"My Teacher"

Some years ago, I decided to work here in Saudi Arabia as a company trainer for Saudis. I made that decision partly because it pays better, and partly because this country intrigued me. I remember in my Geography class, I chose Saudi Arabia as my research topic and had vigorously defended the questions given me by my mentor and classmates.

I knew that coming to KSA at that time could cost me something. But I had to make a choice; this, despite dissuasions of my friends, relatives and colleagues.

From where I came from, Saudi Arabia was obviously not a friendly place to work. It seemed like people’s minds were stereotyped into believing that expatriates working in this country could end up being mistreated, or abused, or something. But as for me, I had other things in mind. The country just fascinated me. Besides, I thought, if all negative things they said were true, then why were people keep coming to this place?

The very first time I saw Saudis in person was when I disembarked from the plane. They were huge, bearded, and except for the police, all were in their national attire. The immigration and baggage check were long and meticulous and for a first a timer like me, it was like I was in the hit list.

The first day of meeting between me and my first-batch trainees was scary (or I thought it was). There were about twenty of them seated, with all eyes focused on me, all big guys and some, older than me.

“Good Morning! I am your new trainer...”

The class was silent and subdued. I didn’t let them notice I was kind of nervous and continued my self-introduction anyway. (Or maybe they did and nobody asked me any question.) Then I proceeded with giving them the floor to introduce themselves.

Later on, the mood became casual as one by one the students came in front to speak. Then exchange of questions and answers followed.

In that meeting, I began to learn something about my students – their personalities, jobs and positions, family status, what they like and not like to talk, a little of their customs and traditions, etc. I learned too that many of them hardly spoke English. And I had to exert an extra effort to connect. And in spite of our communication gap, it seemed that our thoughts reached across.

At one point, I even narrated how my family and friends had opposed my coming to Saudi Arabia of which, one student reacted, “Don’t worry, my teacher, here in Saudi Arabia, you are safe; we will protect you!” to the thunderous laugh of the class. Well, it made me more scared.

In our succeeding sessions, I gradually learned how to deal with my trainees. I wouldn’t say that my relationship with them was without troubles (and who has a trouble-free class, anyway?) but I became happy with them because they were generally cooperative and supportive. And the one thing I liked of them was how they addressed me: “My Teacher”.

“Have you seen my teacher?” “Can you give this to my teacher?” “How are you, my teacher?” “Good morning, my teacher!” These were the common expressions heard from them.

I confess that in my whole professional career, nobody ever addressed me in the same way my students candidly say “My Teacher”. I was just called “Sir”, “Mr”, “Mr Mike”, or simply “Teacher”. “My Teacher” may sound to be just an ordinary address but to me, it made a difference – something I took to mean great respect, and pride. It was like I became an inalienable part of them – like their family (as in “my” brother, “my” father, “my” children, etc.).

For a teacher, no amount of money or favor surpasses being looked up to with great respect and pride. After all, teachers don’t necessarily teach for money; they teach for values and principles.

My students were thoughtful too. In the first winter season when temperature went down to about 3 centigrade and I had to teach the night shift group until 1:00 a.m., a student would offer me, “My teacher, please wait. I will bring you a hot tea and something to eat.” Sometimes, a student would bring Arabic food prepared by his family.

When I had problems at home, they would cheer me up, give advice. They would tell me also of the things to do and not to do in Saudi Arabia. They would share their ideas and stories. Whenever I would record a video for my family, everyone would just pop up in front of the cam and say their greetings. My family back home was so amused.

On their graduation, I was happy that they had made it. I couldn’t tell the extent of their happiness but on my part, it was like I just had accomplished a mission impossible. I was overwhelmed when a student made a speech and said, “… I would also like to thank from the bottom of my heart the man who spent a long time with us, answering questions and teaching us, for giving his best, his patience that sometimes he shouts just so we would listen (laugh, applause). He is ‘our’ teacher – Mr. Mike.”

On my first vacation, they all pitched in to give me a surprise – a beautiful desk clock for my family. Some gave me souvenir items too; some asked me to bring preserved Arabic sweets for my family and friends. I accepted their presents, but it was the thought I valued the most.

Way back home, my family, colleagues and friends were amazed to know my kind of experiences in Saudi Arabia. They were happy about me, and about the fulfilled dream to reach a place I could only previously find in books. On my part, I was just happy to see the other side of Saudi Arabia. Like any other places, it is not spared with having both the worse and the better things.

Now, I still am “the” teacher of the Saudis; and I am just happy with where I am – for now.