TEACHING IN A MOSLEM COUNTRY
Working
in a Moslem country requires the teacher to make a few mental adjustments. One
of the many interpretations of the word ‘Islam’ is ‘submission’. You’ll find
your students very passive; reluctant to ever contradict, argue, or criticize.
Say goodbye to the notion of holding classroom debates; once the first opinion
has been voiced, no-one would ever think of contradicting it. This general practice
of submissiveness can be a good thing – you seldom see arguments or fist-fights
break out in a Moslem country. (In my home country, you’ll see 10 or 12
fist-fights a night at around bar-closing time. In my 20-odd years in
Indonesia, I only remember ever seeing three punch-ups.)
Then
there’s Ramadan, the fasting month. For 30 days a year, around two billion
devout Moslems the world over observe Ramadan as one of the ‘Five Pillars of
Islam’. In that month, they don’t eat or drink between sunrise and sunset, nor
do they smoke, harbor negative thoughts, or have sex (or even think about
having it). One Indonesian Moslem (a doctor) told me that this period of self-restraint
was an invaluable boost to physical and mental health. “If you don’t observe
Ramadan, that’s like owning a new car and never trying out the brakes. You
don’t know whether the brakes, when you really need them, will work or not.”
At
Ramadan, Moslems rise early, an hour before sunrise, and gorge themselves on a huge
meal to tide them over the 12 hours’ of self-deprivation to follow. Around six
pm another huge meal is laid out, and people tune into their radios awaiting
the drumbeat that tells them it’s OK to eat and drink again. (Statistics reveal
that more food is eaten during Ramadan than at any other time of year.)
Some
years ago when I was living in Indonesia, I decided to try fasting for a day,
just for the experience. It was a long, long day. I didn’t miss the absence of
food so much, although my parched mouth was crying out for water by midday. No,
what made the day such a drag for me was the boredom. Our three meals per day serve to break the
day up, and provide us with welcome diversions to occupy our minds. Without those
breaks, you get twelve uninterrupted hours of boredom, lethargy, and
irritability. And, if you’re a smoker, nicotine-withdrawal symptoms too.
If
you’re teaching during Ramadan, steel yourself for a bunch of tired,
preoccupied students, and a very long break at around six in the evening when
your students break their fast.
Some
other considerations to keep in mind when you’re working among Islamic
believers. Don’t ever profess to being an atheist – that’ll put you among the
lowest of the low in the eyes of your Moslem students. Don’t discuss religion.
While that’s what dictates how your students live, work, and think, it isn’t
really open for discussion, especially not with a non-believing infidel such as
yourself.
Don’t
use your left hand to gesture, touch someone, hand over money, or anything
else. The left hand is unclean, and reserved for wiping the bum only. Don’t
contradict or question anyone’s opinion. Don’t mention stuff like sex before
marriage. (The Moslem male hankers after it, and has probably secretly savored
it in a local brothel or two, but that’s not something to be talked about or
even acknowledged.)
I began
my two decades in Indonesia unreservedly admiring the Moslem faith for its culture
of tolerance, hospitality and passivity. I ended my time there disillusioned
with the religion, because of its dishonesty, duplicity, and hypocrisy. What
prompted such a turn-around of opinion? Perhaps the countless instances of
doors left to swing back in my face, the small-mindedness, the bald-faced lying,
and the all-pervailing dishonesty one faces daily. Certainly because of my
experience of Islamic courts as they dealt with my divorce hearings. (“Tell Mr
Don that if he were to see fit to pay for the Haj pilgrimage of the honorable chief
judge and his wife, then the court’s decision will certainly be in his favor.”)
No, I no longer have any patience for the religion or its practitioners.
Perhaps I’m wrong about the one true, hallowed religion. Perhaps, when I reach
the gates of paradise, I’ll find my promised seventy-two white-clad virgins
sporting chastity belts and fenced off in a high-walled compound. Insha’alah.
Time will tell.
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My new book, EFL minus the B.S. (now available on
Amazon) is my take on the English teaching game world-wide. From applying for a
job, living overseas, work permits, management and mismanagement, classroom
dynamics, teens’ and children’s classes, to sex and the single teacher; all are
examined with as much political correctness as a loud fart in a library.
