20.2.08

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.

1 comment:

Meg Barankin said...

What does 'mumtaz' mean?

Also, you are awesome. I'm incredibly impressed by and proud of you, truly.