When in Rome...

With the girls now having decided to leave the school for the year and taken early study leave (heavy emphasis on the 'girls' having decided this) life at school is completely bearable!

Today for example, began with my arrival at my usual 7.45am to an almost-deserted school.  I cruised my uninhibited-by-students way to the English office.  I unpacked my computer, checked messages, had a quick look at rental car quotes for our summer holiday and greeted the other teachers as they arrived.  I cleaned off my desk, filed some papers, packed away student assignment work and then sat quietly (if you can believe that) wondering what to do next.

It didn't take me too long to decide..."The Holiday" featuring Jude Law and Kate Winslet.

And all this before 10am.

After a quick trip down to the office to have my fingerprints entered into a database (for next year so they can keep a track of me coming and going...) I was told I could leave.  At 11am.

This is what life will be for the next 4 weeks. Of course we'll have the odd exam next week to supervise and we will do some marking of these exams (including a couple of nights for which we are paid a pittance but which are compulsory) and maybe a fix of professional development, but overall life will be pretty cruisey in comparison to most other weeks.  I've finished my marking, all the grades are entered, and now I just have to relax into the holiday period.

We finish school on July 12.  It isn't quite a year for me, as I arrived in late September, so didn't start the year at the same time as the other teachers and students.  But it feels like a year.  It feels like it has been hard slog with a few moments of fun and small successes.  As I've gotten to know my colleagues I've come to enjoy their company more and more.  We have lots of laughs together.  You have to in this environment or you'll be walking down the road in a daze shouting and mumbling like a madwoman and not making a great deal of sense.  They are what keep me sane.

So I'm treating this brief reprieve as a well-deserved break from all of the hard stuff.

Yesterday we had the grade 12 graduation.  This is a 'big' event in the school calender.  As always I bought my own preconceived notions and experiences of what is a typical end-of-year celebration of academic success to the event.  I thought I knew what to expect.

I should have known better.

Of course, as is consistent with my experiences in the UAE, this was an event like nothing I've ever witnessed before!  Gone were the blue khandoras and black abayas and shailas.  The gowns were beyond glamorous.  The make-up was a face-mask.  The sequins and glitter were beyond comparison.  The shoe heels were toe-curling.  The flower arrangements, balloon archway and golden carafes of tea and chocolate were in abundance.  The time, energy, money and planning that had gone into presenting these beautifully coiffed young women was significant.

The fact that the Sheikha (one of the Sheik's daughters) attended and the level of security surrounding her  helped to boost the significance of this event.  All but one of the external doors were locked (yes, I know, mum) and 200 cellphones were taken from attendees upon their entrance.  Upon entering the auditorium you couldn't be blamed for thinking you were in a totally different world; nay dimension!

Yet, the paradox of this country played out yet again during this graduation ceremony.  This lavish affair was surprisingly accompanied by what I considered some rather unusual behaviours/traditions/activities (not sure which is the best word choice here!) by western (or at least NZ) standards.

1. At least 50 girls that I saw arrived very late to the proceedings.  They got their cap and gown on and then headed to join their peers in the auditorium during the celebration.  No worries.  No need to be on time.
2. Whilst an effort to take cell phones off parents was made, during the proceedings I witnessed many mothers chatting on their cellphones and even more local teachers chatting and messaging on theirs while the performances and speeches were being made.
3. There was not one moment in the almost 2 hours (it went on for longer) that I saw where the audience were quiet.  There seemed to be no compulsion to hold one's tongue at all during the event.
4. Tea and chocolates and petit-fours were brought around to the audience throughout the proceedings.  No problem with eating.
5. No males were allowed.  No fathers, no brothers to share in the celebrations...

So this all got me thinking.  

My initial reaction to most things experienced this year has been to wonder why on earth things are done this way or that.  I've spent much time frustrated by what is different here and what I have considered to be ridiculous or silly.  I've even spent some time frustrated because of what I've seen to be disrespectful and bad mannered.

But as I'm coming to terms with a country that is so totally unpredictable and unreliable and inconsistent in its practices, I've also begun to realise that this is just the way things are done here.  Imagine one of these girls/women coming down to NZ with their preconceived notions about the way things are done.  What would they make of me?  Of my people?  Of the way that we do things?  Would they think the way we do things is dumb, or confusing or inconsistent?  Would they become frustrated with the way NZ people behave?

Probably.

And so as I was standing there watching all of this going on around me, it dawned on me that I've just got to let go more of what I see as 'normal' or 'sensible'.  It just doesn't cut it here. This place has its own ways, its own traditions and its own 'normal'.   When the little dancing girls on the stage held out their alphabet signs that read "I love you mama" I realised that this was not just a celebration of the work these grade 12 girls had done during this year, but it was also a celebration of womanhood.  And womanhood in the UAE.  Their mothers are everything to many of these girls.  They are their role models and their supporters.  Many of these mothers are uneducated; they cannot read nor write in Arabic nor English.  These girls have what their mothers and grandmothers never had; they have educational and vocational opportunities that previous generations of women in the UAE were never entitled to.  In a place where life can be somewhat restrictive, the unreserved celebration of their educational endeavours was indeed something to rejoice with their mums.  

What a terrific celebration this was then.

The clapping, the cheering and the singly-excited mum who stood up in front of all others and shouted and clapped for her daughter and the performances on the stage was wonderful to behold.  The smiles on the girls faces and the pride they exuded while celebrating their final school day and graduation from high school surpassed any doubts about the importance of the event.  

So who cares whether there was talking and cellphone use.  Who cares that some were late.  They thoroughly enjoyed their day and their moment of high-school success. For me, well I just have to remind myself that things are not always silly or wrong because they're done differently to what I have experienced.  There are things that are going to continue to worry me; that's a given.   I need to exercise tolerance and model it if I'm to expect others to do the same for me.

I'm pleased that I've made inroads into relationships with the local teachers this year.  I'm pleased that I've made inroads in to gaining respect from the students I teach.  I'm pleased that I'm beginning to learn as much from the girls and their language/traditions as they are learning from me.  While this may never be an easy road for me to take, it is for now, one that is teaching me a great deal about myself as well as about others.  It is a great lesson in how far my flexibility, patience and tolerance can take me.

So, folks when in the desert...