So towards the end of October 2003, we had completed all that we needed to. We had all our photos, finished our medicals and had all our certificates translated into Arabic. So the only thing left to do was to wait. The process was a long and tedious one. Technically one could get your Iqama in a day, but hey this was Saudi Arabia. 'Why finish ourr work in a day, where we could take 3 weeks. Ourr tea breaks arrre verry imbortant to us.'
It was getting close to Ramadan and we were settling in nicely. Students were getting accustomed to us and our style. The first thing management loved about 'The Team' was our impeccable work ethic. We were slave drivers when it came to our learners. Moms especially loved that we bombarded their brats with homework in order to keep them busy at home. The less they actually had to have contact with their children, the better they were off. They could spend their time with a deeper sense of purpose, like shopping or having their nails done. After all the nannies, drivers, personal chefs, maids and of course personal tutors, had to have a full day. About 99% of students here, had tutors at home. So parents loved that we helped justify their positions.
It was only after a month I discovered I had half of the board of directors' kids in my class. The owner, a multi billionaire without exaggeration, had a grandson sitting right in front of my class, always smiling, taunting me. I imagined daily what was going through his mind, 'Just slip up you bastard, this is my family's school. I can't wait to have you deported,' A tad intimidating, isn't it? This boy's father among others would visit me daily, to ensure that their kids were getting optimum stimulation. They weren't sure if South Africans could actually meet the educational know how of the Irish, Brits and Yankees. These parents are so blinded by skin color and accent, and I am using the present form in that they still think so, that they can't actually identify individual skills or if a person is an effective educator or not. I'm not racist and I'm not generalizing, I am just stating a mere fact based on experience. I came across many of the above teachers with less qualifications, being treated like kings and earning more money than people with a darker skin tone. Hell even white South Africans, were earning more money than us, but couldn't even keep a sentence together grammatically. They were typically known as the 'exiles of democracy'. I think it was Nizam who said this once in company, and it sort of stuck with me. So you can understand why they had to double check. We were just not white enough. I remember there were times, where AK, the director general would always remind us to keep watching BBC and CNN, and copy accents. We always laughed about it over barbecues, finding it just too ridiculous. However, some of us actually worked on our accents, because we needed to be understood and that was more important than anything else.
I noticed that most of the Arabic speaking teachers would sugar coat students' abilities and behavior with parents. It was seen as a complete embarrassment if they had told the truth about any problems in the classroom. I decided not to do that. I thought that transparency with parents would be a welcomed change.
So my comments in the weekly journal were honest, but tactful. I started notarizing certain behavioral patterns in students-whether they were following the rules or not, whether they were doing homework, or whether they were just generally slacking in the classroom. I also took note of emotional changes-when a student suddenly went quiet for no reason, or vice versa. My weekly comments became meaningful and parents started noticing. They soon realized that what I was describing about their kids were exactly what they were like at home. At least this was the feedback I received. I think this was probably the opinion generated by all the caregivers at home besides the actual parents. I then developed a reputation for that. Mr. Joe Mase was the goto guy for effective comments. I even had to post generic comment templates on the school's class server. I didn't perform miracles, though. It was simple. You highlight the positive, then the negative and speak about possible solutions-all in a very delightful way. I just thought this should've been second nature for a preparatory teacher. Nevertheless the only reason why I shone was simply because of the powerful parents I had. It was both a benefit and a curse. Hasan, my colleague who had the same load and doing exactly the same thing, didn't get half of the recognition. His parents were just not powerful enough. This was even more evident at the end of that year when I received a gold plated award, and Hasan just a certificate. It was embarrassing and insulting to say the least. It then became a curse for me. In spite of the fact that things changed-I became section manager, I had multiple loads, I was still forever judged against that high standard of my first year until the very end.
Twenty-Six October 2003 marked the start of the holy month of Ramadan. The system, and when I say, 'The System,' I mean everything in Saudi Arabia, literally slows down and in many cases even comes to a complete halt. It was concluded from an independent study published in a national newspaper, that during the month of Ramadan, the average Saudi is productive only for 30 minutes. More about this and other events to continue in Chapter 12.
Chapter 12 - Ramadan 2003...........to be continued......
