Martha’s Vineyard: was in der Nähe ist, wie man hinkommt und wann man fährt · 2026

АХАлина Хазееваalina1546 · 09.12.2017Lesen

On March 22nd, I signed the contract, and by the 24th, I was already rushing to the bank to pay the first installment, but that wasn't meant to be. In my personal diary, there is the following entry: 'March 24th. While trying to open a bank account, I discovered that my passport was listed as wanted.' The situation was completely absurd, as I hadn't broken any laws and hadn't lost my passport, but I still couldn't open a bank account. However, at the local passport office, I found out that my passport had been blocked in the city of Nizhny Tagil. Without thinking twice, I went to make a scene—to sort things out—at the FMS office in that city. It turned out that someone had filed a report about a lost passport, and by some stroke of bad luck, the clerk had carelessly blocked my passport by mixing up one digit. Upon returning home, I had to write several statements, after which my passport was finally unblocked. And, by the way, no one in any of the offices even apologized. That was the first test, after which I heard, 'maybe it's not meant to be.' But I haven't believed in fate for a long time. I believe that you have to fight. I decided to be truly desperate and try to find a job on my own. For almost two weeks, I sent out emails, but received no replies. I really wanted to go to Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts, at that time, but most of the jobs were already taken, and there was absolutely no housing left there. There was nowhere to delay, so I agreed to a job through an agency. It was a job offer at the beloved Dunkin Donuts on Cape Cod. I didn't care anymore, I just wanted to be done with it all and leave. But that wasn't meant to be either. The sponsor didn't confirm this offer. There was no proper explanation for it; many of my acquaintances went on this offer without any issues, but I was refused. I tried calling the sponsor, writing to them, but all to no avail. There was only one explanation: the sponsor was worried that there was no housing left on the island, as too many students were heading there that summer. In a rush, wiping away tears of resentment, I signed another offer. It was May 4th. I cried because every time I built a more or less good plan in my head, it collapsed. I cried because I wasn't going to my dream island and wasn't even going to a place where my acquaintances would be. I cried because I signed an offer in Texas (read: a desert with cowboys and tequila). It was only later that I realized some higher forces were pushing me in that direction. My first American summer was spent in Texas, and it was the best thing that could have happened to me. On May 19th, my Texas offer was confirmed, and on June 6th, I passed my interview at the consulate and received my J-1 Visa. I won't dwell on the interview for long, as it went very easily and quickly that time; they asked me standard questions about where I study, what I plan to do in the future, and what I will do in the States. By the way, there was also a question about why I chose Texas. I didn't lie and say it was the dream of my life; I explained that I had no choice since I applied for the program late. If you are interested in how I was refused a visa in 2017, stay with me, I will definitely tell you about that later.

AAlmagulsamarbaevna · 18.10.2011Lesen

Hi everyone) I'll start from the very beginning, i.e., the moment I finally decided to participate in the Work and Travel USA program) or rather, it was decided for me) I had been persuading my parents since my freshman year) but I was lucky enough to go only in my second year, considering I transferred majors and lost a year due to the credit difference, so I had been dreaming of a trip to the States for 2 years)) Even though my parents agreed, my brother was against it, and I had almost given up hope of ever going) Anyway, I submitted my documents in my city on the last day of acceptance, i.e., May 13th (thanks to my persistent aunt))) and even though the office worked until 5, we managed to submit them at 5:30) Of course, I hadn't decided where I was going yet, and besides, I didn't have an offer) Initially, I decided I would go to Massachusetts to a quiet resort island, Martha's Vineyard, because my friends had been there before and recommended it) But for some reason, I was drawn to Alaska... Of course, I told my beloved aunt that I was going to the island, but I had completely different plans) I told my mom I was going to Alaska, and all my relatives that I was going to Massachusetts, because I knew no one would let me go so far alone, especially without an offer) Fortunately, my aunt was out of town during my send-off, so only my closest people were there) Honestly, for some reason, I was crying before leaving... whether it was because I saw the fear in my mom's eyes, or because I realized I was going practically nowhere, and there was a mixed feeling... both joy and fear.. By the way, I found a guy at the pre-departure meeting who also didn't know where he was going, and after talking to him, we decided to go together... At the airport, I saw many happy students.. and among them a classmate who seemed to be going somewhere further south... For some reason, I couldn't fully realize and understand everything that was happening to me, and only after passing registration did I realize that I had a huge chance to see America, and such a chance doesn't come every day. So... my departure day was June 13th, and the next day was my birthday) but I kind of forgot about it with all the hustle and bustle)) Before the flight, of course, all my relatives gave advice on what and how, etc., but my thoughts weren't on how many terminals JFK has and if I would get lost, or where to stay overnight and what to eat, but on HOW I WOULD FIND A JOB in such a huge country and in such a big state as Alaska!) (by the way, we bought tickets from NY to Anchorage in advance). I was afraid that I wouldn't find a job and would come home with nothing( Arriving in NY, we met some Kazakh guys who were also flying to Anchorage)) we were lucky) among them was someone experienced in America) so there were no problems with housing) although their tickets were for another day (having agreed to meet them in Anchorage and exchanged phone numbers, we flew there).

WTWelcome to Americaguest_15667 · 01.10.2009Lesen

On the first page, I want to talk about my first day of work, which happened just one day after arriving in the States. As it turned out later, it was the hardest one. In the morning, Marshall—our employer—picked us up while we were still asleep. We got dressed in 2 minutes and left. At the warehouse, we quickly met Vlad, who had arrived a week earlier, and the American guys we were going to work with. We got our t-shirts and headed out. That day, I worked with Nikita, Marshall, Matt, and Steve. We drove through traffic (which is actually a rare occurrence), then took a ferry with the truck to Martha's Vineyard—a very beautiful place. On the way, we talked to a doctor—he recognized our accent because he had a colleague from Russia. Nikita asked him if he was of Irish descent. He was very surprised, called his wife over, and said that she was of Irish descent, while he was Italian. Before that, our housing manager Peter—the first person we talked to—said his ancestors were from Ireland. And after that, Nikita asked almost everyone he talked to about their Irish heritage. When he hit the mark, the person he was talking to would be very surprised-) There are very narrow streets on this island, and the trailer is veeeery long. Marshall has been driving trucks his whole life and does it with amazing calmness. We drove without GPS using Google Maps printouts and, naturally, got lost (that happened almost always—in an unfamiliar city, we would sometimes spend 2 hours looking for a place. Why not buy a GPS for $150 is beyond me). Eventually, we ended up in a dead end where we couldn't turn around. Cops arrived, cleared the parked cars, and then escorted us to the right place. The day was hard because we worked at a decent pace in the heat all day and barely ate—there was a risk of missing the last ferry. I really liked the work from the first day for many reasons: - interacting with interesting people - physical activity - lots of traveling - not monotonous - good tips if you're lucky On Martha's Vineyard, a family was moving from California. The firm we worked for is called Hiltz moving&storage. It is an agent for Bekins—one of the largest and oldest moving companies in the country. A firm similar to ours handled packing and loading in California. An interstate driver delivered the van to our warehouse. Then we handled the unloading. So, unfortunately, we didn't get to drive very long distances. Our area of responsibility was only neighboring states. This system has a huge disadvantage—everyone blames each other for damaged items. What was interesting on the first day: I learned what the title of one of my favorite songs, "Take Five" by Dave Brubeck, means. I thought it meant something like "Give me five," but it turned out to be "Take a five-minute break." Then there was a funny incident also related to translation difficulties. All boxes labeled "Damery" had to be carried to a specific place. I kept wondering what this word meant—maybe something like "fragile"? Moreover, the lady of the house told us, "Try not to show these boxes to my husband," and when the husband saw them, he said, "Ugh, Damery, I want to burn all these boxes!" It turned out that Damery was the maiden name of his wife's parents-) It was very pleasant to work with the American guys. "I show you how to do it not because you do it wrong but because I want you to do it right." Matt is 29. He works in moving during the summer to relax—he actually works as a head chef in a restaurant without days off. Steve is 20. He once jumped off a train when he was late for work and missed his station. Then, barely alive, he went with us and worked the whole day. We got $40 in tips each. Simple arithmetic kicked in immediately—if only it were like that every day... But, unfortunately, we received tips only 1-2 times a week. On the way home, the most pleasant part of the work begins—you sleep exhausted in the truck and get paid the same $10 an hour for it. At first, the system was