My Own Testing Center

For some reason, my experience with college campuses in the Middle East makes me feel like I am back in high school (or junior high!), but it's about 40 degrees hotter and they are speaking another language.

In my opinion, BYU has one of the most beautiful campuses in the world. The landscaping is gorgeous, there is never trash scattered throughout the halls, the bathrooms are clean and are continually stocked with toilet paper and soap, and the air is clean and cigarette free. And let's not forget my own home on campus--the JFSB, with its beautiful courtyard and the rock water fountain and the 3rd floor where I spent 80% of my life in college and the basement with its lack of wireless (and windows) and the individual desks. The kind that you could move across the floor if you wanted. The kind that I could walk into class and move the desk in front of my forward several inches and turn the desk behind me sideways so I had more room and so no one would sit behind me.

I love moveable desks.

This is not a movable desk; rather, it is a picture from my office window at BYU. Because let's be honest, thinking about mornings like these make me feel just a little bit colder. Imagination is everything when it's 100 degrees.

My classroom at Hebrew University does not have moveable desks. I am sure I will post something about the architecture at Hebrew U later, but in addition to their, umm, interesting architecture and decorating schemes the classrooms are small and are permanently set up the same way: three rows of desks, set up in a half circle, and connected to each other and the floor. The plastic chairs are orange and are nailed to metal rods that are screwed in to the floor.

The desks are about 7 inches wide and 10 inches long. Yep. Not even big enough to fit a whole piece of paper. And they are stuck so close together that there isn't enough room for a normal person to feel like s/he has enough room to breathe, let alone someone as claustrophobic as I am.

For the first few days this wasn't a problem. I sat in the back with an empty chair on each side of me. One chair was for my purse (with my laptop in it), one desk was for my book, my desk was for my notes, and the other desk was to give me space to breathe.

However, recently our class size expanded slightly and people in the class have started sitting in my chairs. The chairs that I clearly staked out with my purse and my textbook. The chairs that have "Breanne's space" written all over them.

It's kind of disturbing.

Before you go thinking that I am just overreacting (who needs three desks anyway?), let me tell you about these people that sit next to me. On the right has been 3 different people, one girl and two boys, all Palestinian college students from Jerusalem. On the left is a college-aged male from Germany. Instead of giving their names, I will just call them by nationality to protect identity. The Palestinians on my right must also feel that their personal space has been compromised, because they always put their arm on my desk. I think that all three of them have done this, but I know for sure that if either of the guys are sitting next to me, their arm will be resting on my desk, taking up about 1/4 of the space.

My 7 x 10 inch desk.

Yeah. Where's my arm supposed to go?

And then Germany, on my left, has a left-hand desk. This is great when my purse is sitting there because I have easy access. This is not so great when a person is sitting there because there is nothing between me and them, and Germany is always leaning towards me.

Yep. The queen of claustrophobia and protected personal space has Palestinian arm on her right and Germany on her left.

It's killing me.

To make matters worse, the air conditioning is controlled with an on-off switch. Which gives the students way too much power to veto the air conditioning. And half of the students in my class feel like it's "always cold" and continually turn the air conditioning off.

What's the purpose of having air conditioning if it's always off?!

So we have these air-conditioning wars. At first I tried to be a passive witness, but when it got so hot I thought I was going to pass out, I started speaking up. Usually what happens is the air conditioning will be on and someone will get cold. And they will either get up and turn off the switch or ask someone to turn it off. And after about 15 minutes I feel like I am melting out of my skin and I stand up (I sit right next to the switch for good reason!) or someone else stands up and turns it back on. 15 minutes later it is turned off again.

Every day this situation provokes arguments. "It's always so cold in here!" those wearing shorts and t-shirts (or worse, a strapless dress that stops above the knees!) say. "Put on more clothes!" I say. I'm not very sympathetic. "I can't really take anything off but you guys can always put on a sweater. It's hot in here!"

And so the battle rages. And whether the air conditioning is on or off, the teacher keeps the door closed and the windows covered with blackout drapes.

No air conditioning. 20 students crammed into a small room. Windows and doors closed. Palestinian arm on my right and Germany on my left. And 5 hours of intensive Hebrew a day.

Just thinking about it makes me want to crawl out of my skin.

So today we had a 90 minute test. And right before the teacher handed it out, someone switched off the air conditioning. The door was closed, the drapes were shut, and I was supposed to take this test with Germany on my left and Palestinian arm on my right? In the heat? For 90 minutes?

No.

"Excuse me," I asked my teacher. I was close to tears, or maybe it was just sweat. "I'm so hot. I'm going to die or pass out or something dramatic. Can I go and sit in the hallway (where there is airflow) and take this test?"

She looked doubtful. Why would I want to sit on the floor in a breezy hallway when I could sit in a teeny desk in a stuffy hot classroom? "These Americans," I'm sure she was thinking. But I guess my look was desperate enough, because she checked the classroom next door.

Empty.

"You can take it in here," she said.

And guys. It was amazing. I had my own classroom, no one sitting on my right or left, and the air conditioning was on high.

It was my very own testing center. No one to kick the back of my chair (this made me crazy at BYU's testing center), no one to put their arm on my desk, and no one to turn off the airconditioning.

And you know what? I bet I got 40% higher on this test than the one I took on Thursday in the hot classroom.

I'm going to give the credit to the air conditioner.