Saturday, March 24, 2007

Job searching in Italy part I: Nightmare on Porta Romana Street

I have entered culture shock. Things I had grown accostumed to have been thrown upside down. Apparently discrimination in the work place in Italy is perfectly legal. When companies post jobs they do a big show of noting "this position is open to anyone regardless of gender." ...and then they stop there. It is perfectly legal to discriminate against age, family status, and provenance...

After solving my homelessness temporarily (I am renting a room outside of Milan, at some friend's family's house. They were so nice to take me in just like that!) I hooked myself up to the computer and started updating my resume. It wasn't easy to translate my experience and past into terms used in Italy, especially since I don't know them. After two days I thought I had something decent to show, so I set out to spread the word that I was looking for a job.

Italy is an odd place. They will demand rent contracts of 4 years with a minimum 3 months notice, you have to pay every 3 months, and yet most jobs are offered on a temporary basis, 3 months to a year. You can be 40 years old and still wonder if you'll keep your job next year... In this environment, temp job agencies have sprouted like bad seeds, multipling like rabbits and sucking the money that should go to the worker from the companies...

Monday morning I set off for the Duomo, at the heart of Milan, and went off to find a job agency. Once you find one, there will be at least 5 others in a 300 feet radius. If you don't believe me, just head on over to the italian maps portal tuttocitta.it, type in Milan, and then type in "interinali" (italian for "temp work (agencies)"). Move the map around at a close zoom level, and you'll see clusters of baloons pop up all over. They can't show more than 10 at a time I think. The rendering alone would require a computer more powerful than the average home machine!

The first job agency I went into called me back right away, to offer me a graphic design job. I was elated, I knew it would have been easy to find a job, I'm a smart cookie after all, no? I had wanted to move away from graphic design and do more of the pure art stuff, but I needed something, anything, I was willing to get started with design again. When I went in for the interview, they gave me the details. It was to actually take the reins of the art department of a small PR company, who did ad campaigns and promotions for some major Italian companies. They had been outsourcing but wanted to bring it all in-house. The first question: "Are you married?" "...ergh... no?" "Family? Children? Boyfriend? Do you live alone? The company really asked for a guy, but I wanted to give you a chance..." The job required long hours, high stress, strict deadlines...

By all rights, it would have been a dream come true to someone who would have wanted to rise up in the graphic design industry, with an ambitious career, an opportunity like no other, become art director within the year... Me, I had been dreaming with finally being able to take on odd jobs, work as a waitress, a bartender, do random things and have some fun, while giving myself time to write and continue my family research. I thanked her but said no. I think she was astonished I had refused.

After this experience I set out to the other agencies around. Presenting my nicely-designed one-pager resume, with a letter of presentation and page of references, no-personal-info other than contact email and phone number... I was promptly scolded by several job agencies. Where was my date of birth? Where did I live? Where was I born? Was I married or not? Did I have children? Where was my picture? I had to register and re-input all the data in their computers. And wait for their call.

I was appalled for a whole of 2 days. I finally realized it wasn't an illegal thing they were doing. It's the way things are done here. If I want a proper job I have to be willing to let them know what shoe size I wear and how often I poop. As a personal contact explained, candidly: if you have children your employer has to pay taxes for them. No wonder natality in Italy has reached an all-time low! Soon there will be no more Italians! My motherland will be overrun by immigrants who have no cares about those laws 'cause they're discriminated against anyways, they might as well have as many children as they can and have a better chance to ask for welfare...

So tonight I have given birth to a monster. A resume (Or Curriculum Vitae, as they call it here) that condensed my extensive and varied work experience into a couple of pre-defined job types, and listing my personal info.

I am still shuddering.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

the 100th post!

I know I've been slacking... I have many stories to tell, just no time to sit and write quite yet... After 3 weeks in New York, today I returned to Milan, ready to start a new life. Too bad Milan didn't know that...

I showed up at the door of the people that hosted me last... and utterly surprised them, apparently. They whipped up a mattress in an office but it's obviously not anything I can use for more than a couple of nights...

And I just realized I have no clue how to get a job.

All my things are headed this way from NY. They'll be stored somewhere, that shouldn't be a big deal... but I need to figure out what to do with myself. My savings account is starting to shiver from the cold of expansive emptiness around it.

So, jobless and almost homeless. Tomorrow I'm forcing myself to get over the jet lag and start looking for something...

wish me luck :)