Saudi Arabia
I am writing this, this beginning part at least, on a train hurtling across the great Hungarian plain. My coffee is splish sploshing on its saucer to my right, just out of range of my laptop. Everything I am is vibrating. The sun slants in from the right when an orange flappy curtain doesn’t object.
I feel hot. Hot is what I’ll have to get used to if I’m to live in Saudi Arabia next year. I’m waiting for an offer I’m told I should receive. From what I hear of Saudi bureaucracy, fast and efficient is rarely on the menu. We shall see. Shortly, so I’m told.
Saudi Arabia is an eccentric choice of country to work in. I’ve been gauging peoples reactions to this idea, partially because I remain susceptible to others’ approval of my actions, but also because I’m often clueless about what I want to do with my life. I sometimes look to others to somehow illuminate what I want to do in the ‘werld of werk’. This makes me the opposite of a ‘driven’ personality- what some might want to think of as a weak and waiflike figure. Float like a leaf in the wind is what I do, as a friend recently remarked, whilst referring to “Amercian Beauty”. In a Bratislavan pub the other year an Irishman said I seemed somehow disconnected from myself- perhaps I’m supposing like an unplugged lamp. Recently the mantra of the new age movement ‘find yourself’ has twice been directed at me by two separate women, in tones of tolerable but vaguely oppressive matronisation.
Of course these women are right –well, at least that I don’t have much of a self, if perhaps not that there is any ‘self’ out there waiting to be found. Women are often kind, even when sexually they don’t want you. It seems they can be very kind, full of counsel, when addressing that probably least attractive quality in a man- aimlessness (my forte). You don’t have to be an evolutionary psychologist to realize aimlessness in a male- sublime and enraptured as its aesthetic consequences might well be- is of very little value to their reproductive needs.
Is it only I who’ve noted the inverse relationship in women between their level of matronisation and their level of sexual interest in men. Women don’t want to sleep with men they mother, and don’t mother men they want to sleep with. For example, you can be a depressed, undirected wanderer, a head in the clouds loser, and yet have loads of female friends, any number of whom might want to help you; but not one of these will want to sleep with you. Well, that’s the way its seems to me, anyway (not that I’m a loser of course..oh, no!). Unless anyway, she is that rare thing “unusual”; a rare commodity in Slovakia I find.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking about the advantages and disadvantages of a move to Saudi Arabia. As you may have noticed, every advantage has a cloud, and every disadvantage a silver lining.
Disadvantages
I won’t even be able to talk to the local women, let alone be naughty with them (well, unless I want to commit suicide by way of execution (an interesting idea actually)).
I won’t be able to drink legally
I won't be able to go to the cinema.
Very little will be green.
It will be absurdly hot, a lot of the time.
Advantages
I get to earn about 16,000 pounds tax free per year in a country in which there is very little to spend money on. I get a free flat, joining, leaving and transport allowances, free health insurance, as well as 12 weeks paid holiday a year. Apparently most teachers spend only 5% of their income while in Saudi, so after the holidays I should be able to save about 12,000 pounds a year.
Not being easily able to drink (people brew their own beer, and black markets are everywhere) I shall be able to test whether I’m actually an alcoholic. I will probably also lose weight, which might make walking and generally existing inside my body a more agreeable affair.
I’ll experience what it feels like to live in a theocratic absolutist sex segregated dictatorship. Though my Public school was relatively liberal it will still be a bit like going back in time, and I’ve always had a soft spot for nostalgia.
The teaching will be undemanding and easy, and the job will not consume too much of my time. This is good, given the fact that whilst I can tolerate language instruction as a profession I have little genuine enthusiasm for it.
Actually, I’ve basically decided to accept the job if I’m offered it. After all, I can escape after three months if necessary. On the other hand, I might forever remain and turn into a permanent sand and sun exile from western decadence and develop enthusiasms for sandcastles and camel spotting.
I feel hot. Hot is what I’ll have to get used to if I’m to live in Saudi Arabia next year. I’m waiting for an offer I’m told I should receive. From what I hear of Saudi bureaucracy, fast and efficient is rarely on the menu. We shall see. Shortly, so I’m told.
Saudi Arabia is an eccentric choice of country to work in. I’ve been gauging peoples reactions to this idea, partially because I remain susceptible to others’ approval of my actions, but also because I’m often clueless about what I want to do with my life. I sometimes look to others to somehow illuminate what I want to do in the ‘werld of werk’. This makes me the opposite of a ‘driven’ personality- what some might want to think of as a weak and waiflike figure. Float like a leaf in the wind is what I do, as a friend recently remarked, whilst referring to “Amercian Beauty”. In a Bratislavan pub the other year an Irishman said I seemed somehow disconnected from myself- perhaps I’m supposing like an unplugged lamp. Recently the mantra of the new age movement ‘find yourself’ has twice been directed at me by two separate women, in tones of tolerable but vaguely oppressive matronisation.
Of course these women are right –well, at least that I don’t have much of a self, if perhaps not that there is any ‘self’ out there waiting to be found. Women are often kind, even when sexually they don’t want you. It seems they can be very kind, full of counsel, when addressing that probably least attractive quality in a man- aimlessness (my forte). You don’t have to be an evolutionary psychologist to realize aimlessness in a male- sublime and enraptured as its aesthetic consequences might well be- is of very little value to their reproductive needs.
Is it only I who’ve noted the inverse relationship in women between their level of matronisation and their level of sexual interest in men. Women don’t want to sleep with men they mother, and don’t mother men they want to sleep with. For example, you can be a depressed, undirected wanderer, a head in the clouds loser, and yet have loads of female friends, any number of whom might want to help you; but not one of these will want to sleep with you. Well, that’s the way its seems to me, anyway (not that I’m a loser of course..oh, no!). Unless anyway, she is that rare thing “unusual”; a rare commodity in Slovakia I find.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking about the advantages and disadvantages of a move to Saudi Arabia. As you may have noticed, every advantage has a cloud, and every disadvantage a silver lining.
Disadvantages
I won’t even be able to talk to the local women, let alone be naughty with them (well, unless I want to commit suicide by way of execution (an interesting idea actually)).
I won’t be able to drink legally
I won't be able to go to the cinema.
Very little will be green.
It will be absurdly hot, a lot of the time.
Advantages
I get to earn about 16,000 pounds tax free per year in a country in which there is very little to spend money on. I get a free flat, joining, leaving and transport allowances, free health insurance, as well as 12 weeks paid holiday a year. Apparently most teachers spend only 5% of their income while in Saudi, so after the holidays I should be able to save about 12,000 pounds a year.
Not being easily able to drink (people brew their own beer, and black markets are everywhere) I shall be able to test whether I’m actually an alcoholic. I will probably also lose weight, which might make walking and generally existing inside my body a more agreeable affair.
I’ll experience what it feels like to live in a theocratic absolutist sex segregated dictatorship. Though my Public school was relatively liberal it will still be a bit like going back in time, and I’ve always had a soft spot for nostalgia.
The teaching will be undemanding and easy, and the job will not consume too much of my time. This is good, given the fact that whilst I can tolerate language instruction as a profession I have little genuine enthusiasm for it.
Actually, I’ve basically decided to accept the job if I’m offered it. After all, I can escape after three months if necessary. On the other hand, I might forever remain and turn into a permanent sand and sun exile from western decadence and develop enthusiasms for sandcastles and camel spotting.
1 comment:
i think women also feel threatened by an intelligent man who hasn't turned his talents to making money: they can't understand it, because money & status are all they know. Most women, anyway. So they have to harangue you - i've had numerous women really quite angrily exhort me to apply for permanent jobs, and refuse to accept that being rejected for 250 in 2 years is enough. They then shriek, "Oh, so you've given up!" as if ceasing to try and knock a wall over using your head is a bad thing.
Post a Comment