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- Dateline Abu
Dhabi:
“All the gnus and camels, too”
by Tina Lesher
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February 10, 2001:
Where
the Devil
Is Abu Dhabi?
The
aforementioned sentence, replete with a word that could have this publication
halted by censors, was posed many times to me prior to my departure for
“wherever” that is.
Yes, I am in the Middle East,
in a country (United Arab Emirates or the UAE as it is called) that appears
to be stable and well run. Abu Dhabi, the federal capital of the Emirates,
has a population of more than 900,000. Dubai, the other large city, is
about 90 miles away, and is fast becoming a mecca (oops, that word probably
is on the banned list for me) for shoppers and golfers.
Currently on sabbatical from
William Paterson, I am spending the spring 2001 semester as a visiting
faculty member at Zayed University, where I teach three sections of the
basic communication course. The university, which opened in 1998, is a
public institution designed to educate national Emirati women. Until recently,
women were not educated, and many of my students here tell me their mothers
can’t read.
Classes started Saturday --
the beginning of the workweek -- and, as I was warned, most of the students
did not bother to show up. The faculty laughs about it, told me to give
it a few days. Sure enough, by the next session, I had too many students
and do not know how the university deals with that issue. They call me
Tina or Miss Tina, sometimes Miss.
(At my apartment building the staff calls me Madame. A far cry from what
I am called at home.) Every student has a laptop and brings it to classes.
As a result, they are quite proficient with computers, and can help with
everything related to computers.
Students are always in pairs
or groups -- everyone seems to have lots of friends. They greet each other
with kisses on both cheeks and they seem to smile a lot. The girls --
they are called girls or benat (I am learning to speak Arabic from them)
-- wear abayas, long, black flowing robes, and a head covering, called
a shaila.
Actually, one need not know Arabic at all to live here. I have met people
who have resided here for more than a decade and speak not one word of
Arabic. Most of the residents here are not nationals -- they are in the
minority. People come from all over the world to make money in this oil-rich
country.
My colleagues -- all men --
are making academic life quite nice for me. They have taught and traveled
all over the world. I think it will be a nice experience to work here
-- but still a bit complicated.
March 13, 2001:
“I
See a Camel!”
Finally I could utter that
sentence. It took weeks, but I did view some live camels a few days ago.
The site? The rather unsightly sands that mark the landscape between Abu
Dhabi and Dubai. Camels, from my perspective, are rather ugly beasts.
The Bronx Zoo camel is better looking than those in the desert. Must be
the New York water they drink every three weeks.
My camel sighting occurred on a day tour sponsored by Arabian Adventures,
a local travel group. The trip included a water taxi ride across the “Dubai
Creek,” and visits to the spice markets, the gold souks, the museum,
etc.
During all of March, Dubai
sponsors a Shopping Festival with varied kinds of entertainment venues
and shopping specials. So the city is overwhelmed with tourists from all
over Europe, the Gulf countries, and even from American cruise ships in
port now.
This week featured a double
whammy – in addition to the Festival shoppers, the visitors included
thousands of UAE residents celebrating the Eid holiday. The City Centre
shopping mall, which mirrors the biggest facilities of that type in the
United States, was literally wall-to-wall with people speaking scores
of languages. I was fascinated as I walked through it.
The UAE is investing millions to make the city the premier e-commerce
venue in the world and to make the country a popular tourist area. A few
days ago, Globo, a German magazine, named the UAE the best holiday destination
in the world.
Meanwhile, in Abu Dhabi, you would have no idea you were near a desert
since the city (on an island) is so built up with high rise buildings,
shopping areas, villas, embassies, and quite a few palaces! With 200 taxi
rides under my belt already, I have seen much of Abu Dhabi and truly enjoy
the clash of cultures evidenced here.
The class distinction is fascinating.
The nationals (UAE natives who are a minority in their own country) are
engaged in what we would term white-collar work – military posts
or government jobs. No physical labor. That is left to young men who come
here by the thousands from Pakistan, India, and the Philippines. The store
clerks are almost all Filipino men and women. Some have their own small
tailoring or textile shops or a kiosk in the souk.
I love teaching at Zayed because it is a small campus (two connected buildings
and a courtyard) and teachers are at school five days a week starting
at 8:00 a.m. Thus, you get to know lots of colleagues and staffers, and
spend much time with students.
I teach all of the second-year
students seeking entrance into the Communication/Media Sciences major.
They must get a C in my class to make the cut. Thus, the future of the
major is in the hands of a one-semester appointee from New Jersey. I am
not sure that failing a course is acceptable in this academic environment!
My initial “read”
on my classes – and this view came from what I was told at orientation
– was that my students would be quite shy. For a week maybe, until
they got to know me. When I came to class after getting my driver’s
license, they all cheered. They teach me Arabic words and laugh at my
pronunciation.
And I teach them interesting
English phrases like “full of baloney,” and they use it all
the time. If a student comments on something, another will say, “you
are full of baloney.”
Some differences: you don’t check something off on a form, you tick it off; you carry a mobile phone, not a cell phone; a television announcer is a presenter; you are not a professor, but a teacher; a college is sometimes called a varsity; women sit in the back of taxis.
April 28, 2001:
“You
Want My Camera?”
Two weeks ago, I chaperoned
an interesting trip with students to Khawla Bint Military School, the
first Gulf country facility to train women for the Army. The school is
located somewhere in Abu Dhabi; you see no signs to the school and the
bus driver and faculty members made endless mobile phone calls to determine
the site.
Anyway, I asked if I could
take a few photos. No problem, according to the Emirati woman who handles
the school’s public relations, so I took three pictures of some women
marching. Boring pictures. Later I was told that my film was to be confiscated.
I politely argued, said I did not care about the three pictures of women
soldiers, but felt the school had no right to confiscate the other 15
pictures already taken on the roll of film.
While Zayed is a university
– and reportedly one of the best here – the students have not
adopted the American collegiate mindset. Remember, many are truly sheltered
– cannot have their pictures taken, cannot go out unless their faces
are fully covered, cannot work, etc. In many ways, they are immature.
(I am amazed at how many of them carry binders with pictures of Barbie
and Mickey Mouse.) But they are so kind and modest. And sometimes they
surprise me.
My class discussions on the
mass media have provided me with more insights than those I purport to
convey to the assemblage! The students acknowledge – proudly –
that the newspapers are designed to promote the country and Islam. As
a matter of fact, the Press and Publications Law of the country says the
press is free. However (there always seems to be a “however”),
a newspaper license can be suspended if the publication incites people
against the government, damages the interest of the state, or offends
Islamic beliefs.
When we discussed making publishing
decisions, the classes proved interesting. While the students want the
world to see photos of young Arabs dying in the Gaza Strip, they argued
with each other about a photo on the front page of the Gulf News (an English
daily) last Tuesday. Three laborers for a construction firm were killed
when a concrete wall fell on them while they were having a breakfast break.
The photo showed the covered bodies (you could see the victims’ arms)
and the blood-spattered wall. My students agreed 100 percent that, had
the victims been UAE nationals, the photo never would have been published.
Then I told the classes about the Westfield Leader in my hometown in the United States and its decision not to report a major news story: a 1996 murder-suicide in its offices. The students were mesmerized as I described the incident. And, just as is true at William Paterson, the Zayed students argued back and forth about whether the Leader made the right decision.
June 5, 2001:
“Sheik
Alert!”
Those words, emanating from
the voice of a Zayed University dean, mean that a sheik or other VIP is
roaming the campus for a drop-in visit to a class. This is serious business!
The red carpet is out – literally – and the VIPs have decided
they want to visit a class, maybe to check on us foreigners! So the “sheik
alert” is sounded informally with people shaking in their boots because
a bad classroom demonstration could spell doom for the poor professor.
(You can get fired for nothing here – no due process in the Emirates.)
Well, last week, a group of
UAE dignitaries arrived on campus; sure enough, a “sheik alert”
went out that they were heading to MY class – but I did not have
a class at the time! (I’m a safe bet; a few weeks away from my contract
end.) I ran down the hall and found a few students I knew who were working
on a group project for my class and asked them to put on a presentation
“for these bigwigs” (I had to explain that word – no translation
in Arabic) and have their friends sit in as if it were a real class.
So we all raced to a classroom
and within two minutes, the VIPs, about 15 including the provost and vice
president of Zayed University, arrived. And, while a few students handled
a PowerPoint presentation, another student confidently stood before the
assemblage and, with much poise, explained the project – the objectives,
the division of the work, the research. She emphasized the value in working
with others and answered questions posed by the visitors about the respective
project. I could hardly contain myself from chuckling – that student
is not even in my class! She was making it all up! The VIPs seemed impressed
and, after their departure, all the students in the room got hysterical
with laughter. Turned out that this girl, Shamma, came to the classroom
with her friends to “sit in” for the sheik alert and when the
others were too shy to make the presentation, she just stood up and took
on the job herself. And that, at Zayed, epitomizes a typical sheik alert
team effort!
The emirate of Dubai announced
that it was producing special license plates with low numbers – a
sign of being “someone” here – and the response was so
overwhelming that the license plates will be on auction. Prices are expected
to hit above the $50,000 mark – for a license plate.
Dubai also issued an Islamic
fatwah (religious edict) against Pokemon but did not remove related goods
from the stores. Saudi Arabia banned Pokemon period.
The UAE is beginning a major
emiratisation campaign; in effect, the country wants to replace foreigners
in professional jobs with national Emiratis. Right now, the work force
at private companies includes only about two percent of national workers.
Zayed University is starting to see nationals replacing staff members
from other countries. But the university does want foreign professors,
especially from the United States.
As the unofficial token chaperone
(a woman must always be one of the chaperones on field trips and since
I am the lone woman in communication), I recently visited an Abu Dhabi
radio station where we interviewed a presenter (disk jockey) who said
he believed in UAE censorship; called it more like “caring.”
(The official news agency releases all government information in this
country.) I asked him how the station would cover something like an earthquake
right here in Abu Dhabi. Know what he said? “Well, the government
probably would not release information for three days. Maybe we could
get some information from the BBC.”
I also visited Dubai Internet
City with students a few weeks ago. What an amazing place – large
buildings in a beautiful setting – designed to attract international
broadcast networks, newspapers, ad agencies, etc., and give them all the
technical resources they need to operate. As you drive into this large
complex, colorful flags proclaim such messages as Freedom of Speech, Freedom
of Diversity, Freedom of Press, etc. Apparently, there is a move abreast
to allow press freedom from varied news-related entities, but God forbid
that you write about the UAE government; its news agency only releases
information it wants people to read or hear.
And in the language sector
– one day, it was hot in class so I removed my blazer. A few minutes
later I realized that I was wearing a blouse with short sleeves, not to
the elbow (our expected length). I said, “Sorry. Better put the jacket
back on or I will be on the ‘Next Plane to New Jersey.’”
Now the students use that phrase anytime I could be in trouble with the
university. The other day I hit my finger on the desk and I said “Oh,
damn,” and the class yelled: “Next Plane to New Jersey.”
Zayed University warns its would-be staffers that they will experience
culture shock after a few months in the UAE. From my perspective –
and this view is endorsed by Sally Jo Cunningham, the other sabbatical
professor who is here – the culture shock is going to hit when we
get home!
Here, I am called “Madame”
by every person working in a shop or the school cafeteria. (Not exactly
the Foodtown approach.)
You can get a blouse made here
for $10. (I can get it cleaned for that price in New Jersey.)
The beautiful Arabian (Persian) Gulf is a seven-iron shot away from where
I live here and I can walk to the Hilton Beach Club. (I need EZ Pass to
get to the beaches in Jersey.)
Still, I will be glad to fly home in a few weeks and read a United States newspaper, eat a bacon sandwich, and buy a bottle of wine without showing my liquor license. I still have seven months left of my sabbatical. So I plan to travel some more and maybe learn how to write a sitcom about an American in Abu Dhabi. Many humorous episodes? WP
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