Teaching in Oman 2

My second day in Muskat, after a hearty breakfast at the Manaf Hotel, Kate and I were driven to the ESL center to meet the Director of the General English Program (GEP) at Al Sharkiya University, Dr. Ali Mansouri. He was jovial and appeared intelligent, an immigrant from Iraq. We discussed the university curriculum, Ibra, where we'd be living, what our jobs would be, then left for a fantastic Indian lunch. (One third of the country consists of Indians on work visas, so great Indian food is everywhere.) 

Kate and I and another 57-year-old at the meeting, Neil from Michigan, took a taxi to the souk and walked along the promenade. Neil seems a bit off. He's over six feet and he creeps alongside Kate and whispers in her ear, as if I weren't there. Later, every sentence was prefaced with “When I was in Russia...” or “When I was teaching in Russia...."  When he started speaking Russian, my eyes rolled back into my head. It wasn't just his fixation on Russia that was annoying, but each time a car honked, or a person yelled, or a kid screamed, or a door slammed, he would freeze and duck, his neck sinking down into his shoulders like a turtle, his face a mask of fear. And he didn't do it just that day, but every day for the next four months that I knew him.   

At the ESL center the following day, Kate and I met with some other teachers - Jackie, a loud, fast talker from South Africa and her husband Tom from Canada, Cynthia, and of course Neil, along with his Russian alter-ego. Sitting at the round table, we flogged the placement test with Dr. Mansouri from 10 o'clock to 3, going over and over the damned thing and we would have been there for another two hours if I had added my own two cents. Cynthia, our coordinator and evidently another authority, but on placement tests, prefaced all her sentences with "I’ve worked here before....,” or “I’ve done these before...." or "This is the way it's done.....” She’s about 42, dyed black hair, pale skin, chubby, with dark eyeliner on her bottom eye rim and I thought she was from the Middle East for the abaya, but she was from Florida. 

Of course, I love gossip and I learned later from Kate that Cynthia had worked with Jackie in Saudi Arabia. It didn't go well I suppose, because Jackie said she’d had a huge fight with Cynthia when they shared a room together in Saudi Arabia for five days and Cynthia locked Jackie in her room for 12 hours and the only way out was with the key that Cynthia had taken. Jackie cried that if she had known Cynthia was in Muskat, she would not have taken the job. 

When we finally got out of the meeting, Neil, a non-smoker, broke down and bought cigarettes because he "almost had a mental breakdown" reformatting the test. He can’t work with others in a small room talking (or shouting in Kate and Jackie’s case) and several times he turned beet red and grabbed his head as if to stop it from rolling off his shoulders, or sinking into his neck. How long will he last I wonder?

Kate, who I forgot to mention, prefaces every sentence with "When I was in Korea...."  now starts being more of a smart ass to Cynthia because she doesn't like her and the more I chuckle at Kate's antics, the more she’ll do it, just because she’s like that. She’s giving Cynthia a hard time. Just snarky little bits is all. “Don’t touch me please,” as Cynthia steers her towards the elevator and away from a man who is shouting in the lobby downstairs. When Cynthia tells her to “wait a minute, I’m not ready to go.” “Yes, I understand. We’re wa-a-a-aiting,” says Kate. How long will it be until these two clash?   

Cynthia was going to butt heads with Jackie, who had also been made a coordinator for the English program. While Jackie had been explaining something at the meeting, Cynthia cut her off saying “Well I’ve been here before" and "I’ve done this before" to the point Jackie ran off to the washroom to cry.   

Jackie, who has an enormous wobbly ass, has come to Oman from Saudia Arabia and had been there for five years, so it was another case of  “When I was in Saudia Arabia...” and “When I lived in Saudia Arabia...”  Korea, Russia, Saudia Arabia, Japan. Just for fun one day I started prefacing all my sentences with "When I was in Taiwan...," but nobody got it.

It was our final day at the ESL center in Muskat before we headed down to Ibra and the university. Another day of arguing, but more strident. Like telling Jackie to “Shut up!” as per Cynthia. Neil holding his head. Later, he complained to Cynthia that he thought we didn’t treat each other with enough respect. Kate wanted to push on, push on, "Let's go people!" to the point of accidentally erasing the text on Dr. Mansouri’s placement test paper. Jackie was angry at Mansouri because he didn't like the changes she had made to the test. She did all that work and he didn’t like it?  She ran off sobbing. Inshallah, (God willing) things will get better. 

Late that afternoon, I was chatting with Cynthia and Kate in my room about travel adventures when Neil came in, said he was feeling all “empty inside” because he missed his drinking friends in Russia. I brought up alcohol to Neil and he asked me “do you miss it”? and I turned around and said “I’m an alcoholic” and chuckled. Kate and I believe that while in Russia (whose national sport is alcoholism according to Neil) he fell into the booze and was probably here to dial his drinking down. He was already back on the cigarettes, but to buy liquor in Oman, he has to get a permit.  

The next morning, I went down for breakfast and spotted Cynthia and Neil, both of whom whined ad nauseum about their vision of the test, which I frankly didn't give a damn about anymore. Cynthia cried that it wasn't finished and then started in on Jackie's incompetence to be a coordinator. I decided Cindy was off her nut so I would steer clear of her and that even with Kate I’d keep it to a dull roar, although every day we have a good chuckle over Neil, who was by this time virtually stalking her.  

Thanks be to God it's our last day at the ESL center. The day before I had typed the final draft of the placement tests and given them to Cynthia, but Cynthia had no copies of them because she thought I was going to make the copies until I told her I didn’t make them because I thought she would. Mansouri asked Cynthia to go make copies, but Cynthia got all hot under the collar as she left for the computer room. “Just be patient!” she said to him. “You must wait!” 

After a few minutes, I went into the computer room (because Mansouri asked me to) and asked if she needed help and she snapped at me. I said "You need to settle down.”  So now Mansouri wants further changes for Version 1 and Version 2 of the placement tests. Kate was trying to tell me about the changes, but I didn’t listen, just flapped my hands and told her to do what she wanted with them. Kate and I left while Cynthia and Jackie argued in the computer room. 

During our last meeting, Mansouri had said that Neil, Kate and I may have to go up to Al-Buraimi, an oasis city in northern Oman, and teach for a week at the University of Al-Buraimi and that we would leave in two days. Relieved at being finished with the ESL Center, Kate and I went out to the Intercontinental bar to celebrate, where she ditched me for some beefy South African and his pal. I hoped that she got back safely but I didn't keep my ears open.  

Cynthia called me the next morning asking about Kate and I said I didn’t know anything. She wanted me to knock on her door, wake her up, "See if she's there. Check if she's okay" and I refused because “I’m not her mother. I’m not responsible for what she does.”  “Well, I’m not either,” she replied. And then she went on about horny Omani men and how girls wind up in the desert raped and maybe even killed if they're not careful. Now everyone knows that Kate’s been a bad girl because Cynthia has called everyone asking about her. Later I asked Kate what was up and she said she got drunk and went back to the South African’s hotel with his sidekick where they went skinny-dipping. They flopped out on a big bed together. The fellas had to get up for an 8 o’clock flight to Dubai, which is when Kate came back here and went to bed. Hungover, she was slugging back the diet coke and chain-smoking. She has a fridge full of candy and diet cokes, which is probably why her skin is so awful. I told her we were headed for Al-Buraimi tomorrow. 

Downstairs, there was another kerfuffle at the front desk between Jackie and Cynthia, our two coordinators, over drivers, getting our checks, whether we were getting cash or checks and if we'd get to the bank in time. Their poisonous relationship is now infecting everyone. I whispered to Neil that I thought Cynthia had borderline disorder because of her behavior and the ongoing chaos she creates. He agreed. And then he told me he had been married twice, once to a nurse who had borderline and then to another with two teen-aged daughters. He's starting to pull rabbits out of the hat.  

"Well, you, me and Kate are headed to Buraimi tomorrow and they aren't coming. So that's good news."