YOUR EMBASSY IS HERE TO HELP.
Um... come again?
OK, so you are teaching overseas, then suddenly it all goes
belly-up. The town where you worked has been reduced to flotsam by a tsunami.
The school where you worked now resides at the bottom of an earthquake fault. You
received a Dear John letter last week and you are now a jabbering wreck,
sliding uncontrollably into a meltdown. You’ve been horribly injured in a
traffic accident. You find yourself in a festering jail peopled by rats and
large sodomites with rotting teeth. Or all five at the same time.
What do you do? You ask your embassy for help, of course.
After all, that’s what embassies are for, isn’t it? Um… sorry to disappoint,
but no. Not any longer. The reason embassies exist today is to promote trade
between the host country and the home country. If a citizen should get himself
into strife, that’s his bad luck. Don’t expect us to do anything about it. Oh…
ok, we’ll notify your family and perhaps bring a bag of oranges to your
bedside, but apart from that, all the best, Chum.
You only need to look at your embassy’s website to learn
just what it is they’re not prepared to do for their citizens who find
themselves up sh*t creek without a paddle. The site will contain a long list of
things they won’t do for you. (They won’t even lend you a paddle.) But there is
one piece of good news. They’ll arrange your funeral for you if they can’t find
any of your family or friends to do it.
I’m speaking from bitter experience here. Some years ago I
was stabbed twice in the stomach and robbed of all my cash and belongings in
Bangkok. Not a pleasant experience. So here I am lying in hospital with plastic
tubes sprouting from every orifice, including a few orifices I didn’t have
before, and in walks the Embassy Guy. He’s not in the best of moods. There’s a
big embassy party tonight which he should be getting ready for, but instead
he’s here in this crummy, over-crowded hospital talking to me.
EMBASSY GUY:
Mmm… you’re in a spot of bother, aren’t you?
ME: Yeah,
dammit.
EG: Do you
have any money to pay for the hospital fees?
ME: No, I
was robbed, remember?
EG: No medical
insurance, no bank account, no hidden emergency funds?
ME: Nope.
EG: Mmm… I
don’t see where we can help in this case. The embassy is no longer authorized
to offer financial assistance to citizens in distress.
ME: Buggar
me! Does that mean I’ll have to stay in this hospital forever?
EG: There is
one thing we can do. Give me a list of family members and friends who are
likely to help out financially, and we’ll contact them.
So, the moral of my little tale is: Stay out of trouble
while working overseas. And if you can’t stay out of trouble, don’t rely too
much on your embassy for help.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
In my new book, EFL minus the B.S. (now available on
Amazon) I have touched on this theme, along with many others. In the book
you’ll find answers to these questions: How can I get an overseas
English-teaching job? Why in the hell would I want to get an overseas teaching
job? How can I survive that job once I’ve got it?
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