expense of an innocent Kiwi.
But that isn’t how I got my raise. The same day I spilled the world’s most potent red dye was the first day Joey didn’t show up for work. Tony was surprised at this, he being entirely ignorant of Joey’s brewing frustration with Todd, so he asked me if I knew what happened. I explained that Joey, like every employee who’d had a chance to tell me, didn’t care to work with Todd. I think Tony filled in the rest, that a minimum wage-paying job doesn’t have a lot going for it in a city where minimum wage-paying jobs are widely available if the manager sucks, and he presented this information to Todd. My raise, I believe, is due in part to what I’ve been referring to as a backlash of niceness. As it happens, Leuven is actually under a fair amount of stress right now, having lost many experienced employees in the past month, and relying heavily on new workers. Todd must have gathered that a little bit of extra generosity might be a worthwhile investment, and whom did he need to convince most to stick around? Me. Joey’s friend. Despite spilling a glass of wine, I have learned quickly, always show up on time, and work hard, and even more importantly, my impression of Todd was at least partly up for grabs. I got a warm handshake and a short speech about how a restaurant manager has to account for these sorts of things. “Just don’t make a habit of it,” he said, and all was forgiven. I was, until then, potentially responsible for the dry cleaning bill. A few more days of hard work, and me offering to come in on short notice to fill a morning shift and Todd decided to up my pay a buck an hour. Still a meager rate, and less than most temp jobs offer (I’m still searching for better pay), but a step in the right direction.
My expected duration here, I find, changes lengths in my head constantly, despite its normalcy on paper. Let me explain this strange sentence. What I mean is that sometimes, I am thinking in terms of months within a year, while sometimes I am thinking in terms of hours within a week, and the constant oscillation between the two perspectives is a little unseating. As a traveler, the month of February, when I will begin a 6-ish month tour of the south island in the form of outright hostel-style traveling, seems around the corner. Which makes me think, Gee I ought to save some money! but that only brings me to the time scale of a job seeker, when I am trying to use my minutes as efficiently as possible. I squeeze as many errands into my day as possible, and make every meal and trip as economical as possible. And yet, holding onto an extra dollar here and there, does that really impact my three months of savings?
I got a raise this week. This is probably due in a large part to the peculiar way in which I joined the staff of the Belgian Restaurant, Leuven. It began not with my employment actually, but with Joey’s. Joey was brought on board a few days before I, in fact he was the one who told me that there were still positions available. So for a period of a few days, Joey and I were both gainfully employed at Leuven, but during this time, Joey was growing increasingly unhappy with one of the managers, specifically the one with whom his schedule most overlapped, the owner of Leuven, Todd. Finally, the night before his 6:30am shift, he decided he’d had enough and the minimum-wage (with no tips, tipping is not common practice here) job wasn’t worth it. He called in and tendered his resignation immediately.
I had, at this time, successfully avoided all contact with Todd, the manager who provoked Joey’s abrupt retirement. Instead, Tony was the one nurturing me in the beginning, and anyone who has worked at Leuven will tell you that Tony is The Man. He is endlessly patient and forgiving, and delivers his thoughtful criticism without any of the exasperation and condescension that Todd includes with every heaping batch. Here’s how great Tony is: on day three I spilled a glass of red wine on a customer’s jacket and purse, ultimately shattering a glass, though thankfully, no one was hurt. As I emerged from the wreckage with a wet red rag and a terror stricken face, followed on my heels by a furious woman with two expensive white accessories now no longer white, Tony did the only thing that a good manager would, he simply let me off the hook. I disappeared from the situation, into another section of tables, and away from the mess of heated emotions and staining liquid that realistically I could do very little to repair. “Leave it to me, mate” and Tony was taking care of everything. He even talked to Todd, notorious for not understanding these sorts of things, leaving me out of the conversation completely. What could I offer to these people anyway? I’d happily have said “I’m sorry” indefinitely, but the value of these pitiful mutterings would only decreased to nothing quickly. Tony saw that this was simply something that happened sometimes, and that there was really nothing for it. Hey, what better reminder could I get to hold the goddamn tray flat? Too bad it was at the expense of an innocent Kiwi.
But that isn’t how I got my raise. The same day I spilled the world’s most potent red dye was the first day Joey didn’t show up for work. Tony was surprised at this, he being entirely ignorant of Joey’s brewing frustration with Todd, so he asked me if I knew what happened. I explained that Joey, like every employee who’d had a chance to tell me, didn’t care to work with Todd. I think Tony filled in the rest, that a minimum wage-paying job doesn’t have a lot going for it in a city where minimum wage-paying jobs are widely available if the manager sucks, and he presented this information to Todd. My raise, I believe, is due in part to what I’ve been referring to as a backlash of niceness. As it happens, Leuven is actually under a fair amount of stress right now, having lost many experienced employees in the past month, and relying heavily on new workers. Todd must have gathered that a little bit of extra generosity might be a worthwhile investment, and whom did he need to convince most to stick around? Me. Joey’s friend. Despite spilling a glass of wine, I have learned quickly, always show up on time, and work hard, and even more importantly, my impression of Todd was at least partly up for grabs. I got a warm handshake and a short speech about how a restaurant manager has to account for these sorts of things. “Just don’t make a habit of it,” he said, and all was forgiven. I was, until then, potentially responsible for the dry cleaning bill. A few more days of hard work, and me offering to come in on short notice to fill a morning shift and Todd decided to up my pay a buck an hour. Still a meager rate, and less than most temp jobs offer (I’m still searching for better pay), but a step in the right direction.
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