Hold onto your seats... this is gonna be a long one. Somehow I just got incredibly busy between class, homework, yoga-ing... oh! and trying to master an incredibly difficult language. Mish mushkela (no problem).
So I believe last time I updated we just got settled into our apartment and started class, although there were no students at the university yet since we started a week before the rest of the students. Oh so much has happened since then. Where to begin.... Mazin. So we met Mazin on our first day at the university. We were all sitting in a room and waiting for Munther to finish talking with the president and he brought in juice for all of us. Then as we started going to class he was always sitting on a bench outside our classroom in the Language Center. Every day. And no... he wasn't just taking a break or reading a book, he was doing absolutely nothing. He does that. Everyday outside our class from the time before we get there to the time we leave. Munther said he is in the Muchabarat (aka Jordan's version of the CIA or secret service). We guess his job is solely to always be with us or around us when we are at the university. Besides the fact that this is moderately creepy that Mazin is just always there, he is a pretty nice guy. He knows all of us and we just greet him everyday and don't ask any questions. Hanan, Selowa and I are pretty sure when we go to Syria he is going to show up in the background in all of our pictures haha. Sarah is pretty sure that the Muchabarat is reading all of our emails too and thus know everything about our background and lives... if so... hey Mazin!
In general the fact that Mazin just sits around all day and does nothing says a lot about what most people do in Jordan - or at least this is how Munther takes it. It is as if every one who works needs a friend who sits behind him and smokes. Not to do paperwork or work behind the scenes, just for company. So essentially everyone is always just smoking and drinking coffee while nothing gets done. Not quite as bad as India in my opinion where everyone seemed to have a non-job. Aka someone opened the right door for you and someone opened the left door and another person greeted you. But it is certainly far from the case in America where one person works all day incredibly hard and has multiple responsibilities.
As for what has been happening at school... so much has happened! Our first week was relatively slow considering school hadn't started for the rest of the students. We started on Sunday as the school week runs from Sunday to Thursday considering Friday is a holy day for Muslims. So since school was relatively slow we decided to take Thursday off for the first half of the day and go to the Palestinian Refugee Camp. As I think I already mentioned before over 50% of the population in Jordan is Palestinian. So as a result a large group lives together in an area that spans about 12 blocks. In general it is known as a poorer area so at first my mind went to my experience touring the largest slum in Asia in Mumbai, India. Although this time I think I was more mentally prepared. In India I assumed, knowing nothing about slums, that most people were very very poor and did not have jobs - hence they had to live in a slum. Oh how I was wrong. The biggest slum in India (not to mention Asia) is a thriving city. Everyone works and pays relatively high rent for their small homes. So while I knew slums like those in India did not exist in Jordan, I also knew that the refugee camp wouldn't be just a congregation of Palestinians without jobs. ّ And like I thought it was just like another city or part of town. In fact, I really really liked it there.
We spent most of our time walking on the main street where there was open fruit and vegetable markets, cafes, clothing shops and small places to eat. What was even better was no one spoke English. YES! Finally I don't need to persuade someone not to speak English to me! So we split up into three groups and I walked around with Hanan, Jafar, Nasr and occasionally Munther. First things first, Hanan and I wanted to order some Arabic coffee - sounds like me, no? So we went to the nearest cafe (please do not picture something like a Starbucks here it is more like a hole in the wall) and asked for some coffee. Now in Arabic, coffee is Kahaweh. But there is something about the "caf" aka letter k sound that makes Arabic speakers want to pronounce it differently depending on the region. So as we were told before, most women say "Ahaweh" and do not pronounce the "K". So we said... Can we have some "Ahaweh". The man at the cafe did not understand us at all. So we repeated the word about three times, knowing that surely he must just be thinking we can't speak Arabic and thus is not listening. Finally it dawned on me to say "Kahaweh" and he said, "OHHHHH Gggahaweh." Yes, gahaweh. So if people don't understand me because they see me and assume I'm speaking English (when of course I am not!) it is comforting to know that they can't understand me even when they know I'm speaking Arabic. Eek.
Now for a few pictures from the camp! Here is a little boy who we marveled over - adorable, no?
These are the kids we talked to for a while. Okay, so mostly we just asked their names and they played with our cameras but still.
Hanan at the fruit and vegetable outdoor market.
Ah! So we were lost after making a few wrong turns so Munther asked this little boy if he could be our tour guide and take us to the main street. He basically barely talked and just listened to his casette player with a huge smile on his face. After he helped us Munther gave him some change for his assistance which he tried very hard to refuse before Munther stuck it in his jacket pocket.
The rest of the morning at the camp was great. We talked to a group of kids who were absolutely adorable. We even talked to this older man who said he used to be a professor of English about the difference between Fusha (written Arabic) and Amea (spoken or street Arabic). Oh! And a man at the fruit market gave me a "Boomali" for free. For some reason I still haven't opened it but the fact that its name is "Boomali" made my day.
Over the weekend we had quite a treat. On Friday while all the boys went to the mosque to see all the men praying, Munther's brother's wife came over to the girls' apartment to cook with us. I learned so many Arabic words for food and cooking! She said we were cooking "Mukkloub." So first she put onions and chicken together and cooked it. Then in our other kitchen she poured a crap ton of olive oil into a pan and began frying cauliflower. They were literally swimming in olive oil. Next she fried the chicken. Then she put the cauliflower on top of the chicken and onions and a ton a rice on top of that. Then in one huge pot she cooked the rice while the chicken and cauliflower was in there. And what did she add? The remainder of an ENTIRE LITER of olive oil. I physically cringed when she poured it in. Then she had a bag of chopped almonds to put on top of the dish when it was done - but thought it would be a good idea to fry those too. When the rice was finished cooking I learned why the dish was called "Mukkloub" (translation: inverted). She took the entire pot and flipped it onto a huge dish so the rice was on the bottom and the cauliflower and chicken was on the top. To top it off we sprinkled the fried almonds on top. Amazing. And if it didn't already look delicious - oh man - you should have tasted it. The liter and a half of olive oil just might have been worth it minus the kabillion calories. I probably ate three dinners worth of food as did everyone else - and there was still about half or more left. Jafar didn't even stop to breathe he ate so much chicken. Note: all Jafar talks about is how he wants chicken. Overall it was a great experience talking with her and learning to cook Arabic food. Also I felt like it was a day in the life of a traditional Arab woman given the fact that the girls stayed and cooked the food while the men went to the mosque.
Mukkloub! The far dish was the one with chicken and the closer one was vegetarian. The picture doesn't do the amount of food justice, unfortunately.
Us together sitting at the table before we all ate. From the left: Jafar, Sarah, Ghawwar, Hanan, Khalid
As for my general experience here it has been quite a roller coaster. Near the beginning of last week I was feeling quite discouraged, and after talking to a few people they seemed to be in the same boat. I was feeling as though everything I had hoped for in conjunction with the Intensive Arabic Program was not going the way I planned. To begin, we are not living in Zarqa like we planned, so while Amman has more to do, more people speak English to us. More importantly, we do not have Jordanian roommates. I felt as though my Arabic was not improving. Thus, to create a picture in the form of a metaphor, I felt like as a class we were up in one of the minarets attached to the mosques. Peering down onto Jordanian culture from above with no way of actually ever knowing, in reality, what it is like to be Jordanian or live in Jordan. I moreover felt dissappointed at how well, subdued, Jordan seemed in comparison to India. India is this incredible country of constant shock and excitement that was bursting at the seams with issues, corruption, racism -- really anything a sociologist might wish for in life. But Jordan? Sure, there are Palestinians that may still feel a stronger connection to Palestine than Jordan, but there seemed to be no prominent issues, or any issues that were easily accessible to discover as a student from America.
Furthermore, I felt incredibly trapped by the program's organization. Something I learned about myself in India was that I hate, no despise, traveling in large groups. While I do have patience I tend to get frustrated when a big group cannot make a decision about something so simple as where to eat lunch. Meet Cornell in Jordan. Everyday I felt like I was on a class field trip. Newsflash - I am no longer in high school and have experienced far too much freedom being on my own in college and abroad in India to feel as though I need to answer to a teacher or follow along with a group. But since as a group we live together, eat together and go to school together, I am basically only on my own when I am taking a shower. Don't get me wrong, I really like all the Cornell kids and having some company, but I was feeling a bit like I was still at Cornell, just half a world away.
Thankfully, things started to change. First off, we discussed how many of us were feeling in class and Munther made an important point - it had only been a week and a half. Why I expected to be fluent, knowledgeable about all the intricacies of Jordanian society and street smart after only a week... I do not know. Second, I recognized that it is going to take some time for us to make friends and essentially go our own ways. I have to expect that in the beginning we really only have each other as a group. As we eventually make friends we hopefully will be able to hang out and do things in smaller groups. Lastly, I realized there actually is much more to Jordan that first appears to the eye. Maybe even as much "drama" as there is in India. Maybe. The issue might be that people are just more protective here of how they appear in order to make Jordan look like the best country as it can be. It is in its nature as a country to be difficult to infiltrate, psychologically and socially that is.
So for now I am working on my patience. My Arabic will get better. I will find friends (oh please let me meet some friends). In general, however, I am incredibly happy. Just speaking Arabic or understanding others speaking to me puts a huge smile on my face. What is more unbelievable, at least to me, is that I don't miss Cornell. I mean, I miss Cornell because it might just be the best place on earth (I am a tour guide after all) but I don't miss it like I thought I might. I would so much rather be here learning about a new country, culture and language. انا مبسوت كثيير
More to come, as usual. Salam.
love. love love love. you are so legit.
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