Brunei 1 Lumapas

The interview with the oil company in Abu Dhabi in January 2000 was yet  another farce! We were so disappointed that I had been found medically unfit to go  to Abu Dhabi. Somehow, or other we managed to pick ourselves up and start over again from where we had left off.  But work at the Brisbane Language college was getting  worse and worse-they were laying off teachers, left, right and centre and I knew my number would come up sooner or later. It was a matter of time. The Director of studies  was appalling, and I knew I couldn't last for much longer.




" I don't believe it" said Maria.

And neither did I! I had bounded up the stairs from the computer down below in 15 Storey Road after reading an e-mail from CfBT (Centre for British Teachers) in Brunei offering me a position to start as an English teacher on August. 26. 2001!.

 It was a feeling of disbelief , elation, even euphoria. We were afraid to believe to it. After so many disappointments I had almost totally lost my confidence.

But it seemed that finally our run of bad luck which had started in 1990 had finally come to an end.in 2001…. .

This was possibly the most farcical interview of all–there was no interview in fact , not even by telephone!

But why would they offer me a job without an interview?

A pretty obvious question to most people but I can assure you it didn't occur to me at the time!

We were so happy we just didn't see what we did not want to see!

I'm getting ahead of myself, and I don't want to spoil the story. For the time being we were elated.

At last! At last! At last!

I e-mailed them back and accepted the offer without an interview.

I then received a reply in writing saying that I needed to have a telephone ‘chat’ with a former teacher form Brunei who was a cfbt representative  and who would tell me about living and working conditions in Brunei.

We were in!

By now,  I knew myself well-if I was unhappy at a school the job wouldn't last, and I couldn't risk going to a place and then returning after a short period. Not any longer, not with the family at this critical stage. R was coming towards the end of his High Schooling at St. Pauls in Brisbane. So, it was clear to me that I had to go to Brunei alone first. I had had enough experience of overseas positions to know now never ever to make the mistake of taking my family with me overseas without going first to check things out. I had bitter memories of what happened to us on arrival in Australia – being trapped. I was not going to let that happen ever  again.

At first, I thought it best that I went in August and then Maria and the children join me in Brunei in December. But I later realized that this was not a feasible plan as it would mean Maria having to pack up all our belongings and renting  the house on her own. so, I planned to come back to help her pack up and rent the house at Xmas.

then , in a surprise development, we were very fortunate the Queensland Housing Department agreed to our letting the House.(probably out of laziness!)

I started to pack and I said nothing to anybody in Australia, mainly because I couldn’t really believe that I was going. I had become neurotic and pessimistic to the point that I felt that there must surely be some last minute problem which would prevent me from going.

I decided to use my frequent flier points to go visit my mum in Ireland. I thought it might be my last opportunity to see her. She was 85 and although in excellent health, I was unsure when we would ever be in a position financially to make it back to Ireland. So I went home for a week and was able to catch up with all of the friendly people in Donegal -like the Craigs and McGonagles who were great friends of the family-and had been for years. In fact Alan McG was visiting in Brisbane while I was in Ireland!-with a rugby team from his school.

When I got back to Australia I was very disappointed to find that Alan seemed to be less than interested in arranging a meeting. Alan and I used to play together as children. It is sometimes sad how things turn out. Some would say I am sentimental. I like to think it is more than sentimentality which drives the desire to foster friendship. but perhaps, I am wrong.


Arrival in Brunei

I arrived in Brunei in May, and was met at the airport by two CfBT ladies. One looked youngish and the other about my age. I don't know what they must have made of me in the evening arriving as I did in my Aussie hat off the airplane!

I was taken to my house and I remember being impressed by the size of it especially the front room.

However, close inspection revealed that there was in fact very little furniture in it and the House was roasting hot.

I was sharing with a very nice Australian couple who had been living in Singapore.

We arrived on Saturday. On Sunday we were left totally to our own devices- to find food and to find our way around. This week I did the driving and we turned up at CfBT on Monday morning for our four day ‘Express’ orientation course. Most of it was valuable information but there was too much and we were exhausted after two days.

I managed to get sick towards the end of it and my friend  left to go to another town so I was left on Saturday on my own. I had managed to pick up some bug, and by Saturday afternoon I felt awful. By Saturday evening I had a severe diarrhoea. On Sunday I felt a little better but by the evening I was feeling awful again. I went to bed. At five o'clock in the morning, I scrambled through my papers looking for phone numbers of people who I might know in order to phone the school to tell them that I was not going to make it into work on the very first day!

later I was to realise that nobody cared whether I arrived or not! 😅

Hardly an auspicious start!


One of the Aussie teachers at Lumapas had been assigned to be my ‘Mentor’ on the first day so he met me at the boat. I had to go to this school by boat. It was really a beautiful journey of five minutes. He took me across and we walked to the school, went into the staff room and he pointed me to the classroom of 2A, and that was it.

I heard very little from him again –so much for being my mentor.

"You're on your own mate!" was his message. What really gets me about these Aussies is they talk themselves up so much and they think they're the most friendly people in the world.

Well, judge for yourself!

Ten minutes later after a cursory ‘G'day’ from the Aussie head of department,  “Frankie's my boy” I managed the first of three consecutive  double classes..

I had prepared the same class of course for all three, of course. At the end of the three classes I came back to the staff room.


I knew immediately that it hadn't been an outstanding success but I had survived! I was pretty sure that the teaching was going to be disappointing. So I sat down and waited in that horrible, smelly, little staff room.

After few minutes my Mentor came over to gloat and said

"Well how was that then?"

I paused.. "Yes, interesting"

I got the distinct impression that they knew I'd been given a rough group of classes in the lower school and they were going to enjoy my discomfort.

So my reply was sufficiently non - comital to deny them the pleasure of enjoying my humiliation.

After a few days I realized the school was a total disaster. The kids were hopelessly disorganized and didn't listen to word that I said. The curriculum was a disgrace . It was actually the same curriculum I had done myself forty years ago in Ireland as a Native speaker!

 It was impossibly difficult for ninety- percent of the students. They were doomed to failure.

Most of them did not bring books or pens or pencils or anything to class. They constantly got out of their seats, walked around without asking permission and talked incessantly all the time -especially when I was talking!

Worse still, the English department was at war with the administration. There was an Acting Principal who had no faith in the English department and hated the expatriate teachers.

I could see that as a new teacher, I was not going to be exempt from her contempt.

For the first few weeks I was scared-not sure where to put my feet. I became increasingly anxious and I grew worried about the imminent arrival of my family which would commit me to such a disastrous workplace.

 
I just could not believe it. I was inconsolable-how could this be happening to me, what had I done to deserve this?, I had great difficulty sleeping at night and suffered from some night terrors.

Strangely, things seemed to get better when I went to the school-even though the school was so terrible. The good thing was that at 12.30. you could leave. My colleagues were certainly good company and were helpful when I asked for assistance in general-but some of them were disaffected through battles with the administration.

I went home every night and had a beer a gin and tonic in order to anaesthetise the days events.

After a few weeks I spoke to the counselor and she was actually very good. She came to my house several times in the period of about two months. But after six weeks I realized that I just could not commit myself to work in that environment for a period of five to six years. I would simply go insane. I hadn’t the courage to tell Maria for a couple of weeks and when I eventually did she was really disappointed. This made me feel even worse and that somehow I was responsible for the situation.

I was in a bind.