I get all kinds of stories at work. I don’t post about them because… well, it’s work (I don’t want to get Dooced). But something happened last week that left me thinking. A Hispanic woman called the office, and the person who answered the phone didn’t even say hello. It was an automatic “Un momento, por favor.” and that called was transferred to me: “Bea, Spanish person, line 1.” Next thing I know, there was a lady almost yelling, and asking why the heck our CS rep didn’t talk to her in English.

The big deal about it is that some people will immediately assume someone doesn’t speak their language when they hear an accent. Wrong! We are, after all, in the United States of America, and while there are many immigrants who don’t acquire English as a second language, most of us learn to speak it. I could understand the lady’s frustration about it; I apologized several times, and the lady added something along the lines of “At least I can speak English. Does she speak Spanish?”

It also made me think about the countless times when I haven’t said more than just hello and I have people looking at me and saying “Pardon me?” — Dude! I just said hello, just because I don’t look American, doesn’t mean you can’t understand me. And it happens everywhere, but more so here in this melting pot where everyone comes to try to make a living.

And then, on another occasion, I will post about how much I disagree with moving to America and not making an effort to learn English. But what do I know? Nobody’s perfect.

Because my husband made fun of me when I mentioned the words Sleep Hygiene, I found this on Yahoo! News today. According the study mentioned (that is not new, of course), a good night’s sleep is within the reach of most of us if we follow common-sense guidelines for sleep hygiene:

• Go to bed at the same time nightly.
• Set aside enough time to hit that golden 7 hours of sleep.
• Refrain from caffeine, heavy or spicy foods, and alcohol and other optional medications that might keep you awake, four to six hours before bed-time.
• Have a pre-sleep routine so you wind down before you hop in.
• Block out distracting lights and noises.
• Only engage in sleep and sex in bed (no TV-watching, reading or eating).
• Exercise regularly but not right before bed.

There is a directory at my workplace. It has everybody’s extension number, e-mail address and position; and we have to shred it when outdated! Next to the names of people who speak other languages there are abbreviations saying so. My name is followed by ES and FR (Español and Français). Then there are footnotes explaining what those abbreviations are for.

And then I saw a CA next to the name of a workmate who was born in Toronto, but moved to the US when she was 7. The footnote explains she speaks Canadian. Imagine! I lived 8 years in Canada, and I had no idea they speak Canadian over there. I always heard English, French and a lot of Jouale (not to mention others, but I will talk about multiculturalism another day). But I never heard of anything call the Canadian language.

Unless you add an “Eh” at the end of the sentence? They probably know something I don’t. Or I’m just an obnoxious, self-righteous biotch.

I guess it bothers me the same as when someone asks me if I speak Colombian or Mexican. Good God… That is the problem with colonies. If we had been invaded by the Greek, it would be a totally different story.

There is an ozone warning for tomorrow. It is the second time in my life that I hear of such thing. You would think that after 33 years on this earth, I would know it all. Me, supposedly a biologist with two or more ecology and climatology courses on my back… hmmm… anyway!

Growing up, I didn’t know what allergies were. Everyone around me ate peanuts and nobody was sent to the hospital after turning blue. I also never heard of strep infections, or it was probably called something else. Lacking seasons, there was no pollen or evil trees making us sneeze. Water was good anywhere, and I’m sure I developed a very good intestinal flora that allows me to eat junk without getting sick all the time. And now, surrounded by people who get all kinds of bugs, I never (knock on wood) get sick.

I wonder if it’s a madness in these northern countries, to avoid exposure to everything. They have come up with every single thing to keep your house clean to the point of making it even good for an open heart surgery. We might as well just put a freaking bubble around, and make sure we don’t run out of Lysol.

So yes, the ozone warning… I’m sure it’s always been like that, especially exposed to the same amount of daylight for over 20 years; but what do I know, the Summer season is still new to me (yeah, after 10 years of living in North America, I’m still learning). And I guess the ozone thing is getting worse now that the layer is being depleted. But good God, one of these days we will be warned to stay in a basement. Even the air can be lethal!

That being said, just take it easy with sun exposure. Cancer is no joke.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a person who likes to help others. It was easy to be like this thanks to my parents. My mom has always been involved in volunteer programs, first with the local hospitals, and then with several church organizations. I thank her for putting in my heart the example and desire to give something to the community I belong to. And that quote up there? It’s my mother’s favourite quote.

A few months ago, there was a discussion in the KC Bloggers group about volunteer programs, and I started thinking I really wanted to join one. I managed to contact Bridging the Gap to join their Earth Day walk, and I had to do overtime that weekend. I sucked big time, and then I just let it go. Then I got in touch with a lady at church, and she gave my name to the education coordinator, and they want to enroll me as a catechist, which is awesome! I went to see her yesterday, and I have to go to a couple of meetings in August.

And then, a couple of weeks ago, John and I went to the Summer Bowl for Kids’ Sake event and we decided to join the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. We talked to one of their recruiters, filled out the applications, did our interviews, and we had a visit from our case manager today. She asked a lot of questions, and exposed a lot of situations I never really thought I had to face by joining a program like this. But I’m very excited, and so is John. We’ll get matched with a Little Brother, and we will become a Big Couple. I’m sure it will be a wonderful experience.

So now I have my hands full, but being able to help others and get involved in my community makes me feel like I can call this place home. And getting to know more people I can connect with, will probably fill the void from being so far away from my family.

A few days ago I overheard a conversation between two people criticizing and making fun of someone because the person couldn’t pronounce a name. It turns out the name is actually Spanish, it is always pronounced with an English accent, and that’s what they think is the correct pronunciation. I had to roll my eyes. Anyway, as I overheard the conversation, I started to wonder why some people in the United States are so intolerant when it comes to foreign languages and accents sometimes. This is, after all, a country made by immigrants; people who come to this country from abroad and actually learn a new language. That is more than I can say about a considerable percentage of Americans who can only speak their own language in a place where they could embrace other cultures easily.

When I lived in Quebec, I felt like most people were interested in talking to me when they learned I came from another country. My accent or the way I talked was never criticized or made fun of. In fact, they actually appreciate the fact that most of us immigrants moved there not speaking a single word of French, and finally managed to make ourselves understood. To talk another language requires a lot of brain work, and to adapt to other cultures without losing your own requires braveness. So when people lose their patience because of an accent, I find it rude.

And it isn’t only because we move to another country. I started using English as my second language when I was rather young, and I wasn’t even obliged to use it. I never attended a bi-lingual school, and English was never required, except to get good notes in English classes. It was a given for me to learn a new language; first because I liked it, and then because I knew one day it would be necessary. And then I learned French. And now I get a lot of “Ohhh Ahhh’s,” but I also get to hear stupid comments like the ones that were made next to me.

One of my recurrent dreams involves a classroom, a random teacher of the many I’ve had during my life, and a test. Any subject that was hell to me comes to haunt me in the dream. Call it Physics, Calculus, Molecular Biology… Yeah, the hard ones. I wake up in the middle of the night sweating as if I were having a horrible nightmare. And it happens often… it happened last night.

It made me remember a discussion my friend Brittany and I were having with John over a Budlight pitcher at Applebee’s the other day. Britt insisted she thought school was way harder than work, and that it was mentally draining; I had to agree with her. John, on the other hand, told us we were crazy, and that work requires much more of you. In the end, I decided it was a personal thing… I prefer working.

Why? I have NEVER liked tests (who does?), they make me extremely nervous, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I want to cry, I never think I’ll pass… it’s not nice. I like school, but I don’t like school deadlines, I don’t like being graded all the time, and I could have done without all that stress. I don’t have to deal with that a work. Sure, there is always something to worry about, and sometimes I feel like storming out of the office when situations become frustrating. But I personally think it’s better to have your manager telling you that you messed up, and not someone telling you that you failed a class and you have to take it again.

But like I said, it’s personal. What do you think?