Chasing the dream of divine redirection episode 6. If you want to know what happened in 5 previous episodes, check my previous posts. The whole story is about how I ended up (professionally) where I am now and what was those happy events, synchronicity and blow of angel’s wings which gently directed me towards the right path. My path. As I said British airways was my plan A. As I said, it didn’t work out. My plan B was Emirates. Yes, exactly. Emirates fly everywhere in the world. I have always been a fun of their uniform, more precisely that red hat with a white veil attached to it. By some reason I find that hat extremely beautiful. To work for Emirates I would have to move to Dubai. I have never been there and according to what I knew about this city it was not really my cup of tea but why wouldn’t I give it a try and live there for few years? What an adventure it would be! And me, a dreamer as I am, straight away I pictured in my head my new life in Dubai in details. It was beautiful. I was ready to leave London for some time. I was looking at my room and deciding what I was going to do with all my stuff. Some of the things were going to Russia, some on Ebay (it’s a planet J), some to storage. I started to think which books I was going to take with me. And which of my denim shirts and my summer shoes would follow me. I am not joking. It was a dilemma. I watched all videos about Emirates crew life which I could find on Youtube. Hashtag “emiratescabincrew” on Instagram became my favourite. In my head I was already living that life wearing that red hat and red lipstick, flying all over the world, enjoying +40 degrees Celsius and finally learning Arabic. I wanted changes in my life, I was craving for it. Moving to Dubai seemed to me to be a brilliant idea. I knew the job of flight attendant was hard and sometimes even physically exhausting but I wanted to travel the world so badly that I was ready to sacrifice and to work a lot for it. And then the day of assessment came. From now on I will make it very short. Because the day of assessment turned out to be very short for me. Yep. After the 1st group exercise the trainers asked everybody to leave the room and 15 minutes later they put outside a piece of paper with the numbers of the candidates who passed the 1st round and were admitted for the next tour. I went through this list probably 5 times trying to find my number, but it was not there. This is what they call “when you can’t believe your own eyes”. So I was not believing my eyes. It felt so ridiculously wrong that I wanted (I am not lying here) to knock the door and ask those 2 trainers if it was some sort of mistake. During that bloody exercise my part to speak up took probably 10 seconds maximum; while we were preparing the exercise nobody was watching us at all. So how was it possible to understand during those 10 seconds whether I was suitable to become a stewardess or not??? Honestly, as much as I respectfully accepted the selection process of British Airways because it did made sense to me, Emirates assessment didn’t make any sense at all. Though I am sure they had their own sense. And you know, sometimes, when things become way too ridiculous to get angry with them, you just walk away. Because it feels right. I couldn’t even get angry because I didn’t know what or with whom to be angry with. My plan to become a flight attendant asap was if not ruined but clearly postponed for the next 6 months. The dream about living in Dubai which unfolded like a beautiful flower had to fold back into a bud. And though I could potentially apply for British Airways in a half year, I was clearly not going to do it for Emirates. I was never going to become a girl in a red hat. Ever.