Culture Shock, Socializing, and Frames of Mind

I think that my culture shock, such as I have experienced it, has been mitigated over the past couple weeks by the fact that I teach in an English-speaking environment, I have a number of people from the school looking after me, and that I am here for such a short time. I have also tried to stay open-minded about the circumstances in which I have found myself, and I am continuously grounded and focused by thinking about the students that I have the opportunity to teach.

This past weekend was split between traveling with others and living on my own. While I definitely learned more with others - Bartering 101 with John and Wain, Passion processions in Azazieh with Berdj and Laura, and Armenian social life with Maria and Alig – it has been important to discover that I actually can function independently in a city where I essentially do not know the language. I can go grocery shopping, get from my apartment to the city center both on foot and by taxi, and deal with small bouts of minor homesickness. (Sam Roberts and Joel Plaskett were no small help this weekend)

I have heard from foreign hires who have taught elsewhere in the Middle East that Syria has been their most difficult placement because so few people speak English. It seems to me that there are a number of teachers looking forward to the end of their contract because the challenge of learning the Arabic language makes a deep integration into the culture much more difficult. While most teachers know enough Arabic to function, one individual told me that she felt it would take a much better understanding of Arabic to strengthen any of the relationships she shared with the Syrians she had met. The majority of foreign teachers therefore feel confined to a social circle of other teachers at the school in Aleppo and the scientists at the associated research facility.

In order to overcome the challenges of living in a small community and thrive on the international education scene, I think that a teacher needs to exhibit one of three characteristics: a solid knowledge of the local language that allows the teacher to participate fully in the host community; a true love for exploring cities, the Great Outdoors, and/or tourist sites; or a enjoyment of hobbies unrelated to teaching that can be done at home regardless of where “home” is. I want to teach abroad to engage with an entirely different community of students, but I know that I will need to bring other pastimes and interests when I take on a contract to teach outside of Canada.

Right now, I am really missing having a guitar to play. Music plays a big role in shaping my frame of mind and helping me to re-focus myself. Since I hugged my parents at the airport and said goodbye, I have constantly been evaluating how I am feeling and why I am feeling that way. I am happy to report that I have felt really good since I stepped out of the airport in Aleppo. It has been difficult to get to a phone or computer for a longer period of time, which sometimes weighs me down when I first wake up or when I am heading to bed, but as one of my associate teachers often said, the promise of “just another day in paradise” helps to both start my day and send me off to sleep.

The Needy Traveler

I have a trying week up ahead: A full day of teaching on Sunday, a short day on Monday because of Parent-Teacher Interviews, a full day of teaching on Tuesday, and then a five-day weekend. (The government declared that the Prophet’s Birthday would be on Wednesday, but students, teachers, and researchers had already made plans for the holiday to be on Thursday, so there is no school that day, then comes the Friday-Saturday weekend, and Sunday is Easter!) Whew! It is going to be strenuous!

As I considered my traveling options for the weekend the other evening, I discovered that I am a bit of a needy traveler! I am perfectly willing to actually go from A to B on my own, but I am less than keen to spend a night in a hotel without a friend to talk about the day and the sights that I have seen. You may think that I am a sissy for not hoping to find another English-speaker with whom I can hang out in the hotel bar, but I simply feel like I need a daily shred of normalcy in a context that is completely different for me! This weekend might be a wonderful opportunity to visit Palmyra, but I am going to hold out until later in the month when I can find a travel buddy. (Most of the other teachers are going sightseeing in other countries, but as I have seen little of Syria itself yet, I would really prefer to stay in one country while I am here!) Instead, I plan on visiting Aleppo’s famous souqs, its Citadel, the many mosques and bathhouses that are more than a thousand years old, and nearby Apamea. I will be making my way through the twisty streets of Aleppo by myself, but at least I will be familiar with the area in which I am wandering. I should even be able to attend Catholic and Armenian Easter services with my new buddy Berdj. Yes, they will be in Arabic, and therefore no, I probably will not understand much of what is going on in the service.

Although I know I should be pushing myself out of my comfort zone, it is also incredibly important for me to be in a positive frame of mind in order to get the most out of my little adventures. (I will definitely be breaking new ground when I have to do my own grocery shopping with Arabic-speaking vendors this weekend!) I imagine that my students also want to have something familiar, even vaguely familiar, to hold onto when learning new material. Stepping into a new classroom, meeting a new teacher, or beginning a challenging new topic can be intimidating for some students, so I suppose that it is my responsibility to frame something brand new in a way that is somewhat familiar to these individuals.

So how do I ask in Arabic “What time does this bus return to the city?”