The college had delayed the start of training for us teachers by a week in part because there was no air conditioning in the building yet (and also because many teachers had still not arrived). Now that the college did have air conditioning, many of us were wishing it didn't.
There were certain rooms that were worse than others. I walked into one room and I had a sudden flashback of my days working in restaurants where they had a walk in refrigerator that you would occasionally have to brave to get lemons or something. In other rooms the noise made it sound like you were standing next to a jet engine. Some unlucky rooms had both conditions at once. As the week wore on, more and more rooms became "air conditioning overactive" it was like the system was slowly waking up, and coming to life with a vengeance.
As teachers, we developed a variety of strategies to handle the cold. We opened the windows, which worked ok in the afternoon when the sun came in, but not so well in the morning when they were in shadow. We took the class outside at least once every class period, just so we could all warm up. We dressed in layers and encouraged the girls to do the same. Still, it just kept getting colder. The vice principal insisted that this was because we were opening the windows, which caused the central thermostat to register a higher temperature, and therefore kick in more often. We didn't buy this for two reasons. One, the reason we were given for the air conditioning not working properly was that they had not yet set up any thermostat, and that it was a centralized system at the moment that could either be off or on and that was it, no middle ground. They promised that they would come in and instal thermostats soon. The second reason we didn't buy it was that if there was some centrally located thermostat, it was somewhere in the middle of the building, not in the classrooms, so if we had the windows open, but the door shut to the hallway, the temperature in the hallway, and therefore in the rest of the building wouldn't be affected. Still, they insisted we keep them, if not completely closed, than open no more than three inches. After a while, It became a game for us. The teacher whose room was at the end of the hallway had a lookout, and because she had one of those incredibly loud whistles I've always been jealous of, she would give the signal whistle whenever the vice principal was coming through, and the girls would rush to slide the windows closed. It wasn't a perfect system, but it usually worked.
I had a few additional tricks up my sleeve, or sleeves, since by this time I was consistently wearing at least three layers. I wore long underwear, and two sweaters. I even broke out my winter coat. We are allowed to take off our Hijab's when teaching, but I would leave it on to keep my ears warm. I instituted "exercise breaks" where we would do jumping jacks or some other activity for a few minutes between activities to try to bring up our body temperatures. I started planning group work that could take place outside. Eventually, I started teaching the whole class period outside in this enclosed hexagonal area in the lobby of the administrative building. It was technically outside, but was also completely enclosed and only open in the ceiling, so we weren't disturbed by other students walking by the way we were in the courtyard. It had steps and benches the students could use as chairs, and the large windows doubled as dry erase boards so it was easy to carry on the lesson. This worked well for about a day and a half, until the vice principal came around and told me I had to stay in my classroom, and that if I had to go outside for a few minutes, I could have them stand in the courtyard. She told me they knew there was a problem with the AC and they were going to fix it and I didn't need to camp outside the administrative offices to remind them. I explained that I wasn't having class there to remind them of anything, I was having it there simply because it was the best solution I had found so far to the cold. I tried to explain how the enclosed space was ideal because there were no distractions and gave the girls a place to sit, and me a place to write, but she didn't let me finish. She insisted on marching my students and I back to our classroom (to make sure none of them strayed off to the cafeteria on their way back to class). The next day, I saw another teacher had stolen my idea and was using the same space. I would have to warn her on the bus that evening not to let the vice principal catch her in there.
So, back to the meatlocker, the girls and I bundled up and did our best to carry on. One of the teachers had bought a space heater from the mall, and I decide that this weekend, I would do the same. And maybe look for some gloves and a beanie cap while I was at it.
Showing posts with label air conditioning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label air conditioning. Show all posts
Monday, September 15, 2014
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Sunday at Work
On Thursday, I finally met Gemma, the HR woman I had been coordinating with for help with transferring my visa. I told her that I had my passport with me now, and asked what progress was being made on transferring my visa. She didn't seem to know. I asked if I should be doing anything, or if I should just wait and let them handle it. She told me I should probably go to my old company and try to get the final exit. I was a little surprised and reminded her that before she had advised me to just get the passport back and they would handle the rest. She said, well, it's best if you can get the exit visa.
I knew that next week we would have orientation week for the students, and that we wouldn't actually start classes until the following week, so If I was going to get this done, it would have to be next week or never. I figured I would try on Sunday to call my old company and attempt to get answers without having to miss any work. If I didn't get any help that way (which was very likely) I would go in person. Better to miss orientation than actual classes.
So on Sunday, I went to work as usual. First thing in the morning we were showed up to our staff rooms. Our team was on the third floor. There was furniture in the room. Bookshelves lined the walls, but stood about a foot away from them. I assumed it was because they hadn't plugged anything in yet. We all had desks that were arranged in rows with one teacher desk up front. It felt like a classroom, just with bigger desks. The chairs were fancy looking, with a very sleek modern design and touches of neon green and purple. I figured they might be ergonomic or something, but when we all sat down in them to try them out, they were anything but comfortable. We all sat for a moment trying to adjust them and taking in the space. Well, I said, guess it won't matter much if they are comfortable. Not like we will be spending much time here anyway, since we only have 40 minutes of planning a day. Everyone chuckled and nodded in agreement and we wondered back downstairs to await the training they had planned for us that day.
I was anxiously watching the clock waiting for 9am to roll around so that I could call the office and see what I could find out. Finally, and frustratingly at the same time, it was 9am and our 8 am presenter arrived. Luckily, they needed to set up a tiny portable projector, so I had enough time to step out and call the office. I was not surprised when no one answered.
For reasons no one really understood, they set the projector up in the room with the loudest and coldest air conditioning on the entire floor. We all sat teeth chattering while the man in charge of curriculum development gave a powerpoint that more or less took us through the whole theory of standards based curriculum. He dropped so many names of renowned educational theorists that I was worried we would need an industrial size broom to sweep them all up. I kept waiting for the part where he would tell us why it all mattered specifically to us. I was waiting to hear practical things, like, what books we would use, or what standards we would go by. Instead, we got more theory, and a song about No Child Left Behind, which was strange not only because it was irrelevant to Saudi, but also because there were only 3 Americans in the room, so the other 24 teachers were more or less lost during the whole thing.. Meanwhile, it was getting colder and colder in the room. I'm convinced that in a time lapse photo of the training, you would see sweaters being put on, scarfs pulled over ears and chairs moving slowly together so that we could share in each others body heat. We opened the windows to try to feel the heat from the sun, but even the Saudi heat wasn't enough to penetrate the arctic tundra being created by this loud AC. Eventually, I actually crawled up into the window to sit halfway outside. My fingers and lips had actually turned blue. Finally, at the end of his two-hour tour of educational theory, we were allowed to ask questions. As much as we all wanted real answers about what exactly we were going to teach starting next week, and how much progress we would have to make with these students, I couldn't stand being in the room any longer. I figured I would ask the other teachers to fill me in on his answers later, someplace warmer.
I also took the opportunity to call my old company again. This time, someone answered, but he didn't know what was happening with the iqama so he told me he would ask someone else and then call me back. So I went back in, and thankfully, they had decided to switch rooms for the second presentation. This guy was going to talk to us about the project based learning curriculum. The girls would be getting about 6 hours of language class every day, which would be divided into three classes. First they would do General English, then they would do English for Academic Purposes, then they would do project based learning. This guy at least had obviously been in a classroom in the Middle East, which is more than I can say about anyone else I had met from the company so far. The trouble was, he had only been in a men's classroom. He talked a lot about why project based learning was useful and important, which, as teachers, we all already knew. What he conveniently left out were any details about which projects they were going to have us do, and in what time frames they were going to do it. He kept saying it was all on the company shared drive and we could look at it later. During the Q&A, he mentioned a few examples of what we would do, for example, they would make a virtual tour of the college for next years prospective students. When we pointed out that while that would be great for men, Saudi women can't be photographed, video taped, or, in some cases of very conservative parents, even have their voice recorded.
Sometime in the middle of this discussion about what women could and couldn't do and how that would affect the kinds of projects we would be doing, my phone rang. I quickly ran out of the room to take it, knowing it would be my old company and the chances of connecting with them again if I didn't take the call were slim. To be more accurate, I sort of shuffled out. See, the thing is, I had bought a new pair of shoes for 5 SAR or about $1.50, at the hyperpanda the day before. They were kids shoes, and while they fit just fine, like all new shoes, they needed breaking in. Also, I hadn't warn socks. So I was developing blisters. I had taken my feet out of the shoes during the lecture to give them a little time away from the chafing and just had my feet resting on top of them, which obviously mashed down the shoes. When the phone rang, I didn't want to take the time to re-insert my feet into the now crushed shoe, so I just sort of shuffled out, and then mid-way across the room, I lost one of the shoes and had to go back for it. In retrospect, it would have probably been less disturbing to take the time to put the shoes on properly, but live and learn. To be honest, the presentation needed a little comic relief.
The answer I got on the phone was not really an answer. I basically needed to come to Riyadh again, since I still had my passport and they actually couldn't issue the iqama without it, so I was stuck. I would have to go to Riyadh again, and chances are, I would be there all week. I was sorry that I would miss out on the orientation week, but thankful in a way that I wouldn't be around to deal with all the last minute issues of trying to get the place open, for instance, still not having any chairs in the classrooms, no whiteboards or projectors yet, and having to develop a curriculum from scratch among other things. I hoped that by the time I got back, all of that would be sorted out.
I knew that next week we would have orientation week for the students, and that we wouldn't actually start classes until the following week, so If I was going to get this done, it would have to be next week or never. I figured I would try on Sunday to call my old company and attempt to get answers without having to miss any work. If I didn't get any help that way (which was very likely) I would go in person. Better to miss orientation than actual classes.
So on Sunday, I went to work as usual. First thing in the morning we were showed up to our staff rooms. Our team was on the third floor. There was furniture in the room. Bookshelves lined the walls, but stood about a foot away from them. I assumed it was because they hadn't plugged anything in yet. We all had desks that were arranged in rows with one teacher desk up front. It felt like a classroom, just with bigger desks. The chairs were fancy looking, with a very sleek modern design and touches of neon green and purple. I figured they might be ergonomic or something, but when we all sat down in them to try them out, they were anything but comfortable. We all sat for a moment trying to adjust them and taking in the space. Well, I said, guess it won't matter much if they are comfortable. Not like we will be spending much time here anyway, since we only have 40 minutes of planning a day. Everyone chuckled and nodded in agreement and we wondered back downstairs to await the training they had planned for us that day.
I was anxiously watching the clock waiting for 9am to roll around so that I could call the office and see what I could find out. Finally, and frustratingly at the same time, it was 9am and our 8 am presenter arrived. Luckily, they needed to set up a tiny portable projector, so I had enough time to step out and call the office. I was not surprised when no one answered.
For reasons no one really understood, they set the projector up in the room with the loudest and coldest air conditioning on the entire floor. We all sat teeth chattering while the man in charge of curriculum development gave a powerpoint that more or less took us through the whole theory of standards based curriculum. He dropped so many names of renowned educational theorists that I was worried we would need an industrial size broom to sweep them all up. I kept waiting for the part where he would tell us why it all mattered specifically to us. I was waiting to hear practical things, like, what books we would use, or what standards we would go by. Instead, we got more theory, and a song about No Child Left Behind, which was strange not only because it was irrelevant to Saudi, but also because there were only 3 Americans in the room, so the other 24 teachers were more or less lost during the whole thing.. Meanwhile, it was getting colder and colder in the room. I'm convinced that in a time lapse photo of the training, you would see sweaters being put on, scarfs pulled over ears and chairs moving slowly together so that we could share in each others body heat. We opened the windows to try to feel the heat from the sun, but even the Saudi heat wasn't enough to penetrate the arctic tundra being created by this loud AC. Eventually, I actually crawled up into the window to sit halfway outside. My fingers and lips had actually turned blue. Finally, at the end of his two-hour tour of educational theory, we were allowed to ask questions. As much as we all wanted real answers about what exactly we were going to teach starting next week, and how much progress we would have to make with these students, I couldn't stand being in the room any longer. I figured I would ask the other teachers to fill me in on his answers later, someplace warmer.
I also took the opportunity to call my old company again. This time, someone answered, but he didn't know what was happening with the iqama so he told me he would ask someone else and then call me back. So I went back in, and thankfully, they had decided to switch rooms for the second presentation. This guy was going to talk to us about the project based learning curriculum. The girls would be getting about 6 hours of language class every day, which would be divided into three classes. First they would do General English, then they would do English for Academic Purposes, then they would do project based learning. This guy at least had obviously been in a classroom in the Middle East, which is more than I can say about anyone else I had met from the company so far. The trouble was, he had only been in a men's classroom. He talked a lot about why project based learning was useful and important, which, as teachers, we all already knew. What he conveniently left out were any details about which projects they were going to have us do, and in what time frames they were going to do it. He kept saying it was all on the company shared drive and we could look at it later. During the Q&A, he mentioned a few examples of what we would do, for example, they would make a virtual tour of the college for next years prospective students. When we pointed out that while that would be great for men, Saudi women can't be photographed, video taped, or, in some cases of very conservative parents, even have their voice recorded.
Sometime in the middle of this discussion about what women could and couldn't do and how that would affect the kinds of projects we would be doing, my phone rang. I quickly ran out of the room to take it, knowing it would be my old company and the chances of connecting with them again if I didn't take the call were slim. To be more accurate, I sort of shuffled out. See, the thing is, I had bought a new pair of shoes for 5 SAR or about $1.50, at the hyperpanda the day before. They were kids shoes, and while they fit just fine, like all new shoes, they needed breaking in. Also, I hadn't warn socks. So I was developing blisters. I had taken my feet out of the shoes during the lecture to give them a little time away from the chafing and just had my feet resting on top of them, which obviously mashed down the shoes. When the phone rang, I didn't want to take the time to re-insert my feet into the now crushed shoe, so I just sort of shuffled out, and then mid-way across the room, I lost one of the shoes and had to go back for it. In retrospect, it would have probably been less disturbing to take the time to put the shoes on properly, but live and learn. To be honest, the presentation needed a little comic relief.
The answer I got on the phone was not really an answer. I basically needed to come to Riyadh again, since I still had my passport and they actually couldn't issue the iqama without it, so I was stuck. I would have to go to Riyadh again, and chances are, I would be there all week. I was sorry that I would miss out on the orientation week, but thankful in a way that I wouldn't be around to deal with all the last minute issues of trying to get the place open, for instance, still not having any chairs in the classrooms, no whiteboards or projectors yet, and having to develop a curriculum from scratch among other things. I hoped that by the time I got back, all of that would be sorted out.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Extremes
Yesterday, Saudi Arabia was the hottest place on the planet, literally. We reached 117 degrees. Today, I proctored an exam in a room that felt like a walk in freezer. Students fingers and lips were turning blue, so half way through, we had everyone stand up and do jumping jacks just to help them warm up. Frustratingly, there are windows we could have opened to let in some warm air since we have no control over the air conditioning, but it was haram (not allowed, sinful) to open the windows. You see, the windows looked out over the men's side of the campus, and a man might have been able to look up two stories into the window and see one of the girls without her abaya or head covering. Not that any of them weren't covered, it was so cold everyone was bundled up tight. But the possibility alone means it's not possible. So the girls struggled through three hours of arctic temperatures, as if struggling through a 30 page statistics exam wasn't enough. Finally, at noon, they were released to freedom. We teachers, however, were left behind for no discernible reason other than someone somewhere up the chain of command decided to stick it to us.
Since all other personnel, cleaners, admin, every other department, and all the students can leave after the exams end at noon, they have been cutting off our air conditioning at noon as well. Apparently maintenance didn't get the memo that the English teachers need to stick around for another four hours and do nothing. I don't mind though. For me, it is sweet relief. Usually, when we get to school, everyone disrobes and takes off the abaya and hijab while we are inside the University. I, on the other hand, not only leave everything on, but add layers. I throw on a pair of long underwear under my skirt and a hoodie under my abaya just to stay warm. I even got in trouble for it one day when I happened to pass the boss in the hall on my way to a computer lab with some students. She asked me why I still had my abaya and hijab on, and I explained that I was cold. She told me to bring a sweater. I explained that I had one on, but was still cold, and since it was a hoodie, and not very professional looking, I was sure she would prefer me to wear the abaya over it. She told me to buy a nicer sweater, and before I could stop myself I told her I would love to, but since they haven't bothered to pay me yet, I didn't have any money to spend on a sweater. She did not say anything, but turned around and walked the other way.
No air conditioning means that I can take off my sweater and abaya and actually feel comfortable in the office. Not only that, It's a great self-esteem booster because I've gotten several comments from teachers and co-workers who are seeing me abaya free, many for the first time. "Oh, I had no idea you had such lovely long brown hair!" "Wow, is that a new skirt?" (One of the only two I own and wear everyday) "I've never seen you wear anything but black, that yellow shirt looks great!" "You look like you have lost a ton of weight." (yeah, about 5 pounds of clothing). But today, for the first time, by 3pm, it was too hot even for me. Usually I go outside to warm up. Today, I went outside to cool down. I sat in the shade in 117 degree weather because at least there was a slight breeze which made it feel cooler than inside our office. I'm starting to get used to such extreme swings, not only in temperature, but in every aspect of my life here.
This is a country built around extremes; the heat of the desert and the artificial cold of modern buildings, the insistence on carefully followed rules and precision in official exams and the make it up as you go attitude toward the curriculum the rest of the year, the complete physical isolation of the sexes and the frantic mixing of couples in cyberspace, the apparent wealth of Saudi oil and the royal family and the women and children going from car to car in traffic begging for money, the careful and elaborately public displays of religion, humility, and piety and the private displays of ostentatious wealth and excessive waste, the pull of tradition and the push of development and the modern world. It's a country that seems to be at once comfortable with, and tearing itself apart over, it's own contradictions.
I believe there is a place in the middle of all these extremes for the country to become the place it imagines itself to be . There is a chance for change and growth in this country. But true to form, I think it's going to happen both through slow and gradual efforts, and in a sudden explosion of profound change.
Since all other personnel, cleaners, admin, every other department, and all the students can leave after the exams end at noon, they have been cutting off our air conditioning at noon as well. Apparently maintenance didn't get the memo that the English teachers need to stick around for another four hours and do nothing. I don't mind though. For me, it is sweet relief. Usually, when we get to school, everyone disrobes and takes off the abaya and hijab while we are inside the University. I, on the other hand, not only leave everything on, but add layers. I throw on a pair of long underwear under my skirt and a hoodie under my abaya just to stay warm. I even got in trouble for it one day when I happened to pass the boss in the hall on my way to a computer lab with some students. She asked me why I still had my abaya and hijab on, and I explained that I was cold. She told me to bring a sweater. I explained that I had one on, but was still cold, and since it was a hoodie, and not very professional looking, I was sure she would prefer me to wear the abaya over it. She told me to buy a nicer sweater, and before I could stop myself I told her I would love to, but since they haven't bothered to pay me yet, I didn't have any money to spend on a sweater. She did not say anything, but turned around and walked the other way.
No air conditioning means that I can take off my sweater and abaya and actually feel comfortable in the office. Not only that, It's a great self-esteem booster because I've gotten several comments from teachers and co-workers who are seeing me abaya free, many for the first time. "Oh, I had no idea you had such lovely long brown hair!" "Wow, is that a new skirt?" (One of the only two I own and wear everyday) "I've never seen you wear anything but black, that yellow shirt looks great!" "You look like you have lost a ton of weight." (yeah, about 5 pounds of clothing). But today, for the first time, by 3pm, it was too hot even for me. Usually I go outside to warm up. Today, I went outside to cool down. I sat in the shade in 117 degree weather because at least there was a slight breeze which made it feel cooler than inside our office. I'm starting to get used to such extreme swings, not only in temperature, but in every aspect of my life here.
This is a country built around extremes; the heat of the desert and the artificial cold of modern buildings, the insistence on carefully followed rules and precision in official exams and the make it up as you go attitude toward the curriculum the rest of the year, the complete physical isolation of the sexes and the frantic mixing of couples in cyberspace, the apparent wealth of Saudi oil and the royal family and the women and children going from car to car in traffic begging for money, the careful and elaborately public displays of religion, humility, and piety and the private displays of ostentatious wealth and excessive waste, the pull of tradition and the push of development and the modern world. It's a country that seems to be at once comfortable with, and tearing itself apart over, it's own contradictions.
I believe there is a place in the middle of all these extremes for the country to become the place it imagines itself to be . There is a chance for change and growth in this country. But true to form, I think it's going to happen both through slow and gradual efforts, and in a sudden explosion of profound change.
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