60 Days

At the beginning of February, the Saudi Health Ministry ordered the closure of cinemas, restaurants and coffeeshops due to a minor rise in confirmed coronavirus infections. Thankfully, unlike in neighbouring Oman, beaches weren't closed again in KSA, so every weekend since I was miraculously reunited with my family we've made the most of Khafji's wonderful white sand beaches and turquoise seas. Last month, we began a new vlog series on YouTube for posterity purposes, so if you'd like to watch some of our sandy escapades on film, click this link "On a Saudi Beach".

On one magical beach day in February, thousands of birds flew past us on their migratory travels north towards Kuwait. A reminder, if we needed one, of God's incredible creation. It added to a trio of fabulous natural wonder experiences we've had in the last few years. First of all, five years ago, we got to see a dolphin up close as he or she swam a few metres from us. Second, two years back, a large shoal of fish gathered near the shoreline allowing Raf and I to disperse them. Finally, just before the coronavirus pandemic began, a biblical invasion of locusts engulfed Miras, Raf and I in the desert. 

Alongside these blessings of fabulous family time, I haven't exactly been stressed at work lately either. In fact, since October I haven't taught at all. Instead, I've written an 80-page supplement for a much hyped, and significantly delayed, security guards intake and helped with the odd exam invigilation. Other than that, I've just drunk coffee, edited vlogs and organised photographs. In stark contrast to my personal situation, the company itself has ratcheted up the pressure on those allocated to both online and in class teaching. Six or seven periods a day (up from three) and frequent unannounced observations (potentially filmed too) from quality assurance is in vogue. 

It seems management have concluded 2020 was an easy year for teachers and, with online teaching not going away in a hurry, they felt they could not let this situation continue indefinitely. Furthermore, the highest echelons of management have also made clear that health will be a major feature of life in Saudi Arabia this year and no exceptions to following mandates or rules will be tolerated. In order to enter campus, we must already show a tracking app called Tawakkalna and, if the recent decision about those who wish to attend Hajj this year is anything to go by, teachers might be obliged to take the covid vaccine in August before any meaningful return to in-class teaching happens. I'm not against vaccines in principle, but this vax simply hasn't been tested for an appropriate length of time and injuries are starting to mount up. 

All of these disturbing developments at work couldn't have come at a better time, especially if I have any last-minute reservations about ending my contract. Colleagues of mine remain cynical that I'll ever quit because I've moved my goalposts several times in the past, but I remain resolutely committed to ending my contract at the end of April. The pandemic changed everything and I simply can't do this anymore. My seemingly endless season in Saudi Arabia will come to an end in exactly 60 days when an Emirates jet flies my family and I to Cebu City.  The Philippines is calling, can anything stop us now?