As part of my visa process (of to be precise - waiting on it - process) I am not allowed to work here. So I looked up some volunteering (got rejected by some (one would think it will be easy to work, unpaid, eh?), then I finally landed this job in a secondhand shop selling clothes, shoes, a bit of books and collectibles. It belongs to a charity organisation which main aim to raise money and support for crisis condition, loosely connected to a denomination of religious organisation.
My main job is ironing, steaming, basically checking the newly arrived clothes to be in the condition for sale (no damages, properly colour coded, put in a correct hangers(!), put together is likewise clothes), I learnt to work on the cash register (or till, here as they call it - don't ask me why), have a small talk with the customers (not too much, thanks God), tidying up the fragile collectibles (china and ceramics - oh how it made me nervous as I keep thinking "oh I will break this one, I swear" then I will repeat that again when I pick the next item), dusting - all the tasks you name to keep the shop (front and back - where the staffs work and rest) tidy.
At first, I enjoy the novelty of this job (this is the closest form of "KFC waiter" job which I keep telling people as my dream job;)). Then later on I found my zen in ironing, where my body just react to the routine task (pick the shirt, iron, iron, check for any damage, iron, put back on the hanger, put at the stand to put it on the shop) while my mind was on idle mode
What I can observed from this business.. all the politics, backstabbing, talking behind other people back, nitpicking, miscommunication - all the same (and there I was thinking to myself - gosh.. it's just over some clothes!...second-hand ones!)
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