You know, I had someone recently refer to the restrictions put on my job as “nonsense”; I was deeply offended by this and couldn’t exactly put into words why. But I think I know now.
Please note: none of this is a complaint or a call for sympathy, or drama in any way. This is simply facts and an explanation where I think perhaps one is due; and perhaps a minor bit of venting.
This job, this wonderful, roller-coaster, crazy job – it’s not always so perfect. I trust the people I am in contact with at home to know that, to respect it.
Respect the fact that I live on a comparatively small moving vessel wherein nearly my every movement is dictated by someone else; from how I dress (and what time I change that dress at) to when I rise, to when I eat (and, in fact, if I eat), to when I sleep (again if ), to how I socialize. We are, in the end, all run by the bridge team; they run the management teams, who in turn run the departmental teams. We are under near constant scrutiny and while a lapse in judgement may not be addressed immediately, you can seldom assume that it is forgotten.
I do not always have access to the resources that may appear to be at my fingertips from the outside. There are restrictions on when we can patronize the shops, the photographers (especially on formal nights), the port shuttles, the buffet and even the elevators – guests always must come first, and we cannot be seen to do anything that may push ourselves ahead of them, even accidentally. If a guest is looking for a table at the buffet and you are already seated, you are expected to move, if a guest wants their photograph taken, you give up your spot in line. Our job is to make them the priority, and we can never ever violate that. Not for any reason. Not for anyone. Our lives are expected to fit into the slices in between other things, and that is not something that can be changed.
The hours are long; the days – especially the sea days – are stressful. I choose most of the time to only talk about the ‘national geographic’ side of my life, but those of you in my home circle know that there are shadows with the light. I expect – just as anyone has the right to – those restrictions to be respected; there are going to be times when I cannot do something as quickly as I would hope, there are going to be times I cannot maintain communication as easily as I would like, there are times when I would genuinely like to resolve a situation differently and the job does not allow me to. And when I say ‘the job’ I do not mean merely the hours I spend on duty, I mean the job that is my life, as in it dictates the way I must run my life. I start work at 8am I get off work at 10pm, on a sea day that means I put in a 10.5 to 11 hour day; on a port day I usually still work a full 8 – 9 hours, always on in the morning and the evening. As such, despite the fact that my day may have a break in the middle to do things like go to Huaca de la Luna and Tekal and other fantastic places, it still does not end until after 10pm. Those hours I am on duty are spent constantly taking abuse for things I cannot control, assisting people with highly important information that I oft times do not feel comfortable handling, being kept from proper meal breaks because everyone has ‘just one more question’ about how to set up their email, all while trying to maintain some semblance of order in a 5,000 book library that hasn’t been properly inventoried in three years.
When I get home, I crawl into the shower and out again, I turn on the TV and I fall asleep to Smallville or occasionally the evening news; because of the amount of things that are usually on my mind, this does not often occur before midnight, especially when we are on a night with a time change forward. I’m usually tackling those long days on under 8 hours of sleep. 7 days a week.
So please, if it appears that I am unable to make your priorities my priorities, it is not that I do not respect where your needs are coming from, it is not that I do not deeply regret being unable to meet them, it is that I do not have the physical capability of doing so. Just as I try and respect everyone else’s needs and livelihoods, I ask everyone else to respect mine. Just because I happen to live my life in a state of adventure does not mean that it’s easy, does not mean I can drop everything and do what I wish to any more than anyone else. I abide by a set of rules out here that I must obey or I will find myself very quickly not out here at all.
Respect that fact that what I am able to offer you is – at the time I am offering it – the best solution that I can give. Respect the fact that the guilt and remorse I feel for being unable to offer more is genuine.
Do not dismiss me, do not ever call what I do and the world in which I make a living nonsense. Would you want someone to do that to you? Please, just respect me and my livelihood the same way you would wish me to respect yours and everything will be – as my Mum always says – copacetic.
Bright blessings.