MIAMI

Algunos os estareis preguntando porque no volví a OLE! desde el principio de mi odisea laboral. Se me olvidó contaros que mi hija y yerno decidieron trasladarse a Tenerife--mi yerno es canario y ya no podía mas con Madrid--y allí montaron la agencia que la sigue llevando mi hija. Ahora os cuento lo de Miami. Mi otra hija, Bambi (Sofia), casada con un argentino, decidieron mudarse a Miami con sus tres hijos porque el tenía a su madre y hermanos viviendo en esa ciudad. Me animaron a que yo tambien fuera. Dicho y hecho, me mudé a Miami. Ellos se fueron primero, se instalaron y unos meses despues me fuí a su casa. Pero cometí el error de entrar a los U.S.A. con mi pasaporte español (el canadiense lo tenía caducado) y solo me podía quedar tres meses. En total me quedé dos años. En casa de mis hijos me quedé unos meses hasta que me mudé a South Beach (ellos vivian en Kendall- un suburbio típico americano). Tenía que buscar trabajo. No tenía papeles. Me enteré que en el mercado negro podías conseguir una "green card" por $300. La conseguí pero, claro, no podía acceder a un trabajo "bona fide" pero sí encontré trabajo como "hostess" (anfitriona) en un café muy de moda en la época--por cierto que yo era la única hostess de 50 años porque todas las demás eran modelos de 20--mi trabajo, basicamente, consistía en saludar a la gente, sentarlas y pasarles el menú. El lugar era muy simpático, era un bar de tapas, luego movían las mesas, y se podía bailar. Venían los hijos de Julio Iglesias, de Raphael (Alejandra, encantadora) y muchos "YUCAS" (Young Urban Cuban Americans). La verdad es que me lo pasé muy bien, era mi "fun job". Pero tenía que buscarme algo mejor... Un dia fui a la Oficina de Turismo Española a ver si habría posibilidad de trabajar ahí. No, sin tener todos los papeles en regla pero vi unos folletos de una agencia de viajes americana que hacían viajes por el Pais Vasco. (Continuará)

Maybe some of you are asking why I didn't go back to OLE! before my job hunting odyssey. I forgot to tell you that my daughter and son-in-law decided to move to Tenerife in the Canary Islands as he was Canarian and he was fed up with life in Madrid. They opened the agency there and my daughter is still running it. In the meantime, my other daughter Bambi (Sofia), her Argentinian husband and their three children decided to move to Miami as my son-in-law had his mother and brothers living there. They suggested that I should also go. Said and done, I moved to Miami. They went first and once they were settled, I moved in with them. But I committed the great mistake of entering the States with my Spanish passport as my Canadian one had expired. I was allowed three months. I stayed two years. After a few months living with my children, I moved to South Beach (they lived in Kendall - typical America suburbia). I had to find a job but I didn't have the famous "green card". I found out you could get one, in the black market, for $300. I got it. Of course I couldn't opt to a "bona fide" job but I found one as hostess in a very "in" café where, by the way, I was the only 50-year-old hostess in Miami Beach as all the rest were models in their twenties... It was a very lively place. They served tapas, afterwards, the tables were removed and one could dance. Julio Iglesias' children used to come, as well as Raphael's (Alejandra, very charming) and many YUCAS (Young Urban Cuban Americans). The truth is, I had a great time--it was my "fun" job. However, I had to find something better... One day I went to the Spanish National Tourist Office to find out if there would be a possibility of working there--not without regular papers. However, I saw some leaflets of an American travel agency that had tours to the Basque Country. (It will continue)