New year new career? Meet the expats who've changed job paths

Kasia’s story

“In everyone’s life, there comes a moment when you really feel you should try something new,” says Kasia Chudzińska, who arrived in Brussels six years ago from Poland on an Erasmus exchange. Looking for work alongside her studies, she passed the exam to become an assistant in the directorate-general for translation, and her six-month contract soon became another and then another. “The plan had been to stay in Brussels for a year and then go back, but life had something different to offer me.”

The impetus for change came in November 2012, when she bought her first reflex camera and fell in love with the art of taking a good photo. She joined photography hobby groups in Brussels and received informal training from professionals.

But after moving to a different department at the Commission, her hours became longer, her work less predictable. “I stopped everything outside of work. But my love for photography hadn’t been killed off – it was just in sleep mode.”

When work let up slightly, she was back in action, taking her camera on long walks with her photographer fiancé. In March this year, she took the plunge, opting to join him full-time at his photography company, Photo Booths. “My photography is not a ‘high-level’ job, but I see direct results. The smile on people’s faces shows they are really happy with the services we provide, and if customers are happy I feel really great!”

Her advice for potential career changers? “You have to take risks sometimes. Don’t be afraid, and don’t burn your bridges. Make sure it’s possible to return to your previous profession if the new venture doesn’t work out… but take the risk.”

Jane’s story

Jane McBride is a Brussels veteran. Born and brought up in Lisburn, Northern Ireland, she moved here 22 years ago, initially working as a personal assistant at Nato before branching out as a freelance interpreter. She started interpreting for the institutions 10 years ago.

Her decision to join the priesthood was both decisive and unexpected. “I’ve always been involved in the church, and my faith is very important to me,” she says. “When my youngest child was a year old, I went on a retreat and heard a clear call from God to the ministry. It’s been quite a long and circuitous route, but I’m now one year off being ordained.”

This change of career has provoked some interesting reactions from colleagues. “We work in booths as interpreters, and when there’s a lull and we don’t have a lot of work to do, it seems a bit like a confessional because people will start telling you their problems.

“If you tell people you’re going to work for the church, they’ll tell you their horror stories of what church did to them, or they’ll start asking questions about God. They’re interested.”

She sees strong links between interpreting and the ministry. “Something to do with the love of language is there, because preaching and teaching, prayer and the liturgy are a big part of what I do. With both jobs there’s the performance aspect. You press that button and you’re on air. I get a real kick out of that. And a lot of ministry is about thinking on your feet and reacting – there’s a real buzz.”

Even so, after her training is done, she still wants to interpret part-time. “I’ve always kept my freelance status, to be as flexible as possible.” Though she moved to the Flemish countryside several years ago, she recommends newcomers make the most of living in the capital. “Brussels is a really vibrant city… Go to the cinema, explore the restaurants and bars in your area. If you speak the language, you can get involved in local culture. If not, there’s a massive amount of expat stuff happening.”

Paul’s story

It was studies that first brought Paul Walsh to Belgium from his native Dublin. With ambitions to become an academic, he secured a place on the masters and then the advanced masters course at KU Leuven’s faculty of philosophy, but soon discovered an ivory tower wasn’t for him. Instead, he accepted a job as editor of a Brussels-based aviation magazine – a subject about which he knew little. “That was the fun part,” he says. “No one really called me out on the fact that I didn’t know much about aeroplanes when I started. I made friends with people at aviation manufacturing firms and they introduced the whole industry to me.”

What prompted him to go it alone was the lack of creative control. “When I got the job, they said, you’re the editor, you get to shape the direction of the magazine. I thought, ‘cool!’ But actually that wasn’t the case. The publisher who hired me was the real boss, and I was just taking instructions from him. After about two years of trying to influence the magazine I gave up. I treated it as just a job and my life got a lot easier. But at that point I decided I wanted to start my own magazine.”

After a couple of false starts, he set up a publication about Belgian beer and food, with the aim of writing about an aspect of Belgian life that would appeal to an international audience. It was a tough few months, starting out. “The difficult part was getting the money,” he says.

“I had to sell a concept that didn’t exist yet. I had to sell advertising in a magazine that didn’t exist yet.” A breakthrough came when Brussels Airlines decided to carry the magazines in their business class seats. There was also encouraging advice from the Brewers’ Association and Flemish culture minister Sven Gatz.

So is Belgian food really more than waffles and frites? “Yes! It’s mostly based on fine French cuisine, but there are dishes and tastes that set it apart. It leans towards bitterness – in the use of things like witloof – and the sea is a strong influence.”

This article first appeared in The Bulletin Newcomer, autumn 2016