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.