Well, I haven't written anything in a while, so I suppose
upon writing again I should update my loyal readership as to my life. I've finally
started a security job. I work two night shifts and two evening shifts: a
"swing shift" as they call it. It'll be odd to get used to at first,
but I think it'll be fine. The job is easy. Especially today: with the holiday.
I have to do some patrols, but added up, all the patrolling I have to do would
take less then 2 hours. What do I do the other 8 (11!), you ask? Nothing...
Well, I have to let the newspaper people and the cleaners in, but today they
didn't even show up. So I sat there all night. I think I'm going to be getting
a lot of reading done at this place. I'm mostly just there in case of emergencies,
which almost never happen. One of the people who trained me has worked there
for 3 years, and has never had to do any of the emergence procedures.
Which brings me to my next topic. It seems to me that 80% of the security
industry are 1st generation immigrants. Another 15% are people like me and
Coker, who have no real education, but poses a base amount intelligence and
charisma, while the remaining portion is made up of ex-police/military who are essentially
retired but still want an income with little responsibility.
I have had the chance recently to speak at length with a handful of this immigrant
population, and these people seem to hold an amazing quality noble humility.
For example, one man who trained me, Hassid, was telling me about his home. He
has been in
for about 5 or 6 months, and working at this place for about 3. He is from
When he was there he was a major in the army. He told about how the military in
his country was different then it is here. If you are in the military, your
community knows you, and respects you for your position. He said it’s not an
easy job, you are on call 24 hours a day, but you are treated with dignity and
respect because of you position. Let me tell you, when he was saying these
things, he was glowing. He obviously loved his country and his life there. “And
now I am the night guard of a bank,” He said to me. “It is OK though.” He went
on to explain how he was content here providing for his wife. Of course, I
asked him why he left his country. Apparently the government was taken over, and
he “didn’t agree” with this new government. He had to flee the country or die.
That morning, he introduced me to the site supervisor Ghai. “We
were in the same army!” he said proudly, “He was leaving when I was still a
trainee though.” Apparently he had been quite a high ranking officer. He
answered the obvious question, “My daughter has a career now, something to do
with computers, and my son: he’s a trader, like the ones in this building. I am
content here knowing that they can be successful.” I couldn’t help but admire
him for what he had done; he’d given up his life in his home country for his
children.
I spoke with another man, while I was at the generic Paragon
training. I had noticed him switching languages while he was talking to people
(because there were all sorts of different first languages in the room). At
lunch time, he approached me, and greeted me by name. Amazed that he knew my
name, I commented that I unfortunately did not remember his. He told me he was
good with names, and listed off the names of every person in the room, who he
had just been introduced to a couple of hours ago. Amazed, I asked him what he
did in his home country. He was a doctor. I also found out that he was fluent
in 4 languages, not including the various dialects of Hindi and Mandarin that
he spoke. And then he leaned in close, and lowered his voice. “I’m a Jehovah’s
Witness. The name thing helps a lot. I can call people by name from the pulpit,
it makes them feel special.” This man was getting the same job as I was.
I don’t really have a conclusion to all this. I suppose I
just felt it a shame to keep the knowledge of these characters to myself. Or
maybe it’s all to encourage you not to underestimate salesman who you can’t
understand, or the telephone operator who gets a little frustrated because you
can’t understand her. Or maybe I simply wish I had that kind of noble humility.
Aron
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