Freelancing: Striking a balance in a frenemy’s paradise

I have diligently been trying to keep up my weekly blog posts and have made it past entry No.10. Four months in and now they’re starting to slip. I do admire people who manage to update their blogs while holding down a full-time job, of which I’m doing neither. 

But neither am I breezing from one café to another, bar hopping or being a lady who lunches. Instead, I’ve been cooped in my office/dining room in freelancing heaven, hell or somewhere in between.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh

When we decided to move to Buenos Aires, a blog seemed ideal to give me some focus while meeting people, finding my feet, and importantly looking for work.

However, not having a national identity card when we first arrived in BA meant I couldn’t work in an official capacity. Too bad, but at the same time I was relieved. Although we had moved here primarily for my husband’s work, having come this far, I didn’t want to work in an office if I could help it. Also that would mean working over the summer while Alistair, who is a teacher, could take off and see the country for almost three months.    

My Spanish was ok before we arrived so that was a bonus, maybe. Nonetheless, I had no idea where to start, who to ask, where to look…

Contacts, contacts and more contacts

First came the English lessons, providing extra tuition to pupils at St George’s College, the school where Alistair teaches. I was worried that it would interfere with my social life, but with little cash of my own, I guess a heaving social life was not on the agenda. Besides the kids are entertaining, and expanding my education in turn. I have read two new novels, Disgrace and Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, because one of students is reading them for English.      

Next, by chance I met a guy at the swimming pool in our previous apartment complex and it turned out that he works in the medtech industry. This is very close to my previous line of work, as I was a journalist and then later for a communications/public relations firm focused on life sciences. 

I've told almost anyone I meet that I’m looking for contacts. In general, people have been very kind, including my swimming pool friend sent me lots of contacts on LinkedIn.

Be brave. Since then I have approached so many people on LinkedIn I have lost track. Out of a 100 invitations and messages, I might receive five replies but I’ve consoled myself that’s ok and I just have to push on. 

I’ve managed to pitch one story on the pharmaceutical industry in Latin America and Argentina to my previous employer, Scrip, a news and intelligence service focused on the biopharmaceutical industry.

Since then, a friend in England who works for an international pharmaceutical consultancy service has asked me to transcribe and translate audio interviews in Spanish into English from a field-trip in Colombia. My brain is slightly frazzled, but I have to say it’s great for improving my Spanish. 

I was worried I might not have enough to do (besides planning a wedding from abroad), so I’m also contending with my Chartered Institute of Marketing digital marketing course in marketing communications. 

From nowhere I’ve ended up biting off a bit more than I can chew, drowning with all my multiple deadlines. 

Alistair and my good friend Francesco have told me several times to say NO. But I don’t feel I can, not yet anyway. This is about my reputation, building up skills and ultimately selling me. So until then I may be flitting from freelancing being my friend to it being my foe...? But a worker’s paradise is none other than what you make it – mine just happens to be a dining room in BA.  

Duathlon in la Pampa: Everyone’s a winner

Alistair and I did our first mountain bike duathlon on Sunday, and what an event. I came second in an unbeknown category to me and I didn’t even do the bike ride (more on that later). Only having done one duathalon before, in England and on a road bike, I didn’t know what to expect - in terms of the actual event but also what type of people would take part.

With Argentine society squeezed for every penny; heavy import restrictions; and high inflation, I was surprised that duathlons are as big as they are in Argentina. I mean bikes, trainers and the general attire are expensive. Yet, people seemingly have enough to spend on such recreational activities. And on looking good while doing their pursuits.

The race begins

The day consisted of a 5k, 10k and 15k run and then the duathlon. It all took place at Estación Gomez, one of the many abandoned train stations in Argentina, in the Buenos Aires provincial town of Brandsen.

Half asleep, having woken up at 6.45am for a race that was supposed to start at 12pm (Argentine timing so in actual fact any time after 12pm), I awoke to an array of well-kitted Argentines. There must have been at least a few hundred people at the event, parading a pretty impressive range of international bike brands - from Cube and Cannondale to Specialized and Meridas. 

Where the sun still shines

It was a glorious day, with blazing sunshine and up to some 20 degrees by 10am. Although unusually warm for this time of year, for the equivalent of the last day in November, you would never get a day like this in England.

The Argentines really had set up camp for the day. People had arrived early with their families and were relaxing on deck chairs or rugs under their team shelter canopies. We had come with our club, Club Kona, a local running and mountain biking club in Quilmes. A hearty breakfast of croissants and cakes (always going for the healthy option) was laid out for us, with the indispensable mate never too far away.

Unlike most duathlons I’m aware of, in this particular race (or maybe in Argentina in general) you can either: 1) do the complete event individually or 2) team up with a partner where one runs at either side only, and the other does only the bike. Bravo Alistair for deciding to do the whole thing. I chickened out and chose the latter; I only did the running part.

Chaos in the midst

Typically, no one knew what time the race started. The transition area was rather chaotic, with not enough room for all the bikes. No one even knew what the course looked like, expect that it would be flat. Even at the safety drill, no one understood the rules. And it was not just us gringos; even the locals looked perplexed after several explanations of sorts.

So off we went, oblivious. After a lovely section in the open campo, the path narrowed considerably. There were spiky bushes on either side, forcing us to run in single file, while trying not to get scratched. This was more like a steeple chase course than an undulating 5k. I didn’t really fancy doing it all over again.

The bike course was something else. At several points, the competitors had to dismount and carry their bikes over various obstacles, including half-missing railway sleepers. One of the girls in our team was lucky to have found two gentlemen who assisted her across this perilous section. This was certainly not for the faint-hearted.

Prizes galore

I had no idea what my time was but I was suitably rewarded for my efforts, with my partner and I coming second in the mixed double running-bike combo. Hah, I’d never even get on the rankings in England!

In true Argentine manner, the prize-awarding ceremony lasted an age. There were medals and trophies for every category imaginable; for each increasing five-year age bracket, gender, species etc. Club Kona actually won severally prizes, including first female overall in the complete duathlon, first and second in the mixed doubles and first in the preceding 15k runs in the respective age category. Kona means strong or valiant in the indigenous language of Mapuche, so I guess this was not altogether unsurprising. 

I might not have enjoyed the actual race but it was an insight into another side of Argentine society. People do, and enjoy doing, the same things as we do back home, even if on a rougher track and in a slightly more disorganised fashion. It was a great opportunity to mix with locals, do some exercise, for Alistair to make good use of his bike, see some of the countryside and to top it off, win a prize. I could think of worse ways to spend a Sunday.