immobilized

WED 14th 11:11pm
yesterday morning, i sat squished in the front seat of a taxi with another girl from SIT on our way to school. they are five girls in my neighborhood, and to save on the extra 3 USD it takes to get to school, we cram into one taxi every morning that only has four seats. Because of my size, i'm blessed with the adventure every morning of finding new ways to squeeze my frame into the space left over once everyone else has taken their seats. The ride passed as normal, the traffic slightly heavy with people trudging to and from work i suppose, our driver was a bit more enthusiastic this morning, telling us of his two wives (one in Palestine, one in Amman), and speaking of the situation in Palestine. Not interested in continuing the conversation, i tuned into the radio broadcast that he kept switching around... first some arab pop music, then some bbc news, and then to a local station having a call in session on the topic of public transportation in Amman. Now this is what i was interested in. Why the hell am i crammed uncomfortably in a cab spending nearly 6 times as much as i spent in one morning to take a Micro bus to school in the morning in Damascus, and what does that say for the rest of the people in the city trying to get around. At least in Damascus, the city is small enough that you can get about anything you need within a good walking distance (i also enjoy long strolls, so this is clearly relative). Here, the many hills/mountains with Amman is stretched out upon divide up the sprawling city, and i haven't even thought twice about walking somewhere (although i'm probably in need of the exercise). needless to say, let's get back to caller number one from the show. It was a lady living in East Amman, and she complained about how much it costs everyday to send her 6 kids to school. She pointed out that if you don't have a car, public transportation seems to be just as expensive and possibly more so, seeing that the bus system isn't well enough established, leaving you only with a cab drive, which just from one section of town to the next costs a USD (let alone from one end of the city to the next). As i was listening i kept reminiscing about the micro rides i miss so much from Damascus, and thought of asking our cabby what he thought about the subject, but decided against it. I wasn't in the mood with dealing with him and his grin.
The subject came up again to my mind today during our thought provoking lecture by a local 'think tanker' at the University of Jordan. Although i forget exactly what topic we were on at the time, something dealing with local uprising in the community of Amman, revolutionary thoughts of the people and such, a student made a comment: "Where are these 'slums' we talk about." Exactly. We haven't seen them yet. We've been here for almost 2 weeks now, and i've barely looked upon a shabby part of down, except from a distance, and even then, i would not have labeled them slums. Is it because we have no interest in going, or is it because we've felt immobilized by the public transportation system. Everyday i have to strategically plan out my trips around town because I'm so money conscious, especially with the steep comparison of city transportation here than to Damascus. I spend just on my trip to school in the morning, what i would probably have spent in a week last semester. So am i the only one immobilized, perhaps not only am i too money conscious to go the these "slums" but also people in those slums general mobilization to get out of them themselves. in terms of revolutionary consciousness, perhaps a factor of simple section to section immobility that has an effect on the spread of these thoughts... or perhaps does it inflame thoughts of revolt? The woman on the radio show was clearly unhappy, but what was her response to this unhappiness besides calling into a radio show? Do people take advantage of the radio waves as their public transportation, do they use the internet? Is there a connection between physical immobility and immobility of the mind?
Of course these thoughts are in direct relation to our speaker today, who led us to believe that there is no public uprising in Jordan at the moment because of the level of economic stability alloted from American aid. I will never know if in fact this 'immobility' that i speak about exists in these 'slums' that i still haven't seen. But i speak from my own experience as an American within this city, who while having the means to move around, struggles none the less (obviously there are many factors that have to do with this: time, the distance of the house from the city center, finding people to join me, etc.). It's just a thought.

-let me not forget to mention the immobility of the maid in our house, whose story i just discovered recently. but that's a different story.

I also have many thoughts responding to the actual points our speaker brought up today, but I'm definitely in need to sort them out before attempting to address them clearly. until then, here are some topics i'll most likely be dealing with:
- defining modernity as where "reason dominates" among many other things
- speaking of the values that Arabs need to inherit to truly modernize their system both politically and economically--> referring to starting this in schools with basic values of : not lying, being success driven, motivated to solve problems for themselves. This all in relation to a comment made later on the necessity of killing a certain person in politics saying "he needs to be shot, and you can quote me"... perhaps also addressing how we solve problems for ourselves should be addressed.... Also relating these values as a set of cultural instincts that need to be changed within the family structure, and specifically gender relations (perceptions of women from men and women upon themselves). I couldn't help but cringe a bit at this discussion, hopefully i'll figure out why soon.
- related to this, the "facade of modernity" in the Middle East.

random convo's

Tuesday Feb 14th 11pm
More things of notice today:
With the family today there were many interesting conversations. while sitting down and playing with the A3bla (the small) at the kitchen table, Ahmad and Rai3ad (son of brother A3beer) were sitting eating shawarma, and this was the first time that i finally got to speak with Ray3ad even though i've seen him multiple times. He asked me questions about whether or not i had a license, and when i was able to start driving, asked about traffic, and which is better. he also asked me to compare damascus to Amman. He asked about paintball guns. He asked me about the types of animals that i had in my house also. When we were on this subject his dad made it clear that he wanted to leave. He called Ray3ad and said that he was leaving now, very sternly, Ray3ad said just a minute, as he wanted to continue listen to me talk about the type of animals i had at home. But then i told him to go, his dad had already walked out. But i guess what happened is that while ray3ad was getting ready, his dad actually left him... and didn't come back to pick him up to take him home. It was kind of funny, and ray3ad was upset, but later some other relatives that were over took him home. What was funny was the discussions about why his father did this that came up later after ray3ad had left. A3mr, which i'm thinking is A3beer's brother as well (father of A3bla the small one and Bishbush), who is kind of a much softer spoken person, made a point of talking to A3beer about it, but he spoke so low that no one except a3beer could here, and i don't know what he said. after he had left, and old a3bla had come over and the whole family was describing the situation to her, they were talking about many things, and i'm not sure if i caught them all, but it sounds as if there was some reasons that had to do with other family relations for why Ra3yad's father was so intent on leaving, and didn't care to wait for his son. they also described him as easily mad and anger, kind of rash i guess, but they thought it was a funny occasion. I was wondering the whole time if it was because he was speaking with me, and his father didn't want him to be speaking to me, but that never seemed to come up in the conversation (i'm not sure if they thought i was understanding what they were saying or not). A3beer also said something about "mudelela" and ra3yad's father not wanting him to be spoiled, but i'm not sure in what sense she met (perhaps in just following his fathers orders, or in another way). Anyways i thought it was funny that he just left his son.

There was also another interesting conversation about giving food/accepting food. Essentially what happened is that the family had bought shawarma for everyone to eat tonight, but only really our family ate it (just them who were hungry i guess), but when A3mr and his family were leaving, Batool/A3beer offered them the rest of the sandwiches that were eaten to take home. A3mr at first refused and then they began the whole, 'no take it' and then 'no it's ok', then 'no just take one' ok i'll just take one, ' no take more, you all need it more' then ' but you all need it' here we'll keep one for Muhamad and you take the rest' ok, fine. The whole argument i'm normal... i had thought it was a normal exchange while it was going on, and a3mr just seemed to be replying in what i thought was normal. But later Batool made the point to say that it was funny how a3mr got upset when she was offering him the food. She essentially just pointed out that she wondered why he got so "ma3sub" when she offered the food, when they had bought it for them. Originally i was surprised that she had made this comment because i thought the interaction was something completely normal, not anything unusual in the way of polite "no's" and such ( i didn't think that he had gotten upset), but then i realized that i feel like this family has a completely different outlook on food, as i'm used to expecting from families i've dealt with. When i refused the eat the sandwich because i wasn't hungry, it wasn't a problem, and i wasn't asked again. i don't know, i guess i just really don't know what are the "polite" things now. I could also be misinterpreting how Batool really felt about the situation, but i guess what i'm really just surprised about in general is again the idea that i don't really know what's 'normal'. Perhaps i'm over analyzing the experience, because i'm so worried about every move that i make around food.

FSS journal thing?

So for those that read this who aren't a part of SIT, my blog is going to double as a "journal' that we have to enter weekly for an anthropology course. so these will be a bit weird and talking about a lot of wierd things. I'd love to hear comments, because i'm finding that i'm really in need of a new set of eyes to see the world i'm in. Sorry that this one is so long, but the past few days have been quite jammed.

Monday February 12th, 2007 8:56 PM
So this will be my official first journal entry, although i've been writing in my own personal journal, on a blog, and also on my computer. I will try to insert some appropriate sections from those entries into that one to get some good recap on how i've been feeling ever since the home-stay has started. There are so many things to think about and say i'll just address the ones that are mostly on my mind at the moment, and hopefully i'll be able to recap most things through more entries. Perhaps the most important thing on my mind at the moment is reading my place in this house. Every since i've arrived it's been an awkward situation, which of course is expected, but i think my expectations were much different from what is going on now. This started ever since the very first moment i came to the house. When i came to the house i came with Monica (because her house mother was working and wasn't going to be at home... her house mother is also the sister of my house mother, so i see her often, and it would later be convenient for my house sister to take us over later in the afternoon considering she is her aunt). Anyways, when we arrived at the house... which is an actual house mind you, multiple floors and standing by itself on a hill... we were welcomed only by my house mother a3beer, who seemed a bit quiet and out of sorts. She had the made show us where my room was immediately and we took my bags downstairs... where i have my own room and bathroom. i was astounded by the size of the room/bed/ that i had a desk/ and especially my own bathroom. It is only I and the maid (JenJen) in the basement, so it's like my own little apartment almost. Anyways, after we brought my bags down, I returned upstairs where A3beer and i sat in the non-special welcoming room (i.e. the living room that they sit in all the time around the HUGE screen TV, watch tv together, nap, read, do homework, and where the close family comes and sits at night to chat and hang... they have two other welcoming rooms, one which is just for sitting with all the fancy decor of the welcoming room, and than also a second one which is half dining table/ sitting). I haven't seen them use either of these sitting rooms yet for welcoming guests yet). Anyways, so Monica and i sat with her, and conversation was slow going. We were speaking mostly in Arabic i believe, but it was all the small talk of getting to know eachother... but not after long she made it clear that she wasn't feeling too well... she has just had an operation done and has an IV in her arm, which i hadn't noticed at first (it wasn't hooked up to anything at the time). Then she went upstairs to call the oldest daughter Batool, who was asleep. so we just sat in the room by ourselves., eventually Batool came down, she is my age. She had clearly just woken up, was in her pajamas. Again more small talk, but nothing of access, then she was moving around in the kitchen i think. Eventually we were all just sitting in the room watching the TV in silence. I didn't really know what to do. Finally, someone came to show us where Laura is living... just in the neighborhood, and we ended up going to her house and then down also to Amber's house for a bit. Both for very short times. Then Monica and i returned to our house, and as we were walking back we noticed a car pull up with an older man and a younger girl walk in our house... it turned out to be my second sister and father. the sister said hello i think, and that has been about the extent of our conversations since. The father said hello. Lunch was ready at this time. Eventually the youngest son came, and he was the most enthusiastic about speaking to me... but in english completely. he likes speaking English. The meal was very interesting.
It was magbool (upside-down, which i've had before and enjoy very much). For the meal we all gathered round in the dining hall... the oldest brother (22 years) didn't come until after we had started. The meal was very informal to me, everyone served themselves (unlike how i was always served in Syria), no one insisted that i be served first, or that anything special happen to me. No one insisted that i eat more. they just asked the polite, 'would you like more' and then 'shba3ti?" and that was it. Thing i noticed that i was expecting, the father was served by the youngest daughter... and also the older brother was served by her if he asked (sometimes not always). We ate in silence, i actually literally didn't say a word the entire time. I didn't know what to say and the family didn't seem at all interested so that was that. Also about the oldest brother... I said hello and shook hands but there has been absolutely no conversation or eye-contact made between us ever since, which is mostly my doing i guess, because i'm not particularly interested in dealing with that (of course that's a whole other subject). Anyways, the meal was silent, they had some conversation in arabic among themselves, i understood mostly but didn't comment. Then the youngest brother finished first, said his "alhamdallah" and "atsslem eideik" to his mother, took his bowl, got up and left the table. didn't come back. After him was the oldest brother, then the youngest sister, than the oldest. Monica and i were still eating... actually is was mostly just me and the father still eating and i felt that both monica and the mother were staying out of politeness. eventually the father left, and the mother sat patiently. I finished the meal, she said her polite "eat mores" and "shba3ti?", i said my thank you and thank gods, and i took my plate to the kitchen, where the maid cleaned them. everyone had gone off and was doing their own thing. I felt as if we had interrupted their life, or perhaps as if i wasn't even in the house. so i went down stairs with monica to organize my things, we stayed down there for a bit and then came upstairs. when we came back upstairs, Monica's homestay mother, A3bla (a3beer's sister), had come and was speaking with a3beer. we sat down a bit. afterwards, batool, ahmad (youngest brother) took Monica and her mother and i to her house. There we moved her stuff in and then sat in her living room a bit, again around the tv. Batool made us nescafe, and then eventually her and Ahmad, started up their aunts computer and were using her internet. We talked about TV, movies, music. After A3bla prayed (she prayed right next to us as we talked and watched TV) i spoke with her about her life a bit. She was the one most willing to speak to me, and to also speak with me in Arabic, which was refreshing. She was much more lively. She showed me pictures of her family and her travels. I started the conversation with her by commenting on the shawl she was wearing, which she had gotten in algeria... where she had lived a bit. she talked about how the design was "taqleedi," and although i can't remember the specific conversation at the moment, we also spoke about how it resembled work from over her. i think i made some comment of saying, ' oh that looks palestinian" and then there was a comment about it being "arab". then i asked about if it was arab or berber, and then we had a discussion about the difference between berber and bedouin and arab i think, but i can't remember the details. we also talked about her daughter a bit... she had no qualms about mentioning the fact that she got a divorce, she said "after two years they had made a mutual and good agreement that it was no longer right to be together". and that was that. so yeah eventually she prayed again, and afterwards, Batool, Ahmad and i returned home. Here i will insert part from an entry i made from that very night

"Then we came back and then we sat for the next like 5 hours, in the living room around their HUGE screen tv, while family came over to visit... i'm not exactly sure who they were, but it was two couples, one with two daughters (one with downs syndrome, but cute as ever which they call bushbush, and the other a little older, named a3bla as well, but who they call a3bloo i think). They would often play the game "bah bah" which is a tickling game i guess, with bushbush, waiting to see if she would laugh when she got tickled or not. The baby was so cute, and very observant, like overwhelmed by the world. and would latch onto your hand if you put your finger in her palm, and also follow your finger if you put it in front of her. mostly the tv was on american stuff, but was on the news for a bit, which i enjoyed. Anyways some interesting conversation topics : talking about one of Ahmad's friends last name as "Taweel" and how they had to clear up the name and try to decifer where he was from ... A3bla (older) thought it was "asafraa" or something...which i'm assuming is a tribe or city, but then they got into saying that there are some Palestinians with that name. Later in the night, talking about water always seemed to come up. the one couple with the young boy (forgot to mention the 2nd couple), the woman in the couple mentioned how now her water only comes out hot now after some smelly gas, and that before it would come out but never get hot. there was an argument between the men in the two couples at one moment, which i think was talking about a personal fued within the family, something that had happened in the past. the one man A3mir i think, got very mad quickly and they were both yelling, but eventually it just ended with him smoking and A3beer being the mediator just repeating, 'it's in the past' and such things. A lot of the talk was baby talk with the kids. i feel at one point there was one commet made about the talks in Saudi right now [between hamas and fetah] saying,,, "what are they really saying...' as if nothing's really going to come about in the dispute. A3beer talked about the pain she's in, and how she's dealing with him. They had to put a new iv in her in her hand for her medicine, the iv in her arm had gotten swollen. I was trying to notice these "direct" language things that the packet was talking about. One i remember was the one man asking "Muhammad wein?" simply, muhammad where... which in english would be, where is Muhammad... i guess the whole fact that you don't even use "is' in arabic in the present tense... who knows what that really signifies, but just that it's there. "

But of course i could go on and on about the details of the past few days. Here is the summation of what i've done. On Friday, i woke up late, ate breakfast that was left over (by myself), and then sat around most of the day. Went on a walk with Ahmad to the store and around the block, returned, then went for a walk also with the girls in the neighborhood. this was the first time that i had to deal with unwanted male attention since coming to Jordan... there was just a car full of guys that followed us around, threw out the usual "you speak arabic" and "oh my!". Otherwise it was sitting around the TV and such things. Then at night we went to an engagement party. A few important things happened there that I'd like to mention. First of all... upon arrival, it was the second time i saw my older brother, but i made no contact with him, nor he with me, upon entering the party, while he said his hello's and such to his own family. Once we got to the party i was completely ditched. I shook hands with the people welcoming everyone, but no one introduced me. I was kind of just walking around aimlessly until ahmad told me to go sit in the big room where the women and children sat. i sat awkwardly by myself, just watching people. there was a bunch of younger boys staring, but i just ignored them, and eventually they stopped. I didn't talk to anyone. Eventually A3beer called me over to her couch, so i just sat in silence again. By this time the dance party had started... there was a DJ and two huge speakers, playing the music so loud that you could literally feel it in your body... and i was sitting right next to the speaker (by the end of the night i had to leave the room because my ears hurt so much... especially my right ear, which essentially could no longer function.). The first dance was just done by the bride and groom, but after that women and boys joined in and were dancing. most of the older women were covered, but others not. younger girls in teenage years were normal clothes by american standards. the music was arab pop. some older songs would come up too, and the old women were dancing as well. Dancing went on for forever. i had to make break aways into the bathroom just to get away for a bit. i didn't speak to any men at all. they were in the separate room, but at one point when i returned i was sitting in a place in clear view from the mens room and noticed that one younger boy was having a fun time getting a look, i just kept ignoring. Eventually the men started coming into the dance room and dancing as well. A few rounds of debkeh with men and women mixed. They exchanged rings at one point and then kept dancing. Still no one speaking to me. I essentially didn't exist. No one offered me the drinks/foods/sweets that were being offered, but i think that was also just a part of missing me, not intentional. at one point finally a girl came up to me and started speaking with me... Natasha, british mother and Palestinian father, we spoke about amman, and volunteering in the city... she will be a good contact. anyways, eventually the music stopped and people started shuffling out (it had been about 2 to 2.5 hours of dancing). then just the closest relatives were left, which my family is a part of. I sat next to Batool a bit and we spoke a bit, i asked her about the arabic names (khal/khala/ a3m...) of everyone so that i could get the family straight. then eventually all the kids wanted to leave to go 'out'. I came with. we fit in two cars, but i was stuffed in a car with people i mostly didn't know... so there was more of my silence, and once again, no one speaking with me. we ended up just driving around the city a bit, listening to music, and before we got to go to a restaurant or place to hang out they had to head back because of being called by their parents. Then we came back home, Batool, Ahmad, Rayia (the younger sister) and i to our house) I slept.

Saturday i was out of the house mostly, at SIT and then we went around to al-luweibdah and to darat al-fanoon, and also al-anda where they were actually having an opening for a new art exhibition. It was an interesting crowd there. The exhibition was focused on the leaves of al-nakhlah (the date tree). She also dealt a lot from the poetry of al-khalil gibran.

But yeah, the only other type of general event that i want to speak about is how the family comes over to this house. Every day there have been people over at night. Saturday night a bunch of people came over, and we ate Fatoush together. all in the living room around the TV. Discussion ranged from buying cars, talking about the babies, arguing about cigarettes, A3beer's health, talking and playing with the baby, talking about the absurdity of the american movie that was on (Especially my father was mesmerized by the film, and kept making comments like " why is she doing that, is she crazy?" and "it doesn't make sense") It was a horror flick that i hadn't seen before, and i joined the group by the end, they had the sound down, but i was reading the subtitle in arabic as everyone else was (happy at that moment for the many hours of early morning tutoring that i spent with Ghazwa in Damascus learning how to read more quickly) and was able to keep up... while also able to learn a few new words like 'stable'. by the end of the film we were all just paying attention to the film, as it had reached it's climax and the crazy woman trying to kill her daughter in law, was finally getting caught. in the end we never really ended up speaking about it, because eventually one of the older ladies made a comment to turn off the TV because there was no conversation (mentioning how sad it was that we were all gathered but weren't doing anything but being mesmerized by the TV). The film was weird, so i'm kind of glad they didn't just turn to me and be like "what the hell was that...". [ i would like to insert that we've had other conversations about american tv as well... for instance last night the lord of the rings was on, and they began by commenting on how weird and stupid the movie was. i explained that it was an amazing story, as a book, and also as a film, mentioning the fact that the author was so creative that he made up his own language in the books (which hopefully is true... i'm not actually that avid of a LOTR fan). Either way they didn't seem to care. At this point they still kept watching the movie, and i felt it was because i was there and made a comment about how nice a film it was... thus they would be keeping it on for me (perhaps), so i decided to headed down to bed anyways, to make sure they weren't trying to appease me, because i never really watch TV anyways).]

But back to family gatherings. There is also a family gathering going on at the moment, but i've been studying and didn't want to get stuck into sitting around a TV and just listening to conversation, so i asked Batool if i could come downstairs, and as always, she responded with the "khoothi raHtik"... which seems to come out of my mothers mouth or any other's whenever i ask any question [ "is it alright if i go out now? is there a set time you want me back at night" -Joab- "Khoothi rahtik"- "when may i take a shower?" "Khoothi raHtik, inti, ishee bidik khoothiha, tirtaHi"]. But let me stay on track. These family gatherings, they seem to go pretty long. For instance, the last guest to come is "Hajji" who i'm guessing is A3beer's father, which everyone gets up to greet formally, with the kisses and the whole nine-yards. When he comes late, people usually only stay for a bit longer, and then he seems to sit with A3beer after everyone leaves. I'm not sure if this is because she's not well, or if this is a normal occurrence... but she had another operation yesterday, so she's actually been feeling worse. I don't know when she'll start feeling better.

Ok, i've spent too much time detailing things and not really saying what's been on my mind, but here's what i've been feeling in general. For the most part i feel as if i'm either not that welcome in the house, or i've just misunderstood what my role with the family should be. Luckily yesterday i was able to get in some good time around the TV with the women of the family, and really start speaking with them in Arabic, i got them comfortable enough to realize that i can communicate well enough with them in Arabic, and especially made them realize that i understand nearly everything they say, so we started speaking more easily. Perhaps it was the atmosphere of women that made the situation more comfortable. [NOTE: this was also the time i met the first women of the family who i spoke with about religion... which is when i really got some people's attention. We were sitting over lunch, this women, my father, and I, and i'm not sure what came up, but she started quoting the Quran, specifically a Surah that i had memorized from when i did recitation last spring. Actually i remember now. I asked if there was a specific name for the two different types of Olives, the black and the green, and she said no, and then she started speaking about the healthiness of olives and started "at-teeni wa zeitooni wa touri sineen"... i.e. Surah aT-Teen (Fig). she went through a through lines of the surah, enthusiastically, i was nodding along, trying to remember the coming lines, and then she continued speaking with my father about it. Then i finally came up with the next line "laqad khalaq alinsan fii aHsan tuQaweem", and from there we began speaking about religion, and how i had memorized a few. The father made some comment about him constantly being surprised be how much i knew of arabic, but then was done with the meal and left. Meanwhile i continued to speak with this lady about Religion... she started making an interesting argument about how all religions are the same as long as we believe in Our God "rubunah", but i just went with the nodding head response on this one because i wasn't in the mood for the conversation. Either way, throughout the afternoon she was definitely the most interested in speaking with me and talking in general. She commented on my beauty, comparing me to one of Rayia's friends (saying that i looked like her) and also asked me about the beauty of Shamy women. We both agreed that the women from the North are prettiest (i said Aleppo, because i've actually had discussions about this with women before... i don't know that i really believe it, and we can talk about exotifying women later, but for the sake of conversation i agreed) She then agreed with A3bla the older (A3beer's sister/monica's mom) that women from Homs are the most beautiful. I said i hadn't really been there. She also told me the story of how the Sphynx's nose in Egypt was broken (by Napolean was her story), and i told her how i thought it had been done on mistake by the Sculptor (me not knowing the story at all and only having the image in my head from the Disney movie Aladin when Aladin and Jasmine fly by on the magic carpet and scare the sculptor so bad that he cracks the nose and it falls off... i guess it's not Jasmine's fault after all...)] But yes, i think i do need to be aware about the assumptions that i've made about this family even before getting to know them. I had some built in defense wall put in me as soon as i heard they were wealthy, because i'm always a bit weary of wealth in general. Unfortunately I feel like i'm blaming this confusing position that i have with the family, on the fact that they're wealthy, and perhaps "different," and "less arab" (who knows what that means really...). But by no means am i unhappy. I appreciate to know end, the hot water, the great food, the privacy they've given me, the generosity thus far (which truly has been more than anyone could ask)... i guess i was just expecting to be forced into an uncomfortable situation, and instead i've found a comfortable one, besides the feeling of distance. Perhaps the distance in their family though actually comes from the amount of space they have in this house though. the house is 3-4 floors total (basement included), and when i think back to my tutors house in damascus, which fit about the same size family (3 kids/ two parents) into two bedrooms smaller than mine here, a closet size living room, a formal welcoming room, and a kitchen (all of which is probably combined smaller than the size of the basement floor of this house), I can imagine that family relations would be made a lot closer in such a space, and perhaps that the same type of relationship would be forced upon people they met as well. (My tutor ghazwa and i were much closer even when we still barely knew eachother... after the first time she invited me to eat at her house, she made me call her as soon as i arrived safely home, and when i forgot to call her, she called me within 10 minutes after i arrived home to double check... as opposed to my family here, i told them i'd be home at 10 at the latest after the rock concert we went to, and when i arrived home at 10:20 it was as if they didn't even know i was out... of course, there is a different concept of time in general here, and perhaps they do have the same concern, but i don't know).

Determined to keep up with this...

This will be another quick one. We're in the final stages of orientation at the moment... having finished up our placement exams for Arabic, and gone over where and who our homestay will be (that we're moving into tomorrow). I'm still stuck not quite knowing what to make of this experience... i still feel like i'm just on a tour (perhaps because we haven't started classes yet). I can't wait to get back into the stress of information overflow on the mind. once again, i feel as if there is so/too much to learn, i just hope i can take it all in. Somethings that i'm trying to keep in mind as we move through these processes together. What things are my privelege making me overlook... who/what/where/ and why am i not seeing/understanding something around me? I feel like this program is so structured that my experience is pre-packaged. Which is both comforting but also not... what things do i need to change in my mindset to really be aware of what i'm doing here?

Luckily yesterday i got a chance to catch up with Paul, one of my (our) friends from Syria as he was staying down in Amman for break. We exchanged gifts and things, but most importantly stories about the happenings in Damascus, and the well-being of my friends. I also recieved an email today from Owais (ath-thanee... i.e. the owais that was the son of my tutor) and for the first time i really felt as if i missed my teacher and her family very very much, and sincerely. perhaps because it just feels awkward for me to feel so comfortable here in Amman, because my experience in Damascus was just so emotionally taxing... it's as if i actually miss the social pressures that made me uncomfortable for so long, because otherwise i feel like i'm just having a fake experience... does that even make sense? Luckily though, i'm moving into my host family tomorrow. i found out today that it's actually quite a big family... 2 parents (father a doctor with private practice, mother a supervisor at an Arabic school, 22 year old son, 20 year old daughter, 14 year old daughter, 7 year old son). It's definitely going to be interesting to see how the size of the family and their ages all interact. I'm really looking forward to it. (i feel like i've said those last two phrases about 100 times in the past hour... with all our conversations of what to expect from living arrangements with rural and local homestays).

so i don't know. i'm happy. i kind of feel like i'm out of reality and i need someone to snap me back into it, but i'm just going to do what i can. we'll see. ok, we're heading out to the mall/dinner. exploration time.

peace

Recieved in Amman

This will be a brief blog, but i've come to the conclusion that i must keep up with this blasted site in order to help my friends and myself really relate to what i'm going through. So I arrived in Amman last night around 7pm local time, after about 31 hours of travel from leaving Duke on a beautiful Friday morning, to arriving in rainy and cold Amman to our nice hotel. My SIT group of 15 students is staying in a the same hotel for the next few days as we go through a 3 day orientation. I haven't really gotten to see that much of the city, as we've only been bussed out to the SIT main stay and then to restaurants and such. This experience is definitely quite different from that of Damascus, and so is the city. The city seems much more vast.... the rolling hills are filled with these boxy buildings attempting to be white. I don't know why, but the city seems a little less accessible to me than Damascus, but i have only been here one day and haven't had a chance to get acclamated to the bus system that i was forced into on my first day in Damascus. And now that i think about it, my first days were actually quite quite different. In Damascus, i slept through my alarm to have my two soon to be syrian friends Jannat and Fadi banging on the door to take me to get my AIDS test, teach me how to use the service, dragging in between swerving cars, yelling at me to run, stay, catch up, throwing names of streets, bridges, and buildings at me like i was a wall for post-its. and all of this was in Arabic. Here i woke up early on my own (probably by virtue of the fact that it was no more than 40 degrees in our hotel room and couldn't sleep well) to finish up a book review, then have a relaxing continental arab breakfast, to then be shipped in our little tourist bus of 15 americans and led all in English to our comfortable office where we prepared coffee and tea, to get us through the process of orientation to Jordan and the time zone.

I'm extremely excited about this experience to come though. I know that i have so much to learn from every single person on this trip, and i can't wait to see in what settings and converstaions i will find new ways to percieve this world around me. I am worried that my Arabic may fade a bit in the beginning as everything seems to be in English. Luckily, i'm feeling comfortable at the moment at where my Arabic is. I can't wait to start studying it again though (it's like a drug i swear). But yeah, I'm too tired to focus right now, so i'm just going to get some sleep and start reboosting my brains energy.

happy gurney

Dear all-

I'm once again having a hard time thinking of what to write, because there seems to be so much that I should talk about, and yet that doesn't come to my mind when I think of writing to friends and family. For that reason, I’m just going to write a simple update on the events that have happened since I’ve written last, and will leave the creative inspiration for later.

So I'll begin with my 9 day break that I had between my first month of intensive Arabic classes, during which my three friends and I (Allison, Lizz, and Owais) went to Istanbul, Turkey. It was an amazing trip. The first night we were there we broke fast (it was still Ramadan then) with one of our teachers from Middlebury at his house. He, his family, and his house, were probably the cutest thing we had seen in forever, so we loved spending the evening with them, dining on some amazing home cooked Turkish food (which actually ended up being the highlight of the food in Turkey because we essentially didn't eat any other good food for the rest of the trip), and playing with their two young boys. Our teacher had also given us a small tour of the University that he teaches at before we broke fast, in which we met a famous Calligrapher who had actually given an exhibition in America...and guess what a small world moment could have happened when it so turns out that the exhibition was at Duke my freshmen year, and i saw it when i was there. crazy.
But yes, for the next 5-6 days, we explored practically every corner of Istanbul, rain or shine, tired or not. I think it's safe for me to say that we all fell in love with the city, and i definitely believe it's the most beautiful city i've ever been two. It was quite funny because as soon as we arrived we were asking ourselves why we were studying Arabic instead of Turkish, and on the day we were leaving i sincerely didn't want to go back to Damascus. I'm not sure if it was because of the feeling of being closer to a "developed country" or "western culture," or perhaps just a break from the stresses of Damascus, but I was taken away. we also got to celebrate the 3 days of Eid Al-Fitr there (i.e. the end of Ramadan= eating during the day) so that was also a nice touch.

So when we returned to Damascus I think we still have a few days before classes started up again at the University, in which I’m sure i slept more than necessary. And then began a much more intense month, that has finally come to an end just a few days ago. So with Ramadan over, and moving up to the "Advanced" level of the program here, my schedule got changed around a bit. I now meet with my Tutor (not with the university) every morning at 7:10 until 8:40) where we focus on reading or talking. And despite the early hour (she's a half hour trip from my house) i do tend to enjoy getting the day started early (unless of course i end up getting only a few hours of sleep because of it...which happened often this month). My favorite part though is that we sit and drink a hot cup of coffee together before starting the work, which always warms me back up from the chilly walk from the bus stop to her house.
Afterwards i walk to school (20 minutes), which starts at 9. Being in a new class we had two new teachers this time: one woman, very sweet but liked to talk too much, who taught us Literature, Newspapers, and Speaking, and then a Man, who i turned out to not like that much at all, who taught us "politics", which turned out to be more like "let's discuss everything that's wrong in terms of politics and use America as the best example of all these problems, despite the fact that i "believe" that America's not the only problem." He also happened to be the fasted speaking Arab i've ever met, refused to slow down, and also refused to let others speak, and if we didn't understand something that he considered simple, would simple repeat the phrase "you all are in the Advanced class now, you are supposed to know this." At this, I of course became upset by the end of the month, which i think he began to sense by my constant outbursts to try and prove him wrong...which eventually lead to him nicknaming me "qunbula" which means "bomb" in Arabic (not translated into the American slang "the bomb" but rather the actual machine that explodes and kills people). This class lasted for 4 hours three days of the week, and for 5 hours two days of the week.
after class we would usually go get some grub, or take care of business in terms of travel agencies, copying papers, and everyday needs. More than often i would return home pretty late, only then to be too tired to start my hwk, which often led to me sleeping and then waking up at odd hours in the morning like 3 or 4 to start my hwk before i headed off to my tutor. On the weekends, of course we were off and running though because of our new found "energy" after Ramadan. the first weekend we spent Friday going to a small village close to the Lebanon Border with some of our friends from the company that we are using to arrange our housing (Arabesk). We spent the whole day just eating and talking from a house that had a wonderful view of the mountains and village below. And even though we arrived home late, in celebration of Lizz's 21st birthday that had pasted in Istanbul, we took up our friend Lena's offer to head out to a British party in Bab Touma (one of the parts of the old city, almost completely Christian, and where nearly every foreigner lives). It was quite odd as we entered, because of the first time I was surrounded by only Brits or American's and despite the Traditional Arabic house, I felt as if I was back in the culture of American drinking parties (except of course upper class British style). We didn't stay long. When I finally got home I was utterly exhausted, having gotten up early on the day I have claimed as "catch-up sleep day", so I decided to skip the trip on Saturday to "Chac De Chevalier" (spelling) so to rest and do hwk.
The next weekend we went to Palmyra on Saturday I believe, which was extremely beautiful. I road my first camel, and won my first race in a game of "don't touch the ground by jumping from historic ruin to fake new historic ruin". It was nice to get some fresh air from the middle of the desert.
The next weekend we went to Aleppo, which was too short a trip, and I was too sick to enjoy it. Essentially Aleppo is a nicer version of Damascus, with nicer people (especially the women), more souq's (cheaper also), and more old city to explore. we headed up on Friday morning, stayed in a nice little hotel, ate in the restaurant that allegedly made the largest Fatoush salad ever (the picture of this was quite funny) as well as houses the largest kebab skewer (about 6 feet long I think), and explored the old castle that rests on a huge hill in the center of the city. I definitely would like to return to do some more cite seeing as well as get into the souq's to get some good bargains.
We finished up this last month of classes on Thanksgiving with the final exam. But no worries, we thoroughly enjoyed our own version of Thanksgiving here. After the test we managed to scramble up as much Thanksgiving food as possible which ended up being mashed potatoes: reg and sweet...although sweet potatoes here are different from ours... some sautéed veggies, 3 roasted chickens, apple sauce, and some friend apple cobblers like thing that was amazingly scrumptious. Perhaps best of all is that in the end as we sat down to eat, it truly felt a bit like a real Thanksgiving, as we all shared something we were thankful for and explained to our French and Chadanian friends what the holiday was all about.
Then I returned home, and as any good way to inaugurate the break we now have between our last month of studies and our final one coming up, I slept from midnight to sunset the next day. The past few days I’ve been exploring the old city and the markets, looking for bargains on gifts and such. Yesterday I went on a little tour with David (the French roommate of owais's) looking at some old traditional arabic houses in the old city. It's really quite amazing how you can walk down these streets so easily and completely miss the hidden treasures that lie hidden in the walls.
So that's about it for update...nothing exciting I’m sorry. Lizz and I had also tried to start teaching English at one of the Palestinian camps a few weeks ago, but the library that was setting it up never called us back, and we were simply too busy to remember or to set up another appointment. Who knows.
I hope all are well, and that the Thanksgiving holiday was one to remember. I miss all. and to my friends at Duke, why the hell have we already lost a basketball game... it's not even December yet. I’m glad I’m missing out on this season i guess.

lots of love,
Zoë

oh, and highlight of the past few days: seeing a bus that had "Happy Gurney!" written on the two sides in huge green letters with a nice little 80's flair of yellow squiggle in every letter. The mistake is easily explained by the tendency of some Arabic dialects (mainly the Egyptian one) to switch the "jah" sound with a "gah" sound... because most of these busses have "happy journey/jurny/jerny/jorny/jorney" written on them. But i think this one took the cake. my gurney is quite fine thank you.

after ramadan

so although i very much wanted to add this email/post as just another thing to the after Ramadan list, i've found myself at my house empty and with no homework, so i figure i should take advantage of the opportunity while i can. Once again, i don't have any direction to this as of yet, so most likely it will be a random stream of thought... enjoy.

So essentially ramadan is a lot harder than i thought it would be. In the beginning the fasting is harder, for sure, but you have the patience in the beginning because you feel like you're just embarking on a new journey, and no matter how hard, it's still exciting. For me that excitement started faded pretty strongly in the past week, and especially the past few days. But it wasn't the fasting that was bothering me, because as of now i almost feel completely normal while fasting up until right before maghreb, when my eye-lids start drooping no matter how hard i try to keep them alert. What i think was wearing on me was the feeling of being completely out of control and incapable of fixing my situation (i understand this is a vague thought, but i'll explain). Essentially for the past 3-4 days i've been on a quest to find a place where i can get a certain vaccine for the SIT in Jordan program next semester (if you're interested in the details, it's the pre-exposure rabies vaccine because i'll be living with a bedouin family far from a hospital for 2 weeks). But the shot is actually a series over time, so since i've changed my plans to travel to Pakistan over X-mas and New Years with my friends here, i've be on the hunt to get it here so i won't have to end my journeys earlier. So although your initial thought might be "Zoe, just go to the biggest hospital and even if they don't have it they'll know exactly where it is,"... nice guess, but don't think so. Although i don't want to go into the full detail of the wrong directions i got, the number of wrong buildings i went to, the money i had taken from me, the weird people trying to help me but who only freaked me out, the drivers i had yell at me, the times i almost and did break down crying, or the full day of classes i missed, i will say that i have a new found respect for foreigners in America, especially one's who can't speak english very well. For, as myself, when i set out on this journey I was certain with my innate sense of direction and ability to get things done efficiently it wouldn't take more than an afternoon. What i found out instead is that my Arabic is pretty damn weak, especially in colloquial (which was needed to get this job done), and that there are times that no matter how insistent i might be, my 5'5'' slim frame in a womans body just doesn't get the job done like a 6'2'' well built Arab man (who is essentially the only reason i think i'm remotely close to getting the vaccine now). Of course, i wouldn't go as far as to say that this relies on the male part, for i'm sure my house mother, Hala, with her well over 250 pound build could part the red sea like moses if she wanted to. Really what i think it is, is a different attitude to getting what you need done. For instance, here there is no concept of "the line" really. I have people cut me on a regular bases: women, children, men, old geezers: to the bus, to food, to a door, for a question. They don't give a second thought. And nudges and a little shove is all fair game. The instance that i reference with this 6'2'' character took place in the center for testing AIDS (another wrong address i had been given) where there is always a line of about 40 people creeping out the door and into the street. The doctor who does the tests inside is probably the scariest person (let alone doctor) i've ever seen in my life (he took my blood the first week i was here for the mandatory AIDS test from the University... not only did he go at my arm like a kid trying to pop a balloon with a needle, but was screaming at me the whole time about what i should be doing ..." WHAT ARE YOU DOING? OPEN YOUR HAND!!!!" I don't think he stops yelling ever. So me being me, of course i would have waited in the long line, and if i had ever reached him by sunset probably not get my question across in time for him to care, as i fumbled over my broken Arabic. In fact, the first time i had gone to the center about 15 minutes earlier, the guy standing at the door simply told me to go away, and that i wasn't in the right place. But what did superman do? get this, it was amazing. He simply walked passed everyone (he was essentially taller and bigger than everyone there), everyone moved aside for him, walked straight up to the doctor who was yelling at someone in the hallway with probably 15 men surrounding him waiting to talk to him, interrupted him with the usual greeting "salam aleykum. Keefak", and asked about the vaccination. After he briefed the doctor, he pushed me forward so i could explain the details (doctor still yelling) and after a brief conversation where of course the doc directed me to another location that in the end wasn't right (but was the final location before the actual correct one!) i was amazed that i had faced the monster again, and gotten more than an answer of "NO! NOT HERE!" So thank you super arab man, i've learned the necessities to getting what i need... just need to gain a few pounds and learn some arabic and disregard my normal instinct of 'politeness' (unfortunately i think i'm succeeding at the former more than the ladder two... but at least its at the hand of some damn good food and sweets).

as for the title of this post "after ramadan" which i kind of hinted to in the beginning, i was trying to point to the general difficulty of getting anything done during this holy month. after school is the tiring time, so it's usually filled with a nap, and after iftar is also a tiring time (the itus to full effect) and it's also dark, so doing things in some way must be pre-planned as a group, because it's just better to walk around at night with peeps. But alas, the night is usually filled with hwk and rubbing of the belly. Thus everything has been pushed back a month, better class after ramadan, start volunteering after Ramadan (this was actually what was asked of me, not my lacking of interest in starting earlier), eat in a healthy manner after Ramadan, exercise after Ramadan (including weekly soccer matches, which i've extremely pumped about and simultaneously scared of), find better places to shop in Damascus after Ramadan, weekends that aren't just filled with sleeping after Ramadan (let's hope), more exploring after Ramadan. Of course the things i'm going to miss might be more important than what i think will be better, for there's truly nothing like coming together for Iftar with people you barely know, eating some pretty darn good home cooking, and then simply resting the night away talking about nothing and watching the TV as one more day of effort has been passed together. It's funny that the more i've gotten fed up with Ramadan, the more i seem to really understand the meaning of it, for only now can i even vaguely imagine what it would be like to be forced into fasting days on end without choice, and how quickly the world view changes when you're in that position. I know i haven't taken advantage of this month as well as i could have, for i've spent more time being ill-tempered than i thought was even possible for me. Thus i only hope that it's a beginning of rethinking the way i live my life, and what i do with the choices i can make from day to day. But of course, all that thinking is gonna have to wait... at least until after Ramadan.Wow, that wrapped up well. So to all family and friends, I hope you are well. I love hearing from you, because even though i thought it was impossible, i do have moments of being home/friend/america/ and even *gasp* Duke-sick (please remember that "Duke" in this context does not refer to what the masses might think of as "Duke," but rather the small few and far between aspects such as good friends and teachers).Forward on to whomever you wish.

Lots of love-Zoe

.P.S. the rain came yesterday, and turned right from hot summer into chilly winter. No such thing as subtlety in these parts, right to the point.