Keep your hands and arms inside the carpet, we're outta here!

Early tomorrow morning we are leaving the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, I hope never to return. One year was quite enough for me.
 
The last three weeks have been a slow, painful process of basically just seeing time through. It honestly feels like time has been getting slower and slower like a music box preparing to stop, an endurance test at its worst. And now, finally it's all over. We made it! 
I've been reflecting on my ten months in this country. Was it a hateful waste of time? Was I completely miserable? Despite my constant complaining, the answer to these questions has got to be no.
There's no point denying it's been great to earn good money- this was after all the main reason we came. The holidays we went on were wonderful and kept us sane. Also, money has allowed us more choice for the future, so thanks Saudi for that.
Having time to work on my stories and blog, learn the ukulele and watch TV has been fun. It's a good job I like indoor individual hobbies, as there certainly wasn't a lot else on offer. 
I've met some great kids and lovely Saudi women. There are a lot of decent people here hidden behind those burkas.

That's about it for the 'what I will miss' portion. So what have I learnt?

I've learnt that there is an intricate web of issues going on in this country, not just the ones everyone knows about. I read the other day that slavery was only abolished in the 60's, which explains to some extent the despicable racism and lack of humanity towards immigrants from poorer countries.
I've learnt that if you allow boys as young as 13 to drive and don't give them anywhere to go, they will inevitably screech, race and drift up and down the streets causing great danger to all who get in their path.
I've learnt that if you don't give women anything to do other than eat and shop, they will most probably become fat and materialistic.  
I've learnt more than ever that I passionately do not condone the death penalty (especially public executions) or the use of lashes or any other torture. I had a dream the other day that I witnessed a beheading- it was so graphic I woke up in a sweat. The continued use of this barbaric act here is Saudi has definitely made a lasting mark on me.  
I've worked hard doing a full time job and eight hours of privates every week. I've learnt how to teach one set of students for an entire year, how to keep their interest and overcome some serious behavioural issues. I've learnt how to work with no support, no systems and no resources. I've survived and come out loving the children I once dreaded, and I think for that I can be proud.

Finally, I've learnt that some of my strongest values and beliefs include equality, respect for other religions and races and compassion as well as, of course, freedom.
I feel that I've gone a long way this year to understanding and appreciating what freedom really is and what it means to have it taken away. And I hope that in the future I will never, ever take it for granted.

 

 

 You can't put a price on freedom,

So long suckers!

I am More Important than You

In the last few weeks I've been thinking a lot (again) about how people from poorer Asian and African countries are treated here in Saudi Arabia. Saudi offers a standard 2 year contract to employees as drivers and cleaners, with one return ticket at the end. Our two Indian drivers went home a week ago to see their wives and children for the first time in two years, and as you can imagine I'd never seen them happier. I just can't imagine how it feels to be away for so long, with very little communication. The companies or families that the people work for withhold the employees passports while they're here, to prevent them from leaving. So they are basically imprisoned. One of the drivers only got his passport back with the necessary visas about an hour before he needed to go to the airport. A Malaysian maid at school who was so excited to be going home to see her baby, came back to work the following week having missed her flight, saying "Passport not ready, maybe one, two weeks." The company didn't even tell her how long it would take to fix, and when she would actually get to go home.
Sometimes the lack of compassion is really amazing. The way anyone with 'dark skin' is treated basically like a slave. But what really gets me is when you see western people doing it too; treating drivers like shit, demanding that the maids make them tea, and generally just being rude and superior. It's like this country gives them the excuse to be who they've always wanted to be and the justification to perceive themselves as above others. It makes me sick, and I don't think anyone with that attitude deserves to return to the UK, or any other place where people have fought hard for equal rights.
I've also noticed how westerners in power here tend to go a bit crazy. The laid back (some would perceive as lazy) attitude of Saudis drives me insane, but it's the Western people they hire- and then let have free reign to do whatever they want- that are really a sight to behold. The Saudi bosses at my job don't like to make decisions, so they delegated this job to a westerner who basically did whatever she wanted, knowing that they wouldn't object. And this was dodgy ground seeing as what she wanted to do was belittle, scare and threaten people into submission, in her quest to be all powerful. The Saudis are annoying because they're not proactive and go out of their way to get out of doing anything that resembles work, but at least they're not vindictive and spiteful.
Some westerners clearly enjoy the power trip that comes along with living 'the life' here, getting paid loads for jobs that they're not necessarily qualified for and being allowed to do pretty much whatever. It's like they get to live out the fantasy they were denied at home, where policies, procedures, professionalism and general decency in the workplace stand in the way. They really are pathetic.

Yesterday we went to Deera Square (or the more widely known chop-chop square) where they do the public executions. It was eerily normal, with no marked area for where these atrocities take place. It's still so hard to believe that they actually chop peoples heads off with a massive sword, and that people go to watch. I read in a tiny side column of the Arab News that five Yemeni men were convicted of murder and after their executions in Jazan the bodies were left on display for hours. As if chopping peoples heads off wasn't medieval enough. I think I've mentioned before that a disproportionate number of people losing their heads are immigrants, most likely due to discrimination and the fact that they can't buy their way out of the death penalty. Another thing I read in the paper was that two maids were convicted of practicing black magic and sentenced to 10 years in prison and 2000 lashes. OK, where to start with what's wrong with that sentence? The family they were working for claimed they were using black magic to cause them harm. The police apparently found the women in possession of a 'talisman,' which I'm thinking could be anything at all: a cross, a book, a pencil, a haribo ring, whatever suits the accusation. I also don't understand why supposedly religious people are worried about superstitions and witchcraft. Surely they shouldn't even believe in it?
And I don't even know where to start with the 2000 lashes. Seriously, what century is this?
 

Waiting to Live Again

As you've probably gathered if you've been reading my blogs for the past 9 months, my life in Saudi has been pretty uneventful, my social life almost non-existent. The highlight of our weekend was a get together with the people we live with, at the tables outside our front door. Actually it was lovely- the Thai lady we know cooked some amazing food and we had a fair bit of home made wine. I'm just saying that this is as exciting as it gets, which for me is a bit scary. Out of the whole of the rest of the weekend my outings totalled going to the corner shop (in a nasty sand storm) and going to the gym.
The thing that has saved us this year- and this is going to sound really sad- is TV. Lee and I were talking the other day about how many shows we've watched. I thought I'd share it with you, in order to display exactly how dull life has been.
In no particular order, since September we've made our way through:

• Downton Abbey, Seasons 1, 2 and 3.
• Dexter, Season 7.
• True Blood, Season 6.
• Game of Thrones, Season 2 (waiting for 3 to be finished so we can watch it all in one go!)
• Homeland, Season 1
• Heroes, Season 1
• Walking Dead, Season 1
• Spartacus, Seasons 1, 2 and 3
• Sons of Anarchy, Seasons 1, 2, 3, 4, and we're halfway through 5.

This show is the DON!

And on top of that countless episodes of Friends, South Park, Simpsons and Big Bang Theory.

Need a life, much?

I loved watching these shows (except walking dead) but as always too much of a good thing is never good. Seriously, I keep day dreaming about doing simple things like walking into town, sitting on a bench next to the fountain eating a jacket potato, or going to the park. And of course then there's the pub and just talking to people and being allowed to be sociable.
The kids have left school now and our private tutoring has finished too, so I go to work at 7am, do nothing, leave at 12pm, go home, do nothing. Don't get me wrong, it's good to chill, but it gets mighty boring after a while. We went food shopping yesterday and I was almost jumping along the aisles, bursting with energy- and anyone who knows me would say this is not normal (I am generally more a fan of lethargy). There were loads of women alone at the supermarket yesterday- obviously out for their highlight of the week too. It's funny that when you're looking at burkas you really notice people's footwear. There were twinkly toms, cork wedges and even some killer sexy high heels. I found myself asking, 'why would you wear your heels to the supermarket?' Lee made a good point in reply, 'when else are they gonna wear them?'
So that explains why the P.E teacher at school was so often seen in stilettos.

Saudi Air sums up the country (not a compliment, in case you were wondering)

This time last week I was so excited at work because we were about to go to Dubai! After planning a party then being told to cancel it, a few of my kids turned up anyway so we had an impromptu party complete with pin the tail on the donkey and a cake with my face on it! In a place where people are obsessed with technology and often shove their kids in front of an Ipad, it was so sweet/ sad to see how much the boys loved playing the old school party game. They really appreciate attention and a bit of simple fun.

Random....

We got to the airport late and were covered in sweat by the time we got there because the mini bus had no air con, so the 40 minute journey in the 40 degree heat was pretty hardcore. 
At the check in desk it was clear there was a problem, and we were told to go and see the manager. This 'manager' was one of the most unhelpful people I've ever met and simply kept telling us we didn't have a ticket number. He wouldn't even make a call for us or make any attempt to sort it out. I freaked out and wanted to punch him, but Lee stayed cool and let me sit down while he tried to deal with it. With less than an hour before the flight we had to go to the other terminal (not close by) to the Gulf Air desk to get our ticket number. At Riyadh airport you have to go through security even to get to the ticket desks, so Lee went in and I waited with our bags. Luckily, after fighting his way to get some help, he managed to get hold of the precious ticket numbers, and now with less than 30 minutes to go, he ran back to the first terminal to check in, with me attempting (badly) to run behind with two bags.
Somehow it all turned out alright and we got on the plane. I just couldn't believe the managers attitude towards us, he made me totally appreciate customer service at home. Even when we had the tickets and clearly not a lot of time, he insisted on giving Lee a lecture about how he was right about the ticket number.

The flight from Riyadh to Bahrain (we had to change to get to Dubai- seriously no flights come to Riyadh, I suppose because no passengers want to come here!) was only 50 minutes, but Saudi Air insist on putting on a full meal service. We were starving so I wasn't complaining, but when the seat belt sign came on for landing and the flight attendants had only just started cleaning the trays, we knew there was trouble. One woman dropped a tray as she tried to clear it away, and rice went everywhere. I've never seen a flight attendant do that before and I realised later that she must've been stressed. As the lights of the city came towards us, they were still frantically cleaning, then they gave up and made a run for the back, to try and secure everything and hopefully sit down. The last attendant - a  tiny Filipino woman- didn't make it before we actually came in to land. We were in the very back seat so we saw her brace herself against the back of the chair opposite and attempt to hold the very heavy wheely container thing to stop it rolling down the aisle. Lee helped her by holding it too. As the plane landed and put on the brakes, the trays began flying out of the holes, down the aisle, flinging rice and other leftovers everywhere. We were in row 48 and I heard a man say later that a tray reached him in row 32. By the time we stopped the flight attendant was crying. We asked her if she was OK, to which she replied, "no" and then said the heartbreaking words, "this is my life."
It's classic Saudi behaviour to expect totally unreasonable things to be done and to force 'lesser' people to do them. They don't care that their staff have to go through hell; they are determined to provide that meal at whatever cost. They are willing to risk their employees lives and also even put the passengers in danger. When we left the plane there were loads of trays on the chairs, which meant people had to hold them on their tables until we landed. Not to mention the fact that there was no time for a seat belt check.
It was all horribly undignified and embarrassing for the staff, and we heard them talking about how they had one hour to clean up and get the plane ready to fly again. We realised that they probably go through that shit at least once a day, every day. And all because the Saudi big men are too stupid to listen.

Oh the Wonderful Things Mr Brown can do!

On Tuesday and Wednesday after weeks of waiting and worrying (for teachers), the students finally did the performances for the mothers. I played camera man on Tuesday, taking videos of the girls, although I kept having to cut whenever someone walked through the shot. The principal had told the mothers that they weren't allowed to take any photos or videos, because women don't want their skimpily clad selves caught on camera. And of course what I mean by skimpily clad is wearing something like a long sleeved shirt and ankle length skirt. One woman was about to enter the auditorium (late for your child's end of year play, how Saudi of you) when she caught sight of me filming and jumped back out the way, hastily putting on her headscarf and covering her entire face with a veil.
This is fine by me if it's really how these ladies feel- each to their own and all that, but I found it slightly contradictory when they then all wanted to take photos of me. Seriously, after the boys performance I felt like a celebrity. Everyone took my photo with their kids, and sometimes with themselves, and by the end I was standing with about twelve boys infront of an army of abaya wearing paparazzi. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't care who had a photo of me, but in a place where men never get to see women it makes me a bit uncomfortable wondering who's hands these pictures might fall into. Better not to dwell on that one I think.

I was proud of the boys and what they achieved in their little performance. Sure, it wasn't Oscar winning, but I thought they did really well at speaking in English on stage and in speaking in front of all those people. I was planning to upload it for your entertainment and delight, but after 24 hours of computer torture the exercise has been deemed impossible.

Sorry folks!

One day I hope to not be such a computer spaz.

 

Anyway, last week I told the students that I'm leaving at the end of the year (big fat yippee!). In the boys class this caused a wave of shock and horror. Here are some snippets of conversations we had re: my departure.

Student: You not in Grade 3 teacher?
Me: No
Student: (look of pure confusion) Why?
Me: I'm going to go somewhere else. Maybe Dubai.
Student: No problem, I come Dubai.
Me: Or maybe Spain.
4 students: No problem, we come Spain!

We made some folders for them to put their English work in. They decorated them with crayons and pictures and glitter, which the boys enjoyed more than I expected.
One boy came up to me and said:
"Teacher, how spelling 'teacher Rachel is the best teacher?'"
Trying not to crack a smile I replied:
"Well, Teacher and Rachel are both on the board, you work the rest out."
He nodded and went back to his desk. About five minutes later he came back:
"Teacher, how spelling best?"

He's written teacher Rachel is the best teacher on the inside of his folder. The next day another boy opened it and read it out loud, to which the first boy got all embarrassed and slammed his folder shut. Ah so sweet.

My vain hope for these lovely eight year old Saudi boys is that they will grow into good people, not disrespectful bigheaded teenagers who drive around wearing thobes (the white dress and red and white tea towel, for want of a less racist description), thinking they're the biggest, best men in the world, swerving about the street like maniacs and shouting insults at foreigners.
But alas, I fear for most of them their path is already set. Still, a girl can dream can't she?

Dressing Up

Yesterday was school photo day. Now I know things have probably changed a lot in the last 20 years, but when I was seven a school photo involved smart school uniform and a formal levelled line up with the teacher. Here in Saudi the ideas are a little different. The girls were dressed up like dolls in these pink frilly things that would've had me in tears as a kid (I do actually remember crying once when my Mum made me wear a dress to my sisters birthday party). There were bows and sashes galore and even floppy silk hats and hoods. All of my girls except one-who's not Saudi- came to school with their hair straightened, because 'straight hair is good in Saudi Arabia.' I'm not sure I like the idea of changing your seven-year-olds natural appearance to create a supposedly more beautiful look. Again I know times have changed and straighteners weren't even around when I was their age, but I can't help finding this all a bit scary. The kids are already taking on their parents views and ideals of how they should look.
Perhaps I'm not being fair. I was, after all, a tom boy who had a bowl cut and was pleased when my teacher referred to me as a boy (it took me a long time to realise it was a joke). Maybe other girls of my era were just as conscious of what they looked like as the students are in my class. Maybe nothing has changed, and this country is normal.
No, that doesn't sound right.

For me the fact remains: whether this dressing up of young girls like dolls has been around forever or not, I dislike the way it prematurely prepares them for a life of preening and altering and generally being overly self-conscious.

Modelling one of the more understated numbers 

The admin staff had the job of getting the children dressed up and ready. You'd think this could be a fairly easy affair, like give the children their dresses and let them all put them on, then go round and help with zips. But oh no. Adults here encourage prudishness, teaching the children to hide from each other and be embarrassed about getting undressed. I've actually had a student before push a bookcase forward so she could get changed behind it. The girls yesterday were brought one by one into the office where I was working. The teacher signalled each child behind the door, then turned the light off, which made hardly any difference at all, as if to hide the children's modesty or something.

It's the end of the year, and as well as the silly photos, we also have a 'graduation' next week. All the mothers are coming (no men allowed, obvs) and they expect to be wowed with the cuteness of their offspring. My boys have been working really hard to put together an extract from Mr. Brown by Dr. Seuss. Unfortunately it's a bit of a mess and we've practiced up till now with me on the stage too, counting the boys in, passing them their posters and generally helping them to stay in time. I was also going to do a little intro speech, thanking the kids for being good and wishing them luck in their future endeavours etc. etc. But now, a week before, I've been told I'm not allowed on stage. So it's up to the kids to figure themselves out. I had a dream the other night where they got a quarter of the way through, got out of time from each other, forgot their lines, then gave up and just walked off the stage. I fear this could be a premonition.

In other news, it's raining hard. Day off methinks?

 

Praying for Rain

On Friday the heavens opened and there was a major downpour. Much like England and the snow, Saudi Arabia is not at all prepared for rain. There's no drainage on the roads so even a short sharp shower can create a problem. The sports centre had water pouring in through various holes in the ceiling, creating big puddles on the indoor football court. We had to wade through a river in the road to get back home (luckily I was wearing flip flops, but the old abaya got a soaking). Our school driver lives in a room by the outer door of our apartment block, and he was in serious danger of being flooded. It seems the idiots (I mean people, cough cough) who built this place thought it would be OK to make it on a slope, with no drains, leading down to the drivers room. Poor George was trying to push the water away before it came over the threshold.
So anyway, on Saturday we had a small miracle befall us, in that school was cancelled! Hurrah for King Abdullah who declared that all schools be closed. Sweet! The only annoying part was that we didn't find out until half 11 at night, by which time I was already in bed, rather than up partying.
On Saturday, much to my disappointment, there was hardly any rain. I had a great day watching films, making a map and generally bumming around. In the evening we waited up way too late hoping and wishing for that happy text message saying we would be off again on Sunday. But it never came (sob), which meant not only did we have to go to school the next day, but we were also really tired from excitedly waiting into the night.
Sunday morning was the first time in my life I've ever been angry at a clear blue sky. Damn you sun! Ever since then the clouds have been playing with my emotions, gathering and looking ominous, then disappearing beyond trace. And the weather forecast is just as bad, predicting thunder storms and then failing to deliver. What's the point in even predicting anything if you're as wrong as thunderstorms to 'actually no it's really hot and pleasant.' Hmpf.

My students were all really excited when they came back to school on Sunday. They were full of stories of picnics and swimming in the rain. Weirdos.

  

Getting Ready to say 'Farewell Little Monsters'

The title of this post might be a bit premature as we still have 4 official weeks left until the kids leave, but actually they won't turn up for the last two so I feel now that the end is nigh. I have to say I'm already feeling a bit sad about it. In Korea I only ever got to know the kids for 10 days at the most, so its been a new experience for me teaching 26 students for a whole year. As you might remember, at the beginning I absolutely despised the boys here. They were so undisciplined and rude that it was horrendous. But through a slow and steady drip of kindness, humour, rewards and a LOT of smack down, I now have lovely students who listen to me, enjoy my classes and crack me the hell up.
One of the turning points in me realising I might learn to love these boys was when one of them was sick in the class and another pointed at the pile of puke and said (insert Arab accent) 'teacher, corn flakes!'
A recent spelling word was 'moist,' which I explained by saying it meant 'a little bit wet.' The students looked confused so I elaborated by adding that it's like the wet stuff on your head after you play football.
So now, every time they come in from break, they show me foreheads and sometimes even arm pits, and say 'teacher, I have moist!' It just makes me laugh every time.

The girls class have been a constant throughout the year. Screechy, needy, full of endless stories, but also sweet and easily amused. This week they cut out and coloured planets and I set them homework to write about the solar system, to present to the class the next day.
One girl, aged eight, stood up and began to attempt to read a large passage of information beginning thus:

The solar system consists of the sun and its planetary system of eight planets, their moons and other non-stellar objects. It formed 4.6 billion years ago from the gravitational collapse of a giant molecular cloud.

It went on for another 100 words or so; you gotta love the old copy and paste from the internet.

Another girl presented this picture with pride:



Well done on the research

She told the class how each of the planets were feeling. The Earth is feeling sleepy, Neptune is feeling dancing, Uranus is feeling funny. 
I stopped her halfway with a subtle 'Thank you Yara, that's great,' but she responded with 'teacher, I not finish.' Then she carried on until she'd read everything on the page. 

Sometimes this job is too funny. There are moments where I want to kill someone and overall it's been a real roller coaster, but that's mainly due to the staff and the company.
One thing's for sure,  when I leave I'll really miss the little monsters that have made this place worth coming to.  

Loving the Dull Times

I've been thinking lately about the idea of "looking forward to things." When I was about seven years old I remember being freaked out when I realised that all things come to an end, no matter how long you look forward to them beforehand. For example, I would be excited for months about going away on holiday in the summer, and then all of a sudden it would come and go and I'd be like, Oh, it's over. I think sometimes the act of looking forward to something can eclipse the thing itself- if you get overly excited you're at risk of disappointment when the event arrives. There's also the age old problem of "time flies when you're having fun."
I guess this is on my mind because of the way my life is here. Sure, we're lucky to be able to afford lots of holidays, but it's tiring spending all the time in between just looking forward to them. And then inevitably they're gone in a flash. That's just the way it goes. Also I think being a teacher makes you see your life in blocks. Getting through that lesson, or that day, or that semester. Looking forward to Wednesday (that's Friday to you) and feeling a sense of dread when Friday night comes (the Sunday night blues). And it's weird because I don't even dislike my job, it's almost just an automatic reaction to 'going back to school.'

A quote from Catch 22 on the subject:

"Maybe a long life does have to be filled with many unpleasant conditions if it's to seem long. But in that event, who wants one?"

In a place where I constantly live for the holidays, I like to try and savour the boring/ down-right awful moments. I don't like to wish things away, and am also aware that in a few weeks I'll leave this place forever and hopefully will look back with some fond memories(?!)

My plan is this: to savour and secretly enjoy every moment, whilst tricking my brain into believing I'm not enjoying them. Also to not think too much about holidays but to let them creep up on me. Then I'll have a slow and fun life! Ha! 


Anyway, enough rubbish. Here's my holiday video. It's my second attempt at movie making, and I think it's a little better than the last one.

Make Someone Else Do It

Last Tuesday we took the kids on a trip. We were told of this two days before, and given an Arabic consent form to hand out. I was informed neither of what time we were going or where in fact we were going. I was simply told we're going on a trip. But such is the Saudi way.
We went to a activity centre in a mall, where the kids went into different areas to paint, cook and play. It was actually really good and there were staff running each activity, which made it easier on us. My class of boys went around with two others classes, which meant there were quite a lot of kids.
 


Look at my boys so good colouring in their pots

I noticed immediately that it was only the three western teachers accompanying the students to the activities. At the second station (cooking) we began to wonder where are those other teachers?
Then I looked out the window....
 




Can you see what I saw?

That's right! All the other staff-and I mean ALL the other staff- were sitting around drinking coffee and eating pizza. We went to see why and to see if someone else wanted to help the kids for a while. We were met with a crowd of stubborn and quite angry women who were unwilling to help out, based on the fact they'd been told the staff had it under control. But three classes of these boys with two adults simply isn't a good ratio. They needed us and it was probably just the company policy to say they didn't need help. In my opinion it was a bit dangerous to leave the boys unsupervised as they enjoy to run and kick and hit a lot. Being told they 'didn't have to work' however,  provided the perfect excuse for my colleagues to sit on their bums and do nothing.  
When we pushed the fact that someone else needed to go and help, the Saudis just started shouting at an Egyptian assistant, telling her she needed to go. Pass the blame, pass the responsibility.

As if this wasn't enough to prove the absolute laziness that exists here, I then witnessed this:

Guess what?

One of the Saudi women had brought her toddler along for the trip. As well as sitting on her butt the entire time talking to her friends, she actually got the maids to look after her child!


In the last week there's been a bit of panic at work regarding illegal workers. Illegal working is a massive problem here mainly for Pakistani, Indian and Egyptian women who come here with their spouses and then want to seek employment. It's generally cheaper for the employers to take them on illegally, rather than applying to change their visas, and so this is what happens. Not to mention that they then have no rights, which suits the companies fine. Last week there were rumours that police were coming into schools and checking papers, and that illegal workers were being thrown into prison or deported. As you can imagine, the seven women who come under the 'illegal worker' bracket at my school, were pretty freaked out and all stayed at home for a couple of days until things blew over.
The Saudis on the other hand appeared pretty smug about the whole thing. They seem to think foreigners are 'taking all the jobs.' The fact is that people from Asian countries such as India and the Philippines who work here do a lot of the menial jobs and are paid almost as slaves. Try 80 pounds a month for a full time job.
I'm so tired of the racism here. It's like they don't even see these people as real people. And the joke is, a lot of the people who come over here to work are actually Muslims and they are still treated like inferior beings.
I find myself fantasising about all the immigrants leaving overnight. Because I'm absolutely sure that the following day Saudi Arabia would grind to a very abrupt halt.

Beauty is in the eye of the Nation

When I spend time at home now I feel thoroughly left behind by the fashions and make-up. In England the trend is to be tanned (sometimes teetering on orange) and of course to strive always to be mega thin. In other countries, however, the idea of what beauty is may be totally different. In Korea I was called fat on countless occasions (boohoo) because girls-and often boys- are pint sized there. In Saudi Arabia many women are overweight and men seem to prefer them that way. So now I'm skinny!
In Korea white skin is favoured, to the point where some people actually put white make up on. Skin whitening products are also readily available. In Saudi Arabia, there's a tendency to look down on people with darker shades of skin.
In terms of fashion, Koreans like to dress the same as each other- short shorts, t-shirts (no shoulders please!) and high heels no matter what the occasion or weather. Here is Saudi there's a mega obsession with designers and expensive jewellery. It's all about how you look and what you're wearing, ironic because most of the time all that is seen by others is a burka.
Eyes are another interesting area. Often in Korea I saw adverts for eye surgery and it's common knowledge that most celebrities and a fair few regular people too have it done.

In Saudi the eye-related beauty measures are less extreme, but still entertaining. They wear loads of mascara and even more eye liner and I think it's maybe because this is one of the only areas where they can express their personality and show an element of individuality.
 

They also have big eyebrows, often pencilled in or with the lower hairs bleached blonde. A bit weird, but I still prefer it to the 'plucked to within an inch of your life' eyebrows that some girls opt for at home.

I guess what I'm trying to say in all this is that beauty is subjective, and that there really it's just silly to feel pressured into follow a certain fashion or idea, because often one countries glamour is another's shit. Just go to a different country! And on top of that, a nation itself is constantly evolving in terms of what's fashionable or beautiful, and if you've cut half your eyelids off in the quest then you're gonna find it a bit problematic to change them back when the time comes. Just sayin'.
    

A Day at the Races

Last Friday we went to Riyadh equestrian club (sounds so posh) to watch the horse racing. I've never been to a racetrack before so it was quite exciting. It was nice to see something aesthetically pleasing in this city.

 

The track complete with fountain 

 

We had an amazing buffet lunch in the V.I.P area, where us girls were allowed to take off our abayas. A dear diary moment! Although a little strange as all the Saudi men down on the ground could see us...

Betting is, naturally, illegal in the KSA so we had to have a little bet of our own on our table. The lucky winner was to become the proud owner of the carrot of glory, the horserace guidebook and about 4 riyals (less than a pound). Exciting times!

I was like- who's that weird guy? (it's the king)
 

 One does have to wonder exactly what the point is of a racecourse without gambling? I'm not the biggest fan of gambling but I can't deny it does spice things up somewhat. Otherwise, who really cares who wins?
We soon realised that gambling would be a bit pointless anyway, even if it wasn't haram (forbidden). The winner of the first race we watched was a horse called Hattrick. We looked in the guidebook to see who it was owned by. Can you guess? Yes, it was in fact one of the Kings horses. A lucky coincidence? We paid close attention to the next few races and sure enough, the Kings horses won all of them. Takes the edge of the excitement somewhat, and also renders betting pointless. Evens anyone?
I was reminded very much of one of my favourite Disney films, in which everyone has to make absolutely sure that a certain Queen wins the game of croquet, for fear of losing their heads. Could a similar situation be going on here? The King winning all the races. Check. People getting their heads chopped off. Check.

 

All in all it was a really great day out. Nice company, a change of scenery from the four walls of our prison, and some lovely food. I think if you search hard enough, there are some things here that aren't entirely hateful :)

Kingdom Tower (that's right, we ventured out!)

At the weekend we finally went into ‘town’ to see Kingdom Tower. The Mall there is massive and we mooched around for a bit, mainly just stopping at Taco Bell and Starbucks. As I’ve mentioned before, the Saudis are generally obsessed with expensive clothes and jewellery. Personally I would argue that this comes from a lack of other fulfilment's such as being able to go out and enjoy yourself, but hey that's just my opinion. I also think sometimes their obsession borders on worship, which from a religious perspective could be seen as equally bad, if not worse than, say, drinking alcohol. One of the shops was Saks, Fifth Avenue, which made me laugh. I feel like the whole point of a shop like that is to express not only the fashion but the lifestyle and culture that goes with it. To have it here is an insult to New York!  

Kingdom Tower from the floor

The journey up Kingdom Tower was much like going up any tall tower (the most recent for me being Taipei). We went up in a lift, and then we were there. The bridge, with it's glass walls is very high and very scary!
We thought it was funny that there was a sign saying ‘no photography.’ OK, so I don’t believe in taking photos in some situations, for example at a concentration camp, or in a theatre, but as Lee pointed out, for what other reason would you really go up a tower?

The report from the top of the tower is as follows: Riyadh is as shit all over as it is in our little area of it. We searched the mass of sand coloured buildings for something beautiful. I found one park and one swimming pool. At least I was reassured that we’re not missing much; that we're not stuck in the only crappy part of the city. I remember that at the top of the Stratosphere in Vegas I was struck by how beautiful the contrast was between the bright lights of the city and the canyon beyond. But the view from Kingdom Tower showed only the mass of endless sand coloured blocks, followed by a hazy sandy mist in the background. 
The most amazing (-ly disgusting) part of the view was the roads, leading in straight lines in and out of the city. The traffic was as fun to behold from way up high as it is unbearable to be in when you are stuck in it. From the Tower it was plainly obvious that the city isn't coping with the lack of public transport. How can a city this big survive with only cars and taxis? It’s ridiculous and not to mention bad for the environment.

Talking of the environment, I think Saudi Arabia is possibly the most wasteful and polluting country I’ve ever been to. I haven’t seen a single recycling bin since I’ve been here, they give you fifty nine million plastic bags when you go food shopping and of course they use so, so much petrol. Urgh. I've been doing a recycling project with my students and so far I think they think recycling means just not throwing their rubbish on the floor like they normally would. But I digress.

There’s also a restaurant at the top of the tower that’s meant to be really nice, which we might go to on our anniversary.
So that’s Kingdom Tower. If you’re ever in the area (haha how I joke) you should give it a look.

Childhood

When I think back to my childhood I'm fondly reminded of 'playing out', of riding my bike, making dens in the fields around the village, building tree houses and generally being outside with my friends. Good times. 
When I lived in London I used to think it was a shame that kids are generally deprived of this freedom, due to the roads being busy and there being a overall feeling of distrust towards others. I was a youth worker before I moved to London but it was only in London that I was introduced to 'Play Work,' a government idea designed to give the under 11's the 'right to play.' It was good because it meant there was lots of playgrounds and play centres, but still lacking that essential element of kids being able to have adventures on their own, without the supervision of adults.  

Now and Then




My Girl
(although childhood is of course better without the dead friend)

But now I can safely say that when it comes to the freedom of the child (or lack thereof) Riyadh blows London out of the water. People here live behind walls, and their kids are confined to playing on the small patch of concrete between their front gate and their house. The five year old girl I know was even riding her bike inside the other day. But the real reason Riyadh is worse is because things just deteriorate for children as they become teenagers. The fourteen year old I know dreams of having a sleepover with her friends, but for one reason or another she's never been allowed to have one. When I was fourteen I would stay at my friends house or her at mine pretty much every week and sometimes without even asking our parents first (shocking), or on a school night (doubly shocking). It just wasn't that big a deal. And then there were the party sleepovers with several people, watching loads of films and eating junk, telling ghost stories and talking about boys. And all of that fun from the safety of your own home. I don't understand why a parent would deprive a child of this joy when there's no danger in it at all.  
It's like the parents here worry that the other children will be a negative influence or something. As far as I'm aware, a lot of Saudi kids spend the weekends only with their immediate family, or sometimes their cousins if they're lucky. And the rest of the time it's just them on their own, sitting in their rooms playing on their IPad. 

Just another thing to add to the list of things that make me sad about this place...

Watching and watched

It's been brought to my attention that we're most probably being watched and that the powers that be know where we go and what we're doing nearly all the time. Also that people we know here may in fact be 'informers.' Way to make you distrust everybody...
This is a scary thought if you're doing something wrong, or are going somewhere you shouldn't be, but where we're concerned I think it must be a pretty dull job for the watcher. Ooh look, they've gone food shopping again. And now they've gone to the book store. And now the gym. And now back to work. Yawn. It could possibly make for the worlds worst documentary film. But nonetheless it's still a bit creepy.

Something that's really bothering me at the moment is that the internet connection provided for us by the company is terrible and most the time even simple things like facebook photos fail to load. We've complained about this numerous times, and even bought our own internet package, but that turned out to be a complete waste of time because it didn't work either. As a person who works in foreign countries, I feel wholly reliant on the internet. Amongst other things it's my source of entertainment, of communication with people at home and not to mention my only means of seeking other employment. 
The other day I was at a pirate DVD stall, thinking "wow this really is old school," and "are you really telling me I have to pay 25 riyals for a film?" Which in case you don't know, is only about £3.50, but it just seems so weird now to be asked to pay anything for it, when we've become so used to downloading.
I just can't imagine being here without the internet, I think I'd feel so cut off and isolated. I've met someone recently who was in Saudi Arabia before internet was around. Now that really is unthinkable. To be immersed in this world without a means of escapism, or an easy way to talk to family, must've been awful. Also I think the attitudes here would've been very different too- before people had any way of finding out what the outside world was like. Freaky.

So that's it really. Could you live without the internet?


And finally, a poem I made up:

Abaya, abaya, you make-a me fly-a,

windy and sweaty, the sun is so bright.

You're dusty and dirty,

not pretty or flirty

Except the gold trimming-alright!





The Way They Live

This week I've had a serious eye-opener regarding the standards of living for expats in this country and how that compares to our housing. Don't get me wrong, our flat is nice enough in many ways, apart from the continual things that go wrong. Most recently we've been having the water from the kitchen sink coming out of the drain on the floor, soaking our feet as we finish washing up. How pleasant. I won't bore you with any of the other issues we've faced, but let's just say there's always something and it always takes a lot of hassling people to get it sorted out.
On Wednesday we were invited to a compound to go to the restaurant for dinner. The woman who invited us has a villa there which was absolutely lovely and made me wanna puke with envy. There was a huge open plan living space that included two sitting rooms, a dining area and loads of lovely furniture. Of course her husband has a very important job here and makes lots of money, so I'm not deluded enough to think I'd ever end up anywhere as good but something even remotely close would be nice.
The standard of the housing provided by our company is also shown up by what the Saudis have themselves. Their homes are often nothing short of palatial, with tall walls around to keep them hidden and safe from the outside world. The family we tutor have just moved into a new house like this. It has three massive floors, and the fourteen year old's room includes a dressing room and en-suite bathroom. I'm only mentioning this not because I expect a palace (although it would be great to feel like a Disney princess!) but because it highlights what Saudis expect for themselves, compared to what they are providing for their foreign workers. And let's not even get started on what they give the Egyptian teachers and the Pakistani/Indian drivers to live in...

 

The thing that struck me most about the compound was not the house itself, but the freedom that comes with living there. Women especially need somewhere in Saudi Arabia where they can be themselves, walk freely and get some fresh air without needing a male chaperone or a cloak to hide behind, and without being hassled by men driving by. The compound included a football pitch, a basketball court and a swimming pool, as well as little gardens for all the houses. The restaurant was lovely and everyone was just dressed in normal clothes rather than abayas. In comparison, at our place we have what can only be described as a prison courtyard to play in, where the sun is present for no more than two hours a day. It's tiny and it's claustrophobic and it simply isn't good enough.

Question: The lush compound or our prison?

I noticed at the compound that there was a major absence of people our age. There were middle aged couples and teenagers. This reassured me that I'm not the only 20-something being treated like a mug here, and that it probably takes time to figure out what's on offer and to work your way in. 
I particularly enjoyed seeing the young people, who were having a disco as we ate dinner. It made me think about my old work in England as a youth worker/key worker and then I had an epiphany- I could be Saudi Arabia's first compound Youth Worker! I'm sure those kids could benefit from some informal education projects and sexual health awareness. And it'd be perfect for me because it wouldn't be too ghetto: I don't think drugs or knife crime have quite hit the compound youths yet.  

So now my mission is clear: if we're staying in this country we need to find somewhere decent to live. Bring it on!

Fitting back in

It's funny really, to call somewhere so alien 'home,' but there it is: I'm back home. It was nice to return to our flat and to put up the new pictures we've bought, although due to carelessness on my part we're now the proud owners of a Bob Marley poster (instead of the serene beach scene I thought I picked up). Bit late for me to be entering a stoner/hippy/student faze, but I suppose it adds a certain charm to the pool room.
In coming back I had hopes and dreams of doing all sorts of motivated things- you know me- like writing and speaking Arabic etc, and especially with our private lessons being cancelled this week I thought I'd have loads of time. But actually I've just slept most of the afternoons away so far, and now I'm wondering how on earth I'll ever find the space in my life for the eight hours a week tutoring, let alone anything else.
School is comfortingly chaotic. There've been a lot of changes, some good and some bad, meaning the school is just going in a crab-like sideways motion in terms of any improvement. It's starting to be quite amazing how there can be so many staff but so little organisation. My boys class have gone back to their jungle child punch up ways this week, as they're being left unsupervised way too often. The only difference now (for me) is that they listen (to me), but apart from that the school has reverted back to a place not dissimilar to when I first arrived.
Sigh.
On the bright side however, they've finally deemed it necessary (due to my constant whining) to put pencils and crayons in each classroom. Hurrah for progress! And they've also given us some books with space for writing and drawing, where the kids can actually take pride in their work rather than just working on a piece of paper then loosing it. 
Big things are happening here I tell you, big things.





This is what the classrooms are like sometimes.
I often call the kids monkeys, to the point where one girl
wrote on her new book today Name: Yara monkey.

One thing I keep reminding myself is that it's only 8 weeks till the next holiday! And I've already done three days...





 

 

 



Boys see girls, girls see boys

This week, in a major lapse of concentration due to being over tired and it being half six in the morning, I left for work (and indeed arrived at work without even noticing) without my abaya on. This created an uproar: the women I work with were shocked/amazed/astounded and amused by how I could possibly have managed to do such a thing. As one of my friends put it, I've "been here for a while now so should be used to it." I guess she doesn't understand that it would take a bit more than three months for me to be 'used to' wearing an abaya. Sure, I've become accustomed to it in some ways: I don't trip on it quite as much as I did before, and thanks to a generous friend I am the proud owner of one that does up down the front, which is much more comfortable. It allows me to undo the top button when I'm too hot, or subtly take off my jumper underneath if I feel like I'm gonna die. Which reminds me of another story actually. The other day I was shopping alone in Mothercare and it was seriously boiling, so I decided to do my trick and take off my hoody. Well, it's fair to say it could've gone better. I took one arm out, then the other, then got stuck because the hood was sticking out over the top of my abaya and I couldn't reach to pull the whole thing up over my head. So in the end, after attracting significant attention from the male shop assistants, I had to wiggle and wriggle until I could pull the blasted thing out from underneath me. Needless to say, I left the shop in a hurry after that, much more hot and flustered than I had been at the beginning.
Anyway, on with my 'I forgot my abaya' story. So after giving the women at work great amusement, I then had to brave going to get on a bus to go to a meeting. The schools have these screens at the entrances, to stop men prying I suppose. We were all standing around talking and I happened to look out past the screen to find I was on show for all the world to see, and there were at least two men in parked cars staring at me. Makes you feel like a stripper in one of those 1 euro peepshows in Amsterdam, (minus the payment, dammit!)
After school I had to walk the two minutes home through the back roads. You'd think that a long black skirt, long sleeved black top and headscarf would be enough to ward off unwanted attention, but no such luck. We were actually followed by a car with three young men in it, who whistled and shouted at us for the majority of the way.
My conclusion to this episode is that the rules here are creating men who just simply aren't capable of being around non abaya-clad women, and should, in fact, stay in Saudi Arabia forever.

Another entertaining thing that happened recently was when we all went to a meeting at another school. Actually, I wasn't invited to the meeting as it was going to be conducted in Arabic (well done school, how thoroughly 'international' of you) but I stowed away anyway in a bus full of Arabic women, thus realising first hand a major perk of a burka- blending in.
When we got to our destination the bus driver didn't know where to park, so we drove around a bit in circles. Lee was waiting for me, and so I pointed him out to my colleagues. And, I kid you not, it was like I'd been transported to a fan club tour bus full of teenagers at a One Direction concert or something. There was screaming and screeching and cries of 'very handsome!' gallore.
It would seem, therefore, that just like the men here, the women also can't cope with the excitement. 

Click this link to read about another case of someone using the burka for a great escape. Amazing.

  

Make a Decision!

Usually the new year is a time for feeling refreshed and ready for new challenges. But right now I feel tired and over it and totally ready for my holiday in two weeks time. I'm going home for a week, which feels like the most exciting thing EVER!
At school we're in a bit of a pickle due to two things: being pulled in different directions by varying levels of management, and not making decisions early enough, or sticking to any decisions made. So we have a situation where there are some kids at school, most kids not, and staff being asked to 'teach' a program that we haven't planned for, with no books.
But hey, I'm getting pretty used to the disorganisation and am finding the key to sanity is to not expect anything until it actually happens and, more importantly, to just laugh at the mess.

On the new year theme, I read a blog the other day about goals and getting into new habits etc. Always keen to develop good habits (still need to work on not picking my nose!), I tried to take in some of the advice. One thing that definitely applies to me is making quick decisions. I am classically indecisive- a fact I often blame on being a Gemini- and can usually argue with equal vigour why I should do one thing, or another. The blog says that you shouldn't worry about making a bad decision but go for what you feel is right. It also says most decisions can be reversed, or if not, you'll get over it, so don't worry so much. Just the simple act of making a decision is a very good idea if you want to get anything done.
Another important way in which to be more productive, is apparently to pick one thing to do, and do it. Sounds simple and logical, but I have a really hard time with this notion. I've always liked to have lots of 'projects' on the go, and I've noticed particularly recently that I have developed a very short attention span. Of course if I just focused on Arabic for example, then it follows that I'd be very good at it within a few months. But then what about my story, and my 'exercise plan' and my blog? Not to mention practising my juggling skills and cross stitch and making bracelets and all the other little things I want to do. I admire people who're focused, but I've always preferred a bit of everything, which perhaps accounts for why I'm never that successful at anything!!!
Speaking of new projects, I've ordered two musical instruments (small enough for travel) which I'm going to bring back with me in January.



My new Ukulele.





An Ocarina! I have no idea how to play it but it looks like fun.
 

There is no way I could possibly pick one thing to do. For now I think I'll try to 'keep my fingers in lots of pies' and see how it goes. But if you have any ideas on how I can focus on one thing, whilst getting to do lots of other things too, a.k.a having my cake and eating it, then let me know!