My experience in working in a Canadian restaurant

As there is no car insurance, I am worried about the police ticket. After returning to the restaurant, I accidentally cut my hand because I was distracted, so I had to find a corner to sit down.

More serious airsickness, at this time, I have felt the whole body chills, the things in front of me are getting more and more blurred, and I have a lot of sweat on my forehead. This is a typical airsickness. If I can't control it, I will probably faint. I don't think I can faint. I'm afraid of being teased after falling down. Therefore, I hold the wound harder and bite my teeth to concentrate. I gradually feel a little warm and dizzy. At this time, I found that nothing happened around me. They speak loudly in Cantonese, but I can't understand anything. Just judging from their expressions, they seem to have said something interesting, that is, no one said hello and cared about me. After a few minutes, it basically returned to normal and the bleeding stopped. I don't think I can sit still any longer. Otherwise the boss will think I'm lazy, so I'll go to the chopping block. To my surprise, I actually saw a small piece of meat I had cut lying quietly on the chopping block. The original bright red blood has turned into a little dark red, and the hard barbecued pork is still on the side. Why didn't anyone clean it? I thought they had so much time to chat, but why didn't anyone do anything for me? The world is so cold.

confused

Except Mark and I, others, such as food delivery and waiters, are mostly from Hong Kong. For example, the boss and two chefs immigrated to Canada from Hong Kong many years ago. Those waiters emigrated to Canada with their parents since childhood. They are so-called second-generation immigrants who grew up in Canada, and some are local-born citizens and students, but they are not white, and their skin color seems to be Indian and Filipino. Those Hong Kong immigrants and the second generation can generally speak fluent English and Cantonese, so they usually communicate in Cantonese and English here, and rarely communicate with people who can only speak Mandarin like me, so I am the one who says the least and does the most in the shop.

He stared at me closely, and I found that he never asked others to work, even if he had time to chat. Only when he sees that I am free will he send me something like a ghost. He didn't want me to have a little leisure. He gave me a lot of rotten things, which no one wanted to do, such as washing feet with oil and washing the cold storage. Once the boss saw that I really had nothing to do, so he asked me to wash a big bucket. This vat is usually used to cook chicken soup, and there is a thick layer of dirt at the bottom of the vat. He asked me to clean it. I think, isn't this for nothing? It doesn't matter whether it's clean or not, but the boss says I have to do it because the space inside is too small. I'll take the vat outside. It was windy that day and the temperature was not high. I only wore a pair of short-sleeved overalls and squatted on the ground of the tuyere, cleaning the dirt at the bottom of the cylinder with steel balls and shovels. But because there is too much dirt on the bottom of the vat and it takes too long to paste, it took me about two hours to clean it up, which is still very long. The boss came out and said I don't have to do it, that's all. I think maybe the boss pitied me and told me not to do it. I appreciate it, but his next sentence almost made me dizzy. He said you had washed it before you came, so you don't need to wash it again. This means that if I get these dirty things after I come, I will be responsible for cleaning them up, but it doesn't matter if I get dirty before. In fact, I have been here for less than a month. How can I do so many nasty things? The boss is really jealous of this.

That is, the boss often calls me "we" as if I were "them", unlike him. I don't think there should be any difference between the people in the shop except the boss, but the boss has to artificially treat me as an "alternative" and attribute others to the so-called "we" with him. In this way, I am often bossed around. Besides all the dirty, dangerous, bitter and tired work, I also took all the wrong things away. I sometimes want to argue with them, but because I can't speak English and Cantonese, I can only do so. My boss is always very hard on me and sometimes gives me some unfair treatment. Take salary as an example. It turns out that I got paid the day before my rest day, just like everyone else. Later, the boss said it was not convenient to calculate, so he changed my pay time to the day after my rest day, but others didn't change it, and it was still the original pay time, so I still couldn't understand the reason. I am seldom happy here except for the moment when I get paid. I feel very confused. The longer I work here, the more desperate I feel. No one here can communicate with you well, and no one cares about your past, present and future. I am actually a tool for the boss to make money here. My relationship with my boss is mutual use. The boss uses your strength and time, and I need to get a salary from him because the whole family is waiting to use it.

Cooking or other labor earns hard money, and new immigrants who have just arrived in Canada seem to be unable to get rid of this fate. However, many people soon found jobs that suit them and started a new life in Canada, but there are also many people who are still working for various reasons, suffering and enjoying it, and I am not the kind of person who resigned easily. I think as long as I have a clear goal in life and work hard for it, I can also succeed here and have my own. So at the end of last year, I quit my job as a chef and went to another restaurant to be a chef. I think maybe I will have my own China restaurant in the near future.