Everyday I went into work and sat and waited for something to happen. At first I tried asking if there was anything I could do, plan lessons, take over classes, or grade papers or anything, but everyone just shrugged. From what I could tell, everyone was more or less doing the same thing as me: nothing. Of course, every once in a while they would leave to go teach a lecture, but they were always back in an hour or so. This was kind of strange because when I asked about the teaching load, and how many classes everyone taught, they all insisted they were very busy. Still, we all spent a lot of time sitting in the office talking and drinking coffee, and I never saw them do anything but just sit around, playing on their phones or looking around.
About three of the ten women in the office seemed to speak some English, and at first I was really confused by this because I thought they were all English teachers. As it turns out, there were only three English teachers were in this office, the rest taught something related to dentistry or nursing or medicine. Apparently somewhere there was another office with other English teachers, but I never found it and no one ever offered to show it to me, or introduce me to the rest of the English department staff. I had a sneaking suspicion that they may not know themselves. One of the women spent at least an hour every morning straightening her hair. The funny thing about that was that her hair was beautiful all wavy and curly, and when she straightened it she looked so much more plain and dull. I hopped she was doing it more out of sheer boredom than any real belief that she was improving her looks.
The two part-time English Teachers got to leave everyday more or less by noon, but the full timers like me were all stuck in the office until 3pm everyday. I started bringing my laptop into work everyday and that wasn't so bad. It got even better when they came to give me the log in and password to the wireless internet. I spent most mornings checking email, practising Arabic, and sorting out all the files on my computer that I have collected over the years. Whenever I needed to stretch my legs I would walk over to Zaineb's office and ask if my housing was ready yet. "Not yet." was always her standard answer. As the days passed, my visions of exactly what they were doing to improve the place grew. My expectations had been low at first. I thought they would probably clean it, and that was all. On day two I thought they might be getting new furniture or something. By day three, a combination of being bored in the office, and the fact that hope springs eternal, had me picturing new paint on the walls and actual cabinets in the "kitchen/closet/hallway".
So when they told me the place was ready to move into on Thursday just before the weekend, I was feeling pretty excited. They took me to see it first and give it the okay before we went to get all my stuff from the hotel. I was disappointed to find out that "fixing" up the place meant that they had bought a refrigerator, a water dispenser and a "new" rug that came pre-stained so I wouldn't have to feel bad if I got I spilled anything on it. There was also a box with an assortment of random kitchen supplies. A new knife and cutting board, a few chipped mugs. One cracked pitcher, and a single fork inside a 12 pack of spoons. What I was going to do with 12 spoons and only one fork, I wasn't quiet sure.
I had more or less left everything in the suitcase during the two weeks that I was at the hotel, so packing up and moving to the new place was pretty easy. Of course, I did have the help of the hotel doorman and the taxi driver, so maybe I'm underestimating how difficult it was. I thought about not unpacking at my new place in case they didn't get my iqama by Tuesday. but part of me knew that even if they didn't have it, I would still have to fight to get the exit visa, so I wasn't going to be leaving any time soon.
I have to say that after a few hours of cleaning, and another few hours of re-arranging, and another hour or so of unpacking, it was starting to feel a little like home.
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