MY SINTILATING WEEKEND
Doranna wants to know about my weekend. The weekend in your terms (Saturday and Sunday) was quite interesting. I went to the little gym to return some sad British male romance novel I’d borrowed and consumed in one evening. As I walked through the interior plaza that forms Paradise Villas some British man escaped from BBC central casting, fixed me with a horrible stare, one that comprised the fall of the western world and the general dilapidation of society, all my fault. I’d seen these folks before (Masteriece Theater?). Like well behaved children, they only speak when spoken to, so I plastered on a big Midwestern smile and said hello. Then carried on with my appointed mission. I had to wonder though what that old coot thought he was going to accomplish by trying to stare me down. Little did he know that I’d been trained by the best and it wasn’t going to be so easy to intimidate me with a look.
These people were gone when I came back to swim. I had the pool to myself. About halfway through my swim, a beefy white American showed up and then an even beefier black one. I swam, they watched. When I finished I met Brian from Florida and Joe from Virginia. Both are contractors, living in the complex. Brian has been here for more than two years and Joe arrived two months ago.
Brian said that he was burnt-out and needed to go home. He said Kuwait was boring and there was nothing to do here. I asked him if he read books. Neither of them do. Both he and Joe put in 18-hour days. We talked about the traffic, Internet access, what I am doing here and what they’re doing here. I know they are making beaucoup bucks advising the military. Brian discreetly excused himself and I had a chance to talk to the brother. Joe was a bit more upbeat, but mot much. We talked about the food in Kuwait. Joe said, “I bet you’re eating a lot better than I am, because you cook.” He said he grabbed a Subway sandwich at post (the embassy) and brought it home. I must have had a pained expression on my face. I did not want to be having this conversation. Next thing I knew he’d be asking for a home cooked meal, and I did not come halfway around the world to cook. So I excused myself saying that I had to wash my hair.
All of the embassy staff that I interact with take great pains to be positive. And in fact, Kuwait can be quite pleasant if you like to read and have some hobbies. It would be difficult to keep oneself amused depending only on what Kuwaiti society offers, particularly during Ramadan. You have to bring something to the table other than your appetite for consumption.
Sound like a great weekend so far? There’s more…
I have to confess that after my encounter with the Contractors I gave into my dark side. Here’s one of my thoughts: The Paradise Villa is an American owned company. The staff is Pilipino, most of them well educated. The maids clean the “villas” every day. The apartments are furnished but they have nary a broom, mop or a sponge. If I wanted unh, to keep tabs on someone I’d give him (or her) an apartment in this complex. Pretty nefarious, huh? But this passed after I made some vegetable broth and had a good night’s sleep. (Maybe I did come halfway ‘round the world to cook!)
Much of my life here involves a lot of waiting. Waiting for a mandoob (errand runner) to arrive, waiting for a taxi, or a new gas canister, or for the washing machine to be free. It’s always a good idea to have a book with you.
I’ve been visiting schools with Miriam, one of the Senior Supervisors. She picks me up in the morning and we go to two schools: one for the boys and one for the girls. Yesterday we visited two schools in a district called Al-Farwaniya. Typically, we spend 15 or 20 minutes with the principal. Miriam introduces me and describes my mission to the Principal. If the Principal speaks English, I complement the office and we talk about the students in the school. All of this goes on while the English Director is sent for. Then there are more introductions and the English Director describes the programs and some of the challenges and successes s/he has (had). The teacher whose class we’ll observe is alerted, then we walk across the hot, sunny courtyard to the classroom. I observed two classes primary today and yesterday I observed three elementary classes. The schools I’ve seen so far are clean and well run. The both the Omariya schools had beautiful colorful murals and student art work displayed. At the girl’s school I saw some youngsters preparing of a Ramadan pageant. (The pictures are coming!) They looked lovely, dressed in costumes of women’s clothes a hundred years ago.
The EFL staff is hard working and dedicated. Many of the teachers come from Syria, Lebanon, Egypt and Jordan. Some are Bedouin (native Kuwaitis) and they go into teaching at the behest of their fathers or husbands, who wish them to work in an all female environment. Some of them have no interest in teaching at all!
The public school system is in year two of a three-year trail of new books that are not working for them, and they are suffering. There is nothing I can do about the books, so when I meet with the teachers I ask them to tell me what I can do for them in terms of professional development and material development. It is not always easy to keep them on track. Like teachers everywhere, they like to complain. And in truth (the primary teachers) have a lot to complain about.
Yesterday at a boy’s school in Al-Farwaniya, I was asked the male teachers how I could help them. The department head responded, “I am not a letch but…” I told him I could help him intellectually, via staff development. It was a quick moment, one that Miriam didn’t catch on to ‘til it was over. I word my questions more carefully now.
The boy’s schools have a different feeling from the girl’s. There is a great deal of pent up energy and there are more discipline issues. I can’t say I was surprised to learn that the girl’s school lasts an hour and fifteen minutes longer than the boy’s school. What did Zora Neale Hurston write? “(Black) women are the mules of the world.” Speaking of which I’ve seen several black women, black as me or blacker…
So for the rest of Ramadan, my hours are approximately 9:30 to 1:30 give or take a half hour at the end of the day for traffic. While driving I bounce ideas off Miriam ask questions about Kuwait and Kuwaiti life and we talk about education, society, materialism, EFL and Ramadan. I am not fasting for Ramadan. I fasted one day, the day before it started and by the time I got home I pretty much collapsed into a heap. These days since I cannot eat or drink in public, it’s de-facto fasting. I’ve learned to eat a big breakfast a t 7a.m. and drink a lot of water before heading out. I won’t have anything to eat or drink until about 2 p.m. This hasn’t been a problem until the last two days. The temperature has hit 40 C and 41 C respectively. I arrive home panting.
One of the teachers at the Omariya’s Primary School (boy’s) presented me with a round, laminated Ramadan magazine that discusses the fast, losing weight during Ramadan, a song about Ramadan and a submission song that tells about the five pillars of Islam. (Been meaning to write about that!), then the magazine ends with a wish for a blessed Ramadan. The magazine is held together with a keychain with a lantern on it. When the base is twisted, a red light comes on. It is very nice. I was also given a decorative wicker, bicycle cart with another little booklet attached that describes the basics
of Ramadan. I shall have to find the right place to put it. The same teacher also said she’d invite me to a break the fast. Which should be interesting. We shall see!
These people were gone when I came back to swim. I had the pool to myself. About halfway through my swim, a beefy white American showed up and then an even beefier black one. I swam, they watched. When I finished I met Brian from Florida and Joe from Virginia. Both are contractors, living in the complex. Brian has been here for more than two years and Joe arrived two months ago.
Brian said that he was burnt-out and needed to go home. He said Kuwait was boring and there was nothing to do here. I asked him if he read books. Neither of them do. Both he and Joe put in 18-hour days. We talked about the traffic, Internet access, what I am doing here and what they’re doing here. I know they are making beaucoup bucks advising the military. Brian discreetly excused himself and I had a chance to talk to the brother. Joe was a bit more upbeat, but mot much. We talked about the food in Kuwait. Joe said, “I bet you’re eating a lot better than I am, because you cook.” He said he grabbed a Subway sandwich at post (the embassy) and brought it home. I must have had a pained expression on my face. I did not want to be having this conversation. Next thing I knew he’d be asking for a home cooked meal, and I did not come halfway around the world to cook. So I excused myself saying that I had to wash my hair.
All of the embassy staff that I interact with take great pains to be positive. And in fact, Kuwait can be quite pleasant if you like to read and have some hobbies. It would be difficult to keep oneself amused depending only on what Kuwaiti society offers, particularly during Ramadan. You have to bring something to the table other than your appetite for consumption.
Sound like a great weekend so far? There’s more…
I have to confess that after my encounter with the Contractors I gave into my dark side. Here’s one of my thoughts: The Paradise Villa is an American owned company. The staff is Pilipino, most of them well educated. The maids clean the “villas” every day. The apartments are furnished but they have nary a broom, mop or a sponge. If I wanted unh, to keep tabs on someone I’d give him (or her) an apartment in this complex. Pretty nefarious, huh? But this passed after I made some vegetable broth and had a good night’s sleep. (Maybe I did come halfway ‘round the world to cook!)
Much of my life here involves a lot of waiting. Waiting for a mandoob (errand runner) to arrive, waiting for a taxi, or a new gas canister, or for the washing machine to be free. It’s always a good idea to have a book with you.
I’ve been visiting schools with Miriam, one of the Senior Supervisors. She picks me up in the morning and we go to two schools: one for the boys and one for the girls. Yesterday we visited two schools in a district called Al-Farwaniya. Typically, we spend 15 or 20 minutes with the principal. Miriam introduces me and describes my mission to the Principal. If the Principal speaks English, I complement the office and we talk about the students in the school. All of this goes on while the English Director is sent for. Then there are more introductions and the English Director describes the programs and some of the challenges and successes s/he has (had). The teacher whose class we’ll observe is alerted, then we walk across the hot, sunny courtyard to the classroom. I observed two classes primary today and yesterday I observed three elementary classes. The schools I’ve seen so far are clean and well run. The both the Omariya schools had beautiful colorful murals and student art work displayed. At the girl’s school I saw some youngsters preparing of a Ramadan pageant. (The pictures are coming!) They looked lovely, dressed in costumes of women’s clothes a hundred years ago.
The EFL staff is hard working and dedicated. Many of the teachers come from Syria, Lebanon, Egypt and Jordan. Some are Bedouin (native Kuwaitis) and they go into teaching at the behest of their fathers or husbands, who wish them to work in an all female environment. Some of them have no interest in teaching at all!
The public school system is in year two of a three-year trail of new books that are not working for them, and they are suffering. There is nothing I can do about the books, so when I meet with the teachers I ask them to tell me what I can do for them in terms of professional development and material development. It is not always easy to keep them on track. Like teachers everywhere, they like to complain. And in truth (the primary teachers) have a lot to complain about.
Yesterday at a boy’s school in Al-Farwaniya, I was asked the male teachers how I could help them. The department head responded, “I am not a letch but…” I told him I could help him intellectually, via staff development. It was a quick moment, one that Miriam didn’t catch on to ‘til it was over. I word my questions more carefully now.
The boy’s schools have a different feeling from the girl’s. There is a great deal of pent up energy and there are more discipline issues. I can’t say I was surprised to learn that the girl’s school lasts an hour and fifteen minutes longer than the boy’s school. What did Zora Neale Hurston write? “(Black) women are the mules of the world.” Speaking of which I’ve seen several black women, black as me or blacker…
So for the rest of Ramadan, my hours are approximately 9:30 to 1:30 give or take a half hour at the end of the day for traffic. While driving I bounce ideas off Miriam ask questions about Kuwait and Kuwaiti life and we talk about education, society, materialism, EFL and Ramadan. I am not fasting for Ramadan. I fasted one day, the day before it started and by the time I got home I pretty much collapsed into a heap. These days since I cannot eat or drink in public, it’s de-facto fasting. I’ve learned to eat a big breakfast a t 7a.m. and drink a lot of water before heading out. I won’t have anything to eat or drink until about 2 p.m. This hasn’t been a problem until the last two days. The temperature has hit 40 C and 41 C respectively. I arrive home panting.
One of the teachers at the Omariya’s Primary School (boy’s) presented me with a round, laminated Ramadan magazine that discusses the fast, losing weight during Ramadan, a song about Ramadan and a submission song that tells about the five pillars of Islam. (Been meaning to write about that!), then the magazine ends with a wish for a blessed Ramadan. The magazine is held together with a keychain with a lantern on it. When the base is twisted, a red light comes on. It is very nice. I was also given a decorative wicker, bicycle cart with another little booklet attached that describes the basics
of Ramadan. I shall have to find the right place to put it. The same teacher also said she’d invite me to a break the fast. Which should be interesting. We shall see!
posted by Roja at 10:33 PM
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