Welcome to Nuttsville.

Welcome to Nuttsville!

As school comes to a close for another term I thought it might be a good time to document some of the interesting things that are part and parcel of teaching in the UAE.  Unfortunately I can't put photos of my girls in here as we are not allowed to take photos of them.

I'm proud to have survived for one and a half terms.  That doesn't seem like such a great achievement, but  anyone who has, or is, teaching in this neck-of-the-woods will totally appreciate the extent of this achievement.  I think I might be all right from here on.  Although I might just be swayed into being so positive because I've spent a week now finishing work by mid-day and the girls have not been coming to school, except to sit their exams!

That's pretty much how the term falls for us.  We begin with a hiss and a roar with the girls having forgotten anything they had learned previously about manners, respect and appropriate ways to behave.  So we teach it all over again.  Maybe that's a little unfair - some of them do manage to retain some of this from one term to the other; they're usually the girls from Egypt, Syria, Yemen...you get the picture.

So my day starts with entering the school building at 7.45am.  I head to sign in at the front desk.  The security guard (female) is lovely and we pass greetings; she with a little bit of broken English and me with minimal Arabic.  I'm usually, at this stage surrounded by abayas which are reaching over me, looking past me, pushing past me and occasionally stopping to reach out a hand to greet me.

I then head up to the other end of the school, upstairs, to our English room. I do this now with determination.  I used to move out of the way for the hordes of girls who saw right through me, but now, they move out of the way for me.  A few have bounced off me with my steely resolve, and now the word is out!

National Day outfits

We have moved to a nice room where we actually have a desk and a chair and a workspace for ourselves.  Six of us share this office.  I have to say the 5 other personalities in this room, and a few closeted in a similar office downstairs are what keep me doing this job.  Without these ladies I think I'd go nuts.  As we've come to know each other and be totally confused by each other we've begun to have many laughs.  I'm 'affectionately' known as the ESL student because the American and Canadian women I work with don't understand me half of the time.  Mind you, I don't understand them an awful lot either! I'm either pronouncing something incorrectly (according to them) or I'm using words they have no clue about.  I've given up on asking for twink or sellotape...

For the past two terms I've taught two classes, twice daily.  Next term I add another class for 28 lessons per week.  My classes are grade 10 girls; 14 and 15 year old girls who are probably the emotional and intellectual equivalents of an NZ year 7 or 8 student.  Some of them bring Barbie folders to class...you get my drift.  Having said that, exposure to the western world is having some impact; I saw a girl wearing a hoodie with Justin Beaver's face on it the other day!  So I teach 10/7 and 10/8.  The former are manageable on most occasions, the latter take all of my energy and all tricks in my teaching toolbox to keep managed.  They're both hard work, especially in the afternoons.

Our teaching day has 9 periods.  The girls just don't manage this long sitting in desks.  They are perfectly behaved for most Arabic teachers, and of course they save up their pent-up energy for the western teachers who are 'too nice' in their opinion.  That may be because we don't scream (mostly), don't threaten and don't seem to have the mana of our abaya-wearing counterparts.  "Miss Jacqui" is just lovely in comparison to their abla (Arabic teacher).  That makes it doubly difficult.  Teaching teenage girls a foreign language (English) while working really hard to earn any slither of respect they can muster, and getting them to jump through one assessment 'hoop' after another is nothing short of hard work. Am I teaching as I normally would?  No.  Easy answer.  Am I challenged and having to learn new stuff about teaching in an ESL environment? Definitely.

The difficulties of teaching here are numerous.  I'm only just beginning to get respect from the local teachers (some who teach a maximum of 20 hours per week; others much less).  Our paths rarely cross, except in the hallways, or while taking over a class after the bell has rung.  I did have the lovely pleasure of recently being invited to join a group of Emirati teachers in the cafeteria partaking in a grand spread of food.  Unfortunately I was walking to teach another class at the time.  They told me to forget the class and join them.  I of course went to class.  But, they left some for when I returned!

The problem is, of course, the fact that so much is lost in translation.  Many do not speak English well, and of course our Arabic is limited to simple words and phrases to get us by.  Everything is in Arabic; the notices over the intercom, the notices that come around for us to sign, the assemblies in the auditorium, the professional development sessions...it becomes incredibly frustrating to know what is going on and what our duties are when nothing is translated. Sometimes the tone of voice, the words spoken seem harsh and rude.  But I've learned over time that this is reflective of cultural differences as well as language barriers.  There are no words like 'please' and 'thank you' in Arabic; so our Emirati colleagues and the girls we teach are not used to using such words.  The girls have to constantly be reminded to add the 'magic word' when saying "Meez Jackeee I want to know my grades".

The classroom can be a madhouse at times.  I'm now at the point of being able to get a substantial part of the lesson with a settled, quiet group of girls.  Some however, will be looking out the window, others will be writing on their desks, some will  have their heads down because they are tired and thank goodness, some will be listening attentively and even participating.  The first 15 minutes of each lesson is dedicated to getting them inside the classroom, sitting at a desk and with their books ready.  The list of latecomers to class can far outnumber those who are on time!  The good new is, this term I've managed to get most of them to remain in their seats for most of the time.  Small successes!

Every lesson in this place throws up something different; something new.  We'll usually have at least a half dozen interruptions during the lesson.  No matter how many desks or chairs I put in front of the door to barricade it, I cannot seem to keep them out.  I'll be running an exam in the room and that is still not enough of a reason to keep some of the local teachers from pushing past me and announcing something of vital importance to the girls in Arabic.  I've had teachers come in and hand out certificates to girls for their subject.  I've had teachers come in to hand back work to the girls.  I've had teachers come in to berate me for using too much pinboard space for English in front of the girls!

Professionalism is not a word that exists in their vocabulary.  And it would seem the expectation is that I leave mine behind at Wellington Airport.

We sign that we'll do our duties; because the local teachers don't.  We sign in and out at the end of each day; because the local teachers are often missing in action.  We are told that we have to continue to teach our classes at the end of the term even though we've finished the curriculum; because the local teachers leave their rooms.  We are told to hand our lesson plans in at the beginning of each week; because some of the local teachers have never written one.

But in amongst all of this, there's actually some good stuff that happens too.  I've watched some of the Emirati teachers in action captivating their audiences.  Miss Layla, Miss Nadia and Miss Subha are nice to me.  I've managed to break-down Miss Niaima - one of the ruthless photocopy women at our school who now waves to me as I walk by her office.  Others, who I don't know the names of, smile and greet me with a solid handshake each day. One even told me she was concerned about me and my back.  The cleaners and the cafeteria ladies are welcoming and lovely.

And some of my girls love me.  They are performing well in their work and exams, and they constantly remind me how much they are learning from me.  I've watched a number of girls who had checked-out of learning last term now trying hard to do their best.  I've made small steps towards earning the respect of my students.

The highlight of this term?  Watching the girls present speeches about poet's they had studied this term.  All improved upon last term's performance.  One of my very special Egyptian girls presented a superb analysis of her poet and his poetry and then standing before me read this:

My angel teacher

Brightens my way

My angel teacher

Teach me everyday

She is so kind

She helps my mind

Her heart like snow   (interesting...)

As all of us know

Becoming white and white

She say please be quiet

help her to go there

Benefit you everywhere

Her brain likes a book

Always where you can look

She is very wise

She always rise

As the sun

That always shines

As brightly as a star

She don't make class as a war

Really she is my hero

She will not give you zero

If you do all your effort

She will be justice as a court

Your teacher is a ring

Carry her on your wing

Go North, South, East and West

You will not find better

Because Mrs Jacqui is the best.

(love Mirhan)

And so I clock out at 3pm after another hard day.  I'm not here to change the world at all.  I'm just here to earn enough dirhams to enable my family to travel to places they will never forget.  And maybe along the way I'll make a difference in just one child's life.