“At the end of the 1970s, I worked as a translator and teacher in a company in Madrid. My wife, Spanish, was employed by the same company as an executive secretary. One day, the company, which needed to reduce its workforce, asked us to leave. Layoffs with thirty months of salary. We were young, we had no children and were free in our choices: we decided to spend a while in London, then in Paris.
We arrived in Paris just after the election of Mitterrand, in 1981. With a little time and money ahead of us, we were quite peaceful, and, in any case, my wife immediately found work thanks to its three languages: French, English and Spanish. For my part, I thought I would take my time, but I had prepared two handwritten CVs, just in case, to distribute to potential employers. Three or four days after our arrival, my wife and I went for a walk in the neighborhood of my sister – who hosted us – on the 17th.e, near The Forks. A few hundred meters from her house, we came across a Manpower temp agency, I think. We pass by, and I say to my wife: “Wait for me there, I’ll only have a minute”, with the intention of submitting my CV. I don’t have much hope: it’s 1981, unemployment is very high, and we can’t find work as a translator in a temp agency…
Inside, the director receives me kindly. “Hello, I am a translator, I am looking for work.” He looks at me and replies: “Sir, you have no chance with us. Here, we are looking for welders, delivery men, plumbers… but not translators!” The director explains to me that he knows several Parisian agencies, and that no employer has ever approached them for a position of this type. Despite everything, I give him my CV, which he goes through, before commenting: “Oh no, it’s impossible! But I’m keeping it, you never know.” I’m about to turn on my heels when the phone rings. I’m not really listening to the conversation, but I suddenly see the agency boss change his face when he looks at me. He breaks down and says to his interlocutor: “He is in front of me.” I do not understand. Yes, I’m here, but who’s asking me?
“I perform ten of my songs in front of Arlette Laguiller”
The director hangs up and explains to me that it was a call from Crédit Lyonnais, which was looking for an English and Spanish translator for a two-week replacement. He is stunned. He’s never seen this. I’m going to get my wife so as not to keep her waiting outside, and tell her what’s going on. I completed the formalities and, a few days later, in August 1981, I started at Crédit Lyonnais.
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