You get what you pay for (sometimes)

A Jordanian (with Palestinian background, who had grown-up in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia) suggested to me that I could study Arabic in Saudi Arabia (KSA) – for free!

However, I had already met a Korean, who had moved from KSA, who was then studying at the Arab Community College (ACC) in Amman.  On a hill opposite the hospital – a boring place, which is as effective as the Language Centre of Jordan University except that you get what you pay for (whereas at UJLC you pay way more for what you gain – if anything).

As usual, the smart students are the ones who had already studied elsewhere or who already knew some colloquial Arabic.  The rest of the students simply stagnate and end-up repeating levels (so no real cost-saving here).  I also knew a few Chinese students who had already studied at the UJLC, but they still could not (or would not) speak Arabic so no benefit on that front either.

As for the Korean, he started off as intermediate and came alone (like myself) and was forced to communicate (in Arabic) with those who knew no English.  Most of the students at ACC were from the country-side in South-Eastern Europe, southern Russia and the ex-Soviet states, and (unfortunately for them, but fortunately for me) did not learn English effectively while they were at school (unlike in UJLC where most of the students already knew basic English and would rather practice improving this with those of us who were from England).

When asked why he had left Saudi, the Korean described KSA as a harsh place.  In fact, as well as learning Arabic, he was also interested in getting married in Jordan and, luckily (but unfortunately luck might not help him when dealing with nationalism), at least some of the girls, studying Korean, at the University of Jordan wanted to practice speaking with him.

He also asked me if it was easier to get married in Egypt. By that time, I’d only lived in Alexandria, which was not very different to Jordan (in terms of final outcome) so was unsure what to say to him.  Too bad I didn’t speak to him after Cairo (see below).

I use to know a Dajani (who was a mixed-heritage guy in Jordan) and when attending his birthday dinner (or perhaps it was his friend’s birthday – or even a mutual friend) with some of his peers, I got introduced to a Jordanian normally working in Saudi Arabia.

He hinted how he could not get married because there was no social-life in Saudi Arabia, let alone the opportunity to get to know somebody of the opposite gender.  Whereas back in Jordan, he was not around long enough for his parents to arrange a marriage for him.

Interestingly, I once met a Saudi in London, who, to my annoyance, had told me it is forbidden (in religion) to mix freely with the opposite gender, but then admitted he was getting involved with some British Asian who was helping him with the English language.

I also knew a British guy that had worked many years in Oman and had amassed a bit of a fortune while living the high-life (he told me), but never got married.  He later returned to Ruislip Gardens and ended up marrying a Filipino, who had been nursing his sick mother (RIP).

Frankly, I never understood what Jordanian men really wanted.  Nor did I understand what Egyptian women really wanted.  All I ever asked was to learn Arabic (and I ended up losing time, health and a lot of money) and they were always the first to talk to me about marriage (guaranteed).

More relevant to my primary reason for going abroad, in Alexandria, I had learned a significant amount of Arabic in a short space of time, but at the cost of my physical health.  Whereas in Jordan, I had learned a little bit of Arabic – over a long period of time – at the cost of my mental health.  Either way, I was going bankrupt and on my way to an early grave. 

Much later, I figured that the only way out of the career (and increasingly financial) mess I was in was a UN-standard diploma in translation/interpretation offered at the American University in Cairo (AUC), but by that time, although I had been impressed with Cairo, I was fed-up of living in the Middle East and taking a risk on my working career, which had been an IT career.

Plus, after returning home, I learned that my father was diagnosed with cancer and the thought of being in an exotic-looking far-away land no longer appealed to me.

Goes without saying that, except for perhaps one month (in order to gain immersion into the Arabic language), studying in the Middle East is often not worth the investment.

In the future, we would hear the story of Khashoggi – a former employee of the Saudi government, but later a US resident, who setup a party called Democracy for the Arab World Now and was later assassinated (while in Turkey).  How?  We do not know, just that he returned to KSA in more than one box at the same time.  Verily, there were too many issues with living in the Middle East!

I met many who had studied Arabic in Saudi Arabia, but few of them ended up in a satisfying career.   Some of them ended up becoming teachers (and some of them teaching English in the Middle East).

Perhaps the somewhat more fortunate DIY Arabic students eventually returned to a previous career, for example in software development.