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Well, my first three days anyway – I started on Wednesday and we’ve had a long weekend due to a public holiday today (Labour Day). Nice way to break me in easily. I’ve been inundated with information and given lots of things to do already – it’s been a lot to take in. Before I started work, Kiwi gave me some sage advice which has made the difference between my feeling overwhelmed by it all or knowing where I’m at and getting on with it. His advice was; keep a To-Do List. So simple. Unfortunately for me my To-Do List turned into a double feature-page in my notebook by the end of my first day, and by home time on Friday it was more of a small novel.
This is good though, I know what’s in store for me on Tuesday morning and over the first few days the time between 8:30am and 5:30pm flew. I’m only on a seven-month contract – the company have a seven-month project which I’ll be helping to ‘account manage’ and at the end of the seven months – end of May next year, they should be able to offer me a permanent position (or extend my contract). So knowing that I’m busy is a good feeling, it obviously means I’m needed. If I remain busy I don’t have to worry too much about my future there.
It’s been a really good week overall and things are finally falling into place all at once. On Monday I was offered the job at MADCom (not the real company name – they are a marketing and advertising company so this makes sense for a pseudonym); on Wednesday we went to view a property in Brooklyn, on the edge of Wellington’s city centre, with Cat Woman and Wetsuit Man, which we are all moving in to mid November; then on Thursday I received a letter from Immigration NZ, finally approving my work permit. They’ve given me a two year permit so I can breathe easy at last until they approve my residency application. Knowing Immigration, they’ll probably approve it in the next few weeks which will make the $280 I paid for the work permit redundant. But I guess for piece of mind, $280 is worth every cent.
So, in the space of a week, life is suddenly how I imagined it should be. Or at least it will be once we’ve moved into our new place. This weekend has been a taste of things to come – no more working weekend days and nights, Kiwi and I can just chill together. I went out after work with Kiwi Girl on Friday night, for dinner and a bottle of wine. We ran some errands on Saturday, did some serious domestic duties, met up with some friends for a drink and watched a movie. On Sunday we went into Wellington to check out the fruit and veg market which is on Victoria Street every Sunday, then walked around town and stopped for a bite to eat and a drink. We also sat down and worked out our budget for when we’re living in Wellington and it all looks good – we’re back to where we were when we were (that’s a lot of where were we’s) living in Newcastle. Basically we’re not rich but we can afford to treat ourselves and go out on dates on a weekly basis, woo!
Anyway, we’re on to day three of the weekend (woohoo! for long weekends) and I have no idea what our plans are for today. Generally just chillaxin’ I think, and maybe a few more domestic bits – although after cleaning out the guinea pigs, cleaning the bathroom, cleaning out my draws, wardrobe and storage boxes (trying to make moving-out easier by getting rid of things I don’t use/wear) and running around Upper Hutt and Lower Hutt running errands, I do feel all out of the motivation to do anything else domesticated this weekend… *Yawn*.
…No more! I got the job! And I start on Wednesday… as in tomorrow… as in ohmyfreakin’bejeezus I’ve been un(der)employed for 10 months and all of a sudden I have to get myself out of bed at 6am in the morning and travel for an hour to my 8:30 – 5:30 job in which I’ll be inundated with all kinds of unknown bits and bobs (and by the way the manager I’ll be working under is away for my first 2 weeks of work and wants to hand over her projects to me) and after 5:30 I’ll travel the hour home where I’ll have some dinner and probably a hour or two to myself before I have to get things sorted for the next day at work then go to bed… It’s a long shot from my previous job where I lived 5 minutes walk from work and at least had some idea what I was doing… I’m sure that bit will come in time.
Now Kiwi is busy house/flat/apartment hunting for us as I type. We’re moving in with Cat Woman and Wetsuit Man; Cat Woman has a cat (surprise, surprise) and we have three guinea pigs, so the ‘NO PETS’ clause which 99% of landlords use when advertising their properties is slightly slimming down our choice of places to live. But I’m sure it’ll help us in the long run – if we had lots of options then we’d take ages to narrow it down to a final choice… probably. Whatever, I’m not getting involved in the actual hunt for a home. All I want is a room for a bedroom, a room for an office and some space I can run the pigs around in. I’ll leave it to the others to find a place; I’ve got too much freaking out to do about my new job to be wasting my energy on houses…
I could have started today, but I wanted a day for myself to take it in. Sounds extremo but when you’re out of ‘real’ employment for so long it leaves you wondering if you’ll just give in to it, sign on the dole and spend your days watching Trisha and Jeremy Kyle (believe it or not, they screen both on New Zealand television…) When you finally do get a job you feel unworthy – I’m terrified I won’t have a clue what I’m doing and I’ll crash and burn – during the past 10 months of not getting to interview stage, I’d lost my sense of confidence in myself to do a job of this type, and I thought my experience and skills weren’t as good as I thought they were. But now this job offer has sparked off a sense of pride in myself and the feeling that I can do it.
I imagined that I wouldn’t find a job in New Zealand for a long time which would actually be a career step-up. I thought I’d have to start at the bottom again and find a new niche – maybe work as an assistant/junior position. But in yet another streak of luck in my life (I can’t find it now, but I once wrote a post about how in my life I’ve always got what I wanted/needed), this position is a new rung on my current career ladder, and a higher one at that. It’s too good to be true – do you remember me mentioning they have a TEA MENU and how much I LOVE tea? The job may well have been waiting just for me…
Ooh, Kiwi just told me we’re going house-viewing in 1 hour! Sounds fun. I’m not even showered and dressed yet though so I should really get going…
Did I mention I HAVE A JOB!!! THE JOB!!!
Right now I’m appreciative of Avalon over at Avalon’s Guide. She, like me, is a legal alien, an Englishman in New Zealand (she’s not a man, but ‘Englishwoman’ wasn’t how the song was sung. Well, neither did the song say New Zealand but whatever). Well, technically she’s now a Kiwi since she has achieved her citizenship status – she’s been here many years and I’m glad to have found her blog as I find it really relevant to the position I’m in.
Anyway, Avalon is currently writing a money thread on her blog, with posts about mortgages in New Zealand and investing. I’m not looking for mortgages or investments but she also has advice about overspending and budgeting (advice which I WILL need once I actually have a job and some bills to pay) and conversion rates (NZ$ to GBP£). When I made a comment on her blog a while back about the recently crappy conversion rates and wanting to bring my UK pension over to New Zealand to put it into a Kiwisaver scheme, Avalon took the time to reply to me personally, in an email, and provided some pension information/advice to help me. Now I’m not going to sort out moving my pension until I have my residency, one thing at a time, but her email is stored away for next year. It was great that she, who doesn’t know me from Adam (or Eve), took the trouble to send me a little of her wisdom.
Whilst I’m on the subject of Avalon, her blog drew my attention to a legislation which affects migrants, and could affect me if I am not careful about how I discuss the topic of immigration to New Zealand.
The legislation (The Immigration Advisors Licensing Act 2007) was put in place so that anyone acting/working as an official Immigration Advisor is required to have a license in order to do so. Initially this sounds reasonable and even sensible, we don’t want ol’ Joe Bloggs from down the road telling potential migrants that they won’t get in to New Zealand without his advice and charging extortionate rates simply to fill in an immigration application which they could have done themselves.
The legislation is supposedly there to:
promote and protect the interests of consumers receiving immigration advice, and to enhance the reputation of New Zealand as a migration destination, by providing for the regulation of persons who give immigration advice
However, the legislation is being taken too far. Bloggers and people who comment on migrant forums may find themselves landed with a hefty fine for acting as an Immigration Advisor without a license to do so, just for the act of talking about their own experiences of Immigration NZ and offering advice and support to other migrants. The legislation is working to silence migrants – as Avalon puts it, Immigration NZ are effectively saying to migrants; “Please come to New Zealand! We need 50,000 immigrants a year to keep our country going, and we need your money, but once you get here – please do us all a favour and keep your bloody mouth shut! – Its your money we want, not your opinion”
Now, I read some sentiments on the subject which remarks that if a migrant can’t tell the difference between opinion/advice/personal experience and the services of an official Immigration Advisor, then does New Zealand really need migrants with that lack of intellect? I completely agree; yes, there should be legislation to control so-called ‘advisors’ giving out incorrect advice, but that shouldn’t stop everyday people talking about the subject and offering experience-based advice and support. I myself have received some valuable support and I can’t be specific or thank that person due to censorship – INZ may fine them for helping to put my mind at ease… Tell me that’s not ridiculous?!
Avalon has provided a letter to the Minister of Immigration on her blog, which you and I are welcome to make a copy of and send it, asking him to re-look at this legislation and even scrap it. Unfortunately, shortly after posting the letter on her blog she updated with a post which says the Minister made a statement that he will not be looking to change the legislation. I don’t think this should make Avalon’s letter redundant though, maybe if more migrants took the time to send their thoughts on the subject, he might come back to it.
Now, I’m not very ‘up’ on politics and I usually don’t get political, but this issue is something which has already affected me in a small way and is affecting others in a large way. It is through the experience of others that we learn not to make mistakes, and if we can’t talk/hear about those mistakes then how do we prevent them from happening? It might even be the case that if migrants can’t receive unofficial advice about immigration, then they are more likely to be subject to false/misinformed advice from ‘official’ Advisors and have to pay for that advice, both financially and as dire consequences. People can’t afford the services of more than one official Advisor, so therefore can’t receive more than one opinion – they rely on one person to have their facts straight and they have to trust this person has their best interests at heart. How, without information from more than one source, can a person form rounded and informed decisions and be able to trust that what they are being told is right?
New Zealand sells itself as forward-thinking, they are the number 1 most politically peaceful country in the world, yet they wish to censor and ‘nanny’ migrants who buy into the idea of living in this environment. It’s ironic.
This week I will mostly be…:
…Waiting to hear back about the Account Manager job – I’m 99% sure I’ll be asked back to the next stage – some kind of second interview/’test’. But we all know how good I am at tests… yeah, right…
…Waiting to hear something from immigration. Surely they have to get back to me some time soon? It’s been 3 months since I lodged my residency application (3 months to the day in fact) and one week since I lodged my temporary work application. Yes I know they take around 6 months and 60 days (respectively) but I have no patience when I have things to worry about like will I have to go back home to the UK this Christmas?! (I won’t have to unless in some rare and extreme case they don’t believe that Kiwi and me are a genuine couple. But I reckon this blog could vouch for us!).
I’m also waiting to move Simba in with Nala and Kiara. He’s currently living next door to them – Kiwi extended their ‘mansion’ (it’s now doubled in size) and put a dividing wall in the middle – they can see and talk to each other but Simba can’t pounce on them (he really wants too – he’s totally giving them the eye). We introduced them today, without any dividing wall. We plonked them all on the bed together and nobody got maimed or killed so I reckon they’ll get on fine. Except for me, I got nipped by Kiara – a hard nip because I tickled her when she was already agitated with Simba trying to climb on her head.
All exciting stuff, my life is just a whirlwind of, erm, excitement… Debatable.
I finally got around to completing the form for a temporary work permit and dropping it off at Immigration. One more thing that I can tick off the list in my head. I received an email after my previous post which put my mind at ease – I was told that the print-out I received from the doctors surgery with my test results on it was the hard copy of my results. What Immigration wanted was for me to post this print-out and not scan and email or fax it to them. Such a relief to know.
So, now it’s more of the waiting game – waiting to receive my temporary work permit, waiting to receive my residency, and waiting to get a job… At least I’m getting there… slowly.
I rang the doctors this morning to chase up my urine test. I spoke to a nurse who told me it was all clear – I nearly jumped for joy on the phone. Something so simple, but had me so worried. It should *fingers crossed* be as simple as sending off the results and awaiting a decision about my residency. No need for further medical tests. However, immigration had specified that they wanted me to send “hard copies” of the lab results. All I received from the doctors was a print-out which listed my results. I asked two receptionists if I could have the hard copy of my lab results and they had no idea what the hard copy would be – as far as they were concerned, this print-out was the only available copy of my results.
I’ve sent off the results as I received them, but I’m expecting to hear back from immigration that the print-out isn’t acceptable and they need something that comes directly from the laboratory rather than the doctors surgery. I don’t know, I probably worry too much. It stressed me out this morning though. I was hormonal already, then I had to deal with the rude receptionist from my last visit and she wasn’t helpful which put me in a bad mood. And because I didn’t know if I had the right information I needed for immigration, and nobody else could help me (and that receptionist wasn’t about to go out of her way to find anything out for me) I felt helpless. I thought that with a clear test result my problems were over, but now I have to wait and see if immigration will accept my test results.
Where government departments are concerned, nothing is ever simple or straightforward. It’s all about being confusing, unclear and difficult for the sake of it. There are too many guidelines and rules to follow, so that individuals are unable to use their own common sense and initiative.
I’ve had enough of immigration processes already, and I’ve barely even started.
Check out my new page. It’s there to add a little excitement to your visit when you have some time to kill and perhaps I haven’t updated in a while. Push the button and it’ll take you to a random post in my archives; there’s nearly 1 and a half year’s worth of posts to delve into and my journey of thoughts has been interesting to say the least – in that time I have considered relationships (past and present), anxiety attacks, novel writing, body confidence, my time in Newcastle UK, emigrating to Wellington New Zealand, job hunting in a recession and a newly discovered obsession with small and furry critters. Definitely so random.
Thursday was interview day. Thursday was a really good day. I didn’t think interviews and good days came side by side, but on Thursday they did. I was interviewed by the Director of the company, let’s call her Boss Lady, and the General Manager of Marketing and Business Development, let’s call him Top Man. I thought a meeting involving two interviewers would be more like an inquisition, but Boss Lady simply talked to me about the company and the position, while Top Man asked the questions with Boss Lady interjecting occasionally to agree with my answers (*smug grin*) or add to a question.
To begin with, on answering the first question, by voice came out really low and husky, and slightly shakey too. I wasn’t feeling particularly nervous so this came as a surprise to me, which then made me feel nervous because I sounded so unlike myself. The questions were the usual ’stock’ questions: tell us about yourself; what are your weaknesses; what are your strengths; tell us about a time when you have worked as part of a team, what were the challenges; why should we employ you, etc… A few of the questions I began answering okay then ran off on a tangent. But they seemed to be happy with my answers anyway and I’d often refer to my previous role, at which point Boss Lady would say something like “yes, it’s the same here, we do X, Y and Z”. It was good to have some supportive comments which reflected that I understood the role and company well, and I think I showed I had experience which matched what they were looking for.
On a couple of questions I think I struck a good note in Boss Lady and Top Man – one of them asked me about time management skills and what I would do if I had two conflicting deadlines. I said I’d never had a conflicting deadline where the key points throughout the schedule matched exactly, so you could prioritise project tasks on this basis first. Otherwise you simply put your nose to the grindstone and work extra hours to get the job done. I also pointed out that clients come first so you sort their projects out first and do anything else company-related second (again, outside of work hours to get the job done on time *!*) They liked this – shows dedication etc blah blah blah… They also liked my answer to the question why should we employ you over anyone else. I said because it’s not just a job to me – it’s an interest; I have a passion for the industry. Bit cliche but it’s true (and I did expand on it past the cliche factor).
They told me that they might employ somebody to begin with on a three month contract, because they are snowed under with work and need an extra pair of hands. If the person contracted is successful in the position, then they will be taken on full time. This works perfectly for me – mainly because of my visa situation meaning that I can’t accept a permanent contract just yet. Maybe this makes the position *made* for me; like fate has intervened in the visa situation to give me a break. Or not. I’ll find out in two weeks. They interviewed someone else on the same day as me, but the next person can’t be interviewed for two weeks so in the meantime I just have to wait. But there are only 3 people who got short-listed to interview. We were filtered down from 12 people who were asked to answer those 5 email questions. To hear that I was down to the last three was a real surprise, I felt kind of proud of myself. It’s made me feel confident in my employability again.
What was an even nicer surprise was that yesterday afternoon, a few hours after my interview, I got a phone call from Top Man who just wanted to let me know that I interviewed really well and they were impressed with me (!!). He wanted me to get in touch if my situation changes between now and in two weeks when they’ll be taking candidates to the next stage (they’ll be ‘testing’ us next in some way). This got me thinking that perhaps he’d called me because they’d interviewed the other candidate and this person wasn’t what they were looking for. Perhaps now it’s just between me and the person who will be interviewed in two weeks?! I’ve never received a courtesy post-interview ‘you were great’ phone call before – that’s got to be a good sign, right?!
Think lucky thoughts for me! x
Excuse the pun, it was the only catchy title I could think of. I do have more than a pot to piss in, this isn’t a post about poverty, it’s another one about my urine samples! Yay for you, reader!
I’m really drained today, even more so than yesterday. Maybe I’m coming down with something because I feel all achy too. Or the aches could be down to running around cinemas with a vacuum cleaner on my back again, and the drained feeling could be due to my frustrating morning. What was supposed to be a quick two-minute drop off of a urine sample at the laboratory turned into a half hour debacle (which doesn’t sound like much but felt much longer because I was clock-watching so I wouldn’t be late for work, and I still needed to get dressed and have breakfast before work). At 8.30am this morning I drove to the doctor’s lab to pick up a piss-pot. At 9:30am (having returned home, drunk lots of water and done the deed), I returned to drop it off. I’d been told by a nurse over the phone to simply drop off the sample along with the form Immigration NZ had given me. I’d then been re-assured by a nurse at the lab when I’d picked up the pot earlier that this was correct, I didn’t need to do anything except drop off the sample with the form and pay for the test. So I took my pot of pee and form to the receptionist at the lab thinking I’d be on my way home again within a few minutes so I could finish getting ready for my 10.30am shift at work.
Instead, the receptionist decided to be difficult. She wouldn’t accept the form without a doctor’s signature. I argued my corner for a bit but couldn’t be bothered after a while because she was being so patronising about the situation “well the laboratory won’t know who to return the results to, so it has to have a doctor’s signature”. I told her that the results just need to be returned to the lab reception, where I will pick them up and deliver them to INZ. She wasn’t having any of it. So I took back my form and my pot of pee and toddled to the doctor’s surgery next door, where I asked the receptionist there about getting a signed form requesting a test for protein levels in my urine. She was nice and labelled the matter as urgent with the next doctor who was free, who came straight out (after waiting for ten minutes), printed me off the correct form and signed it.
I took my new form back to the receptionist in the lab. She was busy but a nurse took it off me, stapled my old form to the new form, said it all looked fine and I just needed to wait until the receptionist was free so I could pay the test fees. When the receptionist was finally free (she kept deliberately serving people who had walked in after me), she inexplicably detached the two forms from one another. Then rather than accepting the new form, she decided to question it, saying it wasn’t specifically labelled as a test for an immigration medical and therefore she couldn’t process it for payment and the lab wouldn’t know what it was for. I asked if she could attach my previous form to the new one in order to show that it’s an immigration request – both for her processing purposes and so I knew the lab had the correct information. She ummed and aaahed and eventually did so, although making out like she was doing me a big favour. She then decided to question why a different doctor had signed this form than the one who had done my medical. After giving out some bullshit about the results coming in to a different doctor than the one who had undertaken my medical, she decided it didn’t matter anyway. She then suggested that I didn’t label my new form as immigration after all, then I wouldn’t have to pay for the test – as though she was my partner in crime or my best friend doing something for a mate. I just said I’d rather pay if it was all the same to her… She was like a woman possessed with her own feelings of self-importance. I don’t usually undermine people’s positions but in this case she really was just a receptionist and was being difficult to make herself seem more qualified in the matter than she was. Or at least that’s what it felt like when her shenanigans made me turn up to work without my uniform shirt on and my hair un-styled. I was not impressed.
Anyway, I’ve done what needs to be done so all I can do now is wait the 2-5 days for the results before I know what’ll happen next. If it tests negative for protein, then I’m all sweet and hopefully my residency and temporary work permit applications can get moving. If it tests positive for protein, I’ll go to the doctors for advice. If I need further tests then I’ll get them done before the deadline I’ve been given to return the results of my urine sample to INZ (just the examiners report, I don’t have to send them a pot of my pee…) My deadline is 28th October. When returning the results I can then include any additional test results along with a doctors letter which tells INZ that I am healthy and the protein secretion is a result of X, Y or Z. Hopefully that will prevent INZ sending me for all sorts of random tests unnecessarily (as I’m told they have done before for other immigrants). *please be negative* I so can’t be arsed with all this malarky. I have things like job applications to worry about.
Today has been pretty draining. I had a shift at the cinema which involved vacuuming all four cinemas twice over, which is better than any gym workout I can tell you that much. I was well and truly spent after my eight hour shift. I felt tired and hungry, and like the tired and hungry five year old that I am, I couldn’t handle anything more than sitting on my bum, watching inane crap on the Disney channel and playing with my guinea pigs… But when I got home from work a letter was waiting for me from Immigration NZ (INZ) which threw me into a tantrum instead. They were notifying me that I needed to re-send a urine sample to the laboratory for testing as my immigration medical had revealed protein in my previous urine sample. I already knew this but I wasn’t sure if it would be a problem – I had two urine tests taken as the first revealed protein and trace of blood. The second sample just had protein. My doctor said she’d send it to them anyway and signed off the medical forms stating that I was fit and healthy.
Immigration NZ have decided to look further into it. So I’ve been researching the implications of protein in my urine – it could simply be dehydration, or a stage in my lady-cycle, or bad diet. It could also mean I have the beginnings of kidney disease or that my kidneys are about to fail and I’m about to die… So yeah, the research wasn’t really helpful. I’m going to drink lots and lots of water to ensure I’m not dehydrated anyway, it’s the only thing I can do to try and ‘influence’ the next sample, as it were.
The thing which worried me wasn’t really the implications of having ‘proteinous pee’. It was that I need my immigration medical to be accepted in order to apply for my temporary work visa, or even to extend my working holiday visa. I only have 60 days in which to ensure if I do have another urine sample which tests positive for protein, that I can get whatever medical problem I have identified and sorted out and then to get my work visa granted. 60 days isn’t long when it comes to lab tests, appointment making, form filling/submitting and getting INZ to decide on the outcome of any of my visa options. I have enough to worry about applying for the work visa without these complications.
INZ’s letter, my visa applications, along with pre-interview nerves and pre-neutering concerns for Simba, are making my mind blur. It sounds dramatic but it all feels a bit too much to deal with all at once. I have a lot of ‘what ifs?’ going through my mind. What if I do have something medically wrong and I’m not granted a visa? What if it takes so long for INZ to be satisfied with my medical, that my visa runs out and I have to leave NZ? What if my kidneys fail and I die, who will look after the guinea pigs? Ok, so I’m not thinking about that really… Really! But those what ifs are just the visa related ones. I’m worried about not receiving any job offers, ever vs my work visa running out; neutering Simba and him not getting on with the girls vs post-op infection and one dead mini pig (and that ultimately being my fault!). Oh wow, I need to take a chill pill.
One chill pill coming up, in the form of some Kiwi “hugs time”.
He said, then she said...