telstarbox
Established Member
Inspired by the BR overseas offices thread. Have you ever worked abroad - railway, army, empire building, the Gulf, all counts. How did you find it and do you prefer the UK or foreign work scene?
Yes, teaching in Zambia August 1969 - December 1972. I was just 30 when I went there. Single people were generally sent to a school in "the bush", off the line of rail. I worked at a secondary school in Kaoma in Western Province, about 275 miles from Lusaka. For most of the time I was there most of the journey to and from Lusaka was on a dirt road, and you crossed the Kafue river on a pontoon which operated from 6.00 to 6.00 pm. If you got there too late you waited in the car till next morning.Inspired by the BR overseas offices thread. Have you ever worked abroad - railway, army, empire building, the Gulf, all counts. How did you find it and do you prefer the UK or foreign work scene?
Yes and still living in the USA. Posted my CV/resume on Monster.com. Was approached. Interview in USA. 3 H1B visas then upgraded to a Green Card. Probably retire next year. Shortage profession in STEM - science, technology, engineering and mathematics.Inspired by the BR overseas offices thread. Have you ever worked abroad - railway, army, empire building, the Gulf, all counts. How did you find it and do you prefer the UK or foreign work scene?
Great story, thanks!Yes, teaching in Zambia August 1969 - December 1972. I was just 30 when I went there. Single people were generally sent to a school in "the bush", off the line of rail. I worked at a secondary school in Kaoma in Western Province, about 275 miles from Lusaka. For most of the time I was there most of the journey to and from Lusaka was on a dirt road, and you crossed the Kafue river on a pontoon which operated from 6.00 to 6.00 pm. If you got there too late you waited in the car till next morning.
The school had been built to a UNESCO design a few years previously. School buildings had asbestos panelled roof and no ceilings, so when it rained the thunderous sound of the rain on the roof made it very hard to hear what was being said. Electricity from a diesel generator at various times during the day, as long as it didn't break down. Fridge powered by paraffin. Water supply somewhat intermittent - the longest we were without it was seven days, and looking back it seems hard to believe that we managed. Cooking with a big calor gas cylinder outside the kitchen window.
But....a huge sense of camaraderie. There were tremendous opportunities to contribute: almost anything you offered to do was gratefully accepted. I think it was the most enjoyable job I've had.
Two very interesting points. I certainly glad I'd worked in Zambia, and in a remote area, as I learnt things about the life circumstances of people in another part of the world which you can't appreciate nearly as much just by reading about them.12 years in Germany. Would have counted as fluent before I went; apparently indistinguishable from a native speaker by the end - so language not an issue. Some of that was in an urban area with other UK (and Irish) colleagues - so a bit of a tendency to ghetto-isation, but providing a cultural safety net. Rest was way out in the sticks. Best analogy would be going out for a long hike (hard work at times but some wonderful views) but with a little bit of grit in one boot that you can’t get out. That grit is the fact that, however hard you try and however accommodating the “locals” are, fully “belonging” is probably not achievable without having grown up there. Not talking about xenophobia (though that exists everywhere of course) but the lack of shared cultural background which either means you’re “left out” of the conversation or, even worse, realise that everyone’s bending over backwards to make sure you’re not. For example, you didn’t watch the same tv programmes and adverts, you can’t understand the references to their school system, quips and quotes that make everyone else crack up mean nothing to you…
That said, it’s a great way of widening your horizons.
Indeed - the most obvious "more difference" being that as long as I didn't open my mouth (and eventually even then) no-one would be able to distinguish me from a native.Two very interesting points. I certainly glad I'd worked in Zambia, and in a remote area, as I learnt things about the life circumstances of people in another part of the world which you can't appreciate nearly as much just by reading about them.
But there's still a huge amount you can't learn. So what's it like for people who come to Britain from Asia or Africa, whether it's with qualifications and a job, or illegally and without either? And how long might it take even for those peoples' children, born and brought up here, but from a much different culture than in the case of a British person working in Germany, to be able to feel that they really belong? The issues they may face, and the issues those of much longer British backgrounds face trying to appreciate their position, are huge.