TEFL Nightmares - ‘Enough is Enough, I Quit!’

Doubts had already started to grow in my mind about the new TEFL job I’d accepted teaching business English in Benghazi, Libya (before the overthrow of Gaddafi). Just getting to Libya had been a comedy of errors. To cap a frustrating 48-hour journey from the UK I was then asked to do the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever encountered as a teacher.  Standing outside the apartment I was meant to share with my colleague my boss asked if I wouldn’t mind physically throwing out the teacher I was replacing who was refusing to leave the flat after being sacked.   I dropped my suitcases full of TEFL books on the ground and tried to remain calm as I informed my DoS that I was getting on the first plane out of Libya if they didn’t put me in a hotel till they sorted this mess out.

I could deal with most of the trials: no alcohol, if you were caught drinking it was an immediate 10-year prison sentence – not as bad as getting caught making alcohol – a death sentence; no internet, the only internet café in the neighbourhood had a sloth-like connection speed which almost left me frothing at the mouth; the scorpions you’d find on your pillow after being blown in by the wind – kept you alert!; having only two tv channels – the BBC World Service which ran mostly on a thirty minute loop, and Polish MTV – I don’t speak a word of Polish but now I can hum a few of their tunes; and the gang of local kids who used to throw stones at us every time they saw us until I chased them to their school and had a word with their headmaster.  Other than that, everything was fine.  Actually, no it wasn’t, it was awful – the only good thing about it was the business men and women who were a delight to teach and taught me a lot.  

The final straw broke the cardinal rule when on a teaching gig like that – they weren’t paying me properly.  In fact, I was only getting 10% of the promised salary.  They insisted they had paid me correctly until I informed them that I had internet banking – after a long pause my boss admitted there had been a mistake.  I told him I’d get on the next plane out of Benghazi (flying away from the job became a bit of a fantasy) if he didn’t sort it out and that I wouldn’t be coming back after the contract even then; plus he needed to make up for messing me around by organising a holiday in Tripoli at the end of my stint so I could  explore the historic city and the magnificent Roman ruins of Leptis Magna nearby – he agreed with a thousand apologies.  I really do need to be more careful when I apply for teaching jobs…

By Delv