Mennonite Curiosity

Continued from Those Mexican Mennonites!

As George attempted to explain the meaning of bear with me, with no success whatsoever, there was a knock at the door. On his way to answer the door, he pulled his fingers through his hair again. I could tell he was so frustrated that he was tempted to swear. I could almost see the F’s flying around above his head but he was trying so hard to keep his swearing to a minimal under control around me.

He opened the door and it was Bree. She was all happy and in a good mood. She had a new piercing again, this time on her tongue. As George was making dinner, Bree and I looked through his CDs and I found my favorite one: Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill. I had heard a few of the songs on my alarm clock radio and I loved them. I had planned to buy that CD after I bought a VCR.

She asked if I would like to listen to that one and I said, “Yes!” She put it on. George came into the living room with a beer for Bree. He looked surprised that I had chosen that CD, “I figured you would only listen to, church music or something,” George said.

Bree rolled her eyes, shook her head at him, and said, “George, you shouldn’t always say what you think.”

“Ahh shit, I know, sorry Anna. Okay, let’s eat!” He said.

He made Mr. Doodles with cheese whiz and hot dog slices in it. George said, “This is my favorite, I hope you like it.”

Bree gave him a really strange look and said, “Really, George? This is your favorite? That’s bullshit.”

He just smiled and grabbed his fork. I bowed my head, put my hands together, and in my head said the High German prayer that I memorized when I was two or three years old. When I was finished, I looked up and caught them looking at each other and then looking at me. I felt really awkward.

It reminded me of when I was little and our neighbor’s kids in Mexico used to come over to play, house. We would all sit around a little table to have, pretend faspa. My sisters and I would say our prayer and because they didn’t know what to do, they just counted to ten in Spanish. They only knew a few words of Low German and they spoke Spanish because their dad was native Mexican.

Bree asked, “What language do you say it in and how often do you say it?”

George looked at Bree and shook his head.

I told him that it was okay and I would try my best to explain it. I said, “But I think it is going to go just like earlier when you tried to explain the meaning of, how to bear with someone.”

Bree gave George a strange look again. They both started laughing and then Bree asked, “What are you talking about, Anna?”

“I have no idea,” I answered and began telling her that I say a prayer before and after a meal, when I go to bed, and when I wake up in the morning.  I say them all in High German. I knew all four by memory ever since I could remember and that it was something I had done my whole life.

Bree asked, “So you don’t tell God how you feel or about a thing that you wish for? You tell him the same thing every time you pray?”

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“Yes, I think so. Well, all four of them are different. The one I say before a meal is different from the one I say after a meal,” I answered.

“So you speak Low German and High German?” Bree asked.

“Well, sort of. Where I grew up, we spoke Low German but all the books that we learned from, like the Bible, the Testament, the catechism, prayer, and songbooks, were written in High German,” I answered.

Bree slowly rolled her eyes toward George to look at him without turning her head and he just smiled and said, “Okay, that’s enough questions for now. Let’s eat.”  Bree was so confused and curious. I could tell she had a lot more questions.   

I grabbed my fork and took a bite but I had a really hard time swallowing it. 

“It’s okay, Anna. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it,” George said.

I told him it was good but I just wasn’t that hungry. I took a few more really small bites but I just couldn’t eat it. It was the grossest food I had ever tasted. I would never tell him that but it didn’t help that the knot-in-my-stomach feeling was taking up all the space in my stomach.

I got up and said, “I am gonna go home. Maybe Hilary will call me to say I can come back to work soon.” 

Bree rolled her eyes again and said, “You are still waiting for him to call you? Anna, you shouldn’t be working. You should be going to school.” 

I wondered how her eyes were still in her head after all that eye-rolling she did in such a short period of time.

I said, “No, I really want to work so I can buy a VCR and that CD that is playing right now.”

George said, “You know what, Anna? I can make you a tape of that CD if you like it so much. I will do it tonight and you can come over in the morning and pick it up. I’m not going to work tomorrow. I have to leave to go to court at eleven so, if you come between nine and ten, it will be ready.”

Bree rolled her eyes again and said, “Really, George, you are going to make her a tape?”

“Yes! Yes, I am, and what’s wrong with that?”

She laughed and said, “Oh, George, you are such a weirdo.” 

I wondered what the heck weirdo meant? But I wasn’t even going to ask. By that time, I had gotten a big headache from all that learning.

While walking through the hallway to my apartment, I was thinking how nice it was to know Bree and George. They made me laugh and kept my mind off the fact that I didn’t have a job again, at least for a little while. I just had to smile when I thought of them, it made me feel happy, at least for a moment.

When I got home I had one message but it was not from Hilary. It was from Mark, instead of being sad about that, I forced myself to just think about the fun time I had that night while I was getting ready for bed. Click here to continue reading my story.

Those Mexican Mennonites!

Continued from Sad Skinny Mennonite

I was working at the embroidery place and doing my best to follow the nurse’s orders after my visit to the walk-in clinic. I was just starting to eat a bit more, was feeling better, and began dreaming about buying that VCR again. Then it happened, again. At the end of my shift, I heard my name being called, “Anna Wall to the office. Anna Wall, please come to the office.”

There it was again. My heart dropped to the floor and I couldn’t breathe. It felt like no time had passed and it was Hilary’s office all over again. I was told that they were letting me go. This time there was no hope of being called back like Hilary had told me. I was done. They told me to get my stuff and go.

On my walk home, I was wracking my brain trying to figure out what had happened or what went wrong. I thought I was doing great.  They said I was doing a good job. I was so disappointed. I thought that maybe I should stop dreaming about buying a VCR because it just seemed to bring me bad luck. Maybe I was not supposed to buy one?

I stopped on the sidewalk at a highway overpass and looked down. The cars were flying by and everyone was in a hurry to get somewhere except me. What was I going to do now, sitting around again, thinking about everything day after day? I thought if this is it, this will be a long life. If I live as long as my grandma did, I have forty-four years left, since she died at the age of sixty-three.

The question crossed my mind, “Would that be a high enough drop if I jumped off?” But, as I stood there looking down, images of my mom’s face popped into my mind when she told me not to think so much and not so far ahead. I thought, “At this very minute, I have to just focus on putting one foot in front of the other and keep going until I get off the overpass.” If I could do that, what else might I be able to do?

Before I knew it, I was back at my apartment. I took off my shoes, got a glass of water, sat down on the floor, and drank it. I decided to take my mom’s advice and stop thinking so much, especially about the forty-four years I was thinking ahead. That was really hard for me. I just finished that thought and then I started thinking again.

I thought, “How the heck am I supposed to stop thinking when I have no one to talk to?” Or, I could just start talking to myself but, either way, I knew everything that was going on in my head had to come out one way or another. If I could talk about it to a person who would talk back, then maybe I would learn English faster and find the answer to what I was supposed to do next.

I went to check my mailbox to see if I had received a letter from my mom and there was George checking his mail. When he saw me, he said, “Hey, Anna, good to see you! How was the clinic visit?”

I started telling him but then I felt him thinking, “This is going to take a looong time!” Just as I finished that thought, he said, “Why don’t you come to my place and you can tell me all about it while I make us something to eat?”

I thought, ¨Oba nee, Anna, (Oh no Anna) don’t do it!¨ But, the other side of my brain thought, “Here is my chance. I can stop thinking and start talking.”

He could tell I was hesitant and said, “It’s okay, Bree is coming over too in a while.” So, I walked beside him through the hallway to his place, nervous as heck, hoping no one would see me and call my mom to tell her I was once again walking with a man with long hair and tattoos.

He opened the door to let me go in first. It smelled odd in his apartment. One wall was completely covered in a strange, yet beautiful, drawing of a woman who was covered only by her long hair. He had a big fish tank, a pond with turtles in it, and a huge glass box with lizards in it. It was really dark. Everything was black except for the carpet and some of the walls which were grey.

His place was clean, neat, and cozy with a lot of fluffy pillows on the sofa. Still, I felt scared. He had a few fearsome-looking statues that looked like wolves with big bat wings. I had never seen anything like it before. He noticed that I was staring at them, so he explained that they were gargoyles. He started telling me about them, but he lost me at the word gargoyle.

He said, “Have a seat and make yourself at home. You want something to drink? Pop, juice, a beer?”

“I will have some water, thanks.”

He went and got a glass of water from the kitchen and said, “Tell me how it went at the clinic. Is everything okay with you?” 

I told him what the nurse told me: To eat three times a day, not to be alone so much, talk to people and make friends.

¨Well, any time you want to talk I´d be happy to listen. Feel free to call me or come over anytime, it will help you practice your English more. I promise I won’t laugh.¨

I told him that I got laid off again and he said, “Ah, shit, no way. Did they at least pay you then?” 

“No, they didn’t say anything about paying me,” I replied.

After I explained to the best of my ability, George told me that he always thought there was something “fishy” about that embroidery shop.

“Fish?” I thought, ¨Now I find out they have fish too! I never saw the bear she talked about but maybe they feed the fish to the bears.¨

I caught myself, ¨I´m thinking too much again and told myself to stop it!¨

I didn’t even ask George about the fish or bears they may or may not have kept at that embroidery shop.

George said he heard that they do this a lot. They hire people who don’t speak a lot of English and then fire them and never pay them.  He said, “Someone has to do something about this! If it’s okay with you, I will go there and tell them to f*@ing pay you for the work you did. Grrr, it pisses me off when people take advantage of … umm … other people.”

He caught himself before he described me in front of me. He wasn’t sure how to say it. He was very careful about the words he chose. I probably wouldn’t have understood even if he told me exactly what kind of “people category” he would put me into.

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When I worked at the factory, I often overheard parts of conversations where people were talking about “those people.” Those that came to Canada with a big van full of kids, just for the summer, to work on the fields and then go back to Mexico for the winter. I was one of those, but I came without a van full of them.

I told George that it was okay if he called me a Mexican Mennonite. I didn’t even know if that was right or not, but that was what people in Canada called us. They must know because they must have read about it somewhere and they knew a lot more about a lot more than I did, that I was sure of. How could I be offended when I didn’t even know myself?

Back home, it was never clear either. I heard parts of conversations that suggested my great grandparents may have been born in Russia. All I knew was that I was born in Mexico and my grandparents were born in Canada. I knew that for sure because that was why I was able to become a Canadian Citizen.

The native Mexicans called us Menonitas but we never referred to ourselves as Mennonites.  All I ever heard was, “Wie senne dietscha” which translates to “We are German” and that is why we live like this. I was not sure if I was Russian, Canadian, Mexican, or even a Mennonite.

I told George that it was okay with me if he went to the embroidery place for me. He got up and said, “Better yet, you are coming with me.”

I told George that I was scared to go there because I thought they had bears and they might let them out if we make them mad.

“Why do you think that?” he asked.

I told him that they told me to “Bear with them,” at the interview. He pulled his fingers through his hair, sighed for a minute and then said, “Trust me, Anna, they do not have bears.”  I thought, “This man knows everything!” Click here to continue reading my story.

Sad Skinny Mennonite

Continued from Men-oh-Men!

I went to the walk-in clinic that George told me about. I asked the lady at the front desk if she wanted to see my SIN card.  She chuckled and said, “No, but I need to see your health card. What is the problem?” 

I explained, “Ahhh, I don’t know. My neighbor told me to come here because I’m losing my shape and I don’t feel hungry. I just feel nauseous all the time and I can’t sleep.” 

“Hmmm, take a number and have a seat. A nurse will be with you shortly,” She said.

I explained to the nurse how I was feeling, to the best of my ability. She asked me all kinds of questions I didn’t understand. I told her that I didn’t speak much English and that I was from Mexico. I got laid off from my job, I didn’t know how I would pay my rent, and I did not want to go back home to Mexico.

I told her that I thought I might have the same nerve problems that my grandfather did and that he hung himself. Some days I was really happy and other days I was extremely sad. I told her that I missed my family a lot, but that I had felt like this ever since I could remember, even while I was living at home.

Living at home, I didn’t worry about paying the rent or learning English but, rather, I worried about not being strong enough to live like all the Mennonite women had to in Mexico. I often thought about ending it before it even started.

She said, “Wow, ooookaaaay. Did you ever see a doctor about these nerve problems?” 

I told her that I had never really told anyone about this before, other than my mother, and she told me not to think so much, or so far ahead. She told me to just trust that my life would turn out as it was supposed to. I needed to just accept that and then I would be alright. I tried, but I just couldn’t do that.

The nurse told me that she didn’t have enough time that day but she wanted me to come back to tell her more about my nerve issues. She said she had never heard of this before but she was interested in learning more about it.

She took my blood pressure and a blood sample. I watched as the bottle filled with my blood and I almost fainted. She asked me to get up and step on the scale. When I got up, I had that same tingling cold sensation I felt after Hilary told me he was letting me go and felt my knees go weak. The nurse caught me and held me up for a bit until it passed.

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I stepped on the scale long enough for her to write down my weight. It was 94 lbs. She asked how tall I was. I had no idea. All I knew is that I was taller than my mother and my older sister. She got out a measuring tape and that was the day I found out I was 170 cm tall.

She left the room and came back with a bag of chocolate cookies and a bottle of water and said, “Eat these while I go see my next patient and don’t get up. Stay sitting.” I said, “Okay.” Across from where I was sitting was a shelf full of books. I was tempted to get one and look at the pictures in it and thought how nice it would be if only I could read.

My Low German thoughts told me to just do what the nurse told me to do. I forced down a cookie and drank some water. When the nurse came back, she said, “You need to make sure that you eat at least three times a day. You are going through a lot and you should talk to someone who can help you figure it all out. In the meantime, when you feel sad, you can come back and talk to me.”

She said, “I think you should go to school to learn English, make friends, and go out and have fun.” 

She gave me sheets of paper with ESL classes and 24-hour help phone numbers I could call. She also gave me all kinds of pamphlets that had pictures of really skinny sad-looking girls on them.

I thought, “What am I going to do with all this stuff?” I couldn’t read the pamphlets, or call any of the numbers she gave me. Even if I did, what would I say? I just took them and said, “Thank you.” Click here to continue reading my story.

Schowanacks-Owent

We called Halloween Schowanacks-Owent which translates to mischief/pranksters evening.

No matter how far away from mainstream society we lived or, as we called it, “the people of the world”, meaning non-Mennonites, we still knew about Halloween.  We hand carved a lot of pumpkins around this time of the year.  Most of us would have fields of them and we called them sot- kjarps, seed pumpkins.  We grew them only for the seeds and fed the rest to the pigs. 

 

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I came to Canada in July and, by the time October arrived, I had heard many people say that they love pumpkin pie or anything made from pumpkins to eat.  When I finally figured out that pumpkin was sot- kjarps, I thought, “Eeww, people in Canada make pie out of pig food!”

We did eat only one kind of kjarps and that was zucchini. Any other weird looking orange kjarps we did not eat.  I do not remember ever seeing squash or any other kind of kjarps in Mexico.

We had so many pumpkins that our mom didn’t mind if we made jack-o-lanterns out of them, as long as they were not scary looking.  We put candles in them at night and lit them up. I don’t know where we got those ideas but I imagine my grandparents brought ideas like these from Canada.

I remember hearing talks about Halloween being the devil’s night and we were not to participate in anything that had to do with that.  But that didn’t stop the youth from going out on Halloween night. In my colony, the youth boys would go out and light firecrackers on the streets of the colony on Halloween night. Some girls were allowed to go too, if they had brothers that would go out with them. We did not dress up in costumes since those were not allowed.

We would go door to door and say, “Do you have something for the Schowanacka (Pranksters)?” If they didn’t, they would get some kind of trick or prank later that night, in the form of some kind of damage to their property or opening the gates to let the cattle out.

Most people, even if they didn’t want to, would give something just to keep the peace.  

I remember getting a bottle of mezcal at one house and a block of Queso Mennonita Mennonite cheese at another.  Some people gave out cigarettes, bottles of coca cola, chocolate and candy. 

Dree Wajch Tweeback Däjch

Three Way Bun Dough

Ingredients for the dough:

5 cups of white flour

2 1/2 Tablespoons of yeast

2 Tablespoons of salt

1 1/2 Tablespoons of sugar

6 cups warm water

1 1/2 cups of vegetable oil

Mix all the dry ingredients together, add the water and oil and keep adding more flour until the dough is not too sticky. 

Put a towel over the dough and let it rise for 20-30 minutes.

After the dough has risen for 20-30 minutes sprinkle a bit of flour over the dough and knead the dough.

Let the dough rise again for another 20 minutes then it's ready to make the buns, pizza rolls, and cinnamon buns.

After you roll the buns and place them on a cookie sheet, cover them with a towel and plastic and let them rise for 20 minutes.

Bake them at 375 degrees until golden brown.

Pizza Rolls:

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

When the dough has risen, roll it with a floured rolling pin on floured surface to form a rectangle about 35 x 40 cm and a thickness of about 1.5 centimeters.

Spread pizza sauce, and sprinkle cheese, basil on top of rolled out the dough and roll it up.

Cut into pieces of about 1 inch, or however big or small you want it to be.

Place onto parchment paper on cookie sheet.

Bake at 400 degrees for 15-20 minutes. Enjoy!

Cinnamon Buns:

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

When the dough has risen, roll it with a floured rolling pin on floured surface to form a rectangle about 35 x 40 cm and a thickness of about 1.5 centimeters.

Sprinkle the rolled out dough with a 1/2 a cup of table cream and spread a mixture of 1 cup of flour and 1 cup of sugar and a tablespoon of cinnamon on and roll it up.

Cut into pieces of about 1 inch, or however big or small you want it to be.

Place onto casserole dish.

Bake at 375 degrees for 15-20 minutes or until golden brown.

Put your favorite icing or frosting on them. Enjoy!

Men-oh-Men!

Continued from Menno-applause

The next day I did get the call to start working at the embroidery shop. Just like that, I was back on top of the world again. A week of sewing was plenty of time to start dreaming about that VCR again and how I would dress if I wasn’t so scared my mom would find out. I wondered how everyone was doing at the Job Finding Club.

I knew how Mark was doing since he had called me every day since I started my new job. I had mentioned to him that I didn’t have much furniture for my apartment. He told me he had a TV stand and a love seat that he was getting rid of and he offered to bring it over and help me carry it up the stairs to my apartment.

I was excited about the TV stand, I was imagining my VCR on it. But, then, my Low German brain wouldn’t let me enjoy that thought. I started getting nervous and thought, “A man is coming to my apartment and he is bringing a LOVE seat over Dios Mio!” I was terrified of being alone with a man.

I thought of all the things that could happen and why they call a sofa a love seat. I got really scared and decided to call Bree. I asked if she could come over and stay with me while Mark was bringing the furniture. She couldn’t because she had a date with a hot guy, she said. She told me since George lived in the same building only a few doors down from me, it would make more sense for me to call him and ask him to drop by while Mark dropped off the furniture. 

While Bree gave me George´s phone number she noticed my hesitation about her idea, “Trust me, Anna, George would love to help, he is right there and he´s always home," Bree explained.

That didn’t ease my worries at all because I was still afraid of George as well. But, I didn’t have any other options because Mark was on his way.

I knew that George lived somewhere close to my building but I had no idea that he lived in the same building, on the same floor. I had never seen him around there. But, then again, I hardly looked around since I was used to people staring at me. Because of that, I never made eye contact with anyone. I was afraid of what people might say about the way I dressed, or I wouldn’t understand what they were saying. I just kept to myself.

My heart was pounding as I thought about it, but I didn’t have much time left. I opened all my windows in case either of them tried anything. I would scream and then, hopefully, a female would hear me and come to my rescue. I worked up the nerve to call George. He answered, “What?”  

“Ahhh, I’m Anna. Remember me from the factory? I sat with you at lunch.”

“Oh, Anna! The Mexican who messed up our lunch orders yes! I remember.”

 There went my face again, red like a tomato.

“What can I do for you, Anna?”

I explained what Bree told me but it took about twenty minutes.  

“Really, Bree is going on a date with a hot guy and she told you to tell me that?” He asked.

“Ahhh, yes.”

“Okay! Sure, Anna, anything else?” 

“Ahhh, no.” 

“See you in a few then.”

A few minutes later George knocked on the door. I was so nervous. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I opened the door and there he was leaning up against the doorway with his legs crossed and the biggest smile on his face.

“Hey, girly, holy f#ck, you are losing your shape! Ahhh, not that I was keeping an eye on your shape it’s just been a while since I have seen you… ahhh, shit, what am I saying? You are getting really skinny. Okay, I’ll shut the hell up now before I get myself in trouble,” He said.

I had noticed it too. My dresses were getting really loose. I invited him in. He walked around a bit and said, “Wow, you have nothing, not even a VCR or cable. Oh girl, what are you doing? You seriously need curtains.”

I couldn’t help but stare at his tattoos. He was wearing shorts and a tank top. His legs and arms were covered in tattoos. At work, he always wore jeans and a tee-shirt. I had only seen the tattoos he had on his arms from the elbow down.

He noticed that I was staring at them and started telling me what the tattoos meant to him and they all had a story. 

“I did most of the ones on my legs myself. That’s what I do in my spare time. I draw and do tattoos for people,” he said.

“Okay,” I said.

“If you want, you could come and watch me sometime.” 

My Low German thoughts told me to never ever go to his place and watch him give someone a tattoo. But I thought that it would be interesting to watch how he does that. Then the buzzer rang. It was Mark with the furniture.

George and I went down the hallway. I walked slowly so he could go in front of me. That’s what I was used to in my colony where women always walked behind the men. He kept slowing down to walk beside me. I thought he must know this and maybe he enjoys making me nervous like Bree does. 

It was a really hot day again, we were both sweating just from going down the steps. I just held doors as they carried the love seat up the stairs. They struggled a bit getting it through the door and set it down where I pointed to.

They were both dripping of sweat as they sat down on the living room floor. I went and got them some cold tap water from the fridge and a towel each to wipe their sweat off. Mark just smiled while he stared at me. 

George said, “Thanks, girl,” turned to Mark and said, “Man, that couch is f#cking ugly as hell”

It was brown with big orange flowers on it. 

“Yeah, I know, but it’s in good shape and it’s kind of Menno style, don’t you think? It was my mom’s and she took good care of it," Mark answered. 

   

Mark got up and said, “Thanks for the help, man, I have to go. I will call you later, Anna.”

“Okay thanks,” I said.

George rolled his eyes as Mark left and asked, “Where did you meet that f#cking loser?” 

I turned all red again as I said, “Ahhh, at the Job Finding Club.”

“Really, he goes there?”

“Do you know him?” I asked.

“I know someone who knows him and apparently he is a total loonie.”

I was thinking that loonies were coins, not people. I was confused. George got up and walked to the fridge and asked, “Do you mind if I get some more water from your fridge?” 

“Yes, sure you can get more water.”

George opened the fridge door and asked, “Where is all your food?  There is no food in here.” 

I opened the top freezer door to show him where I kept my food. I had a pack of hot dogs, a bag of frozen french fries, and a container of vanilla ice cream in there. He looked at me and asked, “Seriously, that is all the food you have?” 

I opened my cupboard. In there I had four packs of chicken flavored Mr. Noodles, salt, pepper, and a jar of instant coffee. 

"I love instant coffee because it’s the only thing I can get here in Canada that tastes the same as in Mexico."

"What?" He asked.

I told him that I couldn’t really buy more food because I didn’t have any money and that it was okay. I drank coffee and water and that’s all I needed. I told him I couldn’t eat anyway. I hadn’t felt hungry ever since owning a SIN card and my experience in Hilary’s office.

I explained to him that I felt like I had a stone in my stomach and that I felt like puking instead of eating most of the time. He looked confused and said, “You mean you feel like you have a knot in your stomach and you feel nauseous? 

“I think so.”

He explained what nauseous meant and suggested I go see a doctor at a walk-in clinic. He explained where the nearest one was, it was only a few blocks down the street from the apartment building. He offered to go with me and show me where it was. I told him that I could find it and I would go in the morning. I couldn’t risk walking down the street with him and my mom finding out about it.

I knew that he was just trying to be helpful and it would have been so nice to walk with someone. Walking everywhere by myself was getting boring. But, I did so that people wouldn’t talk about me in Mexico more than they already did. If anyone saw me walking with a man, that would be one thing, but one with tattoos and long hair? That would have gotten some people very excited to gossip about.

According to Low German people, I was tipping over:  äwa-gebucked is a term used to describe someone who changes from the old colony way of life to the way of the worldly people. And, because of that, people had nothing good to say about me. I felt like I couldn’t be friends with any of them. But, I couldn’t be friends with English people either because I was trying to spare my mother the gossip and heartache it would cause her.

I couldn’t believe some of the untrue stories I heard from my mother that people were saying about me. It was hard for her and she already felt horrible for letting me go to Canada. She felt torn between what I told her and what other people told her.

No matter how I explained to her that I wasn’t doing anything bad, she felt that what I was doing was wrong and that she had to choose a side just like I did. Click here to continue reading my story.

Menno-applause

Continued from Mennonites Don't Cry

I kept going back to the Job Finding Club for something to do. Kim typed up a resume for me but it had very little writing on it. When I first started coming, I didn’t even know what a resume was and now I had my very own. I felt so proud of my first resume.

Mark, the man that sat beside me felt sorry for me and began calling me to try and help but, really, there was nothing anyone could do. There was no job out there for me. It was ridiculously clear that I should be going to school.

Mark encouraged me to just keep coming to the club and I did. While looking through the classified job ads of the local newspaper, Mark read an add of an embroidery shop that was looking to hire experienced sewers. I got all excited and thought that that could be the break I had been hoping for.

Everyone at the club dropped what they were working on and practiced interviewing me.  My head was spinning. I had never been asked that many questions about myself. “What is your greatest strength?” “What is your weakness?”  “Where do you see yourself in five years?” 

All I could think of was, “It is so hot and stuffy in this room that it’s hard to breathe.” I was wearing a long-sleeved dark-colored dress that went up to my neck and below my knees as well as socks. All I could think about was how nice it would be to be able to wear shorts and a white t-shirt and take these socks off. But, I was afraid that a Low German person would see me and tell my mom in Mexico, and then I would be in big trouble.  

Kim had faxed my resume to that embroidery place and, sure enough, they called me the next day to come for an interview. Kim drove me to the interview and tried to keep me calm on the way there but it wasn’t working.  I was anything but calm. I walked in and there were ten people waiting to be interviewed. I thought, “Oh crap! I don’t have a fighting chance against these people.” They all looked so confident.

I thought I should have put on shorts that day, just for the day, so I would blend in a little more but, nope, I couldn’t risk it. So there I was in my dress, socks, and sandals and people were staring at me again. A very large woman was wearing really short shorts and a low cut tee-shirt. You could see most of her mountains. I had a hard time focusing on what she was saying.

She said, “Thank you all for coming. We had a really rough start this morning. The boss is sick and for that reason, she couldn’t make it in, then our air conditioner broke, so please bear with me.”

I began to wonder where they were keeping this bear she talked about. I was hoping it wouldn’t come into the room while I was there. I heard that there were bears in Canada but I had no idea that they would keep them at an embroidery shop.

I was sweating like I never had before, not even in Mexico. It was so hot in there but we all stayed in that room as she began asking questions. I just smiled, nodded my head as everyone else was asking and answering the questions. I wondered if I should say, “I had a SIN card.” But I didn’t.  I thought if I didn’t say anything I would have a better chance of getting the job. And if I got the job then I could prove it to them that I could be a hard worker. 

She told us that the job paid eight dollars an hour, which was fifty cents more than I was getting at the factory where I had worked. I thought that was awesome and really hoped that I would get the job. 

For a while, the woman paid close attention to how we interacted and responded to each other and then she said, “Okay, thank you all for coming and you will hear from us before the end of the week.”

Kim came back to pick me up with an air-conditioned car and a nice cold seven-up. She was the nicest person I had met in Canada, for sure! I was so happy and tempted to hug her, I had seen people do that on TV when they were feeling happy like I was. But I didn’t because I was way too sweaty and I wasn’t used to hugging people. Low German people didn’t hug. My Low German thoughts scolded me, “What are you thinking Anna? schäm de!”

When we got back to the club Kim said, “Let’s give Anna a big round of applause. She is the first out of this group to get an interview.”

I turned red like a tomato again. I wasn’t used to getting attention like that. Mark was so happy for me, he gave me a hug. It was awkward, nice, and weird all at the same time. I felt like he was getting a bit too friendly toward me, but I thought, “what do I know about friendships anyways, let alone friendships between men and women?” Click here to continue reading my story.