Today I realized that I have never really shared much about my actual job in Epcot. You might say, "Maddi. You're a custodian. You bump into people with a mop bucket and jingle keys around all day." And I might reply, "I'm sorry sir/ma'am. You're sorely mistaken. You forgot the part where I clean toilets and disinfect vomitey sidewalks." And then you might reply, "Well, then. Please tell me more." And so I shall.
I really do love my job. It's probably a good thing that my dad is such a clean freak because I grew up to be a natural organizer and perfectionist in that sense. And the things that I'm about to discuss make up about 35% of my time working. The other 65% of my time is spent standing or walking around the World Showcase with my pan and broom, keeping things tidy and answering hundreds of guest's questions every single day. Those are the things I usually blog about, so here are the tasks that make up the 35%!
Bathroom Mirrors - This floored me during training. Do you want to know how Disney keeps streak-free mirrors? Water and paper towels. That's it! And it works! So save yourself some money and toxic inhalants and stick with a moist paper towel next time.
Dispensers - When it comes to paper towel dispensers, soap dispensers, trash can holders, and all of the stainless steel hardware in the restroom, we have very specific instructions. I was never aware that this happened, but apparently some guests like to check the cleanliness of the restroom by opening anything they can find. I don't know about you, but when I'm in a public restroom, the last desire I have is to touch an extra handle to see how grimy the employees let the inside of the trash can get. But, that's not important. So, when we clean the restroom every 45 minutes, we wipe these down inside and out. Check it out next time... if you dare.
Trash Liners - When it comes to the plastic trash liners, the more the merrier. At the minimum, there should be three in each trash can. Do you want to know why? Here is an example. The other day I went to pull a trash can and my eyes beheld an overflowing can. Those are lovely. This one happened to be filled with a couple hundred half-full soda cups and weighed about 80 pounds and leaked out of the bottom a mixture of beer, strawberry icee, and diet coke. If there were only one liner I would have been in trouble. However, I was just able to pull two more liners out with the top bag and carry a non-leaking, more sturdy bag to the trash compactor. And I was excited about that... Winning!
Trash Wipe-Downs - As the trash gets pulled every hour and a half or so, we wipe down and disinfect the trash cans. Those things are cleaner than your hands, people.
Sidewalks - Every night after the park closes, a crew comes in a power washes every square inch of the park. Also, every time there is a wine, soda, vomit, beer, poop, ice cream, gum, coffee or food spill (and yes, I have experienced each and every one of those) someone is radioed to take care of it. We don't just leave it to wash away naturally, we make sure the sidewalk is as good as new before any staining happens. When you're in a Disney Park, take a good look at the ground and keep in mind that it is, for the most part, the same spotless cement poured 29 (Epcot), 40 (Magic Kingdom), or 56 (Disneyland) years ago. Dang impressive.
There is much more but those are my favorites at the moment :) So the next time you're child touches a trash can or crawls on the floor in a restroom, lower your voice when you yell at them. I know it's a disgusting thought and I would probably yell about how dirty it is too, but it's a stab in the heart to the custodian standing behind you holding towels and disinfectant who had been slaving away for an hour straight on that floor. I've held my tears in though ;)
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Grateful to be Alone
It's a funny thing, living alone in Orlando for four months. I didn't think it would be much different than living alone in Rexburg for four months. News flash: it is. The biggest difference is the definition of alone. Being alone in Rexburg meant living with or within walking distance from my best friends from high school. It meant having family a short 30 minute drive away and more family a four hour drive away. It meant living with roommates who turned into some of the best friends I've ever had. It meant church every Sunday, devotional every Tuesday, and a temple just a twenty minute walk away. It meant being able to go home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. On the other hand, being alone in Orlando means living in separate states as my best friends from high school and missing two of their weddings. It means having family a 6 hour, $300 plane ride away. It means living in an empty, quiet apartment because my roommates and I have opposite working schedules. It means church every other Sunday if I'm lucky. It means working 12 hours on Thanksgiving and Christmas, knowing how much fun my family is having.
After almost three months, I've realized how different alone can be and I have learned a very valuable lesson from it. First of all, alone never really means alone. My Savior has been by my side this entire time and He is my best friend. He has made up for all of the hugs I have missed out on from my best friends in California, Idaho, Utah, Oregon, and Colombia. I have been blessed to have family members and friends who will spend hours on the phone with me when they don't really know that that is what keeps me going. I'm not alone, but moments like these are more difficult. I'm sitting in my room, in my empty apartment knowing that my family is making the 75 minute drive to Modesto accompanied by Christmas music, cold weather, and holiday decorations to visit family, watch the news with Grandma and Grandpa late into the night, wake up in the morning to the smell of turkey and curl up in a blanket on the couch to watch the Thanksgiving Day Parade, and volunteer at the dinner for the homeless. I would give absolutely anything to be there with them.
Being home for the holidays is something I will cherish every year. So please don't ever take it for granted. Every time you walk into a house filled with people who love you, take a deep breath and look around. The laughter, the hugs, and the stories are things that may not come every year. The magic of Disney is amazing, but nothing is comparable to the magic of the Holidays with people you love. I feel lucky to have this experience to teach me this lesson. I could not have learned it any other way than for it to break me down the way it has. I am so grateful for the memories I have of years past with my family, for the knowledge that being alone sucks and this is the only year I will ever do this to myself, and for the opportunity to make more memories in the years to come.
Happy Thanksgiving!
I love you!
After almost three months, I've realized how different alone can be and I have learned a very valuable lesson from it. First of all, alone never really means alone. My Savior has been by my side this entire time and He is my best friend. He has made up for all of the hugs I have missed out on from my best friends in California, Idaho, Utah, Oregon, and Colombia. I have been blessed to have family members and friends who will spend hours on the phone with me when they don't really know that that is what keeps me going. I'm not alone, but moments like these are more difficult. I'm sitting in my room, in my empty apartment knowing that my family is making the 75 minute drive to Modesto accompanied by Christmas music, cold weather, and holiday decorations to visit family, watch the news with Grandma and Grandpa late into the night, wake up in the morning to the smell of turkey and curl up in a blanket on the couch to watch the Thanksgiving Day Parade, and volunteer at the dinner for the homeless. I would give absolutely anything to be there with them.
Being home for the holidays is something I will cherish every year. So please don't ever take it for granted. Every time you walk into a house filled with people who love you, take a deep breath and look around. The laughter, the hugs, and the stories are things that may not come every year. The magic of Disney is amazing, but nothing is comparable to the magic of the Holidays with people you love. I feel lucky to have this experience to teach me this lesson. I could not have learned it any other way than for it to break me down the way it has. I am so grateful for the memories I have of years past with my family, for the knowledge that being alone sucks and this is the only year I will ever do this to myself, and for the opportunity to make more memories in the years to come.
Happy Thanksgiving!
I love you!
Friday, November 18, 2011
An End, a Favor, and an Invention
The Food and Wine Festival is over! It went out with a bang... literally... as I stood among 60,000 guests in the World Showcase watching fireworks at 9:00 on Sunday evening. It was a crazy six weeks but I actually teared up during those last few moments. I had grown to love the 13-hour-shifts, the exotic smells every few steps, the drunken compliments, and the live concerts every night. The break rooms always filled with cooks, custodians, character assistants, and craftsmen comparing hours of sleep and hours worked that day. We all became one big team because, when a baby's diaper explodes on the sidewalk and an intoxicated woman is vomiting a few feet away, costumes and titles don't matter anymore. It was tough, it was long, but it was so memorable. And the next day we were back to 17,000 guests in the park. And holiday decorations :) The 80 foot Christmas tree, no I'm not exaggerating, the garlands, the wreaths, the poinsettias, the ornaments, the classic Christmas instrumental soundtrack, and the re-enactment stages are beautiful. It's just kind of a bummer when I have to experience them while sweating in 85 degree weather. It doesn't seem right...
I now have one favor to ask of everyone and one idea for a new invention to share.
The favor is whenever you are in public and you decide to drop your trash on the ground, do it obviously. I truly don't mind sweeping up trash - it's my job. I won't ever understand the difficulty of reaching a trash can, but it is difficult for some. The point when it becomes frustrating is when I have to reach my broom over and under and around tables and benches because you thought you were so sneaky in setting your soda cup out of the way. News flash: that was not cool. If you're going to litter, do it where I can see it and pick or sweep it up easily.
The new invention is adult strollers. You might say, don't they have wheelchairs and scooters for that? Let's compare. Do wheelchairs have sun covers? Padded, reclining seats? Food trays? Cup holders? Seat belts? No. Several times a day, I find myself watching a child passing by being pushed in a stroller and wonder why that can't be me. I know it may not look socially acceptable at first to see an adult in an adult-sized stroller, belted in, napping as his/her spouse pushes him/her around, but we have to start somewhere. You can make a difference. This is how. Jump into a stroller.
I now have one favor to ask of everyone and one idea for a new invention to share.
The favor is whenever you are in public and you decide to drop your trash on the ground, do it obviously. I truly don't mind sweeping up trash - it's my job. I won't ever understand the difficulty of reaching a trash can, but it is difficult for some. The point when it becomes frustrating is when I have to reach my broom over and under and around tables and benches because you thought you were so sneaky in setting your soda cup out of the way. News flash: that was not cool. If you're going to litter, do it where I can see it and pick or sweep it up easily.
The new invention is adult strollers. You might say, don't they have wheelchairs and scooters for that? Let's compare. Do wheelchairs have sun covers? Padded, reclining seats? Food trays? Cup holders? Seat belts? No. Several times a day, I find myself watching a child passing by being pushed in a stroller and wonder why that can't be me. I know it may not look socially acceptable at first to see an adult in an adult-sized stroller, belted in, napping as his/her spouse pushes him/her around, but we have to start somewhere. You can make a difference. This is how. Jump into a stroller.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Parlex-vous español?
I know I have made small comments about the international-ness of my job before, but I don't think I've done it justice yet. I work in World Showcase in Epcot which consists of eleven different pavilions representing eleven different countries (Mexico, Norway, China, Germany, Italy, America, Japan, Morocco, France, UK, and Canada). The over 500 cast members who work in those pavilions are actually from the country they represent, usually here on a one-year Visa. I, being a custodial cast member and assigned to a different country every day, have the opportunity to talk with and get to know people that are my age from around the world... literally. I have daily experiences with them that make me laugh, broaden my thinking, or teach me something. And here is a sneak peak at some of those moments.
Some of these people make me feel like I accomplish nothing in my life. I have been on the bus many times, sitting next to people from China and obviously, addictingly watching them text on their phones. Half of it is in English and half is in Chinese characters. How can they transition from one to the other so quickly when they are so different looking and sounding? Their brains must be really big. Also, cast members who speak a language other than English (fun fact: it is not a requirement to speak English to work at Walt Disney World) have a gold language pin on their name tag to help guests communicate effectively with them. Whenever I see one of those, that person is a hero. I laugh at their jokes, I let them take the dry seat on the rainy bus, I smile and bow my head when I pass by them, etc. I took three years of Spanish in high school and I barely remember how to count to fifteen. To top it all off, there are some people I see with three golden language pins. Those people fluently, comfortably, and effectively speak four languages. Why aren't they working for NASA?
I work in a different country every day and I have learned quickly that there are certain things I cannot do when I am working in Mexico, Italy, Morocco, or France. I cannot speak one word in Spanish, Italian, Arabic, or French either to myself, another cast member, or a guest. Since my ethnicity is questionable in the first place, the moment an Hola or Ciao slips out of my mouth, I am 100%, born and raised, native of that country and I am swimming in a sea of foreign trouble. The guest believes I know what they are rambling to me about and they expect to get this authentic experience. I shake my head and, in my American accent, say, "Sorry, I only speak English."
I have worked in the two restrooms in Italy several times and I have found a disturbing ongoing occurrence. I have come to believe that it is a traditional Italian custom to enter a bathroom stall, remove a stack of toilet seat covers, soak them in toilet water, and leave them in the toilet, on the floor, in the trash, or replace them into the dispenser. All I can say is that is has happened more than once. Or five times.
Besides the nearest restroom or smoking areas, the question I get asked the most is, "Where are you from?" More often than not, this person is already looking at my name tag so I have to decide what kind of answer they want. Do they want to know that I was born and raised in California? Do they want to know that I attend school in Idaho? Do they want to know that I live in Chatham Square in Orlando? Or do they want to know that I am 1/4 Hispanic and 3/4 White? I make a quick stereotypical judgement of their accent, age, appearance, and gender before I give them an answer. And I usually end up explaining all four.
My favorite country to work is usually Italy and this is why:
One of my happiest moments was when I was sitting backstage, listening to a group of Italian girls blabber to each other. I could tell the conversation topic was getting intense and the great exclamation, "Mamma Mia!" from more than one of them just made my day.
Most conversations with the international students consist of how tired we are and how many hours we have worked this week since it is the only thing we really have in common. I love these conversations but especially the end of them because I get some great advice from them. My favorite from a cute Italian girl (in a thick Italian accent) has been, "Good luck til the end! Be strong."
The other day I was sitting on a picnic table backstage with my head down and I hear an Italian man yell, "Maddi, don't be sad!" (They all know my name and love talking to me... makes it so much more fun) I replied, "I'm not sad, I'm tired!" He said, "Oh, you too?" I said, "Yes, I've been here for ten hours today!" He said, "Maddi, we will always be tired. Welcome to life."
All in all, they are some of the most hard-working people I have ever met. That last short story really sums it up. Especially during this Food and Wine Festival, everyone is working nine to sixteen hours days, five or six days a week. I think I'm far away from my family... these people are in another country for a whole year. And they are constantly happy, energetic, and so grateful to be where they are! They are a wonderful reminder that this is an incredible place to be every single day.
Some of these people make me feel like I accomplish nothing in my life. I have been on the bus many times, sitting next to people from China and obviously, addictingly watching them text on their phones. Half of it is in English and half is in Chinese characters. How can they transition from one to the other so quickly when they are so different looking and sounding? Their brains must be really big. Also, cast members who speak a language other than English (fun fact: it is not a requirement to speak English to work at Walt Disney World) have a gold language pin on their name tag to help guests communicate effectively with them. Whenever I see one of those, that person is a hero. I laugh at their jokes, I let them take the dry seat on the rainy bus, I smile and bow my head when I pass by them, etc. I took three years of Spanish in high school and I barely remember how to count to fifteen. To top it all off, there are some people I see with three golden language pins. Those people fluently, comfortably, and effectively speak four languages. Why aren't they working for NASA?
I work in a different country every day and I have learned quickly that there are certain things I cannot do when I am working in Mexico, Italy, Morocco, or France. I cannot speak one word in Spanish, Italian, Arabic, or French either to myself, another cast member, or a guest. Since my ethnicity is questionable in the first place, the moment an Hola or Ciao slips out of my mouth, I am 100%, born and raised, native of that country and I am swimming in a sea of foreign trouble. The guest believes I know what they are rambling to me about and they expect to get this authentic experience. I shake my head and, in my American accent, say, "Sorry, I only speak English."
I have worked in the two restrooms in Italy several times and I have found a disturbing ongoing occurrence. I have come to believe that it is a traditional Italian custom to enter a bathroom stall, remove a stack of toilet seat covers, soak them in toilet water, and leave them in the toilet, on the floor, in the trash, or replace them into the dispenser. All I can say is that is has happened more than once. Or five times.
Besides the nearest restroom or smoking areas, the question I get asked the most is, "Where are you from?" More often than not, this person is already looking at my name tag so I have to decide what kind of answer they want. Do they want to know that I was born and raised in California? Do they want to know that I attend school in Idaho? Do they want to know that I live in Chatham Square in Orlando? Or do they want to know that I am 1/4 Hispanic and 3/4 White? I make a quick stereotypical judgement of their accent, age, appearance, and gender before I give them an answer. And I usually end up explaining all four.
My favorite country to work is usually Italy and this is why:
One of my happiest moments was when I was sitting backstage, listening to a group of Italian girls blabber to each other. I could tell the conversation topic was getting intense and the great exclamation, "Mamma Mia!" from more than one of them just made my day.
Most conversations with the international students consist of how tired we are and how many hours we have worked this week since it is the only thing we really have in common. I love these conversations but especially the end of them because I get some great advice from them. My favorite from a cute Italian girl (in a thick Italian accent) has been, "Good luck til the end! Be strong."
The other day I was sitting on a picnic table backstage with my head down and I hear an Italian man yell, "Maddi, don't be sad!" (They all know my name and love talking to me... makes it so much more fun) I replied, "I'm not sad, I'm tired!" He said, "Oh, you too?" I said, "Yes, I've been here for ten hours today!" He said, "Maddi, we will always be tired. Welcome to life."
All in all, they are some of the most hard-working people I have ever met. That last short story really sums it up. Especially during this Food and Wine Festival, everyone is working nine to sixteen hours days, five or six days a week. I think I'm far away from my family... these people are in another country for a whole year. And they are constantly happy, energetic, and so grateful to be where they are! They are a wonderful reminder that this is an incredible place to be every single day.
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