The Waiting Game

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.

Accommodations

In some ways, I was in a hurry to sign the contract because I wouldn't start being paid until it was signed.  In other ways, I was in no hurry, since signing it effectively re-trapped me in the country.  One thing I knew for sure, I was definitely not going to sign until I had seen the accommodations.

The second day at work, they took me to see an apartment.  The driver picked me up in a van and we were off.  We made three u-turns and then he stopped in front of an apartment building.  Because of the way Saudi roads are constructed, it had taken us about 10 minutes to get there, but I could literally still see the college.  I figured it would take me about the same time to walk, since on foot, I wouldn't need to make so many u-turns.  Sitting in front of the building, he honked until a guy came out.  He had clearly been napping and he was wearing a thobe.  He asked me a question in Arabic and I shrugged and told him I didn't know.  He asked the driver something, who said something while pointing at me and pointing at the building.  Then  told me to get out and go with the man and he drove off.  Okay.... so I followed the man as he led me down the hall and opened the door to a two bedroom apartment.  It was big, and seemed even bigger because there was absolutely nothing in it.  I mean, nothing.  There was no bed, no couch, no tables, no chairs, there wasn't even a sink in the kitchen, there wasn't even any cabinets on the walls.  There were exposed wires everywhere where there used to be hot water heaters and air conditioning units, but other than one sad little cloth someone was using as a rug to wipe your feet on when you came in, there was absolutely nothing.  I looked into each room, all of them empty, and then looked at the man.  I wasn't sure what to do next.  Ok? he said.  Ok, I said, and walked outside.  I looked for the driver, but he wasn't there.  I stood for a minute trying to decide If I should start walking back to the college or if I should wait for the driver to come back.  Luckily, he pulled up just as I was making my mind up to walk.

He took me back to the college and I went to look for Dr. Salem, who had interviewed me, to tell him that there was nothing, absolutely nothing in the apartment.  He wasn't there, so I went upstairs to look for any other familiar face.  I saw Dr. Mohammed, who had also interviewed me, and I told him about the housing.  He took me to Zaineb, who was a lovely but very busy woman who seemed to be involved with HR somehow.  She told me I should make a list of everything that was missing from the house and they would provide it for me.  I told here there was nothing, literally nothing in the house.  She didn't seem to grasp the fullness of what I was saying until I started making the list.  Then she was like... Oh, nothing?  I nodded.  She asked me where the driver had taken me and I told her I didn't really know but it was very close by.  She walked me over to an impressive looking office with glass walls and told me that he was in charge of all the housing.  I greeted him and she said some things rapidly in Arabic.  He nodded and then called someone on the phone.  A nervous looking man in a suit came in.  They all talked for a moment and then Zaineb said that the driver must have taken me to the wrong place and could I please go with this other man to see the real place?

I breathed a sigh of relief but wasn't holding my breath that the new place would be any different.  So off we were again, making three or four u-turns.  At first I thought we were going to the same apartment building, but maybe a different room, but he past the first location and kept going.  I started making calculations in my head, if he turns here it will still be close enough to walk... still close, still close, hmm... getting further... yes, he is turning, must be close now... I think I could still walk, even now, and finally he parked in front of another building.  Good.  It was further than before, maybe a 15 or 20 minute walk, but it was till close.  He knocked at the building door and a small little Indian man opened the door.  He got some keys, and we got in the elevator.  We went up one whole floor and then got out.  I hoped he had chosen to take the elevator in deference to me and not because he actually didn't want to walk up one flight of stairs.

The kitchen / hallway

The Indian man unlocked a door labeled #7, which was curiously also the number of the door on the other side of the hallway.  We shuffled into a hallway type room.  We barely fit, to our right was a door to another room, to the left, behind the door was a skinny hallway with a sink and a bathroom off to the right.  To get to the sink you had to squeeze past a portable washing machine.  Straight ahead there was a cabinet blocking another door, and in front of that, a gas stove.

The living room corner

We quickly moved to the other room out of a shared sense of claustrophobia.  The other room was actually pretty big.  There was a table with a TV on it (still on) and in the corner behind the door was a small twin bed, and up against the bed were two wardrobes Someone had clearly tried to block it off to make it a separate bedroom.  In the other corner was a much larger king size bed, with a headboard of pink pleather, still wrapped in the plastic it came in.  In the middle was the piece de resistance.  A chaise lounge and two armchairs, upholstered in three different and completely unrelated colours of crushed velvet.  The whole place was clearly recently abandoned and had not been cleaned.  There was a certain smell to the place that made simultaneously hungry and nauseas at the same time, if that is even possible.

The bedroom corner

The funny thing was, as bad as the place seemed, I could already tell that it had potential. In my head I was already moving furniture around and getting things settled.  Funny how you do that.  The men were both looking at me and since I had seen it I gave a sort of nod and walked out.   The man who brought me said some things to the Indian man, which were probably something along the lines of clean this place up!  And we returned to the college.  The man brought me back to Zaineb who listened to what the man had to say and then told me that they would need a couple of days to fix it up.  They were going to put in a refrigerator and some other things, and asked me if it was ok. I told her that at least it had furniture, sort of.  She laughed and told me that hopefully by the end of the week I would be able to move in.  I thanked her and returned to Dr. Salem to sign the contract and hammer out a few other small details.

I have to say, as much as I wasn't really looking forward to living in my new place, since it was kind of a mess.  I was looking forward to being able to unpack and put all of my stuff away and have a place I could officially call mine.  After three weeks of uncertainty about where I was going and what I was doing, it would be nice to finally be settled.