Jenga

The evening classes are now a regular event at my flat, and of course they last more than the scheduled two hours every time. Finishing a class at the College is much easier than removing hospitality at home. I have never been so sociable - visitors every night bringing gifts of food and drink. It's wonderful. But exhausting. The locals generally have a sleep in the afternoon which explains why there is always noise into the early hours. I can't get into that routine so by the time my visitors eventually leave at 10.00ish, I'm whacked. Then it's off to bed after completing my marking, and up again at about 6 to get prepped for the new day. Quite a busy schedule.

So, I'm looking forward to skipping over to Tunisia by bus tomorrow after work. It's really good value at this time of year - I've found a full board hotel with three swimming pools, tennis courts, a private beach, and lots, lots more for £40 for three nights in total. And I'm not pulling your leg.

My spare sitting room has become a mini-mosque for my visitors and their friends. If they're here when it's prayer time they disappear off for a wash and a pray, and then reappear ten minutes later refuelled and ready for more learning. It was a bit weird to start with, hearing chanting from my spare room, but it's perfectly normal now. Last night I had a long post-prandial chat about Islam on the back of the Turkish initiative to reassess the Hadith, so I think I might be on the receiving end of some helpful literature in the near future.

I had my initial supplementary class with some students last night. I really must take some classes on negotiation - the starting point had been for me to provide one hour's coaching to one student once a week for which I thought I might charge 10 dinars an hour, or 40 dinars a month - the people here don't earn very much, and I don't want to take advantage of the generosity they constantly show me. Following discussions last night, I am now committed to providing two hours, three times a week, to four students, for 400 dinars a month. Quite a difference, but they're very keen, and I have the time available.

In the few spare moments which I now have I have modified the Tripolibrary web site, and published it following very positive feedback from colleagues and, possibly more importantly, the Embassy. It'll be interesting to see how it progresses now that it's in the public domain. Its address is:

http://tripolibrary.hostbigger.com

This morning, following advice from people who live here, I drove my car into work. It's not legal yet, so I needed to get it off the road where it was liable to either a ticket from the police, or being pinched because it would be untraceable. It's now in the locked car park at work where it'll be safe until I get the licence plates made up. I must say I was a little apprehensive driving in, but after a few minutes, and having taped my right hand to the gearstick to reinforce its location, I began to feel quite comfortable. I decided that I would pick my route carefully and just hope that everyone else on the road kept their distance. This plan worked perfectly - both cars I met at 6.30 am behaved impeccably.

In the morning break I was escorted to my car by my students - they were so keen to see what I'd bought. One said that I should sacrifice a sheep to thank God for giving me such a beautiful machine. They were so pleased for me - hand shakes and congratulations all round. They seem to be clasping me ever closer to their collective bosom.

Last weekend, Khalid asked me to give him some extra English lessons. I said I'd have a think - if he could get a group of four together, then I could possibly do a couple of hours a week. We'd need to talk about money if he could set up the group. Well, early this week he told me that he'd found the requisite number of students for these additional classes, and they want to start on Sunday next week - for four hours a week, not the couple I'd hoped for. We're going to see how it goes until the end of term, and then think again about venue, content, and time. It's all money in the bank, and what else would I be doing with my time? I have some ideas, but more of that later.

One evening this week, I wandered into my kitchen to make a sandwich, and on the way there I met an uninvited visitor. Normally I wouldn't have minded, but this one was sinister and decidedly unfriendly:

It got a quick squirt from a can I had ready for the purpose having been warned that the season was approaching, and I'm now practising sleeping with my mouth shut.

In conversation this week with one of the other teachers, I mentioned that I was constantly running out of books to read, and I said that someone should set up an exchange system for ex-pats. She said, "Why don't you do it then?", so I have. There is now a Tripoli website via which people can exchange books at no cost. It's early days, but I contacted the Embassy, and they've put a few people in touch with me so hopefully it'll take on some momentum, and increase in offerings, over the coming weeks. If you'd like to have a look, it's at:

Books for Brits

And finally, I've bitten the bullet and bought a car. It's in a very delicate shade of purple so people will be able to avoid me on the roads, and the camels will see me in the desert - very important because it's only a little car. So far I've had one short drive in it (I'm not legal yet, and it'll take a week or so to sort out the  paperwork) but it's going to be quite a challenge. Not only have I never driven a left-hand drive car, but I'm a novice at driving on the right, and the rules in Libya are very different from England - a major difference is sitting in the fast lane to avoid cars which go too fast in the slow lane. I don't think I'll be able to take it to Tunisia next weekend, but there's plenty of time to go again in the future. In the meantime, some students have promised to sit with me to tutor me in the finer points of driving etiquette here. I know you're gagging to see a picture, so here it is:

I'm absolutely pooped! Back out to the mountains this morning with another student and his friend, to the same area, but this time to have lunch and dinner al fresco. Wajdi, on the right:

picked me up, and we drove like a bat out of hell, weaving and diving till we got to the mountains. There we met up with some of Wajdi's friends, and set about cooking not just a barbecue but a feast. As you can see from the photograph, it was a home from home, complete with cushions, and taking shoes off before sitting down:

Over lunch, mainly in Arabic with Wajdi translating whenever he could, we discussed many things - sex, drugs, rock and roll, and pork sausages. We got into quite a detailed debate about the differences between the Koran and the Bible, and I'm afraid I rather let the side down; I shall have to dig out my 100 Minute Bible to refresh my knowledge - was Adam made of clay? I don't remember that being mentioned in Genesis. And Wajdi has promised to give me an English language version of the Koran. So, my work is going to be cut out over the next few decades.

Talking about love and marriage, as we did, made me very reflective. Everyone here is so respectful of their parents, right and wrong, and particularly when it comes to choice of spouse. As Wajdi put it, your parents know you better than you know yourself, so if your heart says do one thing, and your parents say another, you must listen to your parents. The less said on this matter now the better - my mother will read this!

After lunch, it was time for a walk - you can tell how steep the hills were from this picture:

Most of the roads round here were built by the Italians before they 'left' at the end of the War, and I had images of the Italian Job flying through my mind as we climbed. There is a remarkable love for the Italians here, even though so much death was inflicted on the Libyans during the period of occupation. It says a great deal about the generosity of the people here.

Driving further into the mountains, we stopped off in a town known for its pottery - stalls bordered the road on both sides for miles. Not really my cup of tea, so I wasn't tempted - all rather too heavy and gaudy for me:

Back in the car, we stopped off for one final view of the palms:

and then it was back home - at 140 kph in traffic which was nose to tail. I was in the back so felt relatively safe, but other cars had people hanging out of the windows, and pickups were laden with kids in the back, all steaming along. Friday is a popular day for getting out of town with the family, but at the end of the day everyone is keen to get home.

Despite my concerns, I am beginning to consider buying an old banger for getting out of town at the weekends - maybe drive over to Benghazi, or out into the desert, or just pootle along the coast a little. It would be great to have the flexibility. And not that many people are killed on the roads here, so why should I be one of the unlucky ones? The options of cruising over to Cairo, or tripping into Tunis, sound so fantastic, don't they? And aren't I here for new experiences?

As planned, I was taken from work out to the mountains, and it was wonderful. The sun was shining when Khalid and Mustafa collected me, and we took a tortuous route past demolished buildings (as is the norm here) to the outskirts of Tripoli. Out on the edge of town there is a phenomenal amount of building taking place - flats, houses, and business parks. The plan is, I gather, to move large chunks of the population out of town to rebuild the city to have wide streets, hotels, and easily accessible business areas. Khalid asked me if I wanted to have a go at driving, but I'm not quite ready for that yet: the road rules here are bizarre in the extreme, even down to on which side to drive; indicators are troublesome irritations.

Once out of town, the roads improved considerably, and in no time we were out into the mountains - about 80 kms south:

We climbed up one section to get the view, and then back down via a wadi which was still running with a little water from the rains earlier this month - Mustafa called back to me to keep an eye open for snakes because they liked the damp grass...hmmmmm! The date palms were lush in the little valley:

In one area, supposedly rife with scorpions at the height of summer (it was pleasantly cool today), we came upon some caves which were lived in until quite recently:

There was a flat bit outside so Khalid and Mustafa used the time to have their afternoon prayers. I waited in a cave for them to finish:

On the way back we got stopped by the police - lucky I wasn't driving!

This week one of my students complimented me on my Arabic accent, so I'm feeling pretty chipper. Practice does seem to make perfect and despite many a faux pas, I keep plugging on. I like to think I bring a little joy into the lives of the people on the receiving end of my efforts, and so don't let the occasional strange looks make me despair.

Yesterday, I went to a conference and seminar here in Tripoli, arranged by the British Council for putative students and practising teachers. There was quite a buzz there, and it was good having the opportunity to talk to some native English speakers. There must have been, as well as the usual suspects like Oxford and Cambridge University Presses, about thirty British universities in attendance. SOAS provided some speakers, as did the Council. It was a great opportunity to do some networking so I made a number of contacts who may figure in my future plans. Apparently recruitment and retention of EFL and ESP teachers is a bit of a problem in Libya, so that's good news for people who want to stay here!

At the Institute, following on from the exams last week, I've changed my focus slightly to include more listening and spelling activities. To lighten the lessons a little, I also showed the Window on the World PGCE video of my teaching practice on one of the new flat screen TVs which has been installed in a classroom. In the middle of this, the Institute MD sauntered in, and watched my spiel on using the SmartBoard. We're due to get some of these soon, so, if I play my cards right, I'll be able to lead the training from the front.

Following on from the success of that exercise, I made up a DVD of some photographs I've taken whilst here, and included some of my family, Rome, and Britain. These went down very well - they're so interested in families here, and other countries and cultures. They commented on how like me my sons look, so I told them how lucky my sons were. Thankfully they understand this level of humour!

It's quite idyllic here, now that I've settled in to the flat. I buy a French stick straight out of the oven as I decamp from the bus, pick up some fresh fruit and veg on the walk home, and settle down to my main meal in the early afternoon, sometimes on the balcony, but more often inside whilst the weather decides what to do. I haven't had any booze since New Year's Day, and because it's not part of the culture here, I'm not sure I miss it anymore. It's available if you want it, but I can't be bothered with the hassle. I could really do with company though, of a kind that is just not available here.

I'm going off to the mountains tomorrow and Friday with a couple of students - apparently if I have a sensitive side at all I will weep with delight when I see the flowers, so I'm looking forward to the assault on my senses.

As luck would have it, I had my camera with me today when one student told me he wanted his photograph taken before he had his hair cut - he's been called up to do a month in the Army in March. He's a really gentle bloke, so I felt very sad when he told me. He's the one at the back on the left:

We had more exams this week, and there'll be another set next week for the other classes. They seem to be happening all the time, and indeed they are very frequent - half way through each course, and then again at the end - so when we have staggered start dates, it's bound to happen. We marked the papers in the evening, and I began to worry about my teaching skills: some of the answers were beyond bizarre, so while I laughed at some papers, I also spent time reflecting (in best PGCE mode) on how to fill the gaps in their knowledge.

One teacher was off sick this week, and because we are spread so thinly, that left us in a rather frenetic state. It reminded me of those happy days at East Berks - running from one lesson to the next with no time to turn round. Although exhausting, tremendous fun.

One of my students told me of a place to get films on DVD, before they're released in the UK. I went looking today, but must have been in the wrong place, so I'll have to check the OS co-ordinates with him next week. For 40p a DVD, it's very tempting as a change from Aljazeera and BBC World.

I was a little bit naughty on Pancake Day - I explained Ash Wednesday and Easter to my students, and why we celebrate Shrove Tuesday. They could relate to preparation for fasting, and where the pancakes fitted in. One woman asked what time Ash Wednesday started - a reasonable question given that Ramadan and Eid are dependent on the sighting of the moon, so answering midnight sounded a bit unexotic in comparison.

There was a wedding party across the street here last night with drums at 4.00 am. The dogs started their regular dawn chorus at about 5.00, and my local mobile phone company sent me a text message at 5.30, so I threw in the towel at that point and decided to have an early start. Typically, the internet was down, but it gave me a chance to catch up with some reading - the Jungle Book on this occasion.

Later in the morning I went with one of my students to choose my Saturday roast at a local market:

The peafowl were very tempting, but the price was a bit steep - £80 for three:

Today I was planning to go to the hot springs at Tajura but because they're outdoors (obviously), with the weather today being on the damp side, I decided to postpone this delight for another weekend:

Here's a 2004 article I found which makes interesting and amusing reading:

http://www.nigel-richardson.com/pages/journalism/journalism_item.asp?journalismID=201

You can tell I haven't got much to do - three posts in as many days - but I've finally managed to acquire a PO box in the main Post Office here in Tripoli, so I thought I'd share these pictures with you. It's in a wonderful decaying monolithic fin de sièclesque building in an Italianate square just outside the centre of town, across the road from the converted cathedral. I had to sign my life away in blood in triplicate, but I do now feel like a genuine resident.

This was the busiest I've seen it - one chap reading a newspaper, and more staff than customers. A lovely atmosphere.

Taking full advantage of the change in the weather, I revisited the bomb site of last week to see how things had changed. On the way there, a bloke stopped in his car and asked if I was lost - 'No', I said, 'just out walking.' It's not something you see many people doing here because taxis are so cheap, and there are so many cars.

The area was really dusty, but the diggers seem to have moved out for the most part. The sledgehammer has been very catholic in its travails - even the mosques have been reshaped:

As I was taking this photograph, a bloke called over telling me that the whole area would all be rebuilt within a month, but I think he was pulling my leg. I suspect the Ugandans will be hoping that it's all over, but in their case, the writing really is on the wall (dare I say literally?) - the red arrow you can see through the reinforcing steel indicates the extent of their plot, and they're going to lose quite a bit, trees and all:

I was having a chat with my landlord in the week about all this destruction, and he was quite despondent about it. He wanted the demolition to slow down a bit, and the building up to move a little faster.

Everywhere you look in Tripoli there is demolition taking place with very little construction. One exception is the new bus station near where I used to live, although I'm not quite sure why they're building a bus station - there are hardly any buses:

This end of town has seen probably the highest concentration of new building, and also has the greatest extremes of affluence and squalor. It's right by the old town, and has the greatest buzz of anywhere. Some of my students warned me to keep away - it's dangerous round there, they say. Being the first area I experienced when I first touched down here was certainly a good introduction, besides which, danger is all relative - I'd rather walk around the the old town in Tripoli at midnight than High Wycombe!