My salary

Wednesday: April 2th, 2014. I got my first SALARY after a long time without being paid. I was counting the days. Day after day until the third month comes, here, usually in every place I used to work they would let me go after my first or second month. Otherwise I would leave by myself cause something I didn’t like happened.

Every time I got my salary I told my boss “ thank you …” and she answered “ no need..”

When I got my first salary I was jumping all the way coming back home, recalling the first month just after I started job – the first I actually got paid… how hard it was for me. I didn’t have money at that time to go to my work everyday, I didn’t have any idea how I would do that? I didn’t want to either ask my family or embarrass my friend by asking her to give me my money back … the money she should given back 3 years ago. I started teaching at the mornings or in my days off in order to earn enough so I was able to get to the bakery. I prayed everyday to God, I was talking to him a lot, telling him” I don’t know what to say? Or how to talk, oh God… but you know what I need and what I want to say” I was so sure he saw me, he knew everything.

A lot of people made fun of me and of my work, some of them tried to take all the joy from me by talking about how smart and educated I was, but they couldn’t. I was sorry for them. If they didn’t understand how much my work was good, enjoyable and relaxing it means they were sad, poor people. Yes I would like to work in media again or to keep writing, but what I was looking for was not here. I am a writer - yes I am …yes my Arabic is really bad, I do a lot of grammar mistakes but I am still a writer. I want to be able to write about people stories or to have my talk show with normal people. I don’t want to talk about the famous, I want to talk and tell about everyone who feels himself NOBODY, about who’s having a dream trying it makes come true.

In my first month I went through different things: like how to describe bread, how to become a sales girl. Oh… my first day in the bakery as a sales, alone. It was a disaster, I couldn’t remember anything and also I didn’t remember the names of everything and my boss told me: it’s Saturday and raining so usually there are no customers today. She left, after a while customers started coming in, non stop, the line was becoming longer and longer. I was telling everyone “ sorry, I am new” I was calling my boss asking about everything but she couldn’t understand me very well and I didn’t know what she was talking about, I tried to be cool but inside I was crying. Freaking-out. When my boss traveled to Germany in the end of my first month I went crazy. I was coming here at 10 am, whether it’s my shift or not. I was cleaning a lot and telling myself “ I need to keep this place clean … she needs to feel like she didn’t leave”. It was one week … but not like any other week before … that week helped to understand a little about the business, fall in love with the bakery, try to learn more about baking.

Also in that month a lot of people were coming, asking me about my boss if she was married or not? If she was a Christian or Jewish or Muslim? If we supported Israel or Palestine? If our gelatin was Halal or not? If I said “ bism allah al rahman al rahem “ before baking or not? If I was a Muslim or not?  Some of them were asking me where I was from… the funny part was that I spoke Arabic with them and then they would still ask me “ where are you from ? “ or “ for how long you have been here?  Then they would tell me “ oh la la … your Arabic is very good but you need to learn how to pronounce it very well or you need to speak more “ some of them were asking me if I was a Moroccan or Tunisian and some without asking spoke to me in Spanish. I loved these people who thought I was Latin.

Some customers were coming here not for the bread. They were coming for meat “ humans meat”. They were coming here, buying nothing, just asking me how old I was? If I was married or not? If I had a boyfriend or not? If I was virgin or not?? Some of them they didn’t ask, they just told me personal things,  waiting me to start talking about myself. Like this old man who asked me to go out with him for a dinner after I finish my work. This was not the first time to hear that or to be in the same situation..

I feel grouse when a man comes here, looks at my body, asks me why was I single? Oh my God! I just remembered that … an old man asked me to go out with him after Ramadan and when I asked why? He said because I was smart, nice and he was trying to make me feel like I am not that beautiful and he favored me so when I said “ NO” he asked me if I was a lesbian  This kind of people made me feel like a hero because I kept smiling when I kicked them out telling in a nice manner “ thanks to come here but watch your neck the next time so you don’t break it”.

Not only this people make me feel like a hero also here like that night…