Jeddah, Saudi Arabia — After 14 years at The Chronicle, I stopped counting how many higher-ed conferences I have attended. And as I sit through yet another PowerPoint presentation, in yet another conference hotel, in a city I’ll never see, I always wonder: With technology, why can’t everyone just watch by computer? It would sure save a lot of money and carbon emissions.
Then there are moments like the one in Riyadh on Wednesday night that remind me why face-to-face meetings still matter: the impromptu conversations and the inevitable shared experiences that potentially lead to new university partnerships, new jobs, or, for me, a good story. This particular experience was also a reminder that, despite its wealth, Saudi Arabia is still trying to figure out how to be a world player.
Part of the contingent here for the International Exhibition and Conference on Higher Education had signed up to take a field trip to see the kingdom’s most well-known higher-education institution, the King Abdullah University of Science and Technology, or Kaust, as it’s known. I wanted to see what a $10-billion endowment could buy, so I decided to join some 60 others on the trip.
Many of us didn’t learn until Wednesday afternoon that the plan was to leave Wednesday night by charter jet to Jeddah. So after rushing back from the conference to quickly pack some bags, we ended up sitting on a bus in front of the hotel for 30 minutes. My seatmate was Sibrand Poppema, president of the University of Groningen, in the Netherlands. During the wait, and the hourlong drive to a private airport in Riyadh, we talked about his university’s ties to Saudi Arabia (more to come on that in a later blog post) and the institution’s new research focus on energy and healthy aging.
I always thought the advantage of taking a private plane was that you wouldn’t have to wait at the airport. But some snafu with the charter company, meant that we had to sit at the airport. Promises of 20 minutes turned to an hour. None of us had eaten for hours. A few started to dig through their bags. Chips were passed around from delegation to delegation, as people from various countries started to mix. Then an apple was passed. Then a banana came around. Talk of higher-education issues worldwide turned to tales of bad travel experiences. The Americans in the group commented, after another hour of waiting, how a riot would have broken out by now if we were in the United States.
Instead, there was laughter, and lots of it. And people started to talk more. As the only reporter in the group, I started to hear less of “don’t print this,” and finally got to participate in engaging conversations about the public good of higher education and the role of the news media in telling that story. Hanging out with Ellen Hazelkorn, of the Dublin Institute of Technology, Barbara Brittingham, of the New England Association of Schools and Colleges, Pawan Agarwal, of the higher-ed planning commission in India, and Jane Knight, of the University of Toronto, I also heard plenty of good tidbits. Unfortunately, all off the record.
Finally, at a little after 11, we boarded the plane, where some slept, but others—now on pure adrenaline—continued conversations with new seatmates. I sat next to Liz Reisberg, of the Center for International Higher Education at Boston College, and we talked about the world of global admissions recruiting and higher-education reporting.
We landed in Jeddah after midnight, and were greeted by a smiling photographer who wanted to take our picture. The Saudis have been nothing but gracious hosts all week, even as they frustrated many of us by not sticking to a time or sharing details on plans until the last possible moment. And we at least we had food on the plane.
Another bus ride to the hotel, another seatmate (Pawan Agarwal). When we got to the Intercontinental in Jeddah, we found a locked door. A few groans, but no raised voices. After all, what could we do? A few minutes later we were all standing in the lobby, waiting patiently as the desk clerks photocopied our passports and handed out room keys.
Finally, at a little after 2 a.m., more than six hours after we’d started our journey, I inserted the key in my room door, actually glad that I had made a trip to yet another higher-education conference.