Living in Saudi Arabia (part 1)

"Before this year is over, you'll have seen a dead body."

This was the one of the first things Mike, my manager, told me on my first day as a professor at the University of Tabuk in Saudi Arabia. It was true, but not for the reasons you might suspect.

When I arrived at the airport, I was quickly led to a van and dropped off at a hotel. Then at 3am I was told I'd be getting on a flight to Tabuk to start my assignment. The compound was small (no more than thirty single-floor villas full of South Africans, Americans, Canadians, and Brits) but it was also luxurious in comparison to some of the other projects.

The next day I was oriented by Mike, "...and before this year is over, you'll have seen a dead body," he laughed.
He explained that the Saudi's weren't at all violent people, but horrifically careless drivers. Sure enough, halfway into the year, two students played chicken and both lost. Pavement splattered with blood and remains, a white Chevy truck and some beat up 90s sedan.

Every other car would look like this, not a single co-worker who rented a car left without having gotten into an accident (none fatal, thank God).

The students were something else. They ranged from hilarious Americano-styled gangsters to shy Bedouins who were obviously hiding their sexuality for fear of prosecution.

Their humor was also pretty on-the-nose. One student, Rakkan, wearing gucci shades while sitting in our beat up, sand filled and mosquito inhabited classroom, said
"These students, half of them are goat fuckers (kidding) the other half only come here because they're paid to come here."

And he was right. The students in Saudi are paid monthly to go to University. No, they weren't goat fuckers, and by and large they're INCREDIBLY hospitable people. He eventually gave me those gucci shades. I made the mistake of complementing them, which in Saudi culture means he should give them to me. I didn't know this, I also didn't know I was supposed to reciprocate the gift with something even nicer. Needless to say, by the years end Rakkan no longer gave me gifts and every successive interaction he seemed to be expecting something.

That first year we went to a local "Zoo" which consisted of a few exotic birds in an outside cage, a couple camels, and (believe it or not) dogs locked up in a mini enclosure.
Me, trying to fit in.

The last thing I'll tell you about for now is the management. Mafi Mushkela (no problem) is the mindset. The students aren't coming to class? Mafi mushkela. The ceiling is caving in? Mafi mushkela. The bathrooms are all but destroyed? Mafi mushkela.

We were forced to move offices about four times in one year...just because. We were made to come into work and sit in our offices all day, despite there being no school, just because. We were also not told our vacation dates until the week before, just because.

And this wasn't the fault of our Jordanian or Sudanese managers. It was the Saudi managers (who worked an average of three hours a day), who didn't feel like disseminating information that day...or the next.