Quirks and Talents

Today I've been reflecting on my love/hate relationship with teaching children. They are so annoying but I would certainly miss them if I didn't work with them anymore. They mess around and fidget and fight. They tell the teacher on each other, "Teacher Cunning!" being their way of informing me that someone is cheating during a game. They pick their noses all the time. They don't listen, they argue and bicker and swing back on their chairs until they fall. 
Then there are the funny, quirky things. Like this morning, a boy took the stairs four at a time, stretching each leg out as far as it would possibly go, just for fun. Another boy "swam" across the floor to his team line. They laugh at my stupid jokes and are enthusiastic about games and stamps and winning. Boys and girls will scream and immediately stop arguing with each other if I ask if they are boy/girl friend (whilst making a heart shape with my hands).  They emphatically inform me they are bery bery bery hungry! or moan when another student cuts the lunch line Teacher, sejegae! (bad spelling).

But my favourite thing about kids, the thing I would miss the most, is how happy and in the moment they are.
 
The other day we had a talent show. Being someone who only plays the piano in a shadowy, deserted room, I'm always amazed and delighted by the willingness of Korean kids to showcase their talents. They love to dance to K pop (with its wonderful set dance moves- so regimented, so Korean). They love to sing. Sometimes they play instruments and other times they act. I've seen all sorts, and naturally the ability ranges from wonderful to painful, but in my eyes the students who suck are to be more admired. To be able to stand up on stage in front of your whole school and sing a shaky, way-out-of -your-vocal-range rendition of "I Dreamed a Dream" from Le Mis is no easy task. Well done, I say! Seriously though, somewhere down the line I developed this idea that I would only do something if I was good at it, and even then sometimes I wouldn't want to. I love that these kids just go for it, whatever their ability.
This week's talent show was extra special because we had a surprise performance from the entire school, aka more than a hundred kids dancing in a regimented mass. It was amazing.

 How can I ever say my job is boring?

Last week Lee and I went to the Asian Games, to watch a women's semi-finals cricket match between Bangladesh and Sri Lanka. It wasn't the most spectacular thing I've ever seen but nonetheless it was fun and I improved my (albeit almost non existent) cricket rule knowledge. The crowd was sparse to say the least, outnumbered by cameramen 2-1, meaning that we were filmed quite a lot and probably have now appeared on Bangladeshi prime time TV. It was a wonderfully sunny beer-filled day, so perfect that I even had a little snooze halfway through the game. Afterwards we walked around the stalls outside the main stadium, so Lee could play on the games and make new friends.

It was tense, I can tell you

Can you spot the boys in the crowd??

Lee's big win

In the moon

Lee's buddy

A grand day out!

 

Thirty and in Dirty Blackpool

As usual, the act of being at home has rendered me terribly busy! I've been here, there and everywhere, seeing people, catching up and of course eating and drinking too much. Oh yes, and all that on top of bashing out a 60,000 word first draft of a story in preparation for my dissertation. It's amazing how a pen can run away with itself!
My 30th birthday was a momentous occasion, and I must say I'm feeling completely older and wiser now. Ha. I've been thinking about everything that happened in the decade that was my 20s. At the beginning of it I was in my second year at university and working at pizza hut. By the end of it I'd had 16 other jobs spanning six different countries, as well as in four different cities in England. I got married. I became an aunty (three times!). I visited lots of wonderful places and met countless wonderful people. 
Yes, my 30s have got a lot to live up to, but I feel sure they're up to the challenge!

Last weekend was my sister's hen night in sunny Blackpool. As is obligatory in these sorts of situations, we were drinking by 10am on the bus and arrived to overcast skies and heavy rain to drink some more. She had the full fluffy pink works including everything there is that is 'willy' (willy lollipops, willy whistles, willy straws, you name it). We headed out to a transvestite show, which I have to say showcased Blackpool's absolute finest. That sounds sarcastic, but it's really not. In it's heyday Blackpool was the place to go: ballroom dancing in the the tower, shows, fair rides on the pier and donkey rides on the sandy beach. Unfortunately with the decline of the British seaside holiday (which the crappy weather is largely to blame for), Blackpool seems to now have a sign at the gates saying 'hen and stag dos only.' The result is a load of dirty people being loud and getting paralytic. I saw a fair few collapsed people and ambulances by the time the night was over. Not to mention the fact that Blackpool is known for having a pretty down-and-out populace. 'Funny Girls,' however, was wonderful. Set in a proper theatre, it included tap dancing, ballroom dancing and acrobatics. There were tributes to Michael Jackson and the Spice Girls, and even an amusing montage from The Sound of Music! Despite being up on the balcony I went to order at the downstairs bar, simply to get a closer look at the trannies serving the drinks there. They were amazing! What struck me was the difference between the Dame Edna-esque trannies of Blackpool and the lady boys of south east Asia. The hugely tall compared to short, the larger than life wigs compared to glossy home grown hair, the stuffed bras compared to the real fake boobies, the gruff voices and stubbly chins compared to the high pitched girly laughs and baby soft cheeks. The adams apples compared to the lack thereof. The transvestites compared to the transsexuals. The list goes on. 
One of my favourite parts of the evening was wondering what the 80 year old woman in the booth next to us thought of it all...

All in all I have to say Blackpool proved itself as a right laugh-if a bit of a dive. 

The hens out in the sun (if you ask me 7pm is way to early for this sort of thing!)

Tranny Sound of Music aka 'Rachel's highlight.' Terrible picture but hey...

It's really quite pretty when you look at it this way

Hoping to be back a little sooner next time. But in the words of the north, I'll say turrah for now!

 

Jeju Island Love

A couple of weeks ago we were kindly invited by a friend to stay with her in Jeju Island.
The centrepiece of the island is Korea's largest mountain: a snow capped inactive volcano that erupted a very, very long time ago (yes, that's as accurate as my geography-history is going to get today), creating the rock formations that make up the lay of the land today. 


But before we could begin all the cultured sightseeing, we had to get one job out of the way: an entirely necessary trip to Jeju's famous Love Museum!

 

Needless to say it was an entertaining experience. I particularly liked the small and notably loveless 'Kids Land' outside the entrance to the museum- a depressing indoor play area for people to deposit their kids before going off to enjoy themselves. 



And now- allowing the photos to speak for themselves- back to an entirely different type of au naturel...   

Rock walk around the cliff

Hole in the wall

The view from the posh live-jazz-in-the-middle-of-the-day hotel we nosed around

Indulging  my Alice in Wonderland side at a maze

The 1km long lava cave. It was so tranquil in here, the only sound the atmospheric drip dipping of water from the ceiling

About to climb the crater

A view from the top through a telescope

The crater

And back down again

I'd definitely visit again, knowing now how much more there is to see. The beaches for one are just lovely, although next time I want to visit during a slightly less blustery season!

 

Trying to Try New Things

During January two ever so slightly less than successful new experiences have come my way.

1. Skiing

Looking back I was so naive to think what I thought: that everyone could ski, that it was no big deal. In my head those things were true. And that's how Lee and I ended up at the top of a mountain slope, wondering how the f*ck we were going to get down. 

I knew I was in trouble as soon as I put on the boots. They were incredibly tight and rigid, and almost impossible to walk in. I nearly fell on the steps from the car park to the ski slope. I probably should've turned back then.

I tried to learn how to move and stop. I couldn't do it. Within minutes Lee went sliding uncontrollably down into the path of oncoming skiers, promptly falling over and detaching ski boot from ski.

For some reason after this we and our two other companions thought the natural progression would be to get on the ski lift and just 'give it a go.'
The journey was pretty and would've been quite relaxing had I not been thinking about how I was going to manage to get off the thing.
Lee was in front and it was his turn. 
He got off and fell over. 
I nearly snapped my legs off having not understood the Korean command 'lift your feet up.' My turn came and I began to panic. I couldn't bring myself to jump off the stupid thing. 
Before I knew it I was swinging around and heading back down. 
I wish they'd left me but unfortunately the staff pressed the emergency stop button and, much to my extreme mortification, came to my rescue. They took my skis off and put them to the side. I waddled over, re-attached them, moved about three feet and fell on my bum.
In the middle of asking if I was OK, Lee began to slide towards the hill. Before either of us knew what was happening, he was sliding down the hill. 
My friend thought Lee was simply keen to get stuck in, but I'd seen the look on his face as he went faster and faster with no idea of how to stop.
He disappeared, leaving me to wonder: 
a) if he was going to live to tell the tale  
b) how I was going to go about following him.

The next hour consisted of me shuffling, slightly sliding, falling, spending excessive amounts of energy trying to get up, getting sweaty and stressed and being embarrassed.
I thought skiing was supposed to be fun?
Eventually I asked my friend to go on without me, leaving me to cool off in the awkward position on the slope that I'd fallen in. 
Lee came back for me- which was very nice considering he felt he was a risk up on that slope to himself and everyone else around.  
I had one last failure of a go and after that we took our skis off and slid down the mountain in our boots. Now that was quite fun!


Next time (if there is one) I will be getting a lesson.

Sitting safely at the bottom

2. Visiting a dog cafe. 

Dog and cat cafes are pretty normal in Korea. They are what they say on the tin- a place to drink coffee with friends and pet said animals. 
I've always been intrigued, which is why I forgot to consider one rather large problem- I hate dogs.
On the journey there it became more and more apparent that I was being a bit stupid. I've never been friends with a dog. I've been bitten by two different dogs and attemptedly humped by several. They are smelly and needy and hairy and disgusting. They bark and jump up and have big teeth. In general- except for the really small fluffy ones- I find them quite terrifying.  
As you can imagine I felt like a complete idiot when we arrived and I had to be coaxed even into the 'small dog' arena. How stupid do you have to be to go to a dog cafe when you're not at all keen on dogs?

Lee and his new friends

In the big boys section were a range of breeds and sizes, free to jump up on the adoring customers as they pleased. I lingered at the gate, looking over nervously, but couldn't bring myself to go in.

So I sat in the corner, hoping none of the little dogs would notice I was there. Sometimes a big dog or two would enter the small dog pen, causing an uproar of noise amongst the dogs, and a near heart attack in me. A golden retriever thought it would be funny to slip in when the gate was opened, and run around the edge of the room under all the tables. My heart leapt into my mouth as I held my breath, hoping he would pass without attacking me. 

And then, the beast to end all beasts, the king of all that is canine, a massive white thing paraded through with its owner. It was fluffier than anything I've ever seen on four legs, yet still its part-wolf-part-horse look frightened the living daylights out of me. Surely it could (and may well) devour every single one of us? My only protection was the chihuahua sitting next to me who began yapping like crazy, clearly thinking he could take on the monster.

Teddy bear/monster wolf cross breed

Thankfully the outing wasn't a complete disaster, in that I did make one friend. A small raggedy old thing that sat next to me, tongue out, slobbering on the chair. Sure, he was asleep for most of the time, but I did manage to stroke him a couple of times.
 

So there you have it: a summary of how Rachel tried and failed to do new things! 

What will be next?
  

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.

Don't mention Chr*stm*s

The thought police are upon us. Beware.

 

This week has been an interesting one.

At the weekend we tried to be cultured by embarking on an expat desert walk. We packed our bags with water, sunglasses and sandwiches, and arrived at the meeting spot. Rather than asking around and being pushy, we waited, as us Brits tend to do, until everyone else had found a driver. Finally a car pulled up and offered Lee a lift, so in we got. The guy, we soon found out, was a reckless driver and a general nutter (American of course!!). Oh yes, that's right, and it turned out he had not the faintest clue where we were going. A road trip ensued, with music, drinks and far-too-fast-for-comfort driving. After at least a couple of hours, involving many a camel sighting, some off-road bumpy rides and a wee behind a sand dune (I was desperate!), we finally admitted defeat and went home. Even though we never made it to the walk, it was a lot of fun, and really nice to be out of the city. Here is the one photo I took:







Stunning, huh?!
There were actually a lot of really beautiful sights such as valleys and layered rock towers, but it was hard to capture them when flying past at 110 miles an hour.

The reason I mention the thought police is because this week I've been firmly reminded of where I am, and therefore what I'm not allowed to say to the students. The list is long, and at times shocking. One of the things we are not supposed to mention is the C word. And no, I don't mean the one that you're thinking of (you rude people), I mean CHRISTMAS. Uh-oh, I went and said it.

After some deliberation on whether or not to act on my phantom stomach bug, I finally decided to go to the hospital, where I was thoroughly examined and given two days sick leave. It was so nice yesterday to sleep in past 5.30am (can you believe that's what time I get up?) and to just relax all morning. We watched Muppet Christmas Carol and opened some lovely presents from family. Then later we had a roast dinner with the people we live with, outside in the sun. We did a secret Santa and all in all it was about as festive as we could've made it.

                                                                             

                                            

Despite wishing I could be at home, I still had a really rather good day.
My only grievance is in relation to chocolate, and I will tell you all about it now.
The other day we bought a tin of Quality Street, in the hope of inspiring the festive mood. When I opened the tin, however, I immediately knew something was wrong. There were far too many purples and yellows. I have no idea why, but the tin only contained six different chocolates: the purple one, toffee penny, toffee finger, caramel swirl, the green one and some random one that I don't even know, "chocolate hazelnut crunch". What the F? Where's my orange crunch, my strawberry delight, my VANILLA FUDGE? This may sound insignificant and petty to you, but when even that promise of a little taste of home gets pulled from under you, it's pretty damn annoying.
 

                                                                  

 Anyway,  that's about it for now. I hope you all ate and drank your own body weight yesterday and generally had a very merry time (and that it is continuing well in to today)!
 

 

Laws, lines and ludicrousy

There's been lots and not a lot going on in my world this week. Here is my ramble about it all.
At school they've put tape along the floor in the hallways- one red line and one blue line. Can you guess what it's for? That's right, it's one line for girls and the other for boys. It goes all the way through the school including up two flights of stairs and the best part is that it stops in two places and then the lines swap over (unintentionally I'm guessing). So if the kids were to walk next to each other in the 'appropriate' lines there would be complete pandemonium when they had to cross over, and someone would surely end up pregnant. Wait, is that not the worry here? Oh, maybe I over-reacted.
On the plus side at school we only have two weeks left with the kids and then I face the moral dilemma of whether to fail the bad boys and consequently have to spend an extra week teaching them (very painful) or give them a B grade (which is what the parents and Principal want) and send them off to enjoy the holiday. What would you do??
 
Last weekend we ventured out to a bazaar at the diplomatic quarter. All of the embassies are there and it's generally considered OK to take off your abaya. And I tell you what, it's scary to say it, but it felt weird. Like, a little bit naked. Especially when there were Arab men around. It's funny how quickly you can get used to something so alien. A woman in a car was filming us at one point, pretending to be just filming a house next to us. But that's what we like to do to them- how the tables have turned! Maybe we're not as subtle as I think we are, seeing as we noticed straight away when it was being done to us.
 
I have also been reflecting on some rather serious things this week, due to conversations that have come my way and events that have taken place. It goes without saying that the school shooting has been on my mind. Really there are no words to describe how appalling it was, so I won't even bother to try. Other topics have been arranged marriage and the death penalty, neither of which I can find it in me to agree with.
I've had someone at work tell me plainly that she's married to her cousin (who she doesn't like) and a fourteen year old girl telling me matter of factly that her Mum married her Dad 'becuase he is her cousin,' as if that not only explained it but justified it. Some arranged marriages I'm sure work out quite well, but to me marriage should always be primarily about love. And Vegas. Haha.
As Lee pointed out, all we can say is we hope this fourteen year old girl doesn't hate her little boy cousins...

The death penalty, as we all know, exists in Saudi Arabia in the form of public beheadings. Whilst doing some research today I came across a picture of someone kneeling about to be executed, with a man running at him, sword raised. The picture made me feel sick. Thinking about it and actually seeing it are two very different things, and I find it truly fascinating that people go to 'chop chop square' to witness these events. The idea of actually watching someone carry out such an act- regardless of the crime- is just horrendous to me. 
I found an interesting Guardian map displaying capital punishment statistics worldwide in 2011, with Saudi Arabia coming in at 82+ for the year. I was quite shocked to see that Iran had 360+ and that China refused to release any figures but that they're estimated to be in the thousands (we do have to bear in mind that China has a massive population, but it is still amazing that they could refuse to partake in official statistics). I was quite proud to see that there is only one remaining country to abolish the death penalty in Europe (Belarus).
The thing about Saudi Arabia is that there are a disproportionate amount of immigrants from Asia and Africa being beheaded. The racism that we have seen here makes it only too easy to believe this. It's also possible for people to be pardoned of their crimes if they know the right people or have enough money, and thus evade execution.
Another country that we all know has the death penalty is the USA. I think it might be the only western country in fact, other than the aforementioned Belarus. Coming in at 43 deaths for the 2011 year, it is definitely not the worst but still well and truly getting involved. I think Saudi seems worse because they do it in the open, but I guess you could say at least they don't try to hide who they are.
I don't mean this to sound like an anti-America rant or anything, using the USA here is purely circumstantial here. It's just I've just been thinking this week about the shooting in Connecticut. Another school shooting? The thing that's crossed my mind is that with all of Saudi's faults, at least they don't have fucked up young people open firing on innocent children. On the other hand, they don't have freedom of speech or equal rights. I guess every country has its faults, although some perhaps more than others.

Not exactly a festive post, but hey you gotta write about what you gotta write about!
Happy holidays!!!

A rather long Ikea outing

I feel I must report to you about our weekend trip to Ikea. Everything here is such an ordeal- popping to the shops simply doesn't exist, and that's how a visit to Ikea ended up taking six whole hours. I kid you not, we set off at 4pm and finally arrived back home at 10. A combination of factors contributed to the length of time it took: the roads are so massive here that when we missed the exit it took fifteen minutes to get back on track; there were two prayer times while we inside, during which there was no one to ask for assistance and no way of paying; and we had to wait over an hour for our driver who kept lying in his almost non existent English about how long he was going to be.
But anyway, the silver lining is that during this almost whole day stuck in Ikea we got to see some hilarious sights. Saudis can be pretty entertaining when they want to be.

Let's do a countdown.

5. Children were rollerblading round the shop- it's sad but true that shopping centres are their playgrounds.
 
4. A woman got her abaya trapped in the wheels of her trolley.
 
3. A showroom set of shelves just wasn't quite right.

2. There was a full on scrap (primary school kids eat your heart out) in the car park between two groups of Saudis. We're not sure what they were fighting about-possibly parking spaces-but it got so heated that a woman in one group actually took off her sandals and threw them at a blokes head!

1. A man next to us tried for more than thirty minutes to get a package into his car that just was not going to fit. First he tried the boot, then the back seat. We were lucky enough to catch some of it on camera:

Eventually, after some guidance from an Ikea employee, the man had the genius idea of opening the package and putting the really quite small pieces of sofa comfortably into his car. 

Despite its moments of hilarity, I won't be rushing back to Ikea in a hurry. It's fair to say that every time I go out it ends in me having a mini internal crisis along the lines of "what the hell am I doing here?" and having to spend a good few days in the house, pretending I'm somewhere else. Sigh.