"Mata Rajil Hardaan, Lazim Ahn Sayukun Saakin"--When A Man Is Angry, You Must be Quiet"

Throughout my study of other cultures and religions, I have always been weary of condemning others' practices too quickly, instead trying to keep in mind differing societal values and expectations. Living with a home stay family, you are no longer merely observing these practices from a distance, rather, you are thrust right into the middle of them, and are often forced to interact and deal with those possessing values in stark contrast to your own. Nonetheless, as I continue to grow more familiar with my family, I have become somewhat disillusioned, if not a bit saddened, by the sense of male entitlement and gender roles that dictate the relationship between my host parents. At one point this past weekend, World War III, family-politics style, erupted between my host father and host maternal grandmother, who, unbeknownst to me, have a long-standing feud over numerous issues. Triggering the recent outburst was a small, irrelevant decision related to where myself and another SIT student in the grandmother's home would eat dinner--the grandmother made the decision unilaterally, and the father's pride was irreversibly bruised--he felt as though since he is responsible and liable for my well-being while in Jordan, all decisions regarding me, no matter how large or small, must pass through him. Certainly, I am appreciate of his sense of responsibility for my welfare, however, seeing the way he handled the conflict with his female relatives was very unappetizing--though our academic director warned us that Arabs are "always shouting, and this doesn't always mean they're angry", he takes this to an extreme, is very easily agitated,and conducts probably 70-80% of his interactions with my host mother in a loud, abrasive, confrontational tone.

While recovering from his bruised ego (I of course had no idea I had done anything to cause the conflict, as the relatives will often yell at each other in rapid-fire colloquial, making it hard for me to understand anything. I also didn't find it appropriate to thwart the suggestion of my host grandmother. Had he merely explained to me what the issue was at the time, it could have been avoided altogether...) the entire family was walking on eggshells; at one point, my mother turned to me and and said "When a man is angry, you must  be quiet...and then go and beg for his forgiveness. Eventually, he will come back to you and apologize as well." My host mother is a wonderful, vivacious, warm person, yet seeing her in this marriage is frankly depressing! She is becoming more open about it, but seems more or less resigned--the other day she urged me not to get married anytime soon (no worries there!) and to make a proper contract (literal or figurative) before tying the knot.

"All day, all night...I'm doing housework, and it's hard work!"

"What, he doesn't help you at all?"

"The only way he helps is by making the house messy!"

Whenever my host father comes home, regardless of the time of day, he expects her to drop everything to cook a meal for him. When they wake up in the morning, the first thing she must do is iron whatever shirt he chooses to wear. As he is the breadwinner, everything is his, and all her needs must  be accommodated around his schedule, which so far as I can tell  involves not a whole lot of work, but a fair amount of time smoking shisha with his friends. He comes and goes at any time of the day without consulting her, often stranding her at home with no car. It is, in no sense I can see, an equitable relationship. While I don't think there's anything wrong with a woman who wants to stay home and be a homemaker and care for her husband, the constant condescension and unpleasantness with which he treats her only serves to reinforce what I see as a fundamentally unequal relationship.

She has become more and more open with me, and has said everyone in her family can't stand him and tells her to divorce him and come live in the family home again, but she feels it is important for her son to have his father around, and puts up with her husband because of it. Divorce is not entirely uncommon here, my father's parents are in fact divorced and remarried, but though my mother complains about him (rightfully) to no end, when I asked her if she would consider divorcing him when her son was older, she said she wouldn't.

Nevertheless, she acknowledges longstanding problems between them, most of which he refuses to discuss, and expresses boredom with her life--all day, everyday, in the house, cleaning and cooking and doing laundry, only to repeat the same the next day. I must say, it would drive me absolutely insane. Let me emphasize that I'm not attributing the dynamics of their relationship to anything related to Islam--I think it has a bit to do with Arab culture, but more to do with the huge age gap between them (15 years), the age at which she married him (19), and the fundamental (perceived) power relations that come with those facts. Marriage and motherhood are widely upheld here as the most important achievements in a woman's life, yet the pursuit of those very goals has placed so many restrictions on her life, at such a young age. In a sense, her entire future was spelled out before she started her third decade. 

Our lectures this week have turned away from the political system and more towards women's issues in Jordan--a subject about which I am trying to maintain an open mind, given all I've been observing at home. While our teacher is a beautiful, highly-educated, unmarried and uncovered woman who works for the UN here, she is definitely the exception as opposed to the rule, from everything I have seen here. I am curious, though somewhat skeptical, that my coming week in the rural areas will push my views in the other direction, though one of our teachers insists that in the Badia, women in fact play the dominant role within the household. What is most frustrating is hearing that it is not that the laws of society mandate or advocate gender norms like the ones described above, but rather that women, from a young age, are taught not to want more than to be a good mother and wife, which functionally drives self-discrimination for women attempting to reach high positions within the public sphere. Beginning to feel powerful feelings of adoration for the United States....

al-Fowda. al-Sebbab? al-Jow (Chaos. The reason? the weather!)

I'm writing having just returned from a massive expedition to numerous corner stores, supermarkets, nut shops, fruit stands, and bakeries. At any minute now, it may begin snowing--as a result, the public is in a state of chaos, and everyone is scrambling to stock up on as much food as humanly possible before the entire city shuts down during the unusual weather. Unlike Boston, where snow plows eagerly anticipate every weather.com update, Amman has no contingency plan for true winter weather whatsoever, and I'm crossing my thumbs (individually) while we're all pleading with Allah (collectively) for a solid day of thelj (snow) and an automatic aowtla (vacation). Right now the wind is howling, and it was raining and hailing earlier, so we'll see what's happened by the morning. While out with Maha, there was absolute chaos in the streets, flooding, and a general disregard for lanes, parking spots, and the poor, bedraggled traffic cops, who I think may hold one of the worst jobs in Jordan. We weren't innocent ourselves either--in the middle of a main, commercial road, we double-parked our car for a good ten minutes while running into the jam-packed bakery to stock up on pita for the next few days. While in America the police would immediately ticket and probably tow the car, Maha left her vehicle in plain sight of a traffic cop, who simply stood in front of the vehicle in our absence, gesturing traffic around it while we were in the shop. Even in the pouring rain on a freezing night filled with car accidents and traffic james, people are still willing to do a favor for one another. Mumtaz.

While the periphery movements of my new life have begun to become familiar and routine, I am still finding myself very challenged linguistically. On one of our first days, our program discussed the notion of "comfort vs. crisis"--namely, that all of us would be pushing ourselves, or being pushed, for that matter, far out of our comfort zones by virtue of our new surroundings, and it was up to us to make sure we were pushed out of our comfort zones, but into our "crisis zones" (easier said than done, sometimes). The sheer amount of energy it takes to be constantly engaged in trying to translate all the colloquial Arabic that is going on at all times is draining, and sometimes, I find myself tuning out when I shouldn't be. Maha and I do pretty well when it's just the two of us, and we can take our time figuring out what the other means, but in group situations, when words I've never heard before are being thrown around at a rapid-fire pace, I've found myself giving up more than I should be, especially when another English speaker is nearby. Although I imagine the vast majority of the other SIT students to be doing just the same, if not worse, because of their significantly smaller background in the language, I still chide myself for not pushing myself a little more towards the crisis zone. Though Maha is delighted to have a free English and French tutor, I am realizing I need to put myself out there more, and be willing to make more mistakes, so as to continue to push myself to achieve the language goals I've set for myself. Don't get me wrong, I am learning tons and tons of Arabic, but there are still times when I take refuge in English, when I shouldn't. It all continues as a challenge.

In my classes, we are beginning to develop and redefine our topics for our two major assignments, outside of Arabic classes, for the semester. The culmination of my academic work will be the Independent Study Project (ISP), while before that, we will complete a "mega-assignment"--another project designed  to strengthen our research skills before embarking on the ISP. We have had two lecturers come thus far, one the former president of nearby Yarmouk University, to discuss the Modern History and Political System in Jordan, and another, a political analyst from the Center for Strategic Studies at the University of Jordan, to discuss Political Islam within the region. The tow men could not have been more different: the first, an older man of Bedouin origin with less than perfect English skills, completely defied everything I have come to expect in an academic--namely, a certain level of objectivity, and a willingness to address multiple sides of an issue. Perhaps I was naive in this assumption. The man gave a decently informative lecture on Jordanian history, which naturally covered all the Arab-Israeli wars, but as soon as the discussion was opened up to student questions, he became, to put it frankly, a bit of a raving lunatic, completely ignoring the substance of students' questions, and instead embarking on a heated anti-American, and arguably anti-Semetic, tirade. Not only did he refuse to answer any question regarding the interests of the Jordanian government, but he also refused to admit, or even discuss the possibility of any Arab wrong-doing or miscalculation in any scenario, past or present. I asked him, at one point, in a very neutral tone, if he would discuss the first Abdullah's communications and relations with the Jewish community in Palestine pre-1948, a subject which has been widely acknowledged and written about. Instead of acknowledging Abdullah's aspirations for a greater Transjordanian  state, with the involvement of the Jews as a potential partner, arguably at the expense of the Palestinians in terms of political self-determination, he essentially refused to acknowledge any sort of partnership between the two entities, instead insisting that Abdullah foresaw the creation of the Jewish state and was merely trying to lure them into containment in order to ensure Palestinian sovereignty in the area (a rather tame answer, relative to some others that he gave). As the lecture went on, he became increasingly loud and erratic, and basically lost all academic credibility. Contrasted with the other man, who instead of preaching to us, delivered a fairly tame, data-based lecture on public opinion regarding Islamist political parties within the region, stopping at every opportunity to reiterate that he did not agree with Hamas' policies and had many Jewish friends, it seems that the two were polar opposites within the Jordanian academic spectrum, some of whom perceive the opportunity to lecture to a group of American students as an opportunity to push their personal beliefs on a group of uninformed students, while others are overly-eager to emphasize the similarities between Americans and Jordanians, and the good rapport between them. At either end of the spectrum, it is sometimes difficult to get the full picture on any given issue. I will say though, that even the first guy, in between his diatribes about the "greedy, sneaky Zionists" and the "American imperialists" (yes, this was a well-published Sorbonne-educated, influential academic), still insisted that in truth, Jordanians did want democracy, and no matter what the King may try to emphasize to the Americans in terms of democratic reform in the country, it was just a front to get foreign aid, and he had no real plans to let go of his power. Though for the most part, you hear only good things about the King from the locals, it is usually Jordanians of Palestinian origin who will speak against him, hardly ever Jordanians of bedouin origin, so that was a bit surprising to hear. Nonetheless, there are a lot of kids who haven't had many classes specifically dealing with the history and politics that have affected Jordan, and some seemed to be soaking up everything the first was saying---one even said something along the lines of "well, I mean, this guy has been researching this stuff for years, maybe he's right, maybe all the problems in the Middle East are our fault"....it's a dangerous thing, to have only one perspective....

Regardless, I sought out the second lecturer after his talk to discuss my ISP topic ideas, and in addition to having done a lot of work with some of my Brandeis professors (not surprisingly, Shikaki and Abdul Monem), he said my ideas were good, I should refine them more, and when I was ready to make an appointment with him to discuss potential interviews. SIT brings in lecturers on a wide variety of subjects concerning our program theme ("modernization and social change"), and then students are asked to pick from among them (or seek outside sources) for an academic advisor for their topic. I'm sticking with what I came to Jordan with: Evolving Sectarian Relations in the Public and Private Sphere of Jordan since the Iraq War. There are a number of directions I can take with this, identifying indicators of civil instability, contrasting government refugee policy for the Iraqis with the Palestinian precedent, of course interviewing people on either side of the divide...but from what I can tell, the cultural gap between the two sects seems pretty wide here, probably because there has never been any sort of sizeable Shiite population here, until the influx of Iraqi refugees, about 40% of which are Shiite, according to the lecturer. My academic director at SIT, a Sunni of Bedouin origin, remarked that until meeting his first Shi'a a few years ago, he had thought his entire life that they were kafirs (unbelievers), and that they held all these far-fetched religious notions, none of which were true. Anyway, it is nice to have a topic, and an encouraging advisor, so soon in the semester. I am a bit clueless for what I want to do for the other project, but am considering studying the developing dance scene in Jordan as an extension of the inclusion of performing arts curriculum and creating learning in Jordanian schools. In order to reengage with the arts (it's been too long!) my friend Tanya and I are going to our first belly-dancing class tomorrow evening (yesss) and I'm also going to a big Islamic music festival this weekend, both of which I'm excited for. Through various contacts I've been put in touch with the head of the dance department at a local prep school, and he is keeping me informed on the numerous international choreography and dance workshops that are happening in Amman, some of which I hope to participate in soon.

A few quick notes before I sign off:

Best new discovery: Chocolate Halawa, or in my mind, Arab Nutella. Sweet Tahini, mixed with chocolate, spread on warm pita=heavenly

Quickly approaching: 5-day rural homestay in the Badia region, where I'll be wearing hijab the whole time. Some of the other students in my group ventured out to the countryside this past weekend to see some Roman ruins and befriended some local Bedouins, who escorted them out to their sheep farm and cooked them dinner, shared their stories, and were apparently incredibly hospitable. I suppose I've known I'll be wearing the headscarf there for awhile now, but as it approaches, I'm becoming more and more curious as to what the veiled experience will be like. Another girl on my program who studied in Yemen and has worn niqab before (full face/eyes/body everything) assured me I wouldn't even notice it, which will probably be the case after a few hours, but it will be interesting nonetheless. 

Lastly: SIT has a wonderful coordinator for the Arabic program, Khulud, who is also a close friend of my family, and incredibly well-connected. As part of our colloquial training, she invited in ten young Arabs for us to interview and test out our new lingo. Afterwards, the different levels merged and the guests told us about Yella Talk (Yella in arabic means "lets go", among other things), an interfaith  and intercultural dialogue group that they're all members of that facilitates communication across religious, sectarian, ethnic and national lines. Khulud is of Palestinian origin and told us she had never encountered any Jewish person other than IDF soldiers who hassled her  every time she tried to go to the West Bank from Jordan, until she met a young American in one of her many teaching locations in Amman. She developed a genuine friendship with him long before she knew he was Jewish (he subsequently went on to publish a book about his experiences in Amman called "Live from Jordan", which has become quite popular), and when she did find out about his faith, she said it changed her life, forever. She went on to form Yella Talk, which has been in operation in Amman for the past few years, and they are trying to spread the group throughout the region. After encountering a lot of close-minded people, it is heart-warming to know that there is a younger generation that feels differently from its predecessors. 

Now, hamam-time in case the thelj doesn't come through and there's madrassa tomorrow...Goodbye for now.

Heflat Kabeera wa Izdiham Katheer (Big Parties and Heavy Traffic)

Keeping up with this blog with such sporadic internet has become a bit of a challenge! Much has happened over the past few days--there is a bit of unrest among the Jordanian public because the King decided to end oil subsidies, and as a result, the cost of gas has risen significantly, directly affecting all sorts of transportation, as well as heating. Perhaps in reaction to this, there has been price inflation across the board over the past few weeks, against a backdrop of rising inflation over the past few years due to the influx of Iraqi refugees into the country. We're all giving the taxi drivers a few extra piastres, and everything seems to be fine. 

Yesterday I began to feel my first bout of homesickness, and my head was definitely elsewhere in classes today. One of my professors, as an illustration of some cross-cultural education concept (don't even get me started on SIT's whole schpiel with this stuff...I'm so over discussion yellow box problems (putting an object in the middle of a group, asking different people to describe what they see, arguing in circles for hours on end on the inevitability of personal interpretation and the value of differing perspectives), asked why, in America, when watching movies, popcorn was always included in the scenario, and why not something more tasty? After classes, in response to this, I dragged a few of my classmates to Safeway with me (yes, they have Safeway here, and it is way better than in California! Two stories with furniture, huge barrles of spices...etc etc) to get some staples to remind me of home a bit. I walked away with Splenda, microwave popcorn, flax banana almond cereal, soy milk, baby carrots...all the essentials you would never find in an Arab household. I was surprised, but happy, to find many of the same projects you'd find at any Trader Joe's in the States.

In connection with this, however, was my first (self-acknowledged) incident of me being a stupid tourist, which occurred when I somehow left my cell phone in the taxi that had brought us to Safeway. Hana discovered this only when she tried to call me, and a man picked up, who she thought was her host dad, and proceeded to call him Baba. Luckily, the driver was very nice, and offered to come bring it back to me at the Safeway after he finished his prayers at the masjid. Ten points for incredibly nice cab drivers--I doubt that would ever happen in the US.

Many people on my program, myself included, have begun to become a little frustrated with the city and our living situations, in certain ways, namely that it is very hard to get around, and everything takes tons of time. I wake up at 7 every morning to get ready for classes, get to school around 8:30, and then have classes straight til around 4. Since our homestay families, especially those of girls, all want us home around 8, we have a short block of free time in which to do something additional, and as a result, it's hard to accomplish much of anything .If I run errands, then I can't go to the gym, If i go to the gym, then I can't go out with friends for shisha, etc etc. This brings me to my next subject...MEDINA AL-RIYADEEYAH, aka Sports City. So famous that its name extends to my entire neighborhood, this is a gigantic compound comprising of a full-size stadium, a mosque, an outdoor park for walking, and God knows what else, it is so huge that I initially thought it was the University of Jordan campus. After feeling perpetually gross as a result of the eating, sitting around, eating more, sitting around, that is endemic in the Jordanian lifestyle, I decided to check it out with my friend Will, who seems to enjoy his endorphins as much as I do. First off, there are armed guards EVERYWHERE in the compound, and some quite intimidating--however, once we identified the proper building the gym was in ("King Hussein Youth City") we found the security guards inside to be much more amiable. As far as I can tell, the Youth City is comprised of tons and tons of fully furnished foyers, ballrooms...lots of empty unused space that looks like it could be in a hotel, as weoll as tons and tons of metal detectors, none of which are switched on. The gym area itself is much more populated, and quite nice, and also has locker rooms with showers, sauna, etc--huge because some host families limit the amount of showers their students take per week (not mine, yet, but nonetheless). After joining yesterday, I went back for my first workout, hoping to jolt my metabolism. 

Observations: A) I'm not sure how new the whole coed gym thing is here, but....good lord, Arab men need to wear more deoderant!!! I'm usually not too hardcore at the gym, but after weathering the initial wave of body odor emanating from the guy next to me, I put my machine on an inordinately high level to ensure I would be constantly breathing through my mouth. B) Naturally, the gym had way more men than women in it, so I was naturally curious to see what the other women were up to (staring at them=a bit more appropriate than the men, though both are equally interesting). Aside from the other American girl there, on the whole, the other women at the gym seemed to be there..more for show than for exercise. Let's just say I seemed to be the only female in there breaking a sweat, which I think some of the men didn't know what to do with. I was befriended by one of the trainers, Ahmad, who kept trying to weigh me so he could assess which weights I should be using, despite my telling him multiple times that I didn't know my weight, didn't think it was important, and pretty much only did cardio. On the whole, the gym is a pretty intense environment but completely necessary in order to maintain my sanity here, I've decided. 

Aside from all of this, I have settled in with my family, and had a wonderful weekend with them--despite my frustration with things outside the house, I truly enjoy my time with them. Upon further investigation, I have realized that they are Palestinian, originally from Jaffa...in fact, most everyone's family is Palestinian, 70% of the population is Palestinian! Moreover, as Dad Ra'ed explained to me, the government made it so Palestinians are restricted to jobs in the economy, while the smaller Bedouin population is allowed to participate in the army and security services, so on the whole, the Palestinians are much more affluent. I was very, very lucky to be able to attend a huge family wedding on my first weekend with them, which pretty much was just like going to prom all over again. After initially being unable to go due to a lack of invitation, Maha and I stopped by the mother of the groom's house in our itinerary of Saturday social calls, and quickly secured an invitation from the groom himself, who we found sitting in the kitchen eating cereal--he said he wasn't nervous at all, but he would let us come so long as we promised to dance a lot since his wedding "was not for the old people" (he couldn't have been older than mid-twenties). Another person in the larger family circle who I've come to enjoy is Sarah, a 30 year old woman from Switzerland, originally a doctoral candidate at the University of Jordan, who befriended the family years ago and has since been somewhat adopted, and is over for dinner constantly. It is wonderful to have someone I can communicate with in English and French, and who has been in my position as a Westerner and a woman new in Jordan. On the whole, she is very funny, and blunt, and cannot stand how "everyone in Jordan likes to pretend certain things don't happen when everyone knows they do". Sarah is very low-maintenance, and so the ensuing preparations for the wedding that follwed were overwhelming for all involved. Jordanian women take dressing up VERY seriously, and before I knew it, Maha had dragged me, Sarah, Isabelle, and her younger sister Mais to the neighborhood salon, where tons of women were being done up---all looked more or less like bridezilla. HUGE curled hairdos sticking out from their heads, incredibly heavy makeup--we were debating which shawl I would wear to cover my shoulders, and my initial inclination was red--Maha then insisted I must then wear red eye makeup, so I decided to go with a more subtle pinkish gold (all has to match, nails included). In the end, the huge production was very worth it---the wedding was absolutely fantastic, (best buffet known to man), but quite different from your typical wedding in America--no wedding crashers here, since the bride and groom were from the same family so all the guests knew one another, and, the waiters came around with rows and rows of multi-colored sodas and juice---no alcohol was served. There were many traditional rituals involved in the ceremony, including shaving the beard of a groom (amidst chanting dancers), and bringing the bride into the banquet hall in a canopied throne carried by masked men! All in all, a very good weekend....

Ma3 al-Usra (With the Family)

It is now Sunday morning, and since I don't have internet at home, I haven't been able to post since Thursday. I wrote this on Thursday night, after spending my first afternoon and evening with my family--needless to say I was VERY overwhelmed. In order to maintain the proper progression, I'll post this now and then hopefully write another entry later in the day to catch everything up. Enjoy!

2/7/08

To say I am in culture shock right now would be a huge understatement. Whatever adjustments had to be made on a surface level over the past few d ays is no comparison to what I will be adapting to over the next few months. I had said earlier that I seemed to have more arabic training than many of the other students on hte program, but being around my host family for the past few hours has made me wonder how on earth someone who has had less, let alone no Arabic is surviving! My host mother, Maha, is very nice, but really speaks very little English--when it is just the two of us, we usually are able to figure out what the other is saying, but at times, come across a communication barrier. So far we have had either Ra'ed, my host father, or Isabelle, another SIT  student staying with Maha's mother who has had great Arabic traning in Yemen, to help us fill in the gaps. However, as the night wore on, and I became increasingly tired, it was harder and harder to keep with the frenetic pace of her speech--I need to be at full concentration at all times!

More than ever now, I am realizing the true magnitude of the challenge that lies ahead of me, and am somewhat intimidated, but very optimistic. Despite the frustration, I have already begun to see, in the  first day, the benefits of living with a family. Maha and Ra'ed live in a modest apartment building owned by Ra'ed's family in a tourist-free part of Amman--my room is formerly Daoud's, who Maha insists gets scared and refuses to sleep alone, so the room has been unused for a year, despite the mouse and cheese carpet, frog curtains, and Disney pictures that dot the walls. Though Maha insists that Daoud has wanted a sister, I think he is now coming to realize that his days as an only child may be over, and he spent most of the evening running around, screaming, and generally trying to be the center of attention in the most adorable way possible. After unpacking, we ewnt over to Maha's mother's house ,a much bigger apartment that houses Maha's parents, two brothers and two sisters in their late twenties, Maha's uncle, as well as a Sri Lankan maid, Camila. On a sidenote--before being picked up by our families today, our director made a big deal about not interfering with the maids--I remember being told by someone who had done the program before how uncomfortable she felt with the whole situation, that it was very exploitive, etc etc--apparently one former student felt this way to an extreme, somehow smuggled the maid to the airport with him/her to try to get her to the US, and the student is still in ongoing litigation with the family...ridiculous

At Maha's mother's house, I walked into the living room to find Mohammed ogling Arabic pop stars in surprisingly risque outfits on television (though he insists SHakira is his favorite and the only people who don't love her are the blind), while the older  genderation (mother, uncle) sat on the couch, smoking. It's a little disconcerting to be sitting with elderly women in hijab and their younger sons while watching Beyonce and Jay-Z music videos. The entire family is always talking at once, interrupting each other, yelling, on separate cell phone calls etc etc. simultaneously, which makes following conversation, in colloquial arabic, quite a challenge. An impromptu dining room was erected in the living room with the addition of a plastic picnic table, and out came the enormous platter of rice and chicken, salad and yogurt--needless to say my  appetite  doesn't match up to any of these people, and I am always being chastised for not eating enough. The sheer amount of food consumed in this country is insane, and though people often say Middle Eastern food is pretty healthy, the constant fried food, soda, sugar in the tea and coffee (I miss Splenda!) makes me think otherwise.

After much conversation and increasing fatigue, Isabelle and I were taken on an errand which turned out to be one of the most interesting of the day-tomorrow, there is a wedding in the extended family, and both Maha and her sister had ordered new traditional Jordanian outfits from a dressmaker who lived up in the jebels (hills) of Amman. The neighborhood reminded me a little bit of Fiesole near Florence--tons of zigzagging little streets packed with different shops, all open late at night with tons of foot traffic. Traveling as a group of five, we were escorted into the dressmaker's house, took our shoes off and went to sit down in a parlor while the sisters tried on their dresses. Inside, one Palestinian and one Jordanian, were warming their hands over a portable gas stove (a fixture in every household I've seen thus far, regardless of social class), while watching Al-Jazeera. Being a bit more adventurous with her Arabic and more alert than I was, Isabelle started trying to engage the women in a political discussion, and asked her what she thought of the situation in Israel. The women began a rapid-fire response that neither of us could understand, but after much revision, it was simply reduced to the fact that a) she hates the Jews b) there is nothing she can do for her people.

(At this point, I passed out...more to come later)

Fil al-Shawaariya3 (In the Streets)

Yesterday was a wonderful, wonderful day! After being more or less shell-shocked upon first arrival--jetlagged, culturally overwhelmed, etc. etc.--things have begun to settle down and I am beginning to feel more comfortable moving around the city. In the morning, we were broken up into groups of four and given a list of a few tasks in a certain neighborhood, where we were promptly dropped off, told to complete tasks, and find our way back to headquarters in 4 hours. My group had been assigned to somewhat of an artisans' district, and our tasks led us to a few craft boutiques overflowing with authentic Jordanian and Palestinian handicrafts--jewelry, embroidery, dresses, furniture, dishes, and the like. Ever conscious of trying to be respectful, I began tentatively questioning the shopkeepers in Arabic, usually to find them completely proficient in English! Throughout the different socioeconomic classes, (although of course somewhat less in the lower stratum), it is hard to find anyone completely ignorant of English. Nonetheless, as we more or less had no street map, we found ourselves getting around largely by asking directions of the locals, who, on the whole, were very very friendly. 

A few general observations:

a) stray cats, everywhere! they are beautiful, and I have to remind myself they probably all have rabies or some similar affliction in order to avoid petting them

b) All the sidewalks are anywhere from 1-3 feet off the ground, probably to protect pedestrians from the EXTREMELY aggressive driving, which makes no sense because everyone in Jordan is constantly late, schedules mean nothing, and there is no reason for anyone to be in such a hurry. I tend to be a rather awful backseat driver, and I've had numerous near-nervous breakdowns in cabs over the past few days....apparently you just need to say insha'allah and let fate take over. For the record, the number one killer of Americans in Jordan is traffic accidents.

Nonetheless, the sidewalks undulate up and down (not due to erosion, but on purpose), and they are fun.  c) RETURN OF THE CASSETTE TAPE--usually considered a relic of my childhood, these are in heavy circulation here--one particular ADD cab driver we had insisted on switching tape mid song, rewinding, fast forwarding, etc. etc, for a good 20 minutes while in traffic--truth be told, all the Arabic songs, once they get going, sound prettttty similar to me

A token globalization story: We were given 3 Dinar to go find a small gift for someone else in the program, and my group ended up going into a small music store. One Arab man sat at the cash register, with 3 giggling Asian women around him, all dancing to a Billy Joel music video blasting on the TV. The shelves were filled with burned mix cds for 1 JD, and 2-year old American music--the hottest new single was Mario's "Let Me Love You"

I was proud of myself for successfully bargaining for my first time--usually not a strong point of mine, but another classmate and I were in search of our first Jordanian scarves and after offering a first price I cut a deal with her since we were getting two. Moreover, two different salesmen, one the proprietor of a gift store, the other at a shawarma store, complimented me on my arabic, and one asked me what country I was from since he wasn't sure! Not sticking out as an American tourist is, sadly, somewhat of a compliment here. 

In the evening, my program took an excursion to Madaba, a smaller town outside of Jordan to go to Kan Zaman (I have to say, really blows the SF version out of the water). Though I usually consider a menu of options to be a luxury, at many places, they simply start bringing you tons of courses as soon as you sit down, which is great because you end up trying things you wouldn't have otherwise in the end. The food is absolutely incredible here, and I am usually so full from all the appetizers that I am completely full by the time the main course arrives--tabouleh, hummus, babaganoush, kebab, pita, kefta, kebbeh, fried cheese, and always, lots and lots of shisha. The restaurant was designed so you appeared as though you were in a rocky cave, and after the meal, a live musician came. My primary academic director is a man named Ra'ed from the Badia, the rural region in which I will be spending time in a Bedouin camp later on in the semester, and he kicked off a massive dance party and taught us all traditional dances--it was truly wonderful.

In just a few hours, I will be moving in with my host family, where I will be living for the rest of the semester. 

Vital details: Mother, 24 (!), named Maha....(Al-Kitaab users, you understand why this is amazing), Father, another Ra'ed, educated in the US and knows English very well, unlike Maha (which is good so I will be forced to speak Arabic with her more). One son, Daoud, 4, who really wants a sister, and is learning to play soccer. What more could I ask for? Maha is a friend of our head Arabic coordinator, and she says she is very humorous, loves to laugh, and put us together because she saw that I like to dance and she knew Maha has always wanted a daughter, despite having conception troubles. Even better, Maha's mother's family lives in the same building as she does, and is also taking on another girl in my program, Isabelle. In short, I am incredibly excited and anticipate a weekend filled with massive family bonding. I'll report back on Sunday....the new Monday here

Amman fil Noor al-Eyom (Amman in Daylight)

My first full day in Jordan has been both overwhelming and intoxicating--despite the Pizza Huts and KFCs that dot the metropolitan area and claims of Amman's Westernization, it is clear to me that an entirely different set of social and ethical rules apply here. As it was orientation, we received a massive debriefing from the various SIT staff members, largely on appropriate conduct that will prevent any security incidents. Although the crime rate in Amman may be much lower than many American cities, our ignorance of the delicate social nuances, and the effect certain actions may have, make us more at risk to provoke a situation that we may otherwise avoid at home. For starters:
1. Always walk at a fast pace, with purpose, and do not appear to be wandering around or exploring
2. Never maintain sustained eye contact with someone of the opposite sex, for this can be interpreted as a sexual provocation
3. If people catcall or say things to you, pretend you don't hear them
4. If someone is honking at you in a car, it is probably a man, and by no means should you turn around, for even acknowledging it with a glance will be taken as a reciprocal gesture

Essentially, keep yourself more or less isolated from contact with people in a public space. It's interesting to see how living like this your entire life can affect someone--today after our group went out to lunch, one of the female staff members took me to the ATM so I could withdraw some Jordanian dinars. After having heard her speak in front of the group earlier, I knew she was a perfectly articulate and intelligent person, and so during the car ride, I tried to make conversation with her, but to no avail! I was just asking basic questions along the lines of where she grew up, how does she like working for SIT, etc etc, to which she responded more or less monosyllabicly. Usually, it is the staff who is trying to get this sort of information out of us so to see her be completely unable to communicate was a bit shocking. Had I been a male student, I would have completely understood, but this just took me by surprise.

Aside from all that, throughout the day I have been struck with how lucky I am to be here, and how excited I am for our classes to start. I have enjoyed trying out my Arabic with waiters and taxi drivers, and can't wait to see the improvement that hopefully will come with the intensive language training. The SIT headquarters is in one of the nicest parts of Amman, a mintaka (neighborhood) called Abdoun...let's just say our next-door neighbors are the Venezuelan and Azerbijiani embassies, armed guards patrol the streets, and we are stationed in a beautiful, spacious marble residence, complete with a library, 4 classrooms, sitting areas, a kitchen, and offices. Tomorrow we will be taking an extensive tour around the city in order to get our bearings, and will continue to venture out more on our own. Until then...

Intatibaa3 al-Awul (First Impressions)

After about 7 hours of waiting in airports, 10+ hours of flight time, and 3+ cups of rice pudding (yay AirFrance!), I am finally in Amman!! Truth be told, I was surprised by the ease of the trip--the first leg, from JFK to Paris, only took 6 hours, while the second leg was only a mere 4 hours. In terms of my fellow passengers, however, the two flights could not be more different. I had a lovely row-mate on the way to Paris, a young man named Chet en route to his sister's wedding in India. Originally from Sydney and now a Vice President of Management at Goldman Sachs in New York, he had a lot of interesting things to say about the current recession, the Middle Eastern Economy, and the life choices you make post-college graduation--all of interest to me! Moreover, he gave me his card and extended the help of the Goldman SOS system in case I ever got in trouble--gotta love the friendly fellow passengers. Upon boarding the flight to Amman, the shifting gender percentages (heavily in favor of males) was readily apparent--aside from the girls on our program, you could probably count the number of females on one hand, and they were split down the middle, a few older ones in headscarves, and a few more in more modern apparel. The men were fairly aggressive in their eye contact, but otherwise, paid us no attention. It was dark when we reached Jordan, and perhaps due to sporadic electricity, as well as my meager knowledge of Jordanian geography, the landscape, from above, appeared to be a series of swirling lights, with frequent gaps of total darkness. As soon as we hit the ground, the cell phone of a man started ringing in front of me, throwing out peals of Arabic pop music--I was in the Middle East!

Along the half hour bus ride from the airport to our hotel, my eyes were glued to the window, absorbing all the contradicting elements of the landscape. There were rocky bluffs, ample sand, along with seemingly out of place patches of snow. The cars on the road ran the gamut, from Mercedes SUVs to tiny, broken down pickup trucks with mysterious odds and ends poking out of their backsides. Once at the hotel, we were assigned to temporary rooms until we move in with our families on Friday--most amusing of the process was the elevator, which was TINY, could fit no more than one person and one suitcase, whose buttons had no direct correlation with whatever numbers they purported to represent. The dinner served, aside from some very tough chicken, was absolutely delicious--probably the best hummus I've ever tasted, as well as a few things I didn't recognize, but decided to try anyways. Our Academic Director seems very nice, and I've enjoyed using my Arabic--it seems like most of the kids on the program have taken fewer semesters than I have, so it's nice to be able to help people out with basic conversation, after typically being frustrated by my arabic studies back at Brandeis. Tomorrow, we begin our orientation, and hopefully I'll get a hold of a cell phone, some Jordanian dinars, and general know-how. Until then, Ma'a salaama!

Intatibaa3 al-