jaala

As per request[1], photos of my haircut:

1 and 2.

I have to use gel to keep it out of my face. Curse you, wavy hair! I might give in and get the hairdresser to trim the sides so that I can cut down on the cement-ish quality achieved with the amount of gel required to get it to stay behind my ears.

It took a lot of frustrated seaching before I could find someone in this town willing to cut a woman's hair at 5:00pm on Tuesday. The place I eventually found normally costs $45+ for a cut but because I was willing to settle for a junior stylist I only had to pay $25... which isn't bad at all considering that a pretty lengthy scalp massage and free touch-ups is included.

On Tuesday, the second day of orientation came and went. It was much more interesting than the first day because we were learning about the actual Fort. One highlight: in order to test our pro-active customer service skills (also our ability to withstand embarrassment), we were given cardboard chacos (British military hats) and had to wear them out into the streets, seek out managers of local businesses, and offer the chaco in return for a business card to be entered into a draw for tickets.

On-site training began today. The weather turned out to be unseasonably warm. Man, are those wool uniforms hot. All our uniforms are wool or serge and we have to wear other layers underneath them to soak up the sweat; the fort is out in the open (natch); the ground is paved (i.e. reflects heat upwards), and the breezes off the lake do not reach the parade grounds. And this is still May, when the really hot weather and humidity has not yet set in. More than anything else aside from the extremely tightly scheduled (and early) work days], the heat is going to be my biggest challenge in coping with this job. (Also the sun. Pillbox hats provide no sun protection... interesting tan lines though.)

As yes, the tight schedule. Breaks are ten minutes. It takes ten minutes to remove the uniform to use the toilet, so one has to choose between that and anything else (i.e. drink of water, sunscreen). We also have to polish all brass at least once a day and polish our boots at least twice a day. I woke up at 5 a.m., got to work half an hour early, and still didn't come anywhere close to polishing everything before we started.

Drill training is intense, as I expected. There is an unbelievable amount of information to remember. Everything basically goes against nature. You can't move your arms when you walk. You can't move your eyeballs. You can't look at the commanding officer addressing you, unless you have been commanded to watch in which case they scream at you for not watching. You can't bend your knees when turning or shuffling. You can't correct yourself[2] when yelled at for doing something wrong. You can't imitate a motion that is being shown to you. You can't smile when an officer makes a joke. You can't move your feet for long periods of time (even when "at rest" or "at ease", and even if you landed on them in an uncomfortable position). The elbow is pointed straight down when saluting. The arms and hands are kept extremely tense and all movements are also extremely tense. You need to turn formally when leaving a superior's presence even when it will turn you away from your intended path of travel. You can't squint or close your eyes when facing into the sun, etc. etc.

We were insulted often, loudly, and viciously. And then they'd give us a speech about how much they care and how frustrated they understand we might get, how they're "addressing the uniform, not you", and how everybody was this bad at the beginning. Then they'd switch back to bellowing at you for failing to ask a question using the proper form of address. It was weird. I think I took corrections surprisingly well considering how sensitive I normally am to criticism. I'd get frustrated at myself (or frustrated at my neighbour if it was their fault for bumping into me) for doing it wrong but mostly managed not to feel personally insulted. It was keenly embarrassing that the musicians ("Drums", i.e. drums, bugle, fife players) couldn't keep a steady march beat ("cadence" as they call it) without speeding up.

In spite of all the kvetching above, I am still very excited about much that this job has to offer. On two staff tours (intended to prepare us for leading tours later) I learned even further what a fascinating place it is[3]. The awed response to our appearance by a couple of school groups was gratifying. I get to look at a gorgeous view on the bicycle ride over. If I can memorize all the information and get comfortable speaking, I look forward to leading tours. And in a strange masochistic way, I even enjoyed the challenge of the foot drill. It felt (very slightly) a bit like I was taking dance classes again. Besides, after all the work it took to get this job, I'm damned if I'm going to even consider quitting before I've at least made it through the first week.

[1] And because I took the photos for commemorative purposes anyway.
[2] You have to freeze, wait until the officer comes over to examine you in detail, then correct it when commanded (all the while staring through the person's head, of course). This contradicts everything I learned in ballet lessons.
[3] I hated that we weren't allowed to cross our arms, sit down, or lean against walls during the tour, however. This must be the only job where slouching is actually forbidden. (It says so in the rules.)