Transfer to Arar

Returning from my Cyprus vacation (see my previous blog), I had a layover in Istanbul. While waiting for my flight, I received a WhatsApp from our HR department to inform me that I was transferred to Arar, a small town about 60km from the Iraqi border. I was told that our company had been contracted to teach preparatory year English at the Northern Border University. I was to pack as soon as I arrived back in Riyadh as I was to fly out again on the Sunday.

Accordingly, I packed up all my belongings into boxes and suitcases and by Saturday I was good to go. I kept out just a change of underwear, socks and trousers and shirt. The company bus was due to drive to Arar early on Sunday morning, so I loaded all my belongings onto the bus on Saturday night.

Arrangements tend to be fluid here, and upon inquiring about my flight and ticket, I was told that I would only be traveling on the Tuesday morning. That made life a bit awkward since I had no change of clothing or underwear. I had also packed up all my kitchen stuff so I couldn’t cook anything either. However, Uber Eats came to my rescue and together with take-aways and sandwiches I was able to survive.

Tuesday morning at 0300 my driver arrived to transport me to the airport and I set out on my new adventure.

I was met at Arar airport by our driver and taken directly to the university for my interview. After my interview, the manager of our English department (who speaks no English) sent me and another teacher to our accommodation so that we could settle in and get ourselves organized. Unfortunately, our driver did not yet know his way around Arar and after an hour he still hadn’t found our hotel (our temporary accommodation). 

We decided to stop for something to eat at a fast-food joint. Arar is basically a large village, and according to my till slip, I was customer number 3 for that day – things were apparently not hectically busy at the eatery.

We eventually found our way to the hotel. Initially the hotel intended to assign both of us to one room (non-native English speakers are expected to share rooms). After we, as native English speakers, had strenuously registered our objections, it seemed that the hotel had no available rooms. They were concerned that other teachers may arrive and that they would have no accommodation for them. Eventually, after about 30 minutes of loud discussion, things got sorted out and we were assigned separate rooms and we got ourselves sort of settled. 

For the rest of the week we attended at the university but nothing actually happened. One colleague (also a SAFFA) and I found an empty classroom and spent the days there reading and doing crosswords. We ate lunch in the canteen which served up pretty decent and tasty home-cooked food. There were also dozens of Sudanese teachers milling around the building, all hoping to get a teaching position at the university.

On Thursday, on the way home, the bus stopped to allow some teachers to do some shopping. After thirty minutes of sitting on the bus getting bored I thought “fuckit” and looked for an Uber. The gods were with me and an Uber was available. It turned out the driver spoke perfect English and had obtained his Master’s degree in Australia. Chatting on the way home, he mentioned the name of my company and said that he had heard that our company hadn’t landed the university teaching contract. This was more information than we had received from our company and we spent the weekend mulling over the implications.

The weekend I decided to explore the local mall and supermarket to get some provisions. There are no cooking facilities in the hotel but I had my microwave with me, so I was hoping for some microwaveable meals. When I accessed the Uber app I noticed that there were very few Ubers in town, but I was able to get one and off I went to the local mall.

When I was ready to go home again, I called up the Uber app which apologized and said that currently there were no Ubers available. This was a problem as I was several kilometers from home, in flip-flops and with an outside temperature of around 40°C. I kept trying to find an Uber but after about 30 minutes I admitted defeat. I downloaded the Careem app and the gods smiled on me. One car was available. The car was a bit of a heap and the driver kept talking to me in Arabic and asking the way and touching me, but eventually I got home.

Sunday morning, when our driver was fifteen minutes late to take us to the university, I sent a WhatsApp enquiry to find out what was going on. I got a message back: “Did Mr. xxx not inform you?” (Mr. xxx being our non-English-speaking manager). The answer was no, Mr. xxx had informed nobody that no teachers were required to attend at the university that day So now we again sit and wonder… are we staying in Arar, will we return to Riyadh, will we be posted elsewhere? Communication is somewhat rare commodity within our company.