Pig Feed and Giving Sex

People call charities saying the strangest things.... We took a voice message from a lady who we understood was offering us Pig Feed and Giving Sex. Pig Feed - completely irrelevant to our charity but yes, a term we understand. Giving Sex! Well, truly baffling. The message was played over and over until every member of staff was on the floor laughing hysterically but still without a clue as to what she meant. The mystery was never solved. The poor member of staff who was nominated to return the call was met on the phone with much the same bewilderment as we had. Discombobulating. My new favourite word - makes me thing of a little old man with a cheeky grin on his face.

Another phone call had me completely dumbfounded as the supporter asked if it was possible for us to send the money he was raising for us to The Donkey Sanctuary. I kindly explained that this wouldn't really be possible as we are different charities. "Oh...." came the somewhat vacant response.

Just another day...

The story so far...

It is now 3 full years since I graduated with a 2.1 in English Literature. Being idealistic and naive I left university and packed my bags to Africa for 6 months where I learned about the “real world”. Emotionally stirred and politically riled I pursued a career in the international development sector. My older brother got an MBA and spent 10 years being a very successful businessman and commented that we “Y-generation” kids are all about the feel-good factor and trying to change the world. After working various crappy jobs I finally got the ever sought-after unpaid internship. Ah how I was congratulating myself that I was given the privilege of working for a charity for free. People thought I was utterly mad, but I knew this was the only way to get into my vocation. After my internship which was 6 months and full time I was awarded with a part-time Events Fundraising Assistant job in London. How delighted was I to be given this monkey brain job for only two days a week. It was terrible. The people on the train disgusted me and told me off for listening to my iPod too loud – the audacity. The people I worked with were idiots, they weren’t naive and innocent – they didn’t know what it was really like in the developing world. I did. And thought it was quite my business to make sure everyone else did too. Needless to say, I did not last long in this job and I packed my bag and went back to volunteering full-time. Much more fun. However, we do all hear that volunteering is good for the CV and in this case it really was! The manager of the church cafe where I was now volunteering essentially offered me a job (ok she suggested I apply – for which I was the only applicant) at her husband’s charity. Brilliant, 3 years of writing booker prize worthy job applications and performing MI5 standard interviews and I’d finally been offered a full-time, permanent, paid position. Through nepotism. And so I have begun my new career in volunteer coordination (the most coveted of all third sector jobs) and have decided to write a blog of what it’s like to work for a charity. A small charity. A British charity. In Kent. I say decided, but really I was coerced by my new colleague (I love saying colleague – feels like I’ve finally made. Yes indeed, I do in fact have a job). A charming gentleman* with the most polite manner I think I’ve ever encountered. One of those, children of an ambassador – you get a lot of them in the charity sector. White man guilt I think, they feel they have to give back to gain equilibrium for their ridiculously cushty childhood. Alas, this forward is now the longest of all forwards and I shall let the blogging commence.

*please note any opinions or ideas represented in this blog are those of the writer and have no bearing on the beliefs or values of the charity.

N.B. No offence is intended to any of my new and very wonderful colleagues