Photo by Marina Kudyrko, “Zagranitsa”
Ahead was the high season, and tucked away in my pocket for a rainy day were as many as 250 bucks. The schedule of all flights connecting Turkey and Ukraine, learned by heart (just in case), was my only moral support. Oh, we’ve been through worse... From my luggage I took only the most necessary trifles: a cool head, fluency in English, professional knowledge of computers and the intricacies of the tourism business, a great interest in Eastern culture, a burning desire to earn money, and most importantly — a couple of swimsuits...
The season in tourist areas of Turkey is structured roughly as follows: it begins in April, reaches its peak of labor activity in June–August, and continues until the last client — usually until the end of October. The working week consists of seven days, working hours are 10–14 hours a day. With such a workload, no tired faces are visible, the staff is friendly everywhere, guides and salespeople are efficient, and waiters in coastal bars put on dance shows between their main work. In a word, they just live and, it seems, enjoy themselves.
Tourist zones are saturated with foreign labor. English, Dutch, Danish, and Russian tour operators with offices in Turkey send their guides for the season. Almost every hotel, shop, and stall has Russian staff — tourists from the CIS are notoriously bad at English. Being firmly convinced that demand creates supply, I easily found my place in the sun. After a short search, I settled on one of the offered jobs — administrator at an inexpensive but very well-kept coastal hotel. Decent living conditions, a safe for storing documents and money, a 14-hour working day with a two-hour break, free meals and drinks, a weekly salary twice the monthly salary at home, and payment for a return ticket at the end of the season — in my opinion, an excellent start to working abroad.
So, hurrah! I am working! In the morning I had to check incoming bookings and issue invoices, settle arriving tourists and familiarize them with the hotel’s services, then again bookings, departure of Russian groups, and much more. Taking into account the wishes and accepting complaints of Russian-speaking tourists is also my “privilege.” The working day often ended by midnight, and if it happened earlier, I told myself that I came here not to rest but to earn money, and went to a second job — I taught Russian to owners of small shops and worked part-time as a sales consultant in shopping centers in the evening. And finally, at the end of the working day, the long-awaited dessert, the one that is dearest of all, incredibly sweet, but, alas, so short, my master — sleep. And in the morning... The alarm clock loudly, unceremoniously, and extremely annoyingly announced that the “our song” familiar to everyone since childhood, which is, to a frightening degree, good, strongly recommends starting the working day from the very beginning.
After about two weeks of intense study (during the break) of the Turkish language, a couple of dozen of the most necessary phrases did appear in my arsenal — this gave me the opportunity not only to buy fruits at the market at local prices, but also, which is no less important, to raise my rating in the eyes of the employer.
In those rare minutes when I finally managed to tear my tired eyes away from the computer, I could watch from the window my tourists lying serenely on the beach. “It’s good for you here,” I happened to hear, “a whole six months by the sea.” And indeed, the sea splashed just ten meters from the window of my office. But, alas, my poor swimsuits were sent on an indefinite vacation to the very bottom of a travel bag.
Six months passed quickly, the season is over — a happy ending. Farewell, Turkey! In my suitcase are carefully packed several souvenirs, the most valuable of which is a Turkish language textbook. I return home tired but satisfied. Having calculated the result of my labor, I find that the money will be enough not only to pay off debts, but also, quite possibly, to open my own business.
Meanwhile, domestic newspapers are full of countless ads offering highly paid work for dishwashers and waiters, where language knowledge is not required, or the next recruitment of dancers and consumators without sex services. And how sad it is to read in the press about our girls who ended up in brothels. Where are you going, young and beautiful, if your entire baggage of knowledge is a barely completed high school, and your passport boasts a tourist visa rather than a work visa?
There is no cornucopia from which money will pour overseas. But cheap labor — cleaners, plantation workers, caregivers for the sick — is plentiful. The best one can get without language knowledge and a good profession is backbreaking physical labor for a salary that is measly by the standards of the host country and substantial dependence on the employer.
However, in many countries there is a great demand for skilled workers: guides and office staff, programmers and physicians are readily accepted. In Western Europe, child care assistants — au pair — are in demand. Having graduated from university, Europeans often go abroad to work with the intention of gaining experience and building initial capital. But if you are educated, know computers and foreign languages, and are determined to work and earn, go for it! And perhaps you will take the first step on the path to earning money abroad. And for the lazy and barely literate, it is bad not only at home, but also abroad.
P.S. At the last tourist exhibition, held annually in Kiev, where travel industry professionals meet and contracts are concluded, the booths of Turkish operators and hotels were full of announcements: "Staff required". Guides, animators, and qualified personnel were needed for new hotels. At the express interview, one had to show not only excellent command of spoken English, but also certain professional skills and an untiring desire to work. For several of my friends, this exhibition became the first step on the way to earning money abroad. With slight envy I saw them off to work in Turkey; I even felt a bit wistful that I could not dash off with them - by that time my husband and I were already building our own travel agency...