Sun day

You walk out of your air-conditioned house and you're greeted by a wall of heat. Anytime of day or night. It's currently 11pm and it's 40 degrees. I've just played football, I felt like a pregnant lady who hadn't slept for a week running round chasing Olympic athletes. In reality I played a gentle game of football with barefoot Saudi teenagers. I thought I had acclimatized! The weather report says it was 46 degrees today, I think it might have been hotter. They have a rule here that if it reaches 50 degrees celcius, construction workers don't have to work (like doing manual labour in 49 degrees isn't dangerous), and I've heard to get round this they doctor the weather reports to say it's a couple of degrees cooler than it actually is. Sweaty rumours.

Eck: "You know when you walk past an open door in England, in the winter, and you get a draft of cold air? It's the opposite here, when you walk past an open door it's like walking past an oven"

The swimming pool has become a close Allie of ours. We treat it well, clean it thoroughly, make sure it's always nice and full, and spend a lot of time in it. Another cactus in our desert is the TMS cricket coverage of England vs India, blasting out of the speakers. Whoever knew Stuart Broad, Henry Blofeld, Geoff Boycott and a hole full of water could bring such happiness. Ramadan, I'm ready for you.

Verdade

Supplying that knowledge

Since I've got back to the sandy paradise that is Sakaka, Al Jouf, Saudi Arabia, I've been fortunate enough to fulfill the challenging role of supply (substitute) teacher. Everyone already had their classes by the time I returned from my European break, and alas there were none left for me to take, so anytime someone is ill I fill in for them. So far I've taught a grand total of three classes, spanning a back-breaking four hours. Believe it or not, despite this grueling Bangladeshi-sweat-shop-esque schedule, I've managed to use my free time to advance my Brazilian Portuguese. So to celebrate this, here's a classic from my boy Jorge Ben Jor, meu cantor favorito do Brasil. Enjoy x

You only do two days

Today I taught for the first time in about two months. Slave labour. The Al Jouf University summer school has a ridiculously easy workload, but it’s a lot tougher than term time. The combination of the searing heat, combined with the even more oppressive rules inside the Kingdom, make it tricky at the best of times, but the thing that really saps your infidel spirit is the lack of company. During term time we play pool volleyball, have parties, and organise various other activities like the Al Jouf Olympics, open mic night, etc. During summer school, with the bulk of the sociable teachers having left or taken holiday, none of that happens. The positive side of this means I have more time on my hands to get something productive done, but the days certainly move a lot slower. Sitting with Eck the other day in the compound, chatting about the future and what we planned to do when we left Saudi, got me thinking about a piece of wisdom from The Wire’s Avon Barksdale, quoted whilst locked up in a Baltimore penitentiary:

“You only do two days. The day you go in. And the day you come out”

Damn straight. If ever there was a mentality I’d recommend for someone coming to work in Saudi it would be that. Obviously Avon didn’t have the luxury of meeting his girlfriend in Europe for a few weeks half way through his sentence; he probably didn’t have a private swimming pool next to his en-suite jail cell, and he probably didn’t get paid a tax-free salary to be there, but the comparison still stands.

On topic, there was tension at University today as two well-built, heavily bearded, and decidedly angry looking Saudi men marched into the school and asked to see a student. The preface to this was an alleged fight between two of the students, which resulted in one of the aforementioned students calling his brother, who happens to be a member of the religious police. I fear for the student who may incur this bearded stranger’s wrath, he certainly didn’t look like he was there for a cup of tea and a shisha. I don’t want to talk too much about the mutawa (religious police) for fear of being branded an infidel swine and having my hands chopped off, so I’ll leave that for another time.

It may not be the most exciting chapter of my life, but I see things here I wouldn't get the chance to anywhere else in the world, and I can guarantee that when I get out I'll appreciate the freedom more than ever. And after all, like Avon Barksdale, I'm only here for two days..

Finally, my thoughts go out to the people of Norway, and the family of Amy Winehouse. R.I.P

Five guys named Mohammed

I'm surrounded by them, so I'm posting this song in their honour. It reminds me of my childhood. My mum had the c.d, I didn't grow up in 1950's America. Enjoy, and if you like it check out Choo Choo Ch'boogie

Round 2

After a glorious month spent being a massive infidel in England and Sevilla, seeing exotic things like grass, trees and women driving, and tasting forbidden fruit like beer and bacon, I am back in the yellow wasteland they call Saudi Arabia. The two big beneficiaries of this will be my bank account and my blog; the hiatus is over and considering I finish work at 11:00am every day I'll have enough time on my hands to update it a lot more. I promise. 

Believe it or not the Royal Kingdom of Saudi Arabia hasn't changed much since I've been away, but it has got noticeably hotter. It's 8:00am at the moment and bloody boiling! The average temperature is about 43 degrees (110 degrees, for my American readers), and it gets up towards 50 sometimes. Too hot even for a black man like me. Thank God (Allah, for my Muslim readers) for swimming pools and air conditioning. 

Summer school in Al Jouf isn't as fun as term time; over half the teachers are on holiday and all of the good students have already passed. However, getting to finish before midday and get the bus home soon afterwards means we can try and do something productive for the rest of the day. What could be more productive than drinking joy juice and playing darts? A valid question, I’m sure you’ll agree. In my case, improving my Portuguese. An exciting opportunity has arisen in Brazil for when I return next February, and with Andre gone (the Brazilian/American guy who used to teach here) I’ll have less opportunities to practice, so I’ll try and study as hard as I can instead of getting sunburnt whilst drinking yeast.

I won’t start working for a few days because the mid-term exams start tomorrow, so I’ll be invigilating and generally looking busy, but I have had the chance to see some of the students again.

“Teacher Ben, you are back! Mashallah. England good? What are quiz answers?”

The students here may be lazy, but you can’t deny their friendliness or generosity. They gave me a round of applause when I came into Eck’s class earlier, which was nice of them, if a little embarrassing.

I’ll be posting photos and videos, as well as the occasional update on life in the Kingdom, and the football season doesn’t start for a month so you’ll be saved from my overblown football rants for the mean time.

It was great seeing friends, family and the girlfriend the past month, and to those of you I didn’t see I’m sure I will when I return, and I’ll leave you with this quote, once said by a wise young Brazilian woman, which couldn’t be more relevant when you need to be patient in your wait for greater things:

“The passing of time is like the clouds. When you stand there and watching them they seem to barely move, but look again and in the blink of an eye they are gone”

Until next time, fica com Deus. البلسمينة