Another weekend has come and gone and I am sitting at home on a Saturday (the equivalent of Sunday for those of you Westerners) staring at the pile of homework in front of me and procrastinating. Actually, ( Fee Al’hakeek see if I put in some Arabic words it’s like I’m studying right?) I have a nasty stomach ache currently. We’ll get to how this came about later in this blog though…first things first, Thursday!
This Thursday David and I cut class thirty minutes to go meet our habibtee Mariam. Mariam had promised to bring us to Hashemite University (out in the desert). Hashemite University is competing with Jordan Uni as the best government school in Jordan. It is about 27,000 students I think? More importantly, our friends Muhammad, Munir, and Sina (Mariam’s sister) go there. Once meeting up with Mariam, we followed her like little ducklings to the Raghadan bus station and then out into the desert. It’s amazing how cheaply you can travel by bus in Jordan. A 1 hour bus ride from downtown Amman to Hashemite University was a measly 1 JD. Talking to other CIEE kids it appears that most have stuck to the quick and convenient Taxi ride, but I (Wylie of Arabia) dare to face the language barriers and smelly public transports. I’m slowly (and blindly) navigating myself through the public transportation system. With help from my Arab friends I will be a professional in no time. Anyways, back to our trip…
Once at the school we stepped out into a desert-like landscape with huge beige buildings blotting the landscape. Hashemite, David and I quickly noticed, was much smaller, but much hotter than JU. The lack of trees and tall buildings made for a scarcity of shade. Waddling after Mariam like a bunch of naïve tourists, David and I snapped shots of the surroundings. We met a lot of people, whose names I can’t remember, except the two African cousins both named Ahmad who dressed like gangsters. One thing I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned or not is that Jordanians are very fashionable. The men put me to shame. Hopefully I’ll get some cheap new threads and fit in better later this summer.
The next few hours we spent wandering around to different colleges (departments) and joking around with one another. All of our friends on this trip spoke fluent English so it Is very easy to communicate freely and with ample sarcasm. David joked that we are corrupting poor little Mariam, but as for Muhammad and Sina, they got just as sarcastic palates as us. We had a blast just walking around and taking pictures of one another. At one point a group of rowdy guys made us photograph them with David saying they were “Barack Obama” and “Mubarek,” who would have thought Hashemite had so many influential people studying there…
Upon return to Amman Muhammad, Munir, David, and I took off to first circle to meet some CIEE friends at a bar called Amigos. Mariam and Sina took off to go home because they have a very early curfew and are not allowed to such establishments. Amigo’s was interesting. Essentially it turned into another situation of Westerners congregating to do what we do back home: get drunk. Not my cup of Shae (tea). It was however, quite amusing to watch Muhammad (who has been drunk 3 times in his life) get silly off of two drinks. About an hour in Muhammad got a text to go to a café called books@cafe where his friends were. Wanting to shake the growing happy hour crowd of 30 CIEE students David and I accompanied (more like carried) him to the café.
Books@cafe turned out to be even worse than Amigos, if you can imagine. It was an interesting idea for a café; the entrance is a bookshop with a small flight of stairs leading up to a luxurious café with loud music, loud people, seductive lights, and an attractive atmosphere. I learned later that this spot is known as the “gay” café in Jordan, because the owner is gay (I didn’t get this feeling, I actually thought it was probably the most hipster thing I’d found in Jordan so far). Anyways, we arrived to find that the place was jam packed, there was no room to sit with Muhammad’s friends (who were gorgeous African princesses!!) and we got placed in a room where we couldn’t even smoke argila, although they allowed everyone around us to blow stinky cigarette smoke in our faces (really logical).
The night was a bit disappointing but a good lesson for Amman weekend activities. The next day I slept in and met up with David to go to the gym. Afterwards we met his friend Sarah, who lives in the outskirts of Amman. Sarah brought us to first circle to meet her friends Yeza and Dina. The three were very nice, but obviously came from very wealthy backgrounds. All three drove brand new prius’ or civics and they brought us to a café where a shae cost 3 dinar. Afterwards they brought us to a bar called AlKalla (I think) where we had a glass of wine and talked about the best place to go for spring break. My friend Becca and I have decided it’s going to be Turkey (for now). The night progressed as we jumped from place to place to meet other well to do Jordanians who had either studied in Montreal, the US, or England. Everyone we met was very nice and generous, but what I learned the most from this night was the astounding divide in social classes in Amman.These kids had all studied abroad at private universities and were all in their mid 20s. They all had brand new cars and steady jobs. If I based my whole trip on this one experience I would have thought I was at Skidmore College in Jordan. David and I rode home that night thankful for having such connections, but with pretty empty wallets. We decided we would save time with these friends to once a month so as not to burn through our bank accounts in 2 weeks.
Today (Saturday) was the best day I’ve had in Amman so far. I slept in till 10:30 and woke up to a beautiful breakfast prepared by Salim, per usual. Then I took off to meet my friend Huda at the Halifa building (where CIEE is located). We met and caught a bus downtown to go have my first sample of Hashims (an old restaurant famous for having the best hummus and falafel in Jordan). Hashims was nothing like what I expected. It was very run-down, with plastic tables and chairs scattered in between an alley and under a slight over-hang. The food was fantastic! The best falafel I’ve had so far in Jordan, and the sabaha (like hummus) blew my mind! To top it all off the meal was one of the cheapest I’ve had here so far.
After Hashims Huda and I wandered the streets stopping at street vendors to peruse. I bought Huda 6 DVDs for 5 JD so she could experience my favorite films and David some prayer beads that he’d been craving. I tried to find some classical piano CDs for Salim, but Jordanians have a complete lack of interest for classical music so I failed in this venture. After lunch we got Kenafi (a traditional Jordanian desert that has some orange topping and cheese in the middle). While we were sitting Huda and I were approached by two cute little girls who I assumed were just playing while their parents ate. Turned out they were street peddlers. The girls immediately won my heart after telling me that I had beautiful eyes and I managed to convince them to pose for a picture with Huda (for half a JD). After our meal Huda and I went to my favorite café Gafra where we had argila and talked about life. I met one of the servers who was replenishing our (fahem) coals. He told me he was a free lance photographer for magazines and was hoping to be making a trip to New York City soon for a job.
At the end of the day Huda brought me back to Raghadan bus station and I navigated my way home. The day was everything I was looking for here and I’m glad to have spent a weekend in Amman. I truly experienced two social classes throughout the weekend. There were the Prius driving, 3 JD shae drinking kids in 1st circle and there was the bus riding, Hashims eating trip with Huda to Jabal Amman. Knowing myself I’m not surprised that I enjoyed the latter more. While walking around the Raghadan bus station, Huda pointed out a social welfare building where she had volunteered the year before. She said she had volunteered to visit low income families and asses whether or not they would receive government aid. I was stunned by how much I have learned about Huda, who is quickly becoming my best friend in Jordan. I’ve learned that she is top of her class, has already seen a patient die, worked at Burger King, and volunteered for the needy. She has truly inspired me to study and work harder during my time in Amman.
Finally falling into a groove in Amman. I sleep in, I go out, and I feel pretty normal. I'm continuing to make great friends and have great inter-cultural conversations. On Thursday David, Muhammad, Maria, Shadha, and I went to a cafe called Doors. I found it pretty ironic because it is named after The Doors and has pictures of Jim Morrison everywhere, but it plays top 40 songs by Akon and such. I bet if I were to ask any person working at the cafe they would be hard pressed to name a single song by the doors. Apart from this, the experience was interesting and fun.
Shadha (as you may remember) is moving to Tennessee to be married in 2 months. She is Mariam's student and her English is poor. While we were ordering argila and drinks she whispered to David and I that she wanted us to take her to a bar this weekend, have a beer, and dance. This is HARAM for Muslims so David and I found it very funny. It seems that Shadha may have a bit of a crush on the two of us and it is unclear what her intentions are; however, we are not opposed to introducing her to Western culture and lifestyle. Multiple times now she has called me Jameel (beautiful) and told David and I that our long messy hair is pretty. I think that Shadha is going through a moral dilemma from the prospect of her new life in the states. Granted, I don’t know her well, but it is uncharacteristic of a (good) Muslim to ask to go dancing and drinking….We did not end up taking her out, maybe if she presses us harder we will. It is a strange situation because she asked us not to tell anyone else who was with us. I assume out of fear of looking bad in front of her Muslim acquaintances.
Mariam, on the other hand is a great girl, with very good values. She explained to David and I her 3 rules and wishes for her future husband and how she would never have a boyfriend that wasn't leading to husbandry (which is unfortunate because I find her adorable). She is taking David and I to Hashemite University this Thursday to hang out with all her sister’s friends there. We are both looking forward to this as a chance to make new Arab friends and spend more time with Mariam and Muhammad who are the coolest people ever. Shadha and Mariam define a duality of Muslim women that I am observing in Amman. Most girls wear the Hijab, but this really defines nothing about them. The hijab is cultural long before it is religious. You can find a Muslim girl wearing tight jeans that accentuate her curves, a tight shirt, and then a hijab on top. You can also find well dressed, but modest and respectable girls like Shadha and Huda that dress as conservative as their values.
This situation of two Muslim girls being so contradictory lead to a very interesting conversation with Muhammad (who is from a small African country I'd never heard of by Sudan and Somalia) about the contradictions of Arab society. David, Muhammad, and I hashed out for hours after the girls left what is cultural and what is religious in Arab societies, how they differ from country to country, and how this relates to being a sinner. At the end of the conversation all of us felt much closer and had a deep respect for one another although all our values differed we all saw each other as moral people. Muhammad explained that he has sinned in his life but he has not made the worst sins you can as a Muslim. Compared to David and I, Muhammad is a saint. David and I (coming from a much more liberal ideology) explained that even though we drink and partake in other activities considered to be sinful that we still have self-respect and believe that we are good people. From the whole conversation I perceived a motif of contradiction. I am sure I will use this word a hyperbolic amount of times in blogs to come because it is the over-arching theme of my experiences in Jordan. Muslim culture and modernity contradict, gender roles here contradict themselves, and people I meet constantly contradict themselves. Can a culturally Arab (and Muslim) society modernize? Muhammad seems to think that Jordan becomes less and less cultural and in relation moral, every 5 years and that the country is on a path to complete Westernization. I'm not sure how I feel about this quite yet. I will journal it personally and maybe come back to it by the end of my travels.
On Friday CIEE took a group of students who signed up and paid 20 JD for a biking trip "to the Dead Sea." I have to say it was pretty disappointing as we never even saw the Dead Sea. It was, however, nice to get some physical activity and see the Jordanian countryside. We passed many farmers and goat herders. At the end of the night we went to the tour group’s house and ate delicious beef and chicken Kebabs while drinking lemon mint smoothies (my new favorite drink). A young boy (about 3 or 4) provided entertainment as he literally speed between our legs on his mini bicycle (not tricycle!). So far, Arab hospitality has proven to far exceed anyone else in the world that I have met.
On Saturday CIEE took us on the Desert Castles trip, which was again a bit of a disappointment. Castles here as my friend David likes to put it "is a loose term." They were more like outposts, half of which were rebuilt and not very authentic. The best part, however, is that you can climb all over them, unlike in Western countries Jordan has very loose laws for historical sites. As you will see in some pictures I got to climb to the roof and snap some shots of friends down below. The country-side was barren as we speed along well-kept roads throughout East Jordan. At one point we stopped to snap a photo of the border to Iraq which we drove right by! Thank god there weren’t any Mujahedeen waiting for us…
Yesterday I went to a Café with Huda again. She is quickly becoming one of my best friends here. She told me that she has many colleagues and acquaintances but no best friends at University or in Jordan. She told me she has had trouble finding someone she can trust, but that she thinks I am a very honest person. She told me that she trusts me and that I am, right now, the friend she spends the most time with. We spent the time discussing love, my past relationships, and her one past relationship. We played games, and I told her I was going to buy her a chessboard and teach her how to play. Huda is a great friend because she always brings me a gift that she has put some thought in to. Yesterday she brought two small hard candies, one orange and one red, her favorite colors (which I remembered from our first coffee).
This weekend a new friend from CIEE and I decided to create a blog called “White Boys in Kafias” (the scarves worn in the Middle East (whose name I spelled terribly wrong)). I will post a link once it is up and running. We are meeting Tuesday night at a café downtown to build the sight. It should be pretty funny, because people like David and I (white boys) really struggle with pulling off the Kafia look.
Yesterday and today it rained a lot (yay!). However, this means everything is delayed 30 minutes. In Jordan people don’t know what to do in the rain. This is funny for me as a Vermonter. People literally throw 5 layers on, wear boots, a rain coat, and an umbrella. They run around like chickens with their heads cut off, and the taxis start freaking out. Traffic immediately stops in all directions and taxis decide not to pick anyone up. Although I like the cold weather now, I got to say I’m looking forward to a dryer climate where rain delays don’t exist. The only benefit is professors not showing up for class (like this morning).
The last few days have flown by for me. I always feel as if I have so much I want to reflect on, but have so little time. I have an Imte7an (exam(oh and the 7 is Arabeezee which I learned from Huda the other day)) tomorrow morning at 9am, but instead of studying more I’m going to reflect. If there is anything I am learning from studying in a foreign country so far, it is that your experiences with the locals make up your education. Classes are important yes, and for me very hard and time consuming, but it doesn’t even come close to the thrill of human interaction.
Today I met my peer tutor, his name is Abdullah (like the king). Abdullah is a big guy, 5th year student, studying to be an electrical engineer. His parents are Palestinian refugees, and he was born in England where he spent the first 7 months of baby-hood. He spent no time getting down to busy with me about politics. After exchanging names and some friendly remarks he quickly jumped to the question, “how do you feel about Israel and Palestine?” I’ve had this conversation a few times with Arab friends, but it was never put so boldly and by such a huge intimidating guy. I quickly realized that I was having my first experience as an American diplomat. Being a diplomat, I responded to his question with a question. “What do you think?” I asked. He seemed slightly taken aback and quickly went into a spiel about how Palestinians had been living in Palestine for thousands of years before the Israelis and that what was done was wrong. I agreed.
Keep in mind I am no expert on the Israeli Palestinian conflict. In the past when my studies have veered in this direction I have kept my mouth shut and my hand down (very irregular for me). The reason is this. There are two (to generalize, in actually there are millions) stories of this conflict. These two stories tend to contradict each other in every fact, and from what I’ve learned they are both true. So how can a boy from Vermont come to decide who is right, who is wrong, and who he will support. This in mind, Abdullah and I continued.
I told him that what happened to the Palestinian people was wrong. I explained that both “Palestinians” and the Jews had inhabited Jerusalem and other parts of modern day Israel for thousands of years, both living autonomously. I told him that as I understood it, both groups of people have been victims of each other and of the rest of the world. Jews, had have been persecuted by the Arabs and fled to Europe, then persecuted by the Europeans and fled to the Middle East. Arabs living in the region of Palestine had also been wronged by having their land unfairly taken away. As I’m learning from my professor Dr. Zubi Al’Zubi (yes best name ever I know, I call him Zubs..not to his face) the British made many alliances during World War I that contradicted themselves; they promised land to the Zionists that they simultaneously offered to the Jews. My argument went on as thus, trying to play “mediator” for a young man who was obviously very biased. I’m skipping the Zionist conspiracy theories, because honestly I can’t bear to verbally combat another conspiracy, or try to explain how to in this blog; let’s just say that Arabs love their conspiracies about the Jews.
A few quick examples:
·There’s a secret tunnel below the US and Israeli embassy in Amman
·PEPSI stands for Pay Every Penny for the Sake of Israel.
·The Coca-Cola brand text upside down spells something like death to Muhammad.
The list goes on….I’ll save more for comedic breaks in future blogs. Anyways, eventually he asked: “What is the solution?” This time I replied with an answer: this is the million dollar question I said. If I were in charge of this (inshallah I never will be) I told him I would have Jordan and Israel begin with a shared resource slash economic bond. I would also have Israel halt its continued resettlements and fund organizations which help resettle Palestinian refugee in Jordan and assist the Jordanian economy in compensating all the refugees. I told him my hope would be that one day Jordan and Israel could come to lift the border control between countries and allow free movement and sharing of goods. That hopefully in hundreds of years the grandchildren’s grandchildren could move back to “Palestine” and live within Israel. HA HA aren’t I funny. This was my response, I do know it is Idealist and I honestly don’t have an answer. No one does. But this is what I spit out when put on the spot, so after emberassing my starry-eyed self I asked him the same question and got the predictable response:
“Kick all the Jews out and return all Palestinians to their rightful home.” God to I wish I had a Dinar every time I heard this “solution.” By no means do I wish to belittle his solution or say he is wrong in believing this. He is a child of Palestinian parents, he has been robbed of the beautiful land of Palestine. However, his answer was about as realistic as mine. I tried explaining to him that the first removal of Palestinians from the holy land was the worst solution to a Zionist problem, and that to repeat history would be to make the same mistake again. I tried making the terrible simile of there being another “Abdullah” (but with a Jewish name) who would be wronged by being uprooted and removed from his home…this explanation didn’t take hold or do any convincing. Eventually a friend of his walked over and distracted him and then he had to go to lab. Phwew, I have time to reformulate my ideas and opinions and tomorrow try to refine them, but in Arabic. Oh lovely day.
Although I do cherish experiences like this they bring me down a little. They show me how hard it is to get people to think unemotionally, and objectively. Of course I was not persecuted or uprooted from my home, was never moved to a country with a lack of jobs, resources, and undemocratic government, so I will not judge, I will only listen, and then of course, blog.
Later today after my peer tutor meeting I got a pretty awesome cab ride back from the gym. Did I mention that I’m training to run a marathon already? I thought it was only a 5k leg, but turns out I’ll have to do five, 5k legs…so yeah, I need to stop smoking argila and get my ass in shape. Anyways, this cab driver named Samir had a nice ol’ time correcting the way I said Al’Jame3 (3 is an aiyn) the entire ride. He told me I had asked him to go to the Mosque not university (this would explain oh so many confusing cab rides home). I asked him to correct me and thus proceeded the most frustrating Arabic lesson so far. First he would say Al’jame3 and say it meant mosque and then say the exact same thing and say it meant university. Yet every time I tried to say Al’jame3 he would say LA! (NO!) I eventually got it, but it was a nice reminder that the language I’m learning has words that have a difference in one vowel and this vowel means EVERYTHING. I wonder if learning English is this hard? I know French isn’t…
Boy did I have a crazy weekend. Thursday afternoon three friends and I caught a Taxi to Madeba which cost us 12 JD. There we met up with 6 other friends and decided to spend the day touring historical sites. Madeba is well known for its mosaics and for good reason. The taxi driver dropped us off next to the Church of Apostles where we snapped photos of a huge mosaic depicting animals, designs, and the 12 apostles. Afterwards we took a walking tour suggested by Lonely Planet around Madeba to other historical sites. Mostly we visited different churches such as St. George’s Church and snapped photos of beautiful artwork and architecture. The city of Madeba has a population of 70,000 one-third of which is Christian, so it is known as a very religiously open community. I found this to be true when we stopped at a liquor store across from our hotel later in the evening. We met aChristian man working the front desk who had grown up in Madeba. We purchased some Lebanese Arak (essentially the Everclear of the Middle East) and brought it back up to the hotel room to sample. Imagine a Jager-like licorice taste coupled with mint and about as alcoholic as legally possible and that’s Arak for you.
The next day we slept in and got up at 9:30am for a free breakfast and to check out of the hotel. The hotel rooms had four beds in them and we managed to only spend 12.50 JD each for the night. The eight of us who stayed at the hotel grabbed two taxis and headed off to Ma’in. Along the way our Saeg (Taxi driver) stopped to allow us to take pictures of the Dead Sea which we could see from a distance. I was amazed to see just how Mediteranean the landscap was as we left Madeba. We passed vineyards and goats, and sheep; however, half-way there (out of no where) the landscape turned into dry gravely hills. Looking over these hills from the winding road off to the West was the Dead Sea, looking quite frankly very dead.
After this 30 Kilometer ride we arrived at Ma’in an area famous for its hot springs and gorgeous resort. Two of our friends had stayed the night in a very expensive hotel room at the resort so we were allowed on the property of the resort to smoke Argila and relax. Admission to the hot springs cost us only 10 JD and the taxi ride there and back was 30 JD split between 4 people. At the hot springs our lady travelers attracted many tsk’s from mothers and lascivious gazes from young men. We found that the pools were segregated into the “ladies pool” “family pool” (where single men are not advised to go) and a “public pool” which was mostly men and women fully clothed or wearing wet suite like swim wear. Sitting in one of the pools we met a man named Mike who had live in the states for 11 years and spoke great English. Mike and his brother (who only spoke Arabic) could not take their eyes off of our lady travelers and continually commented on how beautiful they were and asked whether they were engaged or married. I felt bad for the girls, but you can really only laugh to yourself about comments like this. If anything, it’s a good confidence booster!
Arriving back in Madeba we caught a bus back to Amman which cost us only 1 JD a piece. I arrived back tired but relaxed. Joe, who hadn’t been able to come on the trip was ready to go out to Club G with Fawzi and Fadhi but most of the people who had planned on going bailed. That day Mubarak had finally stepped down and our program providers asked us not to go out. After talking with our host family at length about why on earth we couldn’t go, we were convinced that it would be perfectly safe. So, Joe and I took off the 7th circle to meet our only two friends willing to go out and hit up Jordan’s night life.
I discovered that nightlife in Amman is very exclusive. Beforehand, Fawzi had put our names on the list for the club, but had he not; we never would have gotten inside. Inside, we found a very sleek and modern looking night club. We had arrived early so we grabbed seats at the bar and watched as scantily clad women, and well dressed men walked in. The dresses were what you would expect to see at clubs in America, low-cut backs, and skinny straps, very scandalous. Drinks at the bar were a minimum of 7 JD and a bottle was at the cheapest 82 JD so I was on a very tight budget. The DJ was spinning very progressive techno, and dance music which sounded great. At one point, I talked my way into the VIP lounge and even got a lesson in lighting from the man running the light system. Over-all the night was not what I expected to experience in Amman. Although I enjoyed myself I’m not sure I want to continue going to clubs in Amman. For one, navigating yourself home a little tipsy or drunk is extremely challenging and for two I didn’t experience any cultural interactions: almost every person there seemed quite wealthy and aloof, not at all interested in the young American boy.
Today is Sunday and I just had my first class in my new Arabic level. I got bumped down to Beginners II, inshallah this is right for me. My professor is gorgeous though, so I am happy to have been moved for this reason alone ;). Today I hope to get some studying done for my first exam in Amia tomorrow.
