This week, Ken and I went to the Irish Design Week conference. The week brought together designers from across Ireland and Europe to discuss design and its impact on the world around us.
Design is something that Ken and I feel that we were born to do, in a way, with both our dads being prominent figures in the South African scene. It’s why we felt we could dare to start our own design business here in Ireland. Our blood has given us everything we need to succeed.
One of the questions asked at tonight’s design panel was, “What skill do your grandparents have that you envy?” I’m truly blessed with my grandparents, I know most people don’t have the privilege of even knowing all of their grandparents, never mind having good relationships with all of them as I do.
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On my mother’s side – her mother was born of two Irish immigrants. She was born in South Africa but lived in Ireland for a year as a baby. Her father was a prisoner of war in Italy (of all places) during World War II. Her mother was a nurse there. But South Africa was their land of opportunity, as Ireland now is for us. And they longed to leave that all in their past.
My grandmother is the gentlest soul you’ll ever meet. She can make anyone feel calm simply by being herself. But her demure demeanour didn’t stop her from becoming one of the hardest working people I know. My granny has worked for most (if not all) of her married life. She carried her family while my Granda studied further and again when he was enlisted in the South African army during the Boarder Wars. I grew up on the stories of her learning to type and sew in school – skills that would fare well in today’s world and yet seem so far away. She adapted to the ever-changing world around her, and with no degree or other education – she managed to stay ahead enough of the game to continue playing until her recent retirement.
My mom’s parents on their wedding day.
My granny always taught me to take care of myself – to use face cream after washing my face. To splurge on the slighter, nicer things, like perfume and shoes, so that I would be using the best. She always treated me like a princess, and I learnt how to treat myself the same.
I envy my granny’s resilience. Her life was never an easy one – neither love, money, work or marriage came easily to her, yet she always prevailed. I would be proud to get to her age and be known by those around me to be as determined and persevering as she is.
My Granda (my mom’s dad) has Scottish heritage, but from much further down the line than my Irish. My Granda is a proud man, discovering and owning as much of his heritage as he was able to discover. You see, my Granda’s parents both died before he was even a real man, and his upbringing after their deaths was cold and cruel. And yet, through his pride in himself, he was able to make the most of any situation he found himself in.
My granny and Granda.
My Granda learnt how to teach himself things. It sounds like a skill everyone might have, but it isn’t so simple to learn something you know nothing about without being taught it. Most people stop learning things when they leave school, forever to the adult they entered the “real world” as. But not him. My Granda learnt to learn and took it into every area of life he could.
He studied and got his master’s. He worked as an engineer. He served to keep the peace during unrestful years in South Africa. He helped restore locomotive engines. He raised two daughters (if you met my grandfather, you’d understand just how much of a task this must’ve been for the stout man). My Grandfather, who came from such a broken world, created a life for himself that he could be proud of. And now I carry that pride with me.
I wish to learn to be as adaptive as he, forever curious about new technologies and determined to learn them and use them. He is not scared of the world changing, but instead, embracing it and making himself useful with these new tools. What an envious skill to have, indeed.
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On my dad’s side – I have two of the most intelligent and stubborn people I’ve ever met. I lived with my Dad and my grandparents from the age of sixteen until I was married at 22.
My grandfather – or Papa as I call him – is of multiple European descents – and is a third-generation South African – making me a sixth. He grew up wealthier than his spouse, and together, they have lived to see the landing on the moon, the end of Apartheid, the beginning of computerisation, the invention of the internet and now artificial intelligence. They have lived through all their wedding vows – sickness and health, richer and poorer, better and worse. And whether they know it or not, their stubbornness to live life together for so long is one of my greatest inspirations.
My Papa as a teenager.
My Papa is an inventor (how cool is that?). He spent his adult life creating products that were designed to improve big public corporations, like railways. My Papa is, in every way, a visionary. He can see just how impactful something can be and doesn’t let fear ever stop him from dreaming. He tackles every project with a stubborn determination that it will succeed and has created incredible ideas in turn.
I think I inherited my Papa’s ambition and vision – dreaming of exciting, world-changing ideas. And yet, I still feel as if I am held back by fear more often than not. If I could learn one thing from my Papa, it would be to simply decide you’re going to do something and not let anything get in the way.
Unlike my Papa, who never finished his degree, my grandmother has multiple. As the academic of the family, my gran always instilled the importance of education into all of us. My grandmother is a teacher and psychologist – if that gives you any indication of what it might have been like to live with her.
Most of what I learnt from my gran was direct. She taught me how to socialise and contextualise. She taught me how to critically analyse my circumstances and never take anything at face value – especially my education.
My Gran as a little girl.
My Dad’s parents on their wedding day.
For many years, my grandmother was my best friend. We had so much in common it made spending time with her very easy. If I was having a bad day, she’d always be there to counsel me through my tears. And on good days, we’d explore the local second-hand stores and coffee shops.
My gran taught me how to be frugal, a skill I am ever so grateful for now that I’m living in one of the most expensive cities in Europe. She always tried to make the most of what we had – which wasn’t always a lot. My gran is surprisingly snobbish but in the best way. She likes her house to be organised and well-kept (I don’t remember a single day when her bed wasn’t made), and she only tells people the things she wants them to know about her.
I’m not really a fan of secrets, but I do understand the importance of discretion, although it is a skill I have not yet mastered. That is the skill I would choose to learn from her.
I am so grateful to have had the close time I had with my grandparents (on both sides). I feel my life is so much richer and filled with love because of it. The combination of resilience and adaptiveness produced my mother, and the combination of vision and intelligence produced my father, and the combination of all of the above produced me – at least, the me I strive to learn to be.
I had no plan for the start of my day, so I let the wind decide where I would go this Sunday.I had no plan for the start of my day, so I let the wind decide.
The seasons have fully changed here. The wind is icy against your skin and the trees are varying shades of orange. As I walked I enjoyed taking in the cycle of the natural world around me. The autumn leaves moved in swirls across the streets I walked, creating tornados of colour for the world to admire.
I walked towards the Liffey River in search of a good coffee shop to cheer my downcast soul when the sound of church bells called me. Christ Church Cathedral has been ringing its bells every Sunday for nearly 1000 years. The methodic metal chimes bring a sense of peace that is missed by the cars and buses rushing along. But the walkers got to embrace the song of the church and let it fill them like it filled me.
I continued to meander around the streets of Dublin until I stumbled across Il Valentino Bakery and Café. This quaint coffee shop (which doesn’t seem to have settled on its aesthetic yet) offers a beautiful range of pastries and sandwiches. I ordered a Raspberry Scone to go with my Latte and watched the people come and go from the shop while I ate.
The coffee wasn’t amazing, but the scone was lovely and I’d definitely go back to try more of their pastries on offer.
It’s now 11:30, my stomach is full, the caffeine is working, and I’m reading for a slow Sunday adventure.It’s now 11:30, my stomach is full, the caffeine is working, and I’m ready for a slow Sunday adventure. www.dublin.ie has a full list of markets on in and around the city with dates, times and an idea of what is for sale at each. I found out that there every Sunday from 11am – 4pm there is a market on in St. Patrick’s Park. So, I headed there.
St. Patrick’s Park – the park outside the famous Cathedral – is just a few minutes walk from Christ Church Cathedral. St. Patrick’s Cathedral is 800 years old, but infinitely more famous than Christ Church Cathedral as it is the church of Ireland’s patron saint. The building is the biggest Cathedral in Ireland and considered one of the most important pilgrimage sites in the country.
How incredible to be able to casually walk to such a great capsule of history on a Sunday afternoon?
The market was small but every stall offered something unique to buy. I treated myself to a pair of gold-plated fresh- water-pearl earrings from Pearl Bon Bon for €12 and a beautiful copy of The Dubliners by James Joyce.
I sat on one of the park benches, whose old seat had been worn away by years of passersby just like me and began to read my newly bought book. Kendal also bought a book – ‘Do Androids dream of Electronic Sheep?’- which I just thought was the perfect juxtaposition of our personalities; me reading about the lives of everyday people in 1914, Ireland, and Kendal reading about the AI future.
We took the rest of the easy, resting our minds from decision making, and getting infinitely more excited for our evening plans.
Six by Nico is a 6-course, fine- dining experience that changes its menu every 6 weeks. We went a few months ago to their Amalfi Coast -inspired tasting lunch. It was an incredible experience and so, when I saw the theme for this menu I made a booking as they launched.
Hollywood inspired dinner!
I cannot explain my excitement to you except that I did audibly shriek when they announced this menu. It is more of a pricey experience, at €55 per person. But it’s honestly worth trying at least one of their menus if you’re visiting Ireland. I doubt you’ll be disappointed.
We spent two, lovely hours enjoying the six beautiful courses and our complimentary starters and prosecco – because I’m a VIP (subscriber to their emails lol).
I won’t go into too much detail on the menu but I will say that the first course was one of the best things I’ve ever eaten, and it was displayed on a shell! A real life shell! How cool is that?
Stomachs full and hearts satisfied with the day, we braced ourselves for the ice cold walk home. What a full, and yet calm, day.
I hope you choose to do something that fills you this week.
Do you ever feel like your life moves in seasons? Not always by the ones determined by the rotation of the earth, but rather by the turmoils (or lack thereof) that life throws at you. For the last three years I felt like I’d been stuck in the winter of life, until now.
When Covid began, I felt my life fall into autumn. Everything I had worked so hard to build for myself was starting to fall away. In March 2020, I had 3 part time jobs on top of my full time degree. I was creating YouTube videos for my channel every week. I was shadowing a director. I had a really great group of friends. I was newly in love, and everything in my life felt like it was moving in the direction I wanted it to. And then it all slipped away.
The leaves of my life began to brown and fall to the ground, I lost my jobs and many of my friends. I started taking medication for my anxiety. I lost my motivation to create. It felt as if the winds had shifted in my life and the growth I had once seen all around me was now fading into darkness.
It wasn’t all bad, just as no season ever is. There are many moments I’m immensely grateful for and things we did I’m so proud of. I got married and I moved overseas. Two really big, really brave, really exciting life changes.
But winter remained. The frost killed our crops and the snow storms rattled our windows. And just as in real winters, we wondered if the cold would ever leave us. The world was dark and it became really hard to look to the future with longing. All you can do is wait. For three long years, I waited. And as determined as I was, it was hard sometimes to hold onto hope. I just kept reminding myself that it was only a season. And spring would soon come.
In Ireland, the worst 2 weeks of winter are just before spring breaks. It’s the coldest it gets, with the days really short. Everyone will tell you it’s the worst time of year here, but there is hope. Because you know that soon enough the skies will clear, the flowers will bloom, and you know that life will soon be brighter.
This year, just as the winds in Ireland shifted to autumn, I felt the winds in my life shift. Something big had changed, something intangible and yet very real. I kept looking back to who I was this time last year and couldn’t help but feel so far away from the depressed and hopeless girl I was. Spring has sprung in my life, brighter days are coming.
I feel alive again. Ready to tackle the goals I’ve had sitting on the back burner for the last three years. I feel as if, by moving house, changing jobs and realigning myself with my passions, that I’ve deep cleaned my life. I’ve weeded the garden and pruned the branches. I’ve created room in my life for new. I’m ready to grow again. To travel and experience new things. To let my life bloom and let myself blossom.
As I sit here (in yet another new coffee shop I’m trying), I can’t help but feel the excitement for life brew inside of me. I’m open to new experiences, new relationships, new hobbies and fashion styles. New adventures. I’ve started working on my book again. We’ve planned a few upcoming trips. We’ve been decorating our little apartment.
All feels well in the world. It feels anew.
And I’m not trying to be naive about it. I know winter will come again. But I’m on a mission in my life to try and enjoy the now. And I implore you to do the same. Every season of life brings something beautiful… the spring brings flowers, the summer brings warmth, the autumn brings colour and the winter brings snow. And maybe the biggest difference you can make in your life is changing how you view it.
When you feel the winds shift, try to prepare for the season to come. And when it arrives, appreciate all it has to bring.
I’m preparing for summer in my life. For growth and character development. For stability and warmth. I’m planting flowers I want to grow, I’m making space for things I want to gain. And so, with a heart full, and arms open I say, “Hello Spring, I’ve missed you.”
With love, from Dublin, Chey
There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens: A time to be born and a time to die, A time to plant and a time to uproot A time to kill and a time to heal A time to tear down and a time to build A time to weep and a time to laugh A time to mourn and a time to dance A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing A time to search and a time to give up A time to keep and a time to throw away A time to tear and a time to mend A time to be silent and a time to speak A time to love and a time to hate A time for war and a time for peace… [and] He has made everything beautiful in its time.
August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The Odd Uneven Time.
~ Sylvia Plath
There is something very primal about dreading the winter in a land that sees such little sun. The Irish joke about the rain and the dark days to come, but underlying it all is an accepted fear that days will no longer feel like days, but rather short bursts of lighter grey amid long, wet nights.
“Get used to it,” my Irish friend said to me as I shared my dreaded memory of 3 full weeks of seeing no sun last winter. “It’s very normal”, she said.
And yet I can’t help but think about how completely abnormal it is to live without the sun dictating the time of day. Or drying out the morning rain. Here, it’s dark, and it’s rainy. And when the icy wind blows it makes you understand how people lose their fingers to frostbite.
But it’s too soon to be dreading the winter. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself so as not to succumb to my fear of the seasonal depression that gripped me so last year.
No, this year things will be better. Things are better.
I’m two weeks into my new job in the city. I’m working in a local coffee shop in Dublin City – ticking off one of my life goals: learn to make a good cup of coffee.
I’m getting used to early starts rather than late closes, even though it means some days I leave before Ken wakes up and go to sleep before he gets home…
Having every evening off is a widely new experience for me and I’m constantly on the lookout for exciting things to fill the time with.
If the sun is out then you’ll find me at 📍St. Stephen’s Green Park, reading or writing. The evenings are still warm enough to enough the slowly setting sun falling on the trees.
I’ve found my mind very open to new experiences lately. I went to a free philosophy lecture one night – Finding the Hero Within. What an eye-opening experience. It was like my feelings lately had been confirmed in this one evening: I am capable of great things and I have a duty to share my strengths. So I started writing my book again. Discovering more and more the story that feels buried within me.
I went to a Sip & Paint evening with a friend. It’s a fabulous girl’s night out if you’re looking for one – hosted by Paint by the Pint. You get a glass of wine and canvas, and the instructor talks you through painting your masterpiece; no experience needed. I, however, am experienced, and couldn’t help but engage my competitive core and outpaint all of the others. Ha.
Yesterday I signed up for a photoshoot for a media campaign for a local makeup brand: Sculpted by Aimee. This was a very uncomfortable position to be in and yet, in a strange turn of events, I really enjoyed it! Should I organise a couple’s photoshoot?!
(If you know of any good Dublin-based photographers let me know in the comments).
Culture Night in Dublin
After enjoying all these new experiences, I find myself checking the Events app every couple of days to see what other exciting things I might sign up for. This Friday is culture night in Dublin. There are so many exciting free things to do in the city, especially planned to celebrate all things art and culture.
Maybe I’ll sign up for a beginner’s ballet class at 📍Liffey Trust Studios? Maybe I’ll go eat artisanal bread and pastries at 📍The Bretzel Bakery? Maybe I’ll learn how to tattoo a banana at 📍Dublin Ink?
I’m not sure yet…
If you’re looking to try a new experience and celebrate the Irish culture in the process, check out www.culturenight.ie to see all of the free events going on this Friday, the 20th of September!
And maybe that’s how the Irish survive the long, harsh winters – they fill their evenings with good craic. Therefore there is always something to look forward to and the “odd uneven time” won’t feel so empty of warmth.
The sky is grey today. And while you’re probably reading this thinking, ‘Well, that’s Ireland for you’, it’s actually been almost sunny most days this summer. Summer this year has definitely been more enjoyable than last year. Ken thinks it’s because we’ve acclimatised to the 20-degree “heat waves”. I think it might have to do with the fact that we’re in the city now – everywhere you go there is something new to explore and you have to walk in the ‘sunshine’ to get there.
Last summer, we were living in a double bedroom in a disgustingly dirty shared house. It was a 10-minute walk to the mall where we worked, and there wasn’t much else to do in our town besides go to the mall. Yes, we did still wear our jerseys every day of the season, but there also wasn’t much to do in the little bit of sun we got.
I remember 2 sunny days and both of them were us lying on a picnic blanket on the embankment of the stream that runs through Swords. We lay there for hours reading and enjoying the birds in the trees and the gentle swooshing of the water passing us by.
Now, we’re used to the constant chill in the air. And our days are spent exploring the bustling city of Dublin.
Usually, our Sundays begin with getting ready for church, but with no service this week, we decided to enjoy the last day of our holiday week, gently exploring.
We grabbed a quick bite to eat from Cafe Nero (a well-designed yet usually dreary coffee chain) on our way to a pop-up market in Charlemont Square.
The market was quaint – displaying the usual goodies you expect to find at a local market – crocheted goodies, hand made pottery, paintings and prints, antiques, and vintage clothing.
The food and drink side of the market was lacking somewhat, with only one baked goods stand (that happened to be vegan) and no coffee in sight. But the vibes were great and made us feel like young artists living in the city.
Places like this always make you feel like dreams are possible. Want to make jewellery – go for it! Do you love baking – sell it! Are you an artist trying to get out in to the world – then set up a stall!
The world of small businesses thrived during The Dreaded C, and I’ve often wondered if the world of capitalising on your hobbies is dead. Maybe it’s the age bracket I’m in now, but everyone seems to be settling for boring jobs they don’t care for.
When you come out of university – everyone believes they can make something great of themselves. They’ve spent 4 years learning and meeting like-minded people and they all dream of making their own way – not caving into the system of corporate schedules.
Or maybe that’s just South Africa.
When you live in a country where more than HALF of the working population is unemployed – you feel you have no choice but to make a job for yourself. All my friends I went to university with (besides those who became teachers and doctors) have started their own businesses. I miss living in that world. Where only certain jobs guaranteed stability and they were very hard to come by. So everyone was accustomed to the hustle-culture and they believed they could make something great.
In a country where the lowest-income jobs are still liveable, people don’t dream of starting businesses or making crazy life-altering decisions, they find their adventures in the old-fashioned way; travel.
I feel myself losing some of my ambition here. In South Africa, I never would have settled for a corporate job. I worked my day job and had a small business. I also did freelance designing and editing on the side. I was a hustler. A more-than-survivor. But I feel I’ve lost that here.
But markets make you dream. And I have nothing else to do with my time right now except try – so I might as well.
We ended our gentle-exploration by trying a new coffee-shop and accidentally falling in love. 📍Brother Hubbard has the best coffee we’ve tried in Ireland so far! It’s creaming and gentle on the tongue. The flavours are nutty and full. (And they serve their sugar in vintage baking-powder tins which just reminds us of Afrikaans tin-aesthetic – taking us home.)
We spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying our favourite TV show as I prepared for the week of job-hunting ahead.
I hope your week is full of dreams. With love, from Dublin. Chey
I’ve just quit my gruelling waitress job, and for so many reasons, I am glad my first job in a foreign country was a restaurant job. Here are 10 reasons why you should do the same:
1. Free Food
Who doesn’t love free food?! No, but seriously, when you first move to a new country, making ends meet can seem like a daunting task, and having at least one meal a day free of charge (one that’s probably more nutritious than you’re used to making anyway) can help a lot. It also relieves a lot of the mental pressure of cooking while you’re getting your immigration affairs in order.
My restaurant also offers a discount to my friends and family – allowing Ken to eat a good full meal every now and again too. Most places don’t offer this, but if you’re savvy about it (and used to not eating a lot) you can take your leftovers home and make them stretch an extra meal.
And if something is going out of date today, take it home and eat it yourself. Or freeze it to use another time. Restaurants have to use the freshest ingredients and will often discard them before they’re actually bad.
The number of times we’ve enjoyed a late-night cheesecake because they were going out of date is uncanny.
So enjoy your free food, Nomad! Eating out every single day is a luxury you wont get in any other job. (except maybe a food blogger – what a dream).
2. It’s easy to make friends
Leaving your family and friends (and everything you’ve ever known) to move across the world to a foreign country, can leave you feeling *slightly lonely.
The thing about working in a high-intensity environment is that you tend to rely on your co-workers a lot more than I think you would in a corporate environment. You’ll bond over the rude person at table 7 or laugh about how many plates you’ve broken. The culture of a restaurant’s staff is usually lighthearted and more fun than other jobs.
And the thing about working weird shifts and unsocial hours – is that everyone else there is doing the same. So the only people they get to hang out with are other restaurant workers. It creates a great social space.
Plus, you’ll find people of all ages and life stages working in a restaurant, especially if you’re closer to the city centre of the capital of a country. You’ll find people who have been working there for 10 years, or travellers just getting a few bucks before they move on. You’ll find people with all different kinds of world-views and experiences, many of whom might have travelled the same journey as you.
3. You’ll get some good advice
You’re going to be so grateful to find yourself caught up in the mash-up pond that is a restaurant when you first immigrate. There are wildly-specific expertise to be found in almost everyone who works there; many of whom will have gone through the exact process you are going through.
When I was trying to get my tax number and figure out the healthcare system, many of my colleagues gave me great advice on what I should be doing. Many of them have also left their families behind and know how lonely it can be and will come alongside you.
My advice: ask questions. Let people know what you’re going through and you’ll find, more often than not, some great steps to take to overcome your new-country troubles.
PS: You’ll also get the best recommendations for food, activities and pubs nearby (the locals always know the best spots!)
4. You learn the country’s culture quickly
One of the most important things to understand, when moving to a foreign country, is culture. Even moving from one English-speaking, British-colonised country to another, there are things to learn.
What’s considered polite and impolite, how has history impacted society’s current outlook on things, how does tax work? How much is a reasonable amount to spend on a pair of shoes or cup of coffee?!
It is much easier to get accepted into a society when you behave as their people do. Sometimes it’s big changes, sometimes it’s the subtleties.
More often than not, people are willing to answer your questions or teach you things you might not know. But for the most part, you might not even need to ask, you can simply observe. You will learn how people greet one another when they arrive at a table to meet their friends. You will learn who in the society are highly regarded and who are not. You will learn how people use their money. You will learn about current fashion trends. You will learn how to approach the country in the way that it’s own people do.
5. You’re forced to use the language in it’s colloquial sense
Working at a restaurant is great for learning a new language. Off the bat you’re forced to learn how to greet people and communicate essential needs: food, bathroom, coffee etc. Many people at The Grill have come from non-English speaking countries and within 2 months have learnt how to have small conversations. (I honestly have so much respect for people who do this. If you’re a person who moved to country not knowing the language and learnt it – you’re amazing! Bravo!)
And if you’re English-speaking and working at a restaurant in a non-English country (even if that restaurant operates in English for tourists) you have the best opportunity to learn how to speak the country’s language because the people working there do.
But it’s not just about knowing a language, it’s about learning how to use it to speak like the locals do. I have learnt so much Irish slang, working in an all-English restaurant in an all-English country, that has helped to me to connect with the locals and sound more like them.
6. You’ll stay fit
Who needs a gym membership when you’re averaging more than 10 000 steps a day anyway.
Carrying 20kg bags of trash to the dump and walking up and down the same square footage everyday might sound awful but I guarantee that you’ll feel so much better for it. I’m so much stronger and much more capable of physical tasks now than I was when I arrived in Ireland.
Travelling has become so much easier because I’m now used to being on my feet for 8 hours a day. When we went to London, Ken and I walked for hours without feeling tired. Learning to walk a lot is absolutely essential for travelling around Europe and it’s small roads and tiny towns. And there’s no better place to practice than the restaurant floor.
7. There are opportunities for growth
Working at a restaurant is a great place to figure out your life. With flexible shift hours and weekdays off, you can get a lot more admin done than the average 9-5, Monday-Friday job would allow. It’s great if you want to earn money while going for interviews for other jobs or work a couple of side hustles to save.
Maybe working in a restaurant isn’t a part of your long-term immigration plan, but if you find yourself there with no plan at all, it’s a great place to work your way up into a management role. Getting into a restaurant doesn’t require any training or previous experience and more often than not, you can prove yourself worthy and climb the internal ladder all the way to the top if you want to.
7. You’ll learn to problem solve
Problem-solving is not inherent and immigrating requires a lot of it.
A great place to learn how to handle the pressure of an ever-changing environment is a restaurant. Not only will you learn to pick yourself up and keep going on the bad days, you’ll learn to do it with your customers-are-always-right smile on your face.
It sounds harsh, but I promise that you’ll come out a tougher and quicker-thinker after working in a restaurant for a while. It’s not praised work and that can humble you somedays. But you’ll learn how to quickly solve issues so that they don’t grow into bigger problems. You’ll learn how to stand your ground with people in a calm manner, even if they’re being rude to your face.
And you’ll learn how to put out fires – literally and figuratively.
Looking back at my time at The Grill, I feel as if I can step into any high-pressure environment and thrive there.
6. More free stuff
I love digging in the trash at work.
I’m not talking about the gross food waste or anything that can make me super dirty or sick, just the ‘dry’ waste. Like glass and cardboard and random bits and bobs.
I have an entire collection of giant glass jars I (carefully) picked out of the bins. After washing them, sanitising them and then spray-painting the lids, they hold the dry goods in my cupboard – like my homemade muesli.
When we moved house, I spent a week collecting cardboard boxes that were on their way to recycling and reused them instead.
I once saw the chairs we replaced just sitting outside waiting for the garbage removal system to take them. Free dining room? Yes, please!
And if something breaks and you know you can fix it, just ask if you can have it or take it on your way home. We got a free portable speaker because my husband is a tech genius.
You’ll save yourself so much money grabbing cool things you spot heading to the landfills and you can pat yourself on the back for saving the planet while doing it.
10. It will improve your sense of self
You’ll learn many skills working at a restaurant: how to cook food, how to properly clean your space, how to interact with different people, how to engage with difficult customers, how to take complements, how to stay positive, how to treat blisters on your feet, how to speak like the locals do, how to use your money more wisely, how to teach people new skills, how to transfer what you have learnt to any new environment you find yourself in next…
And with every new thing you learn, your belief in yourself to do difficult things grows. You start to find your strengths in the chaos of a busy shift, you start to consider what you might actually want to do with your life when the restaurant is quiet. You’ll start to believe that you, a stranger to this country and its customs, might actually belong here. And maybe you’ll even start dreaming about what you might do next.
So, dear Nomad, if you’re wondering what kind of work to do with no experience, no expertise and no people to recommend you, then head to your nearby restaurants. You never know what you might walk away with.
We're Ken & Chey - a young South African couple currently exploring Ireland. We're adventurer's writers, musicians, tech nerds and vloggers who love Jesus and coffee.
This is our adventure and we're so excited to share it with you.