Changes

We've not been told overtly, yet, but it appears from what was said at the meeting last Monday that all of our students, no matter what their level, are to begin teaching in a few weeks. "Group 2" are due to begin in three weeks time, and it's not clear whether they are to go through the motions of an examination course when the results are irrelevant and they can begin to pretend to teach in English whatever their level in the language.

HD said yesterday that we'll have a meeting on Sunday (when LM is back from his holiday) about "the changes, which you may like but probably won't".

We went to collect cheque-books this morning for our local bank accounts, and whilst waiting at the bank I got chatting with KST2 about this. Clearly, she knows a fair bit about budgets and accreditation. She said that when a project hits the budgetary buffers, and it appears this one has, then external exams will usually be the first casualty.

This is not what I've signed up for. I know from experience that if a teacher is responsible for marking important exams in this part of the world, he or she'll come under enormous and unfair pressure to pass people. What counts here is not ability but influence, and that influence is invisible to us unless someone who possesses it is thwarted. Brokeback is an example.

In other words, the whole rationale for the project is lost.

During an earlier contract out here, I got chatting to a student who desperately wanted to be elsewhere. As he was a graduate engineer, I suggested he could get a visa and work in countries that needed his skills, but he said that wasn't possible because HUDC University degrees were a joke even in the Arabic speaking world.

I had thought that we were here now to reverse that, to begin a process which would give this country's education system global meaningfulness. If we aren't, then we're just in the business of organising sham English classes in which learners and teachers get through the morning as painlessly as possible, and there's nothing more than a pretence of genuine language learning.

Students turn up at classes if they feel like it, and regard their foreign, infidel, powerless teachers with contempt. It's ok for the hacks who haunt the TEFL world, on the run from a failed marriage or a drink problem, but it's not for me.

There's not much point in speculating, I suppose, but as my elderly mother-in-law says, hope for the best but prepare for the worst. So this morning I've sent my CV off to several UK Universities for pre-sessional work (which carries the possibility of in-sessional teaching in the new academic year, too, if I'm lucky and reasonably diligent). And a job with the British Council in another part of "the region".

Another and more obvious change is that The Company will no longer pay for taxis from the Bungalows to the city for shopping. This is a fundamental change, as it was always understood that we are in an isolated spot and need taxis. I would go two or three times a week. Others went every day, twice on Fridays. It seems rather unfair on those of us who only went in for essentials.

The former students, now colleagues, seem cool towards me - with a couple of exceptions. This could be a result of Brokeback's self-serving propaganda campaign, or the natural result of the end of deference marked by the end of the teacher-student relationship, or more probably a subtle combination of the two. In any event, it doesn't make me feel any more comfortable here.
And as for HD! I really struggle to be civil to the little bastard. I lost my temper with him the other day when he came up to me as we were waiting on our first visit to the bank, so close that his pot belly was squashed up to my hip, and I could smell the toothpaste on his breath, and whispered that I should be careful carrying my camera everywhere, in case someone robbed me. "I'd like to see them try," I snarled, resenting this old-lady like advice from a man scared to drive here, who regards this safe and peaceful country with an imperialist's fear and loathing.

Speaking of driving. I've got a licence now, but can't drive because the UK bit of The Company can't agree the terms of indemnity with the local bit (under the auspices of Peter Lorre). So we've got a brand new company car parked up, its tyres rotting in the desert sun, I've got a driving licence in my wallet and a restless spirit, but I have to pay for taxis if I want to go beyond the corner shop.

All in all, it's not a happy time. I've not exactly begun to pack yet, but I am contemplating how many suitcases I'll need.