The Teacher Diaries-Chapter 1 & 2

Chapter 1

It’s been 8 long years since graced the shores of my homeland. I find myself at crossroads. How did I get myself into this situation? Sitting in the classroom, drowning in a storm of voices, wondering Is this really what my life has come to? I understand that babysitting the rich and famous, a glorified child minder I was, was a mere facade of what education should be. Mark Twain once mentioned that schooling should never get in the way of true education. I am of course compromising my principles as an effective educator, for the sake of a higher quality of life, well so I thought anyway. Money is after all what makes the world go round. Did you ever notice that those who say money isn’t everything are the ones who have the most of it?

Complaining or venting on another typical day at work, which by the way is in dusty, hazy Jeddah, has really just become a daily sing-song, that kinda gets on one's nerves. Ithought writing might help me avoid sounding like a stuck vinyl LP. I was another one of those saps, joining the modern day nomads of the world-you know the grass is greener on the other side and all that. I sought my refuge in Saudi Arabia, like most Cape Tonians wanted to, especially the young, bright and spiritually uplifted minds. About a decade ago this was like a new trend. Muslims especially, craved desperately to be near the Holy cities of Mecca and Medina and made every effort to get work here. This would save them quite a bundle in cash coming here for pilgrimage from South Africa. The average pilgrim from South Africa pays anything between 30 and 80K per person. So getting a job here is ideal for the person who just can’t see that kind of money in a lifetime. 

The non-Muslims on the other hand saw an opportunity to earn a tax-free salary, where the cost of living is much lower than that of South Africa. Settling mortgages, car debt, saving for education and retirement, can become a short-term reality. Money isn’t everything, right? 

So here I am at one of the most prestigious schools in the kingdom, where apparently it’s an honor just to grace the grounds of the campus. The lush greenery one finds on entering this ridiculously expensive school is a strong contrast to what you actually happens inside. The grounds are maintained daily by a permanent maintenance staff-carpenters, electricians, painters and gardeners, parading around like perfectly synchronized drones, accepting every command without question. As a result the grounds are kept in impeccable condition just to impress the highly respected and to a point, feared Saudi elite. They can visit at any time as half of the stray brats belonging to these families attend this loony bin. After all, this is a boys club for the rich and famous – boys ranging from the ages of 6 through 19. You can’t even begin to imagine teaching these students. It’s just too surreal. Here, perception is the key to success. 

So if it’s this bad, and I’m complaining so much, why am I still here after 8 years? You’ve probably been asking this question from the beginning. To understand this, I have to take you back, to when I first arrived.

Chapter 2

2003

I was working in the private sector in RSA. So many other qualified teachers were doing the same thing. Backin the 90’s, the government instituted a humiliating necessity called L.I.F.O.(last in first out). To cut corners or more specifically cut budgets, LIFO was introduced to get rid of ‘surplus’ teachers. Teaching positions only became available in rural or country areas. Some people made the trek, while others preferred to move to the private sector. So considering the fact that I qualified in ’92 it was a very tough time for me. I accumulatively taught in RSA for only a year, but at 3 different schools.  

Trying to get my feet on solid ground, I moved into the insurance/medical insurance field and then ultimately into the health sector completely. So here I was working as an operation and marketing manager for a very reputable and old school corporate company, when opportunity came knocking on my door. Opportunity to move from South Africa was something I had already experienced in 1995 but I knew based on that period in my life, things would be different this time around.

I saw the prospectus at a friend’s house for the first time. At first I didn’t take much note of the document. I mean really-I was in senior management, with huge responsibilities.Why would I want to go back to teaching? The last time I was in KSA, I had a terrible time. Returning to teaching there was very far from my mind.  

My wife studied this document forensically as if she had accounting finals the next day. She was so impressed she brought my attention to the ‘excellent’ package being offered, which included compound accommodation. 

Compound accommodation inSaudi Arabia is your home away from home, where none of the Saudi rules apply.So it’s not just a mere housing facility but a lifestyle. Inside you’ll find swimming pools, recreational centre, bus services and women are not required towear the traditional abayas. 

Reluctantly I picked up the prospectus and perused through it with complete skeptism. After reading thelife changing information, I became converted to the idea of leaving again.Taking a deep breath, stepping back and re-evaluating our lives, was probably the best thing at the time for us. We needed a high quality of life instead ofa high standard of living. I phoned the agency immediately. It was apparentlythe last day for interviews. I was really just trying my luck and had nothingto lose.

I remember the day vividly. I was painted in a black suit, silver tie, shiny black shoes and hair that were gelled so much I looked like a wise guy straight out of mafia movie. Although this was the way I looked everyday, the Saudis were vain enough to pride themselves and others upon image and perception. Based on this knowledge I knew that half of the interview might be in the bag just by the way I looked. I really had nothing to lose. Basically I had to convince the agency and the Saudis for a contract and had less than 2 hours to do it. My sales and marketing skills had to be my biggest strength here. They were only looking for current professional teachers but I managed to convince them otherwise. Needless to say thirty-five minutes later I came out of a grueling interview with a broad smile-it went more than just well.

Chapter 3

September 2003

Tobe continued.......