| Life as an au-pair in the US |
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| Written by Lauren Mitchell | |
| Monday, 15 August 2005 | |
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Page 1 of 2 I cringed saying, “I want to be an au pair”, expecting the worst. I had reached a point in my young adult life where a decision had to be made about my future. The general consensus (my entire family) was toward me going back to school to complete my Bachelor’s degree. Of course, I didn’t want to do that. After explaining what the au pair program was about, my decision - to my utter surprise - was supported. I went to the seminar with my three choices being France, England and Holland respectively. Once I got there, I met a group of au pairs who had just returned from America. AU PAIRS WERE ALLOWED TO TRAVEL TO AMERICA. How could there be any other choice?! America - the land of plenty; the land of the sitcoms, movies and Hollywood. And best of all, NEW YORK CITY! I had to go to America; there was no second or third choice anymore. I hung onto every word the former au pairs spoke, envisioning myself as one of those who got to travel to a foreign country. At this point, the only obstacle was acquiring a driver’s license. You see, my philosophy was that I would never drive, on account that I was a nervous wreck. So, this was a huge obstacle; however, it was one that was quickly overcome. Then came the interviews with the agency, the tests, sending the application in, and worst of all, making a choice once the families called. It actually all happened very quickly. After a number of phone interviews with prospective host families, my options were narrowed down to two. One family had six children aged two to sixteen, who all sounded so sweet. They were in the state of Connecticut, situated between New York and Massachusetts. The second was a family with three girls in Winchester, Massachusetts. I’m sure you can guess my choice – the family of six. Just kidding!! I’d have to have Red Bull strapped to my head the way Homer Simpson has Duff beer strapped to his, just to cope. No, I chose the Mullen family with their three beautiful girls – Hillary, five, Lydia, two-and-a-half, and Alexandra, eleven months. Winchester is a little town just outside of Boston, fifteen minutes north to be exact. After orientation in New Jersey, my new family picked me up and it was a long uncomfortable four-hour drive back to Winchester. Once there, they showed me around their two-storey Tudor style home, which was relatively large compared to standard South African homes. I immediately fell in love with my bedroom. I had a wall to wall closet (heaven!), a rich green carpet, and the furniture was a deep cherry colour. I loved my space, as did my friends. My counselor came by a little later to introduce herself - Karen Connolly. She told me about the cluster meetings held monthly; what Winchester and Boston had to offer, and also a little about the other girls. I was so excited to meet them. (I forgot to mention that I arrived in the middle of August, the height of American summer. It was wonderful. Before I knew it, I was into a routine with my girls. Hillary would go to school for half the day and I would spend time with the younger two. Between play-dates, naps, painting, playing, reading, baths, more playing and walks, we were never short of activities. |
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