Bad Ambassadors

Saturday Club

A couple of months into our time at the school, we were called into Ms Gerry's office. She was also English and the administration manager. Ms Gerry told us that Mrs Magda, the school director, wanted to talk to us about the school play. The previous year's volunteers, David and Dan, had produced a school performance of Macbeth, and it had been huge hit. There was an expectation that we would do one as well, and the students were forever asking us what we were going to do. Neither Ben nor I were especially keen to do one and had kind of hoped that if we fobbed it off for long enough, it would all just go away nicely. To add to our anxiety, we hadn't even spoken to Mrs Magda properly up until this point. Now she was probably going to press gang us in into doing one after all. I wanted to explain our thoughts to Ms Gerry so that she might be able to mediate for us. However, she was distracted the whole time by a yelping coming from outside. When Ben asked what the yelping was, she beckoned us over to the window where we could see a small puppy stranded by the roadside. People were just walking past it, ignoring its cries.

"I love this country," she said, "its people and its history, but if there's one thing that upsets me about it, it's the treatment of animals." Facing us, she said, "Its mum has deserted it, and no one will come along to look after it. There's no warden, nothing. It will just die."

A trace of sympathy weaved its way through my anxiety at the impending meeting. Eventually, a school secretary walked in to tell us that Mrs Magda would see us. As we left, Ms Gerry followed us out. She was going outside to give the puppy some water. It was a futile situation.

As we sat across from the school's director, she eyed us with the cold expression of an interrogator, and it occurred to me that I had never seen her smile once. I suspected that people didn't say no to Mrs Magda.

"I want to know what you are planning to do for the school play," she demanded.

In that moment, I wished that I'd thought of one as I feared that she might have had one already chosen for us. I couldn't even bring myself to glance across at Ben for moral support. Then she started coughing, and it continued for a good while bringing us a short reprieve. When I thought she'd stopped, I started to mumble some excuses, but she started having a small coughing fit. When this was over, I was about to resume my excuse-making when she gave one last, good cough, and in doing so ejected from her mouth a small ribbon of phlegm that kind of elasticated itself on to her chin. I could see it; Ben could surely see it. There was no way of avoiding looking at it and no way of telling her either.

"OK," she said. "If you're not going to do a play, you need to fill the time with something else. No?"

Ben answered this time. "Yes, we were also thinking that we need something else to do for the school."

In the time that Ben had taken to answer her, a lizard tongue had flicked out to retrieve the offending item. "Well, I've decided you shall both come in for Saturday club for a new school activity − scouting. Agreed?"

"Sounds good," I replied.

"Great idea," Ben confirmed.

"That will be all. You'll get details sent to your office."

We left in a flash, and that was that.

Walking down the corridor, heads facing forward, Ben asked me matter of factly: "You didn't happen to notice the phlegm?"

"Couldn't miss it for the world."

I like to think that that lump of phlegm single-handedly saved us from doing the play.

"Sunday – School

Monday – School

Tuesday – School

These days are full days teaching. 7.45- 3.05: long days considering 45 mins break time (not inc free periods though)

Wednesday – This is a short day for school

Thursday – Because of Sat, we get the afternoon off here.

Friday – Muslim holy day – Our (now) only full day off.

Saturday – The same principle on this day as in our country ie market day. As of last week, we work Sat mornings for the clubs the school runs on this activities morn."

3rd letter home to Mum

So, we had to give up our Saturday mornings, but scouting ended up being quite good fun especially since Mohammed was taking the class with us. Besides, teaching thirty kids how to start a campfire out in Egyptian heat with wood that hasn't seen moisture for three months − how hard could it get? If the truth be told, though, when I did finally get my opportunity to start a camp fire, I actually couldn't get it to light, which was fairly embarrassing. Mohammed also had to correct me in front of the students when I was demonstrating how to peel a potato because I was teaching them to peel towards the body. I really was that useless!