When The First World Becomes The Third World

I remember, back in the early 2000 when I was in Lima, how hard was to find a job there. As a historian student and later as a historian, the labour market was already miserable. Even people with liberal careers like lawyers or engineers were unemployed. I was part of the pathetic statistic.

My first job was working for a sociologist. I had to read books or searching specific information about education. Well, it was about how feminine gender was seen or perceived in elementary school books. It was very interesting and bad paid. I remember my boss; she was a left-wing feminist who worked in a very important university in the capital. I thing she was one of the first persons I said I was gay. The funny thing was most of her feminist friends were lesbians too.

After that job I worked for a crazy woman who worked in projects related to delocalization. I almost earned nothing. And, what’s more, she treated me like shit. I’m a person with a low self-esteem, but still, I had pride to leave that place.

Years later, I moved here in Montreal. I took me 5 months to find my first job. I applied everywhere, pharmacies, libraries, call centers, banks, and many others I don’t remember right now. Most of the employers asked me for a Canadian experience…but how? I’ve just landed in the country. This first job was at the National Library, it was the second time I applied and I was accepted. I had an interesting salary but living with my ex just left me around less 500$ in my bank account. When I decided (well, when she manipulated to go with her to Peru for helping her in her project) to leave the library, I took me 3 months to find my second job. And it was through an agency. I was supposed to work for 3 weeks and I stayed 10 months there. That was my first experience in a federal office…and I loved it. I made friends and good colleges. When I left and real hell was waiting for me.

I had 2 jobs after that. It’s passed 1 month and I found the third job and will start this Monday. It’s bad paid and for 4 weeks, after that, again, I have to look for another job. I must say I was quite disappointed and frustrated with my future. The same sensation when I was in Lima I feeling it today. After the last day of work, the stress, the questions about my future, the confidence in the capabilities, my pride, everything goes to the garbage. I should say it goes to the incertitude. Nothing is taken for granted. Just in Montreal, 25 000 jobs were lost. Once again, I make part of a sadistic statistic. It seems for suffering all this again, I didn’t need to travel so far to find the same results.

In just two months, the job offers reduced in about 60%, I realized that when I was making my research for myself, even with agencies the scene was the same. The economical crisis is hitting us hardly.

I saw this afternoon on tv, that Montreal is, after New York, the most important city of destination for tourist looking for spectacles, bars, sex and gay attractions. With all that, I don’t go out. I prefer not spend money, pay my bloody taxes and live a monk’s life: boring, I know, it’s boring. That was the root of my desperation last week. Not to know where you’re going. Well, you try to go to a specific place but the ways are against you. Like me, trying to find a federal job in this moment, dreaming of leaving this town and look for a new life outside, around the capital. People tells me to be confident about life…I’m losing my temper lately. I was losing my faith. But a good friend of mine wrote me that even in your darkest moments God never leaves me…despite looks the contrary. If this is a lie, I’ll believe it blindly. And I must believe in myself.

How many times I wanted give up. I can’t counter it. A thousand times I guess. Oh God, let me believe in a future, or at least, to have a bit of hope for finding it up.

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