Once again, an unsuccessful tourist excursion has led me to a new pal and more surreal experiences. Yesterday I was turned away from the Al-Tayebat 'International City Museum for Sciences and Knowledge' because they (inexplicably) only accept single visitors on Tuesdays.

They let this guy in, so why not me?

Not wanting to waste the journey, I headed to the row of antique/junk shops next to the museum to get some souvenirs. The shop owners were all incredibly happy to talk to me, and answered anything I asked about the weird collections they had. One guy gave me a carton of orange juice and let me sit behind the counter while I went through his huge postcard collection, and then he showed me a load of seals from ancient Mesopotamia which (he said) would be seized by the government if they knew he owned them.

The last shop I went into was owned by a man called Jamal. We got talking and I mentioned that I was a private tutor, to which he got quite animated and told me he was also a teacher, of 'research'. Confused, I asked what that involved, and we spent the next hour or so talking about his various hobbies and entreprenurial endeavours. It quite quickly became apparent that 'research' and 'teaching' were umbrella terms he used to describe almost all of the activities of his life, and that (at least according to him) he was some sort of polymath genius.

He normally charges 10SR for photos

As well as the antique shop, he and his wife own and operate a nursery in a nearby shopping mall where he trains all the staff himself. It was here that he pioneered a method to teach children to play football with both feet, and his technique is now being put to use throughout Saudi Arabia. He has a huge collection of Saudi and other currencies, and vaguely alluded to the Guinness book of world records in connection to it. He also collects music from around the world, and went into some detail explaining how he had paired different national styles whose similarities no one had ever noticed before. To demonstrate, he played me a few songs on his guitar that he had constructed by stitching together parts of Indian, French, Arabic and Egyptian songs. It was great. I made a recording on my phone, but I have no idea how to transfer it to my computer so you'll have to take my word for it.

I should point out that the book on the counter is Jamal's resume, which he got out in order to show me the full extent of his achievements. I couldn't read a word because it was all in Arabic, but it was around 300 pages long so I got the point. This was clearly more than just a document for future employers; he talked about his resume with great pride, evidently considering it as a kind of chronicle of his life and monument by which he would be remembered.

I stayed in the shop until closing time, when Jamal had to go to the nursery to meet his wife and family. He invited me to come with him, and even though I was feeling a bit tired by this point I could hardly refuse. I don't think I'm very good at saying no in these situations. I met his wife and children, had a good look around the nursery, and then Jamal invited me to eat some food with him before I left. I went and picked up a crepe from the food court while he tried to find a table.

The search for a table was unsuccessful, so Jamal insisted that I eat in the nursery itself. This was probably when the evening reached its surreal peak; my host had to go to administer some painful-sounding injections into his back, so he left me alone, eating a cheese and egg crepe at the back of his nursery. I was sat at a chair and table set obviously intended for a child in the corner of the brightly lit room, desperately avoiding eye contact with a toddler who was half-heartedly bouncing on a mini trampoline a few feet in front of me.

Feeling sure that his parents were going to arrive at any minute and have me arrested, I ate my crepe as quickly as I could. Just as I was finishing Jamal's wife came over, and things started to make a bit more sense. She asked me about my qualifications, my work and how much time it was taking up, and I quickly realised that I was in an interview. Jamal hadn't mentioned anything to me about tutoring his children (and if he had I would have told him there was no way I could), so it's a definite possibility that he just gave his wife the line that I was a potential tutor to explain my presence in the nursery. On the other hand, maybe he had this in mind all along, but to ask me would be to concede that he was not, despite his claims, capable of anything.

I'm embarrassed to say that I lied to Jamal back in the shop; when he asked me how long I was going to be in Saudi Arabia for I told him I wasn't sure, possibly until the end of May (this is when I would have finished had I not quit), and that it was up to the family I was working for. I don't really know why I said this. I suppose I thought that telling him I was leaving in a week would disappoint him, though obviously he's going to be even more disappointed when I call him on Tuesday and tell him I've decided to leave as if it's a new development. Unlike Luchman I suspect Jamal might have an email address though, so maybe we can stay in touch.

Shortly after I finished my crepe, Jamal and his wife (who teaches English) managed to find a table in the food court and we talked for a bit longer before I left. They already knew all the stuff that I've spent the last two months learning about tutoring spoilt Saudi children and were able to give me a good deal of advice that I'm not going to be able to put to any use at all. I left feeling like an idiot for not telling them I was leaving so soon, but much of what they told me about Saudi parenting styles confirmed my resolve to get out as soon as I can.