Slave Labour

 

The reason I managed to negotiate a job where none existed was down to one fairly significant detail. On this and every other occasion where I asked for a job, upon receiving the answer no, I would say something along the lines of;

“But, I am happy to work in exchange for only my bed, meals and the opportunity to ski.”

Termas De Chillan

This was a line which worked especially well with the ski centre's because they can provide this at very little cost. On this occasion it hit the spot and Juan, the head of HR, who duly offered me the job.

 Officially a citizen of Chile

As mentioned in a previous post this was on the basis of arriving back at the office with the correct visa paperwork. Que the story of the hitch-hike back to visaville and the week with the lovely Chilean family, priceless.

Well fed, rested and cared for I returned the week later, visa in hand, keen to find out the details of my soon to be life in the mountains.

Day one:

“what do you mean you have no place for me to stay?”

Un-freekin real... now he tells me they bus 90% of their staff up to the mountain every day!

“we had a deal, don't you realise I've just paid £300 for my freekin work visa?”

Up 'that creek' without paddle, I think just about describes the situation this put me in. Realising his mistake Juan then promised that he would do what he could to get something sorted.

Nugget.

Nugget's solution for the first night was a disused cabin that's water pipes had burst and therefore had an ice rink for a floor. Never mind the lack of electricity. Option for dinner that night was to sit in with the staff of a nearby hotel.

Livid; I recounted my predicament to the staff in their little dining room at the side of the hotel kitchen*. Quite rightly shocked, one of the girls went straight to their boss and bingo.

Bagged me a hotel room for the first night. Rags to riches.

Day two:

Started by feeling like a proper migrant worker; backpack stored in the office while I stand at the bottom of the ski lift like a monkey, checking tickets.

Juan continued with his assurance that a solution would be found and called me to the office for 3pm where I received what was to be my only solution.

“I found you accommodation, I made a deal with the hotel you stayed in last night. If you work there from 6pm till 11pm (ish) six nights a week, for less than £1 an hour, they will give you accommodation and dinner.”

“are you joking?”

“no”

And there it was. Walk now and loose the money I had paid for the visa, or work both jobs, around 13hr/day, for the next month.

Almost 80 hours a week I 'worked', in two jobs, without an English speaker in sight. My Spanish is passable but if these jobs had been any more than monkey see monkey do. I might of struggled. Signing the contracts was certainly a giggle.

Saving Graces:

The pace of work was truly South American, although for a European to do that little was actually quite a strain on the brain. Take your turn at doing a bit then stand and watch.

It's just like you would imagine

Spinning it positively, I was being paid approx £1.17/hr** to stand on the hill and wait for it to snow so I could then take a day off. Thankfully I got to choose those and bagged the best powder skiing of my life so far.

Slavery - punctuated by a few golden moments

Additionally I managed around 5 runs each working day through the creation of nonsensical errands.

Multi-tasking. Clowning around whilst Fishing

* Remember this is all in bloody Spanish.

** Although if you subtract the cost of the work visa from my total earnings it was more like £0.31/hr.