The Badia Blog

What follows is a series of notations on topics that came up on my trip to rural Badia to live with a homestay family there for four days and five nights. Studying anthropology has taught me that four days and five nights is as useless for understanding people (or even just one person) as a fork is for eating ice cream. That's actually a tragic analogy, forks are fairly useful in a pinch for eating ice cream, unless it's extremely melty in which case my analogy stands. Nevertheless, I hope you got what I was going for. Moving on, here is what a visitor to the Badia noticed in four meager days:

I did not get proposed to, did not eat a lamb's head, and did not shower. What I did do was learn a little bit and watch a lot about what it meant to be a woman in the Badia.

Silence
Silence is something that I thought I was comfortable with. I thought that I was superb at being silent with myself and with other people. I've always been a fan of the quotation from the movie Pulp Fiction when Mia says, "That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the f*** up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence." I completely agree with her. Speaking to someone for the utter use of filling silence is silly and worthless, does anyone have meaningful conversations that way? Anyway, I always thought that I was good at silence, at being comfortable in them. I was wrong. My family in the Badia was supposed to consist of a sister who was an english teacher. She had been married off to someone and so I was left to my own devices with 3 (or maybe just two, but I think three) sisters and a mom who spoke only Arabic. I've only been here for about a month, my Arabic is next to nothing, and though in Amman I can get by because my family here speaks some english and a well placed mumtaz can win over hearts if delivered correctly (referring here to cab drivers in general or food service employees), I am nowhere near able to conduct a conversation about the simplest of topics in Arabic. And so I was in a bubble of silence. After the general introductory questions and exclamations were stumbled through (stumbling mainly on my part), quiet descended and did not leave. On their part, my family seemed content in this silent world, discussing things as they came to mind briefly and then retreating back into not speaking. I struggled on this front the most. Awkward- I am awkward. And I try to cover my awkwardness by being artificially more awkward. This logic makes sense in my head but in practice rarely works, especially when you can't be silly and irreverent for lack of communication abilities. So I sat there, being awkward with myself. In these periods of quiet I ran through a Rolodex of reasons I was so uncomfortable or why no one was speaking to me (they don't like me, they are annoyed I don't speak more Arabic, they wish they had another student or none at all, they couldn't care less about me, why does this even bother me so much?!). And then I stumbled upon the answer: I am a multi-tasking freak. If it's not my computer it's my phone and if it's not my phone it's the TV and if it's not that it's books, homework, friends, CDs, DVDs, blah blah blah. And the reason I was so uncomfortable: The only thing I ever want is for people to like me and there was no possible way of confirming that and being certain they weren't just lying to me to make me more comfortable or happy because I was a guest with them.
So I plastered a content smile on my face at all times to reassure them I was happy and to convince myself that I may be awkward incarnate but that they don't hate me and that I'm not a complete screw-up.
Did the silence get more comfortable? Not really. Not being able to speak to people on any meaningful basis who are hosting you in their home is a pretty big mushkilah (problem). And for someone who needs reassurance that she is not being a terrible imposition upon them and that she is not annoying or disappointing to them, it's an even bigger problem. And so I was left to reassure myself that this was not the case (with some help from my "thank god she speaks arabic better than I do" neighbor/cousin Sarah Dawn, another SIT student).
The moral of the story? Must remember to tell myself that you're already trying not to be an imposition and trying to be constantly happy and that's enough. And it's okay. And silence is good. And doesn't have to mean anything other than you just can't speak to each other because you speak english and they speak arabic.

Sitting, Hospitality, and Women's Work
I have never sat so much in my life or been told to sit so much in my life. Dr. Raed says women are the backbone of the Badia. He says they do all of the work. If they do I must say it looks as if it's all behind the scenes. Or it's a sort of unspoken "social" work that goes on. And by social work I mean a sort of hard to explain "glue" that holds the community together. This is where the meager four day, good as a fork analogy comes in. In four days what can I really know about these women. There's too much in my way and by too much I mean as a guest I am not privy to doing any of said work that these women supposedly do. In fact, after observing the morning folding of blankets and putting them away after sleeping, I attempted to follow suit the next morning and fold my blankets in order to ease my mind (refer to previously notated "imposition" sentiment) and just to help out. Immediately I was stopped and not allowed to clean up. I'm a guest after all and the hospitality in this place is ridiculous. I was then told to sit. This being the case, you can see how impossible it is for me to observe, much less partake, in the work that women do, whatever it is. All I can say is that they sat with me often, making me question what is was that they actually did.
Things I am certain women here do: cook, serve tea, care for guests, care for children, teach at schools, serve visitors, sit with guests.
Women are important and the work that I saw them do while there (see above) is definitely pivotal. But I have a feeling a lot more is going on and I'm just not allowed to see it as a visitor and guest.

Protection
The above information being known (or at least vaguely thought about), women could definitely be interpreted as being important and the backbone of a community when conceptualized in the way that appeared to be  the case (tempered by the "four day" qualification, of course). And this was: protected. I did not meet the men of my family. And if I did, it was in passing because I was re-entering the house and happened to see them on my way to one of the other rooms and to not be introduced would be rude. We (women) did not eat with men. We (women) slept in a room without men together. My general interaction with men would have been completely zero if Sarah's host dad hadn't have whisked us off to Wadi Rum and "little" Petra for two days. Men were not involved in my stay in the Badia really at all. On top of this, I felt shuffled often. Shuffled from one house to another (when I would go to Sarah's to go on a journey to the big wide world when we went on our trips) or shuffled from one room to another, shuffled from seeing the school to seeing the pre-school. It's hard to describe this feeling, the feeling of being something protected and in transit. I don't want to exaggerate. I was not caged. I mean, I went on two day-trips with Sarah's family to Wadi and Petra. But when I was with my family, life felt very different. I felt like this precious little thing that was given the bed even though I'd rather have slept on the floor with the rest of them and not have felt like I was kicking them out, I felt like something that needed shielding from the coldness of outside or the male gaze by being kept inside as much as possible and having my sisters walk me to and from Sarah's even though it was a five-second walk and all I wanted to do was run around outside and get a little dirty. In this way, women are important and treated in such a way that shows how important they are.
-and then I remind myself, four days Sarah, you were only there for four days-
So I take it all back. Who knows what's going on? Not me, certainly. All I can know is how I felt. And me in Amman is already an interesting conundrum. Me in the Badia? A story that is interesting indeed.

I hate sitting for more than two hours at a time. I hate being waited on and not being allowed to help out around the house. I hate not going outside and going for walks or exploring where I am.

These were problems. Because not only was I in direct contradiction with what happened while in the Badia, but these feelings also prevent me from seeing the bigger picture because I'm too tied up in my uncomfortableness in the situation so I can't even begin to look objectively at what's going on and why. That would have taken a much, much longer time. I wonder how long you have to stay in the Badia before they stop considering you a "guest" and start considering you a part of a working community that needs to contribute...

The Hijab
Or the veil or anything else that you see a woman covering up with int he Middle East. The most important thing I've learned here so far: this covering, whatever it is, cannot in any way shape or form be used to describe a woman here. Not even her religious affiliation because guess who wore one in the Badia? Yours truly. For a long time, I've been enamored with the hijab, what it means, why women wear it, what it is to them, what it means to men, to outsiders looking in, etc. etc. And what I have found is that it is simultaneously the most complicated and most simple topic.
Complicated: From the outside looking in it is seen often as a restriction on women's rights, or at least a commentary on the equality of men and women in the Middle East. A student in our discussion put it best when they referred to it as such a difficult topic because it's seen by so many as a marker of the modernity (or lack thereof) of Middle Eastern culture and society and thus forces women into a position of speaking to that issue even if it's not what's going on at all.
Simple: Women will wear whatever they see fit and for their own reasons. End of story.
How I have come to feel about it: Well for one I missed my hair. But that was expected. I feel naked without my bangs and my hair is like an extension of my personality so that was a tad painful. Aside from that I think it's important to remind people who aren't here with me that behind every veil or under every hijab is just a woman or a girl doing what she wants. She's a good mom, she has her own opinions, she is free simply in her ability to make the choice of whether to cover or not. I guess it sort of came from seeing them everywhere. In America, hijabs are far and few between, or at least where I live so seeing one puts you off kilter a little bit (or maybe not). But here it's everyday material, on most women and girls, to the point of me being uncomfortable about my hair for the first time (unheard of previously in my life). Seeing them everywhere is sort of pacifying, it just becomes the everyday. And I like that. I like that after a month I'm no longer hyper aware of the one women in the Randalls in Houston that is wearing a hijab. It is now the status quo. And though I still don't know every single woman's reason for wearing it or any of the nuances behind that reasoning (so really I don't know anything, yet again) I'm comfortable with saying that I'm happy feeling (and maybe knowing) that it's just a girl, doin' whatever she wants and that's cool and it doesn't have to be an issue.

General Thoughts
So what did I take out of this? Interesting question.

1. I hate not being able to communicate. I hate not knowing Arabic. I want so badly to be able to at least insist on helping out, even if they don't let me. Or to be able to talk to them about their lives and what they do, what they like, hate, want to do, love, whatever. ANYTHING. Utter inability to communicate is one of the more painful things I've ever experienced.
2. Women in the Badia are indeed amazing and I wish I could spend a lifetime trying to understand what they do, how they feel, and everything in between but i only had four days and five nights.
3. Men in the Badia...they exist?? Just kidding, but seriously, it would have been nice to at least have had some sort of access to their entirely different world (which, thankfully, I sort of do, from the stories that the men of SIT bring back with them about their stays).
4. I have heard from professors before that bringing children into the field has its perks and drawbacks. I have never been happier to have children around me. In the Badia, children became my outlet, because even if I couldn't speak to a group of women at a meal, I could smile and laugh at a kid being silly and they could see I was enjoying myself. In the future should I for some reason being doing serious cultural anthropology (so far none of my life plans involve this), I would sincerely consider procreating before said ethnographic endeavors and taking the kid with me.
5. There's nothing like a lack of technology and communicative skills with the people around you to bring out some good philosophical/generally hardcore awesome conversations with the only other english speaker around. Sarah Dawn, watching the sunset in Wadi Rum with you and talking for hours with you that day was wonderful.
6. I love the humour in the Badia and the general relaxed nature towards raising children, potential problems (mish mushkilah, no problem), and just general chill attitude. Also, for a culture of shame (as Dr. Raed put it), my sisters were constantly poking fun at my arabic. But it was all good fun and I'd take it again any day for the laughs it gave everyone. Besides, my accent is terrible and I read slower than I five-year old. Make all the fun you want, I do all the time.
7. I still want to ride a camel and actually maybe someday make a meal in a kitchen here but I have a feeling both are far fetched goals and I will come to be content with learning(and actually retaining) a couple of new arabic words a day.
8. I'm glad as all get out that I went, even if it was terribly uncomfortable at times or I felt cloistered and lacked vitamin D for a couple of days. It may not have been my cup of tea (speaking of, I'm glad I can get back to the world of tea without sugar again) but it was certainly a very memorable, interesting, and eye-opening place to be.

Until next time, I'm off to the dead sea tomorrow and am in dire need of studying for my upcoming midterm, love to all.

 

Wadi Rum with Sarah!

 

 

Sarah's host little sister

 

Sarah's host family in Little Petra

 

Megan's host little sister on the last day, the bus to the right was our ride back to Amman :)

A Different Kind of Decent

This post is about feminism. It's about not knowing anything and feeling like I might know everything but refusing to allow myself to feel that way. It's about women and men and most of all it's about:
Sarah Dropek IN Jordan
and at the same time about how I'm not actually here at all.

Firstly, the catalyst. Today we began our lecture week on Women in Islam. Our first speaker came, Dr. Samira Khaleidah who teaches here at the University of Jordan and is a lecturer for CIEE (another study abroad program). Recounting her entire lecture and our discussion with her here would be insanely impossible so what follows may not make sense completely because you're not getting the whole picture and for that I can't apologize enough because this hour and a half gave me such huge things to think about. I don't think I've ever thought more than when I've been here in my life. Constant overdrive. Not only that but I'm forced to consistently question and think about how I'm thinking. Basically everything blew up in the air and now is slowly falling down around me like ashy soot but hovering above the ground because it's too light to get that far.

Ashy Thought piece #1
Dr. Samira Khaleidah when questioned about what needs to happen for women in the middle east said that women need to be more aware of their rights and demand for them to be taken seriously. It should be stated that she supported the idea that under Sharia law, women are in fact very equal to men and have rights that many don't claim. This first forced me to think about women and men. Why is it that when feminism is mentioned, instantly this discourse arises that the woman is to blame in not being her own advocate? It's hard to say this and not sound like what everyone thinks a crazy feminist sounds like but I'll say it anyway: What's so wrong with blaming the men. I'm all for women being more aware of their rights as human beings and being more forceful about demanding them but there is definitely something to be said for men needed to be educated that they're the problem too. It was sort of an "it takes two to tango" moment. Who is responsible for creating a culture in which women must be told to grab their rights and demand them? Not just the women, my friends. Men too. Empowering women is an important part of the equation but I think that we've lacked a focus for too long on educating men in just about everything that has to do with women (minus biology because we all had to go to that one really awkward class period when the teacher tells you about sex and you've known about it for quite a while now, thank you very much). But seriously, where is our focus on inviting men to discuss feminism and the roles they play in women's lives. I feel like I'm preaching to the american political parties a bit on this one because it sounds eerily similar, but can't we sit together for a bit and talk? Without inviting men to the table, I feel like women will be constantly forced into the position of needing to demand their rights because men are oblivious as to what rights we're calling for and why. Why blame just the victim here and tell her she's the one who has to fix it all even though she's not 100% responsible for the problem in the first place?

Ashy Thought piece #2
Women in Islam. Never have I been so confused about how I feel. I am so IN Jordan in the sense that me in this place feels all the time like a juxtaposition of opposites. At home I pride myself on being open-minded and accepting of things that I might feel are backwards or strange. Whatever, so long as you're not hurting anyone in the long or short run, go for it (blanket generalization but it's midnight right now and I still have homework to do, so forgive the idiocy of that one). Here I am constantly having to reevaluate how open minded I can be especially when I disagree with so many of the practices here, especially in relation to women. What is feminism to these women? What does the hijab or veil mean to them? How do they rationalize their religion calling for more lax dress restrictions for men? Or for that matter generally more lax rules for men? Do they feel cheated? Annoyed? Are they unconcerned? What is going ON! (I find myself exclaiming this at least 4 times a day). Dr. Samira Khaleidah tried to field all of our questions but honestly, how much can we learn from one women about millions? The terrible anthropologist I am, and brain constantly on overdrive, I find that I naturally try to compare how I would feel if I were here and this was my life under these religious laws. I should never do this. No one should. Because how can you judge? But here I am, doing it anyway. And all I feel is anger. Not a rage, rather, a very hot ember that sits and festers away because it can't make a flame. If I were here (which I'm not...not really) I would feel cheated, furious, and that no one around me understood why or even cared. Why are laws different for me, as a woman?? Why is getting married the end-all be-all of my existence here? Am I just an incubator because my husband can take another wife if I can't give him children? (As another student, Molly, ingeniously pointed out) Am I inherently considered to have less sexual desire than men because it is I, and not them, who should be more modest? And what does that say about my equality?
Being here is impossible. Because I am here and yet, I can't be here. Because if I were actually here I would run away ASAP. But then I remember, I don't know anything. I don't know at all how these women feel about this, how they conceptualize these things, if it even bothers them at all. After the lecture today I was struck with such a sad feeling of complete incompatibility with the world here.

Ashy thought piece #3
Which leads me to wonder, am I incompatible? Can I just not come to terms with this place and this culture? Is this where my open-mindedness ends? It can't be! That's not me at all! So what is to be done? I must talk to more people, attempt to contextualize these things I think I understand and really don't get at all. But then Dr. Samira Khaleidah comes to talk to us about how she does conceptualize these things and I find myself feeling icky at every turn. Not agreeing with her but then not wanting to say anything because I'm Sarah, I would never say something mean about how someone feels about their life. Dr. Khaleidah informed us during the lecture that under Islamic law, women are always the responsible (guilty) party when it comes to adultery. I think this is ridiculous and it infuriates me. I want to not say a word and pretend like I didn't hear it and that something else is going on that makes this okay at the same time that I want to scream at her "How can you say this and think that's okay?!?!" But I don't do either. Instead I just sit here, going around in circles, trying to figure out how to deal with this when I don't have all of the information and yet I feel like I have too much information. Help. Please? This shouldn't be that hard and I shouldn't feel so mean and haughty-taughty thinking I know better than these women. Ugh, that's the most disgustingly, un-anthropological thing to ever say (it leaves this icky old gum taste in my mouth to even think it). I know better than them. I can't ever! I can't know better than anyone! I'm just me, in a little box, trying to understand people and only barely getting the surface of who they are. So what can I do? Rescind all judgment forever because you can never really know anyone? That would be inhuman. My brain would explode in trying to be the nicest person ever. And I would definitely not be happy. But I'm not happy condemning other people's way of life either. Which brings me back to square one. I guess that's where everyone should settle, even though it's like sitting int he most uncomfortable position for the the rest of your life at the kiddy-table on thanksgiving day where you can barely hear your own thoughts above the ruckus. But at least square one is safe, if I never make up my mind about anything I don't have to feel bad about everything, right? But it's so uncomfortable and hurts my brain. On this point, I'd like you all to join me at the kiddie-table. I know it sucks and you'd so much rather not have to sit there just like me but it would be terrible for us to go to the big-kids table (who sits there anyway?) when we don't know anything. The big kids table is a dangerous place to be.

Ashy Thought piece #4
A very large part of me wishes I could go back to my tiny world and judge from afar how I feel about everything. But the other smaller, maybe a tad smarter part of me says that it's good that I'm not there anymore. Because that was a mean place to be if I ever saw one.

Ashy Thought piece #5
The issues I have with Islam are the same I have with Christianity. I said this in class today and got some giggles but here's the sitch, if we made the bible law and used it to run our country the way (at least this is what I've gotten the impression of and been told) Jordan does it and other Middle Eastern countries, lots of things would have to be thrown out to make it compatible with the way America actually runs today including probably all of Leviticus (feminist nightmare chapter). Making religion law (and dealing with all of the issues of interpretation be they multiple, literal, or fluid or figurative) is something so difficult to understand. And then on top of that, dealing with the way a culture shapes how people see and interpret that religion and how the religion shapes and reinterprets the culture right back makes everything in such an upheaval it's no wonder people don't understand the state of things here. So maybe instead of being pro-women and pro-gay I'm actually just anti-religion and pro-people just being nice (refer back to mabsooteen post)? That just sounds terrible. In fact, posting this blog will be a bit painful, mainly because I'm letting it all out, terrible sounding ideas and all, be kind in your judgment.

I think that's it. At the end of the day I just want people to be able to do what they want as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else. I just want everyone to be mabsooteen (at the risk of being redundant). So if Dr. Samira Khaleidah is okay with women always being blamed in cases of adultery then go for it. But then, what about the women who aren't okay with that is the question that naturally follows in my mind. Does all of the girth of women's rights around the world just depend on the person who restricts them the most? that just can't be. Goodness. It's now one in the morning and I haven't even started my Arabic homework. I'm a terrible student (and yet a good one at the same time, at least I hope...I am actually trying to think about things, even though lately they've had nothing to do with Arabic and everything to do with anthropology). And my brain hurts from going around in these circles. And if you've read this far, yours probably does too. apologies galore. This is just so majnoon to me.

In regards to the title of this post, when Dr. Samira Khaleidah was explaining what Islamic dress means to Muslim women in other countries she said that maybe it would just be interpreted eventually as different kinds of decent. If this is the case than I am a very different kind of decent in the context of Islam. I'm the kind of decent that things it's more spiritual to run around like a mad person in a beautiful forest with a bikini on with wet hair dripping water everywhere from the rain than it is to hide whatever god (if there is one) made me look like under a scarf and copious amounts of clothing in order to be modest. Because if this is how some magical ting in the sky decided I should look then I'm going to have fun with it and it's going to be a hell of a good time. A very different kind of decent from Dr. Samira Khaleidah with hijab and large thick dress on in lecture today? Hopefully. Because if that's the case then maybe it means we can all be mabsooteen, you know?

Until next time and hopefully a saner time, Love to you all.

Secret Dates and Forbidden Love

If you've read any of my friends posts, then you'll know this observation is a long time coming. This show, Forbidden Love in Jordan is infinitely popular. As I write this, we are watching the newest episode. My comprehension is severely limited by my complete lack of Arabic skillz. Alas, from what I can gather, it's highly captivating and maybe slightly on the cheesy side. And by slightly I definitely mean extremely. Anyhow, it's all about this guy who is the son of an older man who married this young girl who the son is in love with.  There's something going on with the family distracting the son and trying to make him love someone else, but who knows really. Drama drama drama. The theme song is also that epic tune from Requiem for a Dream...sort of. So the association my mind makes with the show is very odd indeed.

The point of this post is that men of America should beware. Not only do I intend to return to the states with a more affirmed idea of my own awesome feminist ways but I will also have higher expectations concerning that old fashioned thing we called courting. It seems like a throwback but from what I know so far (which is just about nothing) is that the Bedouin people here and some more urbanite Arabs have a way better idea of what a date is than guys in the U.S. Today while discussing my ISP topic with my advisor here, Dr. Raed walked in and we broached the topic with him. It's dating by the way if you didn't know. My plan thus far is to look into what Amman girls my age think about dating and how it relates to Islam, their views of the 'West', and a whole bunch of other things I haven't solidified very well yet (I'll post my research question here when it's all pretty and prepared to see the light of day). Anyhow, Dr. Raed told me and Megan about this Bedouin practice called Taleela (spelling probably incorrect) which, from what I understood, is some secret dating practice among the men and women where they, get this: actually get to know each other and the man asks the women on these secret rendezvous. To quote Megan's glorious blog, "Quick! Everyone reading this take a breath and don’t jump to conclusions about this rendezvous. This would be in the purest sense a meeting! You would get with that guy who makes your heart race and talk in the moonlight. Also it would be your secret. How romantic is that? How much better than getting a 10 word text?" It's all very Romeo and Juliet to me. The point is that it's not a given that if the girl says yes once she will say yes again. The guy must consistently impress the girl. I approve this. I wonder what girl would not....

Neddless to say, I feel like we may have lost some of this... I don't even think there's a word for what I'm trying to say here...ummm... lost some of this...enchantment with the whole process of dating. Or maybe it's just me actually. Now that I'm thinking about it that may actually be the case. Nevertheless, on our Badia adventure to occur soon, I fully anticipate to discuss this with my sisters and figure out what's going out out there. And I fully intend to return later on in the program. I'm so excited to get out of the city. Don't get me wrong, I love Amman but I miss the always available option in Texas to disappear into the country and go phoneless and unplugged and just generally not be constantly available to everyone on my Facebook friends list. I resent the 21st century. And adore it. Grass is always greener, right? Until you get to the other side and you realize sanitation sucked in the 16th century and you die of some very negligible thing. It's unfortunate that corsets went out of style. As a feminist it's very contradictory that I like this supposedly oppressive form of dress, I know, but they're sexy, you have to admit it. Now they're relegated to Halloween, Masquerade Balls (which we should have more of), or Rocky Horror.

Wow, I have veered totally off topic....did I even have one to begin with? Mmmm, debatable.

Back to the point (or total lack of one to this post)

--> Badia? I'm pumped
--> Dating? ISP topic
--> Libya (and everyone else protesting)? Props, just keep it peaceful friends.
--> Secret Dating Rendezvous and forbidden love? Yes Please.

I suppose I should talk about Salt, my most recent excursion. First of all, Salt is Tuscany like Amman is Paris. And by that I mean, it's slower paced, more beautiful, and generally just more chill. It was splendid to visit. Much fun was had though I failed for one more day on my eternal hunt for avocados (with which to make guacamole). We visited Jordan's first school, an archaeology museum (NAM!), a co-op of female handicrafters where I met my first feminist in Jordan (love her!), a square where some sassy old men play a very strange and incomprehensible version of mancala, and a cafe where there was a complete lack of hummous but an overabundance of laughter and poorly translated American food. Overall? Success!

Anyhow, I am severely behind in some of my studies and by that I mean I have GOT to go memorize some Arabic and move beyond the phrases: Mumtaz (excellent), zaki (delicious), and food vocabulary (because let's face it, more applicable vocab is always memorized first and food is very important....especially hummous).

On a different note, Megan and I recently discovered, just because hummous is made in a can does not mean it should be eaten. Ever. (see photos below for explanation)

Also- just stumbled on this gem that's semi-related to this post. And here it goes. I am reposting a facebook post of a friend that was originally posted by her friend: Where Have the Good Men Gone?
See what I mean? The internet is both frightening and awesome.

Another aside- when I get back to the U.S. I will be a senior. This realization is terrifying. I don't want to talk about it.

 

Salt (or, in my opinion, Amman version 2.0!)

 

We tried to fix is with zait and za3tar but it could not be salvaged. Megan looks on disapprovingly.

I'm about to share something fascinating with you. Honey. This honey was packed in Hong Kong, imported by some Jordanian (?) company, and originated from good ol' Australian honey bees. (see below)...

And it's all translated into Arabic. And was bought by a Texan visiting the lovely Hashemite Kingdom. Globalization makes me giggle sometimes, and fascinates me.

Apologies for the utter randomness of this post. Enjoy your day lovely readers!

Dead Sea, Oranges, and Lists

Far too tired to be witty right now, so instead of a narrative, tonight it will be a long list of things I've learned/experienced/any other random thought that comes to my mind:

-There are so many ways to show love/respect here (haven't figured out which means which and I haven't been able to discriminate them yet, unfortunately)but one of my new favorites is offering food. A particular preferred method being an orange, already peeled and pieces handed to you though often it is meat, bread, or whatever is being eaten for dinner that night. Maybe today the orange just stood out as this wonderful, juicy juxtaposition to the Dead Sea's salt stealing much loved H2O from my body.
-I watched the moon rise today with a far away related family member as he told me, "watch, it will happen in one minute-things move very quickly here". It was wonderful indeed but I would beg to differ with him on that one. Things move very fast in Jordan, yes, but there are these great moments that I've found just languidly linger in your mind, even if the event itself is over like getting coffee, conversations with people, sitting with the family.
-Played soccer the other day with my older brother and his friends and some girls from SIT, I learned that I should not play soccer in places where it is called football. I will only ever make a fool of myself. Nevertheless, it was a great time.
-Today, while swimming for the first time in the Dead Sea (and by swimming, I do mean floating, it's so cool), my little brother told me that the Quran says that the reason for the Dead Sea being in existence is that there was once a city of gay people who lived there and Allah did not approve so he killed them all with the salty rain. I think he's trying to drive a point home....
-Thoughts on the above bullet: It's funny because you really can die in the Dead Sea, or at least go blind apparently. No one, and I mean no one puts their head underwater and there are signs everywhere telling you to protect you eyes and your mouth and nose from the water. Also, I wonder as to the validity of my little brother's story. Anyone out there reading know if this is legit? He also told me no one can prove there isn't a city under the sea because you just can't get down there, the water won't let you in. Indeed I tried to force my head underwater (not a good idea for the record) and I couldn't do it. Good for protecting my eyes, not so good for looking for cities.
-I'm finally changing pants. I feel like this could be a blog overshare but I really don't care who knows. Since getting here, I have worn the same pair of jeans everyday. I wore them to the beach today and there is just too much sand to continue. I see this as a very positive step in my life.
-My sister today, while walking on the beach, told me how much she wants to go to Palestine (which you can see on the horizon on the other side of the sea). She said she isn't allowed to go because she doesn't have a special card even though she is Palestinian-Jordanian and wants to visit. She also said she doesn't like the Israelis and wishes hey would get out so she could go. In my stupidity when it comes to the Israel/Palestine issue, I just sort of sympathized with her and asked her more about visiting someday. I truly need to learn more about this. The other SIT participants are amazing when it comes to Middle East issues and I envy their comprehension. Anthropology fail.
-On the way home from the sea, I woke up in the car halfway through the drive back to find my sister and brother had fallen asleep on both of my shoulders and I couldn't move. This family is legit.
-My mom offered me something tonight and it was too dark to see what and the moment went to quickly to ask what it was. Chocolate. Awesome and scary.

Things I have relinquished to:

-While in Jordan, against all of my slightly germaphobic ways, I will drink after people I barely know, eat after people I may not know at all, and pray to whoever is listening that I don't get mono or other nasty things.
-I will be a sub par student. I find that in order to enjoy things here and find time to breath, it's impossible for me to be the student I am in the states and I have to come to terms with this. I can't study all the time (or at all some days) and I will have to be okay with this and just be better again when I'm home.
-My days are not my own to plan. I can have the best intentions walking out the door, come home and find out something else is going to happen or be informed at midnight that tomorrow morning we'll be out of town. (This is sort of related to the above point).
-The only time I will truly be alone and find time to remind myself to take a deep breath and walk back out the door (you know that feeling?) is when I am going to the bathroom.
-I will wear more clothing swimming in the ocean than I wear to bed in the U.S. And I will still feel overexposed because every woman around me is staring and my legs, seeing daylight the first time since getting here.
-I will try very hard and fail every time to not be awkward when I'm surrounding by 4-12 people speaking Arabic and having a grand old time while I sit silently, smiling, and watching. Attempting, and failing again to not look like a complete dunce.
-I will gladly take the seed that a little girl offers me from her mouth (still gleaning with her spit) and put it in mine like she motions me too because she is the only human being attempting to interact with me in moments that resemble the above bullet.
-I will eat meat when it is unavoidable and apologize profusely to whoever is listening.
-I will struggle everyday with trying to understand people and getting my elephant of an "I'm-studying-abroad-and-I'm-from-America" bias out of my way.
-I will never know as much Arabic as I anticipated learning when I came here.
-I will try to help so I don't look mean and pompous but then most likely get in the way.
-I will wash my hair with lemon juice instead of vinegar so I don't have to explain to my family what that smell is.
-I will be okay with second-hand smoke (or at least not outwardly complain about it/steal people's cigarettes from them and throw them away).
-I will not scream at people who throw trash on the ground within sight of a trash can or who throw trash out of their car windows (the concept of litter seems to be different here and though it kills the environmentalist in me and I'm dying inside, I would be hoarse if I allowed myself to get angry at everyone who did it/be relegated to picking up trash for the rest of my life in Amman).
-I will not wear a seatbelt in cars or cabs because it's insulting to the driver (just like adding soy sauce to your sushi is is to your sushi chef, because it was made perfectly the way it should be eaten) and I will try not to die if we crash.

Okay, well that's all I can think of for tonight. What a long, wonderful, and eventful day. Below are some photos, enjoy.

 

brother in some good ol' dead sea mud

 

Oh hey Palestine and beautiful sunset!  How goes it?

 

Sister and mom, doing a sunset sea night right

 

High saline water does weird things to your hair, excuse the awkward 'not normally this stringy' look.

 

What did I tell you about the oranges. Perfect antithesis, I say, perfect. And I'm fighting scurvy!

Until next time my friends, may you have delicious food and restful sleep.

Badia and Belly Dancing...too much?

Today all of the girls went with Dema (our homestay coordinator) downtown to purchase clothing appropriate for the Badia, where we will all be going to next Thursday to stay with a different homestay family for five days. This clothing includes a very long dress with long sleeves and hijab. Let me tell you, shopping in downtown Amman when you're American is always eventful, shopping downtown with 18 other girls in Amman? Even more so.

We're all clamoring around in this itty bitty shop trying to find the perfect color and dress (but let's face it, no matter what we get, it will still be the oddest thing we've all ever worn and aside from some girls whom I'm fairly certain will rock it, will look very odd on all of us). Anyhow, we bargain (and by that I mean I watch with envy and amazement as Dema haggles with the men of the shop) and buy and waltz around with our backpacks, obviously loud and foreign and have a hell of a time.

Myself and two other girls (Sarah and El Hob/Annie) have to get our dresses hemmed because we're short and cool so while the other girls go and check out another shop we are left to our own devices with four men while we await our quickly hemmed items. Jokes are told and clothing is held up and regarded with chuckles and then one of the guys puts one of those belly dancing jingly things around me and says "Dance!!" I suppose I've gotten so used to complying to this command in my house that I didn't really hesitate and did a little swanky shaking (for the record, I did protest at least twice before agreeing to awkwardly dance in front of four men who have been snapping photos of us all night [this isn't as weird or creepy as it sounds]). Anyhow, by the end of our wait there, we've had men from the streets applaud briefly, too many giggles to count, and then man has told me I should keep the jingly thing (what is the name for this anyway?) as a gift if I wear it always. Free fun skirt? Free cab ride? who am I to protest to all of these wonderful things. So we walk out of the store after a grand old time, dresses and hijabs in hand and red jingly skirt on body. Job well done? I think so.

Also- yesterday I decided I'm going to make a point to bake for my family. I feel like it's just a good, easy way to bond with them. And though the kitchen feels very foreign and I have no idea where anything is, it's nice to cook. I miss that a lot, food freedom, haha. Anyway, baking cookies yesterday turned out to be a great choice. Dancing ensued, Forbidden Love was on the TV (a very popular, very confusingly counter cultural series), and chocolate is always delicious. Next on the list is cornbread and then guacamole. I've basically decided I'm going to bring Texas to Jordan. I don't think I'm ever more proud to be a Texan than I am when I'm not even in Texas. I do miss my lone star state.

Cannot wait to go to the Badia and be internet-less and in the country again (even though it's less country, more desert, but still). Let's see, any other little tid-bits to tell...
ahh, we finally finished learning the alphabet in Arabic class, and today tried to read a childrens book. And by that I mean, we all read one sentence in the very first page. Here is mine "The monkey escaped from the zoo and the guard ran behind to catch him." Though, in the midst of the dictionary and transliterations on my paper that I was taking notes on it reads like this, "escape monkey in zoo garden, guard behind to catch!"

I have a feeling I will never speak Arabic and I will never know if the guard catches the monkey. I also have a feeling that when I get home I will feel so great to finally feel like I'm 21 again. In any given day I think the maximum age I feel in any given circumstance is like 15, if that. Though, i clean up the kitchen at the SIT building better than I know any 15-year-old ever would so take that Amman.

God these posts are terribly bereft of any useful information for people who want to come to Amman or who are curious about Arabs or the Middle East and that was definitely my original intention in its creation. This is of course why I've linked to the right some of my friend's blogs (who are far more adept at explaining this and cataloging the interesting speakers we have come to visit and various political, economic, cultural things). I don't know- I'd like to say more about the people here and the culture, but I'm so uncomfortable doing that when I'm not sure if I even know what's going on. I mean, I've got a lot of baggage to weed through before I can actually understand something here. Think about all of the biases I've got to get out of my way (liberal arts college student, non-Arabic speaker, feminist, gay rights activist, blah blah blah, the list could go on forever!) Alas, hopefully with the Independent Study Project I'll get down and dirty and be able to pin down some stuff. Right now the plan is to conduct my study about dating practices in Jordanian youth and how women think about dating/arranged marriages/love/sex/everything that goes with it. I'm pretty pumped. Hopefully it will come out with some interesting information. I'll keep you informed of the topic narrowing/shifts/evolution. In the mean time, I apologize for my complete lack of a well-painted picture of Amman provided in this blog and hope that you'll check out the links to the right to get some more complete information. And next blog post I promise I'll try to get in a little more academic information.
(photos below courtesy of the illustrious megan daily)

 

looking on while Dema works her haggling magic. She's my bargaining role model.

Until next time, love from Jordan.

Valentine's and Les Mis

The best time to see Les Miserables for the first time, you ask?
> Definitely on Valentine's day when you're in the Middle East trying to learn Arabic and your last French class was six or so years ago and there are no subtitles.

This is what I did for my Valentine's, along with going to class.

Definite highlights:
-Our Fusha teacher told us she would bring stickers soon to class, furthering my inkling that I really am back in Elementary School (more so because I found I was actually really excited about it, I intend to hold her to her promise).
-A Valentine's Day ice cream come lunch with some lovely ladies, pictured below.
-A date with Sarah to see Les Mis at the French Cultural Center here that ended with me literally barely understanding what happened at all but was prefaced by dinner with an SIT teacher at some Lebanese pizza place that was delicious. too bad there weren't any candles involved, that was really all that was missing... and wine...actually, lots of things, but let's not linger.

Low points:
- The lack of candles at what was supposed to be my candlelight Valentine's day dinner date, geez Sarah ;)
- The lack of gym time post ice cream and shower that would have followed.
- The lack of vegetables and spinach in my life.
- The cab ride was not free tonight.
- The absence of notecard buying and Arabic studying that NEEDS to happen tomorrow! What language did I come here to learn again??

Anyhow-just a quick update of an interesting night. Also, tomorrow is prophet muhammad's birthday and everyone in the country has a holiday, except for SIT. And this news came just after we had a lecturer who spoke to us about Islam and Modernity and Secularization. Purrrfect.

Speaking of the lecture, I don't think I realized how much of a gay rights activist I was until I came here. Post lecture I'm still so confused about Islam and its relationship to modernity and the increasingly secular world. Here's the thing, I have a feeling that the lecturer was not with the popular majority of public opinion so everything was sort of skewed to begin with. That, coupled with the fact that I am basically a first grader when it comes to understanding Islam and the Middle East in general made it very hard for me to weed through everything and figure out what he was trying to propose. Needless to say, at one point I asked a question about how Islam will respond to globalization and the subsequent increased contact with the secular world (thinking specifically of the gay rights movement in the U.S.), the lecturer in a round about way equated being gay with being a prostitute (I think...) and how the Qu'ran would propose we address the problem before punishing (increasing education for those in that position, etc, etc). Except being gay is genetic...being a prostitute is not(at least to my knowledge)...

ummmmmm.....

Aside from that little issue, he was a pretty good lecturer, I think... like I said, it was difficult to follow. Most of the answers were hard to follow and I'm not sure of his bias SO...who knows. We have 2 more lecturers on political Islam, so hopefully some clarification will occur soon.

I feel like I should wear a sign over my head that says [Warning]: super feminist gay rights activist walking. or maybe I should not have come to this region of the world.... oh well, too late right?! MUMTAZ! Actually, maybe it'll be good for me to be here, or at least informative so I'm no longer operating under tragic stereotypes because those suck.

Okay, off to sleep soon, hopefully. Exhaustionnnnnn, must start getting to bed before midnight.

 

Ginny and Megan, gotta love em'

Also- the Egyptians cleaning up and re-planting things in the square after protests is endearing to the nth degree. Well done Egyptians. Well done.

Love until next time!

Turnin' on the Texas Charm

Well, these past days have been eventful.

Went on a group trip to the Roman Amphitheatre here-simply beautiful and a good time with a lot of friends. Walked around downtown, bought and orange and a sketch pad and oil pastels, which made me very happy (acrylic is next on my list, but I didn't have the JD for it at the time).I sang Ave Maria (forgetting most of the words, but not the tune, which is all that's really important anyway) in the amphitheatre and oh my gosh was it loud and a lot of fun. Definitely going back.

Today was a usual day at school, impossible Arabic (still learning the alphabet, haha), lunch of a 50 piaster falafel sandwich, and then off to the gym. Never in my life have I had better motivation to work out than to be able to shower-it's great. A walk to the circle to grab a cab with 2 great gals and then the cab ride home, my best yet.

Note to all who come here: in a cab, turn on the Texas charm and then pretend you're married. Or not, if you're me and you have nothing better to do than chat with the cab driver whose English is surprisingly good. I proceed to have the usual conversation of "Arabic is so hard, ana taleebah (student), and I'm from Texas (whereupon the driver tells me about cowboy hats, chaps, boots, and western movies, saying he's seen tehm so her knows-as if I don't,...AAAdorable). Anyway, as I'm getting out of the cab and reaching for the 2 JD I owe on the adat (meter), he tells me to put it away and don't worry about it and call him if I need anything in Jordan (about the 20th time I've heard this). Needless to say, the most successful cab ride I've had yet! I didn't have to pay! WIN! That's four falafel sandwiches saved for the weeks lunches, mumtaz!!

Below are some photos, I have GOT to go study, my Arabic is not getting any better and I need to apply myself! I'm hoping this little public pep speech will help, but at the end of the night, who know, I need more notecards to write on so studying might be postponed for practical reasons, what a sad excuse I've already made- procrastination at its finest right here people. Must go! hope you enjoyed the lovely story. Also, for the record, the girls on this trip are great, and the guys. It's all mumtaz! Well, mostly. Today I came across the thought that for about 7/8 of my life here I'm basically back in 5th grade. No lie, that's exactly how it feels. Mostly I feel 21 when i'm at the gym, but that's really about it. I'm learning the alphabet and can barely speak to the majority of the population, I have a curfew, I'ma child to the culture, don't know what I'm doing half the time. It sucks and it's great because I need some serious lessons in chilling out and being more pliable. Still, 5th graders, imagine going back, just imagine.

Anyhow, enjoy the photos!

 

Sidney and Megan, some very awesome people

 

Ain't it pretty?

 

I don't know what these cubbie boxes were for but I'm in one and I am fairly certain that those columns have been restored on the top. I'd like to see how they decided on the design? Who is their archaeologist consult I wonder...

 

Me and Ginny discussing something I'm sure...

 

cafe post-amphitheatre with Megan and Biff and the rest of the gang. Great fun and delicious mutable eggplant and hummos. All in all, awesome day.

Love until next time!

A marriage and mubarak

This day started out blissfully lazy-waking up late for the first weekend after the first week of school. Doing some homework, listening to music. A generally successful pajama day. Then Mubarak left and the house erupted. My mom's friend came over and everyone was crowded around the TV watching Al-Jazeera. Props to you Egyptians, my family is one of those in Jordan who's super excited he's out. Now to see what happens next! I wish I could figure out a little more completely what's going on but I don't speak Arabic well anough yet to catch things on Al-Jazeera and when they showed Obama's speech, they were translating too loudly into Arabic for me to hear him. Though right now they're showing clips of Egyptians driving around in the streets and it looks like Mardi Gras in New Orleans and I keep hearing Allah, so all good things I'm led to suppose.

Back to my smaller, less world changing life- we proceed to get ready for a wedding whereupon I realize I'm a terrible anthropologist (Hend's dad's friend or cousin is getting married? I can't remember: my first failure, kinship is something to be paid attention to!)

SIT told me long ago when packing that I should not even bring shorts or tank tops because I wouldn't wear them anyway. Hend proceeds to dress me in a black dress and tights. This is not happening. I know for fact that the majority of women in that wedding will have hijab on and I simply refuse to show up less than completely covered up. So I change into some of my clothes that are far less cute and far more "oh you're obviously an American trying not to break cultural rules".

We get to the wedding and true to prediction, most women are all covered up save a few and the bride with her beautiful hair. I'm just going to put this on the table, when you are the only girl who has not straightened or curled her hair to an artificial shine and you're just letting it do whatever the hell it wants to (which on a normal day is a small explosion of voluminous messy curls for me) there is no way to blend in, I repeat, no way to blend it even if you try to disappear into the ground. Not that I expected hostility. Jordanians are some of the nicest most welcoming people I've met on the whole (though I'm the only one in SIT who can compare it to Texas and I have to say, Texas necessarily wins).

Back to the failing at anthropology. So far I've limited the cultural notes I've been taking in my head mainly because I thought it'd be a good idea to give myself some time to acclimate before trying to assess. I must have lost all skill I ever thought I had. Or maybe I'm too much of a girl to make cultural notes while at a wedding because I'm too busy deciding how my wedding would be different or similar. (the feminist in me cringed when I realized this was the reason I wasn't making productive notes) So then I just gave in to being the girl instead of the anthropologist, at the time, it sounded like more fun. What an interesting ceremony it was indeed. From time to time Hend and I danced and would go back to sitting down. And let me tell you, I may be a good dancer in the states but I've got some learning to do over here. These ladies are sassy! and very talented.

There was a lot of coming and going on the part of the bride and groom. Picture taking opportunities every time. It seemed more of a procession of a king and queen to me than it did a "wedding ceremony" (in the most normal american christian wedding terms you can imagine). The best part? when the husband left and the women crowded the dance floor. Of course the men of the wedding had to return eventually and when they did the wife left to put her glitzy wedding worthy hijab on and on the part of the guests there was much hijab adjusting. There was cake and the giving of gold necklaces, bracelets and earrings (from the husband to the wife, Hend tells me this is tradition) and then my mother decided it was time to go. And that's that my friends, you are up to date on my current position, blogging in the family room with Al-Jazeera as background noise.

The wedding was definitely an experience and I'm glad I could go but it was definitely not my style-there was just so much jewelry and glitz and glam. I'm more of a barefoot, plain, and simple kind of gal. I mean, when they did the whole 'feeding each other cake' part the cake had already been cut for them and put on forks, there was zero fun and silliness. Well, at least for that. I might be giving you a very incorrect picture of this. It was very fun and silly- lots of dancing, loud music and for their parts, the bride and groom looked pretty happy about everything. Do you see yet how I completely failed as a social scientist. Total. Utter. Failure. All of the assessments made were based on my own personal opinion and biases. If this was a test run, I have a lot to learn. Also, I realized while I was there that to be intimately aware of what was going on would take EONS. I hadn't ever realized the severity of the work of my predecessors in their hardcore ethnographies and research until then. It would take forever for me to understand the significance, popular opinion, and feelings about all of the things that I saw tonight-years I tell you, years.

Anyway- tonight I've forgiven myself for my temporary break from anthropological inquiry. I was right, it was definitely more fun to be a girl.

Well I can't think of anything more to say on the subject tonight. I've added the links of some of my fellow SITers blogs on the right, check them out. Their comedic timing and knowledge of Middle Eastern politics and culture is far superior to mine and they will definitely serve to give you a more fleshed out idea of life here because I can only type so much until even I get sick of my inner voice. So check them out and spread the blogging love!

Until next time, there are some pictures for you to enjoy below! Love to all!

 

At a cafe in Istiklal mall, look closely (I love cakes in the desert tooo!!)

 

Every morning the most delicious breakfast ever.  Eggs, feta, jam, oil, thyme & sesame, tea, and bread as the ultimate food and utensil. perfect.

 

My beautiful sister Hend!

 

Little brother!!

 

Wedding ready? only on of us really-to the right, haha. Though I did commit to some eyeliner tonight which was a large step in that direction.

 

Mama u Baba! (and Al-Jazeera with some very happy Egyptians in the background)

 

The wedding crowd

 

complete with live time projection of the bride and groom on one wall!

Alrighty-roo, type more soon! Have a splendid day everyone!

E.R.S. in the M.E.

Who would have thought thta I would be playing E.R.S. after highschool was over? Not me, I was sure when we had really heated games at the lunch table that the game would be short lived (similar to likealittle.com during finals at Trinity). Not true at all!

Tonight I came home from school to a huge family gathering including my aunts and cousins and some delicious pizza looking thing with onions and other things on it (but not cheese) and a huge spread of food. Then some other SIT kids who live near and who I am related to (Sarah, Biff, Fernando) came over and we had an awesome game of E.R.S in my room with my little brother. I learned the word for 'cheater', which I have quickly forgotten but I'm sure is written on a notecard somewhere. Then off to a cafe to do some homework and now back home watching Al-Jazeera with the family and blogging. Successful day? I think so.

Speaking of Arabic, I'm falling in love with Fusha. Seriously, the language is beautiful when written and being able to read is getting me pretty excited. Today while I was studying at the cafe with some people I was able to read most all of the words I had written to study earlier (though my speed is that of a kindergartner, I'm sure- it takes me probably up to 10 seconds to sound out the word, and we're still learning using the crutch of accent marks, which aren't used in the real world). Still, I'm excited and it's fun to write and to be able to recognize letters on signs :)

Alas, it's been quite a rambunctious day/night but tomorrow (Thursday) is our "Friday" so I've got the weekend to look forward to. There is some serious studying that needs to take place, but I'm giving myself some leeway because I've also only been here for a week now (?) and I'm still exploring everything and wanting to get out. Anyway, I think that's all for now!

Good health and happy days for you all until next time!

Mabsooteen

I'm currently listening through the muffled hallway some person leading protests in Egypt. Who knows what city or what they're saying, not me that's for sure. Arabic is impossible!!! Especially when being screamed by angry protesters on Al-Jazeera. And even in the classroom when we're just learning the first six letters of the alphabet. I feel like a five year old. And it doesn't help that today while sitting at the kitchen table after frustratingly trying to communicate with Cassie for at least an hour while no one else was home, my little brother comes in and tells me that my handwriting is terrible and proceeds to misread a word I had just written in Arabic. I am full of fail today.

The truth came out about my liberal leanings when I had a good long conversation with my little brother while both of us were doing homework about religion, gay people, aliens, devils and angels on people's shoulders, a possibility of a multiplicity of gods (brought up by yours truly), and a general discussion of my lack of skills in Arabic. Major props to him for being so patient with me, I'm sure I must have seemed like an idiot, going on about how aliens might exist, gay people should be able to be mabsooteen (happy) and get married (mumtaz!-excellent), and about how even though I'm christian (..... not really...maybe ... not really though) I don't believe in a lot of what the bible says and I don't think that it's all very nice at all. And I don't believe in the devil, but that may have just been too much. Needless to say, he must think I'm just mental but was pretty nice about the whole conversation and just laughed at me and I laughed at him and we laughed about the whole mess. He also told me that he thinks (and most Arabs think) that the U.S. government thinks all Arab looking people are terrorists. This made me really sad. It's tragic that people think this here and that he didn't believe me when I tried to tell him differently. He reassured me that he was not a terrorist and I about broke down crying because it's so frustrating that that even had to be a part of the conversation at all or that he would even think to bring it up at all. Anyway- I just wish everyone could be mabsooteen, kteer mabsooteen (very happy). I learned this word today so I've been using it like crazy and he laughed at me every time I told him that people should be allowed to be mabsooteen, even if that means they're a girl and they want to marry a girl. But it was a nice laugh, like he was talking to the five-year old that I am (at least in Arabic language). He's adorable, and probably thinks that I am adorable in the same vein. Oh well. Who knows what we'll talk about next time. In the mean time, everyone---can't we just all be mabsooteen, please??

Anyway, I need to go start searching for articles to start my lit review for my ISP (independent Study Project). For those of you who don't know, it's where they send us off for a month at the end of the learning portion of the program and we do interviews, observation, or whatever we want to look at a certain social, political, environmental, etc. question about the community and the culmination is a 30-40 page paper and 20 minute presentation of our findings. It's going to be crazy, I'm already booked almost every second of the day exploring, talking to people back home, blogging, studying, learning in class, reading, etc. So adding an ISP to that is going to be insane!

Had a good time today though- went to Mecca Mall with 2 SIT gals and just walked around. I found a Starbucks there and I'm hopeful for some soy milk and intend to go there if in dire need of decaf american coffee with soy and a packet of honey, no sugar. Oh how I long for that blessed drink. and people watching in the Galleria. Sarah, Anna, and I spoke today at the mall about how we were definitely homesick but also definitely enjoying ourselves. It seems an impossible mixture of emotions but it was great to hear two other people say they felt similarly (I'm not completely certifiable).

The cab ride home was surprisingly calm after my first solo cab ride the other day where I had to convince the driver that I did not want him to buy me a cell phone and that I didn't need anything (though it still resulted in his number on a card in my pocket).

I miss being a vegetarian, I think that's the main reason I can't wait to get back home, that and to see people. But seriously- I always thought I was a vegetarian strictly because I just didn't like the farming methods in the states but I've realized now I do actually just dislike eating animals very much. They're just so adorable and I hate that feeling of natural superiority people have as if it's their right to just eat all the animals in the world. Only 3 more months right?

No more sneaking oranges into the shower with me either (when showers even happen, haha), I bought some lemon juice today at the mall in a bottle, parfait!

Anyway, below are some more photos for your viewing pleasure (courtesy of Biff!).

 

The moment of the first bite of meat after 2 years. Notice the face- This is also my family room and from our first day at our homestay. 

My host sister (left) and our friend Aseel at a cafe.

 

Me and Biff at the cafe also (so much smoke it's painful)

Alright, off to study, love to you all until next post!

Marhab-ten!

Two hello-s is better than one I guess!

So this morning started out with an odd taksee fiasco which I will relate in person to anyone who is just dying to know. We took a trip around Amman today and stopped off at the Temple of Hercules that was excavated here...(I think it was built by the Romans??) Anyway, it's the image on the banner of the blog so I got SUPER excited that we were there (mainly because when I made the blog banner I had no idea what the structure was, just that it popped up in a google image search of Amman and looked pretty). So here are some photos from our jaunt there featuring some of my new awesome friends in SIT.

Had our first classes today- mainly introduction to everything. Arabic so far is great- I'm surprised at how much I know just from being with my family for a weekend, it's pretty cool! Hopefully that will continue. Except today it took us about 30 minutes to cover the first letter of the 28 letter alphabet, this does not bode well...

Speaking of host family, food here is sooo delicious (zake!). Also tonight and last night I had a lovely dance party with my mom and sister in the family room. dancing here seems to be a usual group thing at the end of the day- I'm a fan. And it takes a lot more skill to dance here than in the US, I probably still look like a dunce but I'm trying!

We went to Istiklal Mall today and it was almost exactly like the Galleria at home except everything in Arabic and an abundance of second-hand smoke (bleh). Pretty fun but no Starbucks to sit at and people watch for hours. I'll need to look around for a cafe or something like it to hang out in and do homework, I feel like it's the only thing really missing. But I'm not sure if that's a "thing" here, you know? We'll see...

Hmm, I'm trying to think of random things to relate that I'm taking for granted everyone understands because I'm here and you're not. Taksees here are super cheap ($3 at most anywhere in the city, less usually. Ho hummmm, can't think of anything at the moment though I managed to sneak an orange into my shower from the kitchen, win! (on both the shower front and the orange). [my sister just sneezed and taught me 'saha' instead of bless you: this is more a reminder to me than to everyone reading, haha] Anyhow, enjoy the pictures, will update soon. Hopefully with something more meaningful than this randomness that's only vaguely interesting.

Also, excuse the make-up-lessness in the photos to follow. An unfortunate side-effect of too little mirror looking time and not enough reason to care. Maybe I'll care tomorrow, who knows!

 

Ginny, me, Sarah! <3

 

Sarah &Sarah (so many of us!)

 

Seriously, buildings every inch- I wasn't lying!!

 

Annie, Tim, Biff at a weird angle

 

A more normal picture, I think I prefer the first one ;)

 

Made it!! 

 

Haha, It's no longer the banner of my blog mes amis, I was actually there, beat that!

 

menfolk of SIT!

 

Sydney and Ginny!

Alrighty-roo, that's all for tonight, must go do homework and stop dancing, playing, blogging, and generally being a goof! Academics first in any country! Love to you all!