Endings are Beginnings

“Ends are not bad things, they just mean that something else is about to begin.” – C. Joybell C.

Reflections

As my time in Jordan is coming to an end, I’ve been able to reflect a lot about what I have learned and experienced here. I am truly thankful for the opportunity to have lived in Amman with so many dear friends to share the challenges with. When I reflected on what I have accomplished here, I settled on a short list of 4 things that I am especially happy about.

• Advanced fluency in Arabic

• When I arrived, I was fumbling my way around giving directions to my taxi driver, but the longer I’ve been here the more confident I have become in my language and what I can achieve with it.

• Empowerment in a place that often strips it away

• Four main things have empowered me in a place that often strips away any power you think you may have: language, connectedness, sharing, and physical strength. I’ve progressed an incredible amount especially in dialect here, thanks to my tutor Sarah. Connectedness has helped me because I have a smartphone and 3G which means I always feel connected to my family and Farid, or the internet when I need it for translation or information. Sharing, because on average I share my life stories with Sarah for 3 hours per week, and it has been the coolest experience to connect in a second language and find my personality there. And finally, physical strength, because when I am frustrated and don’t feel welcome on the streets, I go to the gym and have a sanctuary of respectfulness from both genders and a place to challenge and strengthen myself.

• Putting my energy into something of value

• Whether it’s the kids I’m teaching how to write cover letters and CVs, or the girls I’m playing basketball with, or the high school students I’m helping get more civically engaged, it is fulfilling to know that your energy is going into something that has lasting value.

• Making sense of a bit more of the world

• I recently read an article about how the world’s best problem solvers are those who have studied or worked (or both) in a country very different from their own. The article said that these individuals are better able to make connections between seemingly unrelated things, and therefore think more critically and analytically. I’m privileged to have had this year to be able to make just such connections – and learn the skill that will stay with me cognitively for the rest of my life.

Dead2Red Race

As described in my previous post, on March 13 a team of ten of us ran 240km to raise funds and awareness for Reclaim Childhood. It was a grueling 21 hours of running without sleep, in the rain, without facilities –  but oh, so worth it. Plus, we raised over $2,000 for RC!

Daily things

Since February, I’ve been teaching two classes at Princess Sumaya University. The first is the same MIS Business Lab that I taught last semester, but thankfully this semester I only have 15 students and we are able to do more activities in class. The students in class are surprisingly respectful, receptive, and quiet compared to last semester and my other classes. It has been a pleasure working with them to learn how to write cover letters, CVs, and have successful job interviews. I like teaching useful things.

My second class is the Technical (Business) Writing class of 55 students. The number in a writing class alone is daunting, but I’ve used some strategies to keep the classroom under control. I have also forced quite a lot of writing on them (a handwritten exercise every class) and many homework assignments. Again, I’m teaching them extremely useful material –  many things I wish someone had taught me before I went to university. Subject matter has been: professional emails, CVs, cover letters, interviews, reports, proposals, bibliographies, etc. We have also been learning things not having to do with technical writing: the cost of plagiarism, why you shouldn’t always be late to class, teamwork, and last but not least how to format in Microsoft Word. It has become painfully obvious that your average student has not the slightest clue how to format Word, use proper capitalization and punctuation, and other basic things. Many of them are close to graduating.

The other morning, when I walked out from teaching my class at 9:30 a.m., I saw this lovely duo plowing the rose gardens.

Reclaim Childhood

I’ve been volunteering for an organization that seeks to empower girls through sport, play, and teambuilding. Reclaim Childhood is the same organization that we ran in Dead2Red to support. Over the last few months, I developed a rudimentary English curriculum for residents of a safe house, and taught the children the curriculum (with Arabic as the language of instruction). It was a challenging but rewarding experience to watch them start at a,b,c and 1,2,3 and build confidence in the language, and writing skills. In addition to writing the curriculum and teaching it, I also volunteered to play basketball and soccer with the girls every week.

One extra project I did with them was a PR campaign for the girls to be able to participate in the Dead Sea Children’s Marathon in Amman. I created some posters and Twitter/Facebook posts to send out, and then when the big day came I went to the race and the after party. It was sweet to see many Jordanian kids running together, or with their parents. During the after party, they had some giant Sesame Street characters dancing Debka (an Arab dance) up on the stage. So much to love.

AMIDEAST Jordan Internship

Beginning in March, I’ve been working on a team to develop a civic engagement course for marginalized, low income high school kids across Jordan. The Access Program funds 24 teachers to instruct over 400 students in English for 400 hours, as well as giving them a 20-hour course in civic engagement, problem solving, and critical and analytic thinking. My team has been responsible for developing the civic engagement 20-hour course from scratch over the last few months. We will also develop a teacher training workshop curriculum to explain the course and the strategies for teaching it effectively.

During the time that we were researching about civic engagement in the Jordanian context, we attended two student science workshops in the Access Program and met the kids we were developing the course for. It was fun to hang out with them, speak with them, and learn about their schools. We also asked around in the Jordanian community about what they think about civic engagement, and got a better understanding of what it means here. Altogether, the project has been very fulfilling, but also many hard hours of creative thinking that leaves us feeling exhausted.

One of the science workshops that we attended was creating a solar oven with a male class. They cooked us marshmallows, which ended up delicious.

Another of the workshops was a circuits tutorial for girls. They created a little house that had an electricity system inside.

Petra and Wadi Rum

Thanks to a dear friend, I finally made it to Petra and Wadi Rum after being in Jordan twice, and living here for a year. My favorite part of the experience was that we did everything in Arabic. Just the two of us went, so we had the leisure and time to slow down and learn more as we experienced the beautiful places. We hired a tour guide for Petra, and learned a ton about history as well as Arabic vocabulary. I was glad that I went to Petra at the end of my year here, because I understood 90% of what the guide said – plus how appropriate that I learned everything about Petra in the language that it “belongs to” now! We also had some great conversation with the restaurant and hotel workers, where at one lunch we paid only half the price because we talked to a kitchen worker from Syria about how he can enter the university system. We also had our tour of Wadi Rum in Arabic, which again made it much more special. Success! As expected, the views were breathtaking and the history was remarkable – Petra being a city that was built over 500 years (twice the life of the USA) and was abandoned between 500-1800 approximately.

We went to Petra by Night, which had 1500 candles lighting up the Treasury and the pathway to the Treasury. Then, of course we had our tour in the day and then went camping in Wadi Rum.

 

The little things

Then there is the Foosball Tournament at a local mall, where “real live boys” hold onto a rail and act as if they are the little bobble dolls in traditional Foosball.

Or Sarah’s surprise birthday where I negotiated the whole surprise with her mother on the phone in Arabic. Her dad drove us back after the dinner and party and we listened to American music coming over the radio waves with the windows down and the cool spring air swooshing into the windows.

Culture

I’ve been learning a lot about culture by studying the local dialect. During my Arabic lessons, I’ve  been listening to a local Jordanian comedy show, “Female,” that premiered during Ramadan for the last two years. I’ve learned a lot of the jokes, and the ways culture defines language and vice versa.

Claire and I went to a classical music event the other night, which was refreshing. However, performance etiquette was lacking in the audience. There was no putting away of cell phones or sitting still, and there was much whispering in not-so-quiet tones. Hard to not be annoyed when we were both raised to be so still and quite to appreciate live performances.

But, endings are beginnings

I’ve already subletted my apartment for summer, and I will be leaving Jordan at the end of June. With this ending, I’m beginning a new chapter in Egypt.

I’ve been job-searching for two months, and haven’t heard anything back from Cairo, but I’m hoping that will change soon – especially since I have only a short time before I arrive. I’m sure I will have plenty to write about my new life there.

 

 

 

Spring into…

Spring seems to be in the air, although in February Amman should still be having rain or snow. We’ve had unseasonable sunny weather in the 60s and 70s during the day –  which of course we have enjoyed but which is also bad for agriculture here.

I’ve had a break of around a month from my university, and I have resigned from my internship with NFH/IFH due to not being able to continue my time commitment there (including the 45 minute commute both ways and taxi fares). I’m now looking for new opportunities, and I’m excited to open a new chapter to life here in Jordan for the last 4 months I am here. Yes, only 4 months left! Hard to believe, especially for me since I feel I just arrived.

Visit

Farid came to visit for a few days once his introductory EgyptAir course (ABC) was finished. I rented a car and had a lot of fun driving around in Amman and outside on my own. It’s much easier to navigate here than in Egypt. We headed out to the Dead Sea for a day, but mostly stayed in Amman doing normal things like going to the gym and the mall. It was wonderful to finally see each other after 6 months, and we were fairly content to just spend time together.

Christina’s School

Christina’s school started up a couple weeks ago, and she invited Hesham, Matt and I to come as guest conversation partners with her students. We had breakout sessions where we had them ask us questions, then asked them questions when they ran out of ideas. The kids were nice, but I can see the mischief in their eyes that leads to her having many stressful days with them.

Christina’s Classroom

Christina’s Classroom

Dead2Red

10 teammates and I will be running a 240km ultra-marathon relay race from the Dead Sea to the Red Sea on March 13. This breaks down into each of us running 24km (roughly 15 miles) over 24 hours. Our current strategy is to run 1km leg sprints and rotate out – no matter how you do it it will be grueling. I’ve been training by doing 1km runs at 11km an hour (around 8mph) and on a 1-2% incline.

Our team and two others are running to raise funds and awareness for a local nonprofit organization in Amman, Reclaim Childhood, that seeks to empower girls and young women through sports and recreation. I’ve also started volunteering with the organization on Thursdays where I assist with a basketball workshop and rudimentary English classes. This workshop is based in a safe house called Dar Alaman, and it cares for boys and girls who have nowhere else to go. I’ll be designing the English course activities weekly for the students, and participating in the basketball and English sessions. If you want to contribute you can donate here; every dollar helps us cover team costs, and 50% raised will be given to Reclaim Childhood’s programs.

New Classes

Last semester, my intermediate English students decided they wanted me to teach a technical writing class this semester. They were very organized in their strategy to get me to teach it by first asking me, then the Chair of the department, then getting a petition signed that asked for a new section be opened with me as the instructor. After weeks of it seeming to be hopeless, the section was opened and now over 60 students have registered. I’m happy that so many want to take the class with me, but 60 students in a writing class will be a bit overwhelming.

In addition to teaching this writing class Mondays and Wednesdays from 8:00-9:30, I’ll also be teaching a lab on Sunday nights from 2:00-4:00. The lab only has a few people registered, so it will be a nice change of pace from my larger class. Although I’m dreading the early morning writing classes (since my commute is 45 minutes), it will be nice to get my day over early.

In other PSUT news, I’m finally going to have  place to hold office hours. The English faculty were moved to a  new building on a new part of campus that has opened up, and there is a outside teachers’ lounge where I can hold office hours and do prep. I think/hope this will ease the issues I’ve been having with communication with the department and administration by me being physically available for two days a week on a regular basis. Before I had no-where on campus to sit or keep my things while teaching, so I basically just came for class and then went back home.

New Campus Building

Conference

This week is the midterm Fulbright Enrichment Seminar, and I’m in a hotel 5 minutes from my house as I write. We are required to attend, and required to stay in the hotel which seems pretty weird, but it has been surprisingly nice. The seminar is really a conference where we see all the other regional ETAs and present on what our assignments have been. It’s been nice to hear about other ETA experiences, such as the classes of 200 students in Morocco that put my classes of 60 to shame, or the 5-day a week teaching assignments. Overall it has been a positive experience. We are on day two now, and have two more days to go.

High School Debate

Last weekend, I volunteered to judge high school debate teams for a fellow Fulbrighter Claire Wilson. She has created a debate team at the high school she teaches at, and 3 other schools attended as well. We went to King’s Academy for the debate, and spent the day on their beautiful campus (45 minutes out of Amman).

King’s Academy Campus

High School Debate Judging Team

Food Poisoning

For the last week I’ve been struggling with food poisoning for the first time in my cognizant life –  salmonella poisoning from under-cooked chicken (which I embarrassingly made for myself). It’s been almost exactly a week since I ate the offending breast, and illness has been coming and going. It seems I’ll have a good day (feeling normal) and then a horrid one where I spend the whole day in bed with extreme nausea. Today was a horrid day, and I slept all day in the hotel while everyone else attended the conference and toured the city. I finally went to a pharmacy to get some Tiberol, a bacteria-killing prescription, plus some probiotics. I’m hoping the combination will settle my stomach since I need to keep training for Dead2Red.

Jazz Nights

Because a few of our Fulbright friends are in a local choir, they know the lead singer of a local jazz band in Amman. Each Tuesday night they perform at the Blue Fig Restaurant in Abdoun, the more upscale part of Amman, and a couple Tuesdays ago I went to hear them perform and really enjoyed it.

Blue Fig Jazz Nights

ESL

I’ve been taking an online ESL certification course by Tesol Express so that I have that in my back pocket when seeking work in the future. So far it has been good, but I only have about a month to finish it and I haven’t made the progress I had meant to. Maybe being sick is a good time to get it over with. I have been learning good strategies for teaching language, and I’m glad I invested in it.

Happenings

Well, it’s been another week. I can’t report on anything especially exciting, but I want to share a little bit about the things I’ve seen and perceived over the last week.

I’m “home alone” for Christmas, but not really. Most of the Fubrighters are back home, and the remainder of them are in Bethlehem for the holiday. I’m going out on Christmas Day with Sarah and some of her friends to the mall, which I’m looking forward to a lot.

Christina’s parents are here for 10 days, and they too went to Bethlehem this morning. They brought us lots of goodies like fudge, cookies, peanut butter cups made in Rochester, NY, and gluten free ginger snap cookies. They’re staying in Matt and Hesham’s apartment while they are away to the USA.

We also got a tiny Christmas tree for the house, and a few lights.

Miniature tree

Coping with Cold

I wrote a lot about the storm last post, so I won’t repeat. But it has remained pretty cold at night. Our landlord brought us a little space heater, and now we can have a warm bathroom for showers. Also, he is buying carpets for all the units – making him the best landlord I’ve ever had.

Everyone is dealing with the cold differently. A lot of the street cats are suffering just as people are. The other day I saw a little tabby mashed against a light that was lighting up the sidewalk. I’m sure he was gaining just a little bit of comfort from the bulb.

Plagiarism

So, I’ve written about the issue of plagiarism here, and the steps I’ve taken to avoid it in my essay assignment for my class. Only one student plagiarized his whole essay, because he wasn’t in class when we were working on the assignment together.

I handed him back his essay yesterday, which had a “0%” and the word PLAGIARISM underlined in red written on it. When I handed it back to him, I explained that he got a zero because I could tell it wasn’t his work. I also told him that if he wanted to get any points at all for the assignment, he would have to stay after class and write the essay again from scratch under my supervision.

After class, he did come back. I gave him the rubric, and had him write it by hand. I corrected it, and then gave it back to him to rewrite with the corrections on my laptop. Each step the others students had to do.

When he was finished, it was a great essay, one of the best I had gotten. I told him it was good, and helped with punctuation errors. He argued that it was a “weak essay” and I explained that it was a strong essay because it was exactly what I wanted –  for him to learn the writing process and produce something with his own effort. If I want to read a stellar essay, I can search for one online. I also had to explain to him that he could have probably gotten a full grade had he just done this in the first place. 100% means completing the assignment that is based on my expectations for my students’ understanding of English. There is just a disconnect about what the purpose of the essay was.

As mom put it so well, “well, Julie Dear, you’re teaching more than just English in your class.” I guess so.

Wheelchairs and Strollers

Driving home from a restaurant where the four of us had dinner with Christina’s parents before everyone left, I saw a window display that had a wheelchair right next to a baby stroller. As mom always says about having children, “remember that you’re not having a baby, you’re having a 90-year-old in a wheelchair.” It may seem pessimistic, but it just means that you will bring a human into the world who will experience all ages and struggles of life, along with the good.

Too often, we compartmentalize humans into age groups, when we all have so much in common. Why not sell the wheelchair next to the stroller? Why not remind people that these two stages of life that require dependence on others are not so different after all?

Care Packages made of Slippers and Snowglobes

Christina’s parents brought my mom’s care package from the US to me. It contained the much-anticipated slippers, and my dear brother send me snow globes to remind me of snowy Montana. He laughed when I thanked him for them, and said that he sent them to be before it snowed in Jordan, so I got the real thing too.

My feet are so incredibly warm all the time now, and there isn’t a moment (besides showering) that I don’t wear my new fuzzy slippers in the house.

Fuzzy Slippers

Snow globes from Eric

The Weight of Snow

Because the snow was very deep at my university, a lot of the trees on campus fell over. I took some picture of the fallen trees and sent them to mom, and she wrote a poem “The Weight of Snow,” below.

“The Weight of Snow”

So tragic.

The start of the layers: light, seemingly weightless flakes, like air currents themselves, drifting

and like Time, like Life-lived –  the layers obliviate the original scenes and purposes

so heavy that the unprepared are broken and fall.

Those who begin “too early” living the burden of the weightless

may stand under the layered sophistry –

– strengthened by the weight of snow.

-Debbie Elder

On the occasion of receiving from Julie Dear

digital photos of broken trees in Amman,  Jordan

Dec.23, 2013

Work and things

I’ve been trying to sort out what I will be teaching next semester. One of my pre-English students asked if I could teach a section of the technical writing class, so that is in the works with the administration. Ideally, I would like to be on campus just two days a week, because it’s a long trip to the university to teach for just one hour.

Hopefully, I will be teaching two classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, but I might be teaching one class Monday and Wednesday, and one class Thursday.

A lot of what I try to communicate gets lost in translation. Often things are misunderstood, or I end up in the wrong place or with the wrong assignment. It teaches a person to be much more flexible and forgiving. We all expect it from one-another.

The Snowpocalypse

Endearingly known as the snowpocalypse, the last week has been an event due to historic rain and snowfall in the Middle East, and Jordan has been no exception. Webdeh has had around 6″ sticking, but other areas in Amman have seen over a foot. The roads are impassible, and the city has shut down on some type of combination of a state of emergency and national holiday.

The leaves began changing to yellow right before the storm.

The rain set in before the snow. Paris Circle.

The Jordanians have enjoyed the snow for the most part, but I do think they are ready to go on with their lives. The young men (especially in the streets), have become a bit antsy, and as a result the harassment has gotten worse. Since foreign women are sometimes the only females in the street, and definitely the only unchaperoned ones, then we’re bearing the brunt of unwanted attention.

The Jordanian Thanksgiving

On a lighter note, Sarah’s family invited us over for dinner the other night, and we were treated to a feast that can only be compared to an American Thanksgiving dinner. The table was enveloped by food: malfoof, maqluba, mahshy, kabobs, and four different desserts. We had a lively four hours of conversation in only Arabic (Sarah’s family is the sweetest, most welcoming, and nonjudgmental group of people I have ever met). We also met another of Sarah’s students, Alexandra, from Russia, who is interning with UNRWA.

Our tutor, Sarah is on the left. Her friend Alexandra from Russia was also with us at the dinner.

The Rajl Talj – Snowman

On Wednesday, when it started raining with purpose, I told Sarah (my Arabic tutor), that if it did in fact snow, I would make a snowman on my window balcony and send her a picture. Little did I know that I would actually be sending said picture just two short days later.

The mini snowman on our window balcony.

The snow in Paris Circle.

The Essay

My students turned in their essays last week before the storm hit. 35/45 of them submitted it, meaning that 10 students lost 10% of their grade. I don’t think they are all that concerned, because I haven’t received any emails from them. I was actually really happy with the results; it was an opinion essay asking them to identify the three things they believe they need to be successful in life. Many chose hard work, perseverance, focus, etc. and I commented on their essays that I hope they will use these qualities and beliefs as they pursue their own goals. I also had them identify obstacles to success, and make a connection between the obstacle they chose and the quality that can help them overcome it. An example of this would be hard work overcomes the obstacle of laziness.

The Umbrella

On the day the snow really hit Webdeh, I was studying with friends in Cafe Strada, the closest thing that I can find here to The Break Espresso in Missoula (my old haunt). It has brick walls, no smoking allowed, the best espresso I have had here, and a laid back atmosphere. They also sell things like salad that I am able to eat. After grading around 30 essays over 4-5 hours in the cafe, Hesham, Christina and I braved the blizzard that was going on outside, and tried to find a taxi to take us home.

Cafe Strada

When there was no taxi in sight, we decided to make the 20-minute walk home in the snow. Mind you, I didn’t really bring snow-proof boots here, as I was not anticipating said snowpocalyse. So, within minutes my feet were soaked, and wet snow was plastered all over us. My head would have been unprotected and wet too had I not had my handy dandy umbrella along with me.

So we slipped and slid along the wet snow up and down stairs. The only other people on the street were shabab (young men) throwing snow balls at one another and us. Snow etiquette in Jordan? Like not throwing snowballs at the asses of some women you don’t know who are walking by? Nonexistent.

After we passed some snow-throwing youth, Christina told me a guy that had walked by us had touched her inappropriately. He had gone away, so we just kept walking. However, about 3 minutes later, when we were halfway down a long staircase, he caught up to us and asked Hesham where downtown was (which was a stupid question since everyone here knows where the balad is) and I suspected he had other plans. He walked past us, then slowed down so much that we had to walk back around him. Hesham was out in front, and Christina and I skirted wide around him, because we both knew this was the same guy who had been trying to feel her up.

I hung back a bit as Christina passed him, and when I saw he was starting to move too close to her, I lowered m umbrella and wound it up, just in case he tried something. Then, I saw him move in and start reaching for her butt, and I immediate whacked him over the head as hard as I could with the closed umbrella. He ran off down the street and I yelled some flavorful insults in his direction and told him he’d better run.

We made it home not long after that, after feeling like every shabab lurking in the snowy night was grabbing for us. My umbrella was ready in hand.

On Rainbow Street outside Cafe Strada after the first snow stuck.

Snow blowing seen from inside the warmth of Cafe Strada.

Meanwhile on the home front…

Some of the other Fulbrighters or other expat friends in Amman have been without heat or water for three days into the snowstorm. So, those of us who do have heat and water have been having  them stay over, or at least come spend time in our houses so they can shower and eat hot food. It has been eye-opening to see the difference in experiences among just our small group. The story has been much the same throughout Amman, where some neighborhoods had two-meter drifts, and others had barely a sprinkling.

Many of the Fulbrighters have been volunteering and raising awareness for various organizations that have responded to the need of refugees for heaters, gas, and money for electricity to heat homes. Although camps like Zaatari weren’t hit with snow like Amman was, a large percentage of refugees are living in host communities throughout Jordan, and they were in the most desperate need of help. One organization that has been helping with emergency relief is the Collateral Repair Project. You can donate if you feel like contributing to their efforts to get heat to the refugees. Two Fulbright friends went along as the organization delivered the little heaters to those who need them, so I’m confident in the organization.

A view taken by a local photographer of the streets in Amman.

Also taken by someone else, this looks like the orange tree outside my window.

And of course…a camel in the snow. Photo credits to Jordan Times.

Another scene in Amman. Photo credit Jordan Times.

The Request

Last week, I helped out with a workshop training series put on for the International Rescue Committee and another local organization AMAN, both public health organizations. Besides this, I’ve only been working on the UNFPA report that is going to prepare the organization for a work plan. The hard part about this is that I’ve been working with three different supervisors on the project. The first told me how she wanted it formatted, and what to include. The second said that I had done was no good and she formatted it herself and sent it back. I have been working on that copy. However, not long ago, the Director of the Institute came by the office, and said to scratch all the previous forms, and told me a different set of information that should be included. At this point I’m frustrated, still don’t know what they want or what I should work on, and have spent over a month on and off working on it. Now with the snow week, I haven’t been into my internship for a week and a half, so really don’t have a clue that is going on.

The other day, a few employees asked me if I would be interested in teaching English to the staff, and said it would be helpful. As much as I want to be helpful, the last thing I want to do is teach more English. I’m in the internship for the specific purpose of building international development skills at an administrative level. So, I’m going to have to break that to them nicely.

Something for everyone. The International Hotel in Amman.

Brainstorming about gender based violence.

The gender based violence workshop done by IFH for other organizations.

In Other News

I’ve applied for another internship with the International Organization for Migration (IOM) because the position was advertised to Fulbrighters specifically, and because they also have an office in Cairo if I decide to transfer there after my Fulbright year. Hopefully I hear back from them soon.

My university has been closed and classes cancelled for the last week and a half because of ice, snow, and no electricity. Because of this,my exam schedule has been pushed back in all classes, and I hope the semester won’t be extended as well. We shall see. I need to come up with a game plan for rescheduling and making sure all students know when the exams will be. Wish me luck.

Hesham’s choir, Dozan w Awtar performing at the Russian Catholic Church in Swefiyah.

Our friend Elena’s birthday party, one of many celebrations and gatherings we have here.

The really awesome chicken soup I made on the coldest snow day.

Snow day brunch with heaterless people.

Take responsibility!

The happenings of this week have reminded me of the importance of taking responsibility for your actions and your words.

I’m teaching two MIS Terminology labs for senior students at PSUT, and recently they each signed up to present for 25% of their grades. When I arrived on Tuesday for the class, neither of the teams that had signed up to present were ready. One had emailed me in the morning saying she couldn’t do it (to which I promptly replied that she must or she would lose points), and the others “didn’t realize they had signed up for a specific date” although their names were written by them on the sign-up sheet that had dates clearly specified.

It’s not like I had expected anything different. It doesn’t matter what side of the world you are on, students “forget” or have grandparents die unexpected when exams or projects are due. I docked both teams 5/25 points which they of course didn’t like, but I told them: “You need to learn to be responsible. You must do the things you say you will do.”

The second lesson in responsibility is with the UNFPA report I’m struggling with. As my supervisor put it, “the ones doing the reporting just don’t take responsibility for reporting accurately and efficiently.” The result of these people not committing to doing a good job on the reporting is that it is nearly impossible, if not impossible, to find the numbers UNFPA wants from us.

So, a lesson for me, and a lesson for you: when you don’t do what you say, or should do, or know you should do, you’re messing up far more than your character.

Taxi Names

So, I’ve been here for almost 4 months, but I only just read the sign that’s on the side of the taxis I take all day, every day. The names, I discovered, are very Jordanian: Green Taxi, and Smooth Taxi.

So, why Jordanian? Well, green is a significant color in Islam, which is why the mosque turrets are often lit up with green florescent lights. Smooth? Well, nothing about Jordan seems very smooth, with the exception of smooth kunafeh, which is my favorite kind. If you’ve never seen kunafeh, here’s a picture, and here’s a link for you to explore the oddness of this dessert-like thing that many of the Fulbrighters are addicted to. A wheat substance that’s fried on the top of mozzarella cheese doused in syrup is how I would describe it.

Here’s a picture of a cab, and one of kunafeh, for your enjoyment.

And then there is the natural gas truck that stops two lanes of traffic to turn around in the middle of the street

Yes, this happened. I was coming home from work, and it was in the middle of rush hour. The truck didn’t want to go down the hill and try to turn around, so he began to nose out into traffic, blocking everyone, until not yielding was futile and everyone realized this aggravating moment would pass more quickly if they just got out of his way. So we waited patiently while he corrected and re-corrected his little truck that has no steering range until he had reversed his direction.

So these gas trucks. They roam the streets at all ungodly hours of the early morning, afternoon nap times, and late at night. They all play the most annoying song you’ve ever heard, especially if you hear it first while sleeping. It’s even worse than the incessant honking that all the cars do here. If you want gas, you have to run out into the street and call him over, then he comes up to your house, takes you empty canister out of your kitchen (which is attached directly to the stove), and brings you up a new one.

For your enjoyment, here’s a video you can watch that you can see the truck and hear the ever-present song.

The gas truck you always wanted for a toy

Other

This week was the last week of Qasid Arabic classes for me. I’m going to be taking 5 hours of tutoring a week now, instead of three, since this is really what’s bringing up my proficiency. I am relieved that I have 6 less commutes per week, and 9 less committed hours I have to be somewhere. Perhaps, somewhere, relief is in sight…

A Stranger at Home

This last week was Thanksgiving, such as it was. On Wednesday, all the Fulbrighters and some other American citizens living in Amman gathered at the Fulbright House for a potluck style Thanksgiving dinner. There was a frenzy at our neighbors’ and our apartments here to cook mashed potatoes, brownies, and broccoli. I made a sweet potato souffle, which happily turned out to be edible (and rather tasty even). We socialized at the dinner and stuffed ourselves with 3 plates of food (making us feel adequately ill to mark Thanksgiving).

The Thanksgiving plate

I have never put much stock into Thanksgiving or Christmas – they were minimally celebrated in my family. However, “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” as they say. Being away from my family (especially while many other Fulbrighters went home for the holiday) was more difficult than I imaged. The first of December marks three and a half months that I’ve been away (about a third of my grant). As I watched the effusive Thanksgiving posts scroll by on Facebook, I realized two things: I really am thankful for my family, for their health, for my relationship with each of them; and it still doesn’t keep you from feeling like crying yourself to sleep on Thanksgiving night while you’re 6,000 miles away from them. Being thankful doesn’t mean you have to be happy about the circumstances. I am disheartened by the distance, but it really helps me realize how much I love the people I am far from and I’m thankful for that.

Ironically, earlier this week I was thinking of how accustomed to being here I have become. For instance, a few of us ran out of internet (3G) on our phones, and whereas previously, when we didn’t know our way around the city, we would have considered this a problem, it didn’t really phase us. I guess you know you’re “home” when you don’t mind disconnecting and fending for yourself.

So, this week has really been mixed for me – I am at home, yet I am not at home. So, I settled on being a stranger at home.

Teaching

Last week, I introduced many of my students to the concept of the essay. Some had already learned how to write essays, but the majority had not. I gave them a template so they could understand the construction, and talked about my expectations for the assignment. While they worked to fill in the template, I helped the students who raised their hands.

Everything was going well until a large number of students began to finish their first two paragraphs. They tried raising their hands, but I wasn’t quick enough for their liking since so many of them wanted help at the same time. It ended up with me in the center of the room with a crowd of around 6-10 students around me demanding that I read their paragraphs to make sure they were good.

On Tuesday, the King of Jordan visited my university to inaugurate the new Engineering school building. All the students were gathered around in the parking lot from 8:00 in the morning until when I arrived at 1:00. Apparently, he had come at 11:00, and a lot of students had acquired white roses from some part of the celebration. One student shyly presented me with one, and now it’s on my desk near my laptop as I work.

Students gathered in the parking lot after the King visited

The rose given by one of my students

Institute for Family Health

I finished up on the early marriage grant proposal to the Swiss Development Cooperative this week. It was much less painful than the EU grant, but I’m still glad the process is over. After finishing on Thursday, I stayed for a training about domestic violence and counseling. Most of the attendees were doctors or nurses who deal directly with survivors of domestic violence and abuse. The presenters spoke in Arabic about the laws and mechanisms in place, how to approach counseling or interview sessions with survivors, and how to discern via body language whether the person is lying while responding to the questions.

One key issue that comes up is that the husband often accompanies the woman and children to the clinic, and he responds on behalf of his wife. This is fairly normal whether or not domestic violence has occurred, but it adds a hefty obstacle to finding out if one of the spouses has been abused.

I asked myself the other day, since this month marks me finishing a third of my grant, whether I will leave here in 6 months with a feeling of fulfillment if I keep doing the things I’m doing. I think I will.

I also met with the UNFPA personnel who are working on oversight for the project I compiled the many reports for. I was given this lovely bracelet since November is the “UNite against gender-based violence” month in the UN.

The bracelet from UNFPA

In Other News…

The olives I’m curing are changing color into a nice purple-ish red. They are less bitter, so I’m hoping they will be edible in another week or so. I diligently change their salt water every few days. They are teaching me patience…sort of. I bought a can of olives I could eat immediately the other day, but I am patiently waiting for these I guess.

And, my schefflera has a new buddy, the jade named “Herbert” which was given to me by Emily when she headed back to the states last week.

Scheffy and Herbert

Finally, I’m always telling my mom about the roads I have to cross on my way home from work. Here’s a picture of one that I sent her the other day.

The duar (circle) I have to cross every day I go to IFH

Iqamas and Blood Tests, Oh My

Over the last few weeks, I went with five other girls to get a blood test done, and to extend our visas while we wait for our residency permit or “Iqama.”  The first day we went at 8:30 to the main office for extending our visas, and loaded 6 people in a car (4 girls in the back) for the ride. A man called Abu Firas took us to the police station because he has connections and he knows the process well, meaning that it is less tedious than it could be.

Our first stop was the station where they take official blood samples in order to test for HIV, Hepatitis C, etc. According to what I’ve heard, if you have a positive result in the test, you are immediately deported and not allowed to return. You can’t get the residency card without having the test done in Jordan (it doesn’t matter if you were previously tested for HIV in the USA). The station we went to had lines of immigrants outside. Abu Firas said that they were all Egyptian. Inside, we walked up a few flights of stairs and entered an office-like room where there was a man on a computer and a second one sitting at a table with a stack of needles. He was taking people’s blood more efficiently than I have seen someone do it before (probably 2 minutes per person). Gone were the reassuring words of a nurse who makes conversation to distract you from the idea of the needle. Simply, you sat down and he took your blood without a word.

There was a bit of concern that the needles weren’t clean, because he would uncover the needle before the one being tested sat down. Abu Firas and everyone else we have asked have assured us that the needles are always clean in Jordan, and there haven’t been issues with it. Having heard horror stories coming out of Saudi Arabia (for instance) about friends’ family members receiving blood transfusions that contained Hepititus C, I admit I was concerned that I didn’t get to see him remove the clean needle.

Then, we went to get our visas extended. When the first station couldn’t get us the stamps we needed, we drove around 30 minutes to the other side of town to another station. By then, it was hot afternoon, and the 4 of us in the back of the car were getting uncomfortable. We ended up getting the stamps we needed, and headed back to the Fulbright house around noon.

When we got back, Abu Firas realized that the stamp had not lengthened my stay, instead it had shortened it by 4 days. I was frustrated that the whole day had been spent for this result. However, he offered to take my passport back without me going in order to extend the visa for a month.

Two days ago, my Iqama was approved, which, “coincidentally, means I don’t have HIV!” (as one friend put it so well). I went to pick it up at the police station with 6 other people and Abu Firas. It was a painless trip this time, and now I have my oh so shiny Jordanian residency card. They did put the wrong date for my birthday on it (January 1) which I think was as result of sheer indifference.

My residency card

Speaking of Police…

There is a strong sense of community here, as I have seen elsewhere in the Middle East. People don’t like to be alone for the most part, and as a result people never leave you by yourself. You rarely see someone walking or eating alone, for instance. Another example is that when I am on my campus, I never see students alone–they are always in groups of around 2-8 standing in the parking lot or by the cafeteria.

I pass the main police academy and parliament every night as I go to the gym by taxi. Both locations are guarded 24/7 by police officers. I always see them walking two by two, talking and laughing together. It makes me smile in the dark as I pass them (no smiling if people can see you, oh no!) Even a dull night outside a government building can be passed easily with company. Adversely, the guards that stand out in front of ACOR, the Fulbright House, embassies, etc. are alone and sit in small, human-sized boxes making sure that the foreigners are safe. I always greet them, and I can’t imagine how isolating and boring that job must be–especially in a culture where being alone is often seen as either a punishment or an adversity.

Learning Silence from Taxis

When I first arrived in Jordan, my Arabic was so horrible that I couldn’t even direct the taxi where I wanted to go. Now, as long as I limit our interactions to just directions, they often mistake me for Jordanian. Wearing sunglasses helps too. This assumption is actually a relief. If they know you are foreign, they talk with you in a way that they wouldn’t with Jordanian girls. Because I have a reprieve from discussion with the drivers for the most part, now I get to enjoy a golden silence on my commutes.

Silence is really great, and we rarely get to have it in the presence of another human being unless we are in quiet communion with a significant other or family member.  I remember having these moments with my mom for instance, while I was studying and she was reading nearby. Taxis have renewed my comfort level with silence in the presence of others, especially strangers. It’s always an interesting battle to overcome the awkwardness of silence, and I’m growing more comfortable with it.

Goals and “Hadifs”

I’m teaching my students a chapter on goals, dreams, and personal strengths. We have been talking a lot about what a person needs to overcome obstacles (new word), pursue their dreams, create clear goals, and also what prevents (new word) them from reaching their goals.

I added a writing assignment to my syllabus (the other section teachers don’t have one), and yesterday I presented the prompt and we did some freewriting about goals. It was halfway through me giving the definitions of thesis, topic sentence, conclusion, illustration, etc. that I realized that they had never heard these terms before (not only in English–also in Arabic). Sigh.

Well, we will be starting from scratch. They told me they have never written an essay in English (at their level, they should have), so I will be working on providing them with guidance, templates, examples, etc. in class. Because I got the feeling that they hadn’t done this AT ALL, I asked our Arabic dialect teacher, Khaled, at Qasid last night about Arabic essay composition. Do they teach it in high school? Is there a set way of doing things? Is it similar to English?

Khaled chuckled, and said that no there wasn’t really a set way–most people don’t learn it in school, in Arabic or English. He said he would provide me with a basic template in Arabic so that I can give it to them to compare to what I’ll be teaching in English. Since homework isn’t a thing here, I’ll be coaching them in writing the essay in class. I foresee struggle.

On a side note, the results of my exam were good. Most students did very well, and the ones who didn’t haven’t been in class. Three students have obviously not been in class for the last 4 weeks, because they never saw the exam announcement I made every class period for the 3 weeks before the exam. They took the other teacher’s exam on Saturday, and didn’t do all that well.

Thanksgiving

Our apartment building had a Thanksgiving party last Friday, hosted by our landlords. It ended up being a rather interesting experience. We had expected all the residents of the building to come, and for it to be a lovely multi-cultural event. However, what really happened is that 6 apartment residents came (4 of them were Christina, Matt, Hesham and I) and the rest were our landlord’s relatives. Christina and I had invited Sarah, our tutor, to come to see an “authentic” Thanksgiving, since that’s what we had expected it to be.

From the beginning of the evening, it became obvious that it was going to be an uncomfortable dynamic. All of our landlord’s relatives are Arab Christians, and Sarah is Muslim. They began their conversation with her by asking her (with the wrong tone of voice) “what house are you from?” This is a question that can be used neutrally, or negatively. Sarah doesn’t cover her head, and her name is religion-neutral, so it is not readily apparent what her religion is. She told them her name, which also identifies her as being from Palestinian descent. Then they proceeded to ask her questions like: what nationality takes the longest to learn Arabic? What kind of teaching qualifications do you have? Mind you, Sarah teaches Arabic to many of the US embassy staff, and is a commendable teacher (who cares about certifications on paper when you have the track record!).

Then, Christina and I were questioned about whether we were Christians, whether we went to church every Sunday, etc. (which we couldn’t do even if we wanted, because we work all day on Sundays). All of this was done in a curt and invasive manner. Finally, Hesham faces a challenge here that we other Arabic learners do not. Because his parents are Egyptian and he is Arab, Jordanians assume he will be fluent in Arabic. So, because is learning like the rest of us Fulbrighters and their expectations are wrong, he faces a lot of discrimination that we don’t. Rather than having a positive reaction to me learning, for instance, because I am American and have no ties to the region and I am still interested to learn the language and culture, they often react negatively to him learning. This involves rolling eyes and unappreciative “hmmphs.”

Needless to say, the evening wasn’t what we expected, or necessarily wanted to experience as a Thanksgiving dinner. However, it does bring to mind the family feuds that always seem to occur at family gatherings, where in-laws or cousins or relatives drive you mad.

Tomorrow, we will be celebrating Thanksgiving with a second dinner (how appropriate that we will be “stuffing” our faces twice) at the Fulbright House. All the grantees will be there, along with others that are involved in the program. This should be quite the party, with 75 RSVPs. I’ll be sure to relate the experience later on…

 

 

 

The Exception to the Rule

It’s difficult to be in a situation where your values are directly challenged by an accepted practice. It is also difficult when it is within your power to make positive changes in the way these values are viewed. My teaching experience so far has been mixed, with many rewards but also challenges.

Student Shenanigans
One of the first hurdles I had to overcome was the fact that the students were not accustomed to having a teacher who only speaks in English in the classroom. The second was that they were used to having a lecture style class, with little interaction between the students and the teacher. And, finally, depending on how I enforce my “house rules” when it comes to class, being late or cheating on exams is considered to be acceptable.

After the “honeymoon stage” of the first two weeks was over, and students began to realize that I would be requiring them to do independent and group work in class, students began to skip class and come as much as 15 minutes late in large groups. Some students began having conversations in regular voices (Arabic) while I was teaching. I realized that they were just testing their boundaries, and that there must not be a fixed expectation about timeliness, attendance or decorum in the university. For this reason, it was up to me as the instructor to set those limitations.

First, I began locking the door from the inside ten minutes after the start of class. The university doesn’t allow a buffer for students to get from one class to another, so instructors are expected to let them out 10-15 minutes early. If they don’t, students come in late, which is more understandable, but more than ten minutes is not. Second, I refuse to speak to any of them in Arabic, which enforces the no Arabic rule. It has been impossible to keep them from using Arabic while doing exercises because they whisper to one-another and I can’t be everywhere at once. I began to call on the students speaking in class, either by name or by pointing at them until everyone’s attention was shifted to their conversation, or stare silently at them until they stopped talking. I take attendance in class, and have arranged for 15% of their grade to be participation, so when they skip they are hurting themselves, not me.

Library at my university

The library in my university has become one of my new favorite places, especially if I’m at the university before I have to teach.
The Exam
I gave my first exam to students last Monday. I made it clear to them what the expectations were for the exam, the time limit, and my policy on cheating. They were told for 3 weeks at the beginning of each class that if I catch them cheating they will receive a zero on their exam. Before the exam, I strategically placed the chairs around the room so that they would have to physically move their bodies in order to see someone else’s paper. In the US, you would consider this way more trouble than necessary, but it is a fairly normal practice to cheat here (for example, buying an essay from someone who knows the topic better than you). I was told when I arrived that it would happen, and it was expected. However, I decided that I would work to change this norm at least in my class.
During the exam, I caught two pairs of students cheating (sitting in the back row) and it was painfully obvious that they were doing so—their bodies leaned back and heads sideways to see their friend’s paper. I moved them both and warned them that this was their one and only chance to stop cheating and in the future they will not be given a second chance. Most of the students were respectful, for which I was thankful.

All of this is to say that some of the hardest challenges are setting new norms and expected behaviors in class. I anticipate my students to be easier to teach over the next two months of the semester because of the work that I’ve done to put clear standards in place.

You never know what you’re stepping into
I’ve begun taking public transportation as much as I can, because I’ve been spending around $60 a week on taxis. Some days, I make 7 separate taxi trips: for example, I go from home to my internship on Tuesday morning, then from internship to teach class at my university, then from university to home, then to my Arabic class and back, and finally to the gym and back.

There is a bus system, and a shared taxi system in which the cars are called “servicas.” I can take a bus down main roads, and the servica from the main road to just below my apartment. Yesterday, I was riding in a servica with 3 men in the back and a driver, and when he driver stopped to let a man out the man began yelling and turning bright red in the face. He was complaining that the driver had not gone the right way, and now he had to walk up a hill which he wasn’t predisposed to do. The men in the car tried to explain to him that it was the same route every day, but he wouldn’t hear it, and finally got out. A bit farther down the road, the driver stopped to pick up another person to take his place, who greeted the post-yelling match tension in our group with a brisk and happy “hello.” Lesson learned: you never, never know what dynamic you’re stepping into in life. There was no way for him to know that the members of the car had just been fighting with a rude man. Furthermore, it’s wise to be prepared for any emotional weather just in case you ARE stepping into a conflict you didn’t know about.

The Report
At the Institute for Family Health (IFH), I’ve been working on compiling a multi-month report for a large UNFPA project. The project addresses gender-based violence and reproductive health, and is reaching thousands of refugees. There are 6 or more locations where IFH is working on the same project, and a different person is responsible for weekly and monthly reporting for each location. I was thrown into this mix to try to identify who had which reports, compile all the locations over 4 months, then combine numbers to demonstrate how each location was doing on a monthly basis to meet target numbers for the project. This seems rather straightforward, but I assure you that with less than ideal communication (no responses to emails, me having no way to contact who I needed to), it was quite the feat. Additionally, each location had a different reporting template, some were in English and others Arabic—and no-one seems to understand what the indicators they are reporting on mean exactly.

It took me over two weeks of following up, tracking down, and nagging each person who had the original reports. Finally, I made a comprehensive file, and I’m keeping all the reports from here on out. The numbers don’t really match up to the target numbers, because of the inconsistency in reporting, but the next challenge is to resolve this by making sure everyone is on the same page and using the same template.

Now that the report is relatively resolved, I’ve turned my attention to writing a grant proposal with regards to early marriage among refugees and Jordanian host communities. I’m learning a lot—first from torture, second from reading between the numbers (so to speak) in the gender-based violence issues, and third from doing research on early marriages, family law, and camp social environments that seem to be lending credibility to early marriage for many. Although I have yet to visit the camps and neighborhoods where the projects I’m supporting are working, I have been invited to. I hope to go when I am of more use to the project teams.

An Update on Olives
If you’ve been reading along, you will know that I am obsessed with olives, and they are rather a mile-marker for me in this particular country. The time for harvesting olives has come and gone, for the most part, over the last two weeks. You could see trucks pulled up along the main roads with people harvesting every tree that bore fruit. Giant bags and boxes of green and black olives are now at the fresh vegetable markets in our neighborhood.

I was really excited to buy and eat some FRESH black olives. Unheard of! So I found some, and hurried home, and took a nice juicy bite, only to find that they are WAY too bitter to eat. Hmm, what a dilemma. Since then, I have read about curing olives, the process by which you get out the bitterness using salt and vinegar. I’ve been curing mine for over two weeks now, and they are still bitter, and I have yet to eat a fresh black olive. Ah, well, live and learn.

The Engagement Party
A few weeks ago, our teacher from CLS last year in Qasid, Arwa, invited Christina and I to go to her engagement party. Because Christina was in Oman, I planned to go alone and asked Sarah for help regarding how to dress, what to take, what to expect, etc.

Sarah invited me to her house to borrow one of her more modest party dresses, because I was going to a conservative party that was segregated based on gender. I tried on a few, and settled on a nice teal green dress. Then Sarah curled my hair for the party. Afterwards, her mother fed me a GIANT meal of Maqluba, or “upside down,” a dish cooked with the meat on the bottom, then flipped over before eating.

That night, I took at taxi by myself to the wedding party, even though it was pouring rain by the time I went. The party was separated by gender, so all the women were dressed up and didn’t have their heads covered. Everyone thought I was a bit strange for coming in without a Hijab, and some thought that I was a relative of the bride. I asked to sit with a woman and her daughter, and practiced my Arabic in some good conversations. Eventually, Arwa came in, beautifully dressed in emerald green. The whole party was filmed from multiple angles and broadcast on a large PowerPoint for us all to watch.

Sarah curled my hair, it turned out great!

One of the bride’s aunts was an energetic, friendly lady, and she dragged me up to wish the bride congratulations and to dance a bit. I ended up meeting two other teachers from last year there as well. It was a fun night, and Arwa looked so happy that I am thrilled for her.

Tutoring

I have been making fine progress with my tutoring with Sarah. She is endlessly patient and kind, and I feel that my conversational dialect is coming along. 1.5 hours felt like a lifetime at the beginning of this adventure, and it was impossible for me to talk for that long. Now, I feel like I could talk for much longer.

Our Qasid Institute Arabic classes are coming to an end as well. We’ve made it through a semester of classes in dialect and in media, and I’ve learned a lot, but not nearly as much as from my tutor. We have had heated discussions about sexual harassment, spying and the NSA, the Arab Spring, child marriage, the secret police, and more. Nothing builds up your desire to speak like talking about controversial topics that everyone has a different stance on.

Alternative transportation

If I don’t get dragged into a conversation with a taxi driver, I can pass for Jordanian.
Speaking of transportation, sometimes you just see an alternate form at the bus stop, such as this donkey…

Parakeets with a whiskey bottle nest

And speaking of cute animals in unlikely places, the snack and drink chop beneath Qasid has these very adorable parakeets that have a whiskey bottle as a nest…

Parrot at the veggie store

Finally, on the topic of birds, there are two parrots that the owner of the fresh vegetable store owns. One is an African Grey, and there’s this cute little guy who was cooing at me while I bought eggplant and ginger…

The Jordanian World Cup…
Last week, Jordan’s soccer team played against Uruguay. There was a huge hype about the game in our classes, in the news, everywhere. This was the first time Jordan has made it this close to being in the World Cup, and even though their chances were slim, the country was excited. The day of the game, I sat in an hour of traffic next to the stadium, seeing painted faces, tons of flags, and cars decorated to the gills with Jordanian paraphernalia. It seemed like all the taxis had flags flying from their cars, and men were selling them in the street if you were missing one. Although I didn’t get a picture of the boys at the stadium, I did snap one of our neighbor’s car. Sadly, Jordan lost the game 5-0 and we had a lot of depressed Jordanians on our hands the next day.

Decorated neighbor’s car

In Other News…
The weather has changed. It’s in the 50s at night and 60s in the day. We have yet to see any leaves change on the trees, but the citrus trees have bright orange and yellow spots where the ripe fruit is forming. I guess seasons look different everywhere. We’ve had some rain storms, mixed with hail and rainbows. There are no drainage systems on the streets here, and there are lots of hills, and plenty of traffic. The roads turn into rivers and ponds, and cars have to find a way around.

A car nearly floating in a puddle at the bottom of a steep hill near our house

Rainbow after a rain/hail storm

Speaking of the weather, the new iPhone weather app sometimes reports weather conditions such as…

“Dust” the weather of the hour

Emma, my British friend, has gotten a job for UNHCR in Geneva, so she moved on. Before she left, we celebrated her birthday in Kepi café in our circle, candles, cake, full sound system happy birthday song and all. We also got to meet her lovely collection of friends she made while she was here. After the dinner and cake, we went to a bar in the Marriot hotel called Trader Vics, where there is salsa dancing every weekend. I danced a bit with Emma, who new far more than me, and we had a great time.

Emma’s birthday dinner

I’ve run out of travel money, so it looks like I’ll be sitting tight for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and through until March. Most Fulbrighters are traveling, so it’s going to be sad to stay, but I’m sure I will be constructive with my time. There is still a travel ban on Egypt, so unless Farid comes here we won’t be seeing any of each other until after Fulbright or the travel ban is lifted.

I’m done with my personal training sessions, and can’t really afford to continue, but I have my ongoing gym membership which I am endlessly happy I invested in. I still go 5 times a week, and now I’ve added a 30 minute weight-lifting session to my 45 minutes of running or biking. I feel healthier now than I have for a long while—stress is manageable, I’m still busy, and taking care of my body as I should. Oh! And I’ve started cooking. Mostly because I am forced too—it’s too expensive to eat out, and there are no gluten free options. So, I’ve been making a lot of vegetable and meat dishes.

Finally, Christina’s parents are coming to visit for Christmas, and mom is sending a care package along with them that includes THESE:

Slippers for cold marble floors!

This Small World

The Grand Thrift

Last weekend, most of the Fulbrighters visited Wadi Rum and Petra. I stayed home, and among other things, visited “Souq AlJumu3ah,” or the Friday Market. The experience was reminiscent of the Saturday Market in Missoula–the flea market is set up once a week (Thursday night and Friday all day), and it fills the Webdeh area with twice as many people as you usually see here. Traffic cops direct traffic taking it into consideration, and people walk or drive from many other parts of Amman to shop there. Among the numerous fresh fruit and vegetable stalls, there is approximately an acre’s worth of used clothes, housewares, bedding…really anything you could possibly consider spending money on. I spent two hours wandering through the labyrinth and found some sweaters, jackets, and sweatpants for the cold weather that has been creeping into Amman.

Cloudy, windy fall weather in Amman

I spent all day Saturday with Emma, a friend we’ve met here who knew my roommate from CLS in Jordan last year. She is working with an NGO, ICMC, in Mafraq, and she and I share many career goals and passions so it was a lively afternoon of conversation.

Montana

Last week I met up with 3 friends from Montana who are living and working in Jordan. It’s a small world, especially when many who are interested in the region are in Jordan as a result of instability elsewhere. Emily, a friend from international development and Arabic classes at UM has been  living in the same building as us–indeed, right below us–unbeknownst to me before a week ago. She and her fiancee have been here for a year, teaching English and learning Arabic. Chase, another friend from Arabic and political science at UM organized a night for all of us to get together. The fourth UM student is in the Arabic program but we haven’t overlapped.

Myself and other University of Montana students in downtown Amman

Camels and Laughter

I’ve been making a point to go to the gym at least 5 times a week. It’s the way I get my head straight, rejuvenate, work out stress and frustration, and (of course) stay healthy. We’ve been working with a personal trainer, Rana, since we arrived, and she has begun to speak in Arabic to us there and we’re learning the words for body parts, and commands for “move”, “get up”, “increase the weight” etc.

One night as we were returning from working out, we were walking down the stairs, and the 7arees (local apartment caretaker) yelled from Hesham and Matt’s house “ah, brother, in here!” before looking out to see who it was. Apparently, his brother was working on the television cables on the top of the house all day, and they were making sure that they were working at the guys’ house and ours. He poked his head out when we didn’t answer, and then the whole room was full of laughter–our 7arees and his wife (Egyptians), our landlord and his wife (Palestinian/Jordanian/American/Canadian), and the Fulbrighters. It took a good 2 minutes for the laughter to stop, and it left us all in better moods. These are the moments that define living abroad, with all the confusion, lack of communication…

The 7arees was speaking to the “brother” (who was on the roof) on a walkie talkie. After changing a few settings, a picture appeared on the TV of camels running and frolicking across the desert, lower lips bouncing (if you’ve never seen this, Google camels running)–it’s hilarious. The whole room erupted in cheers and more laughter, as the 7arees said “we’ve got camels!”.

World Health Organization – Regional Response Plan 6, Health

The Institute for Family Health requested that I attend a Regional Response Plan 6 (RRP6) Health Sector planning session two Sundays ago. It was to be held at the World Health Organization (WHO) office near where I live, so I told them I would meet them there. I left nice and early so as to arrive on time after finding the building, and was at the circle it was supposed to be located at 30 minutes before the session was to start.

I had no idea what to expect, but I presupposed that the building would be marked, and not too hard to find as it is a main development actor. I found it on Google maps, and wandered around the block it was supposed to be on for around 20 minutes before I asked for help. None of the Jordanians on the street knew where it was. Finally, I asked a guard at a local maternity hospital, because really, shouldn’t they know where the World Health Organization headquarters was if it was in the same neighborhood? He didn’t know…but he asked a doctor who was getting out of his car, and he pointed across to the other side of the circle and said “behind THAT building” and I was on my way.

After crossing around 10 lanes of rushing traffic, I got to the other side and headed to where he had pointed. I found the Jordan News Agency (Petra), but no WHO. I wandered in some more circles, now 5 minutes late. Finally, I accosted a reporter coming out of the new agency and asked him if he knew where it was. He pointed to an unmarked building a bit down the road, and I went to find out if it was where I should go. Indeed, it was the WHO. With triple security, no signage, and no help besides guards asking questions. It looked like a bunker. I was honestly taken aback because I had expected an open doors, well-marketed establishment (they’re there to help people after all?).

In any case, I arrived around 15 minutes late, was let in after identifying which organization I was with, and crept into a giant conference room with around 50 other people. There were PowerPoints and microphones, and directors of all the key health organizations in Jordan. I felt significantly out of my depth, especially having very little health background. After an introduction, we were given an icebreaker to get to know one-another where I played the role of an injured, non-registered Syrian refugee man. You could see just from this activity that the bureaucratic nature of relief work was a nightmare for an injured man who has no “papers.” Later, we broke into working groups and discussed gaps in healthcare for refugees, and came up with objectives and indicators for Jordan agencies to report on. It was a good experience – daunting, but helpful for understanding the scope and process of services. There were also projected numbers by the UNHCR for how many refugees will be in Jordan in 2014, which, if accurate would mean that all agencies here have their work cut out for them and more. For me, the experience was a little surreal – I struggled with feelings of being an impostor (even though I was sent there and could contribute) because many of my group members were  the heads of things like the UNHCR program in Zaatari, or the director of the Jordan branch of the WHO. At the end of the day, though, I had made important contacts and even friends. I also have a better idea of what my organization is working towards, and how it fits in this puzzle of services.

WHO working session group, notes, binder

This week, my duties at the Institute for Family Health have been comprised solely of grant-writing. Many of the directors were gone, including a few that were supposed to work on the EU grant application with me. So, I’ve been struggling through the organization’s documentation, reporting, past performance matrices and past grant applications to make sense of what they’ve been up to over the years. It’s been a huge learning curve for me, and I am now much more familiar with their mission, vision, activities, areas of expertise etc. after spending around 30 hours at the Institute and working from home on the grant application. One ongoing project emphasis I’ve seen at the Institute is that of treatment and rehabilitation (mentally, physically, and socially) for survivors of torture and their families. It is sad to read the statistics that an estimated 12% of Syrian refugees in Jordan have experienced torture–including men, women, and children. I am glad to be spending hours advocating for these individuals, but I wish that there wasn’t a need for it.

The University

After a long jaunt of silence, I finally went down to PSUT to find out what was going on with my duties. Until two days ago, by supervisor was still in the USA, and I had been given no contact at the school in his absence. My contract details have been sorted out, so I went down to sign it and while I was on campus, I wandered around feeling like a freshman trying to find the office for this or that. I finally discovered a secretary that could help get me my email, another who set up an appointment with the new Dean of Business, and two female professors who made me feel welcome and as if I was actually a part of the university. The dean is very nice, but he essentially does not oversee my tasks. He “approved” my responsibilities proposal, and then sent me along to a teacher training session where I met Dr. Salime, a Turkish/Jordanian professor who has a wonderful passion for teaching.

I attended the workshop, which was focused entrepreneurship in Amman, presented by Farhan, the Director for the Queen Rania Center for Entrepreneurship (located at PSUT). Afterwards, I ate lunch with Dr. Salime and we talked about my proposal to work with students and get them into experiential learning opportunities. I think she will be my very best asset there. The next day, I attended another teacher training arranged by AMIDEAST that encouraged student-centered teaching techniques. The presenter knew Christina from her position in D.C.

After the AMIDEAST presentation, I went to a working lunch with the president, some of the deans, and the AMIDEAST staff. I met the Dean of Student Affairs, and I will be working with his office to bring CIEE to PSUT next year. Many of my friends have attended CIEE, so I will be drawing on their experience to help Laura, the coordinator for exchange programs at PSUT.

Last week, I received an email from a professor who oversees the English courses. I met with him last Sunday, and he informed me that they would like me to teach 3 English classes (surprise) the week before they begin. I will be teaching two English lab classes that are only 1 hour per week and focus on specialized vocabulary and speaking, and one class of 40 students that is in lecture style. I have yet to see any syllabus for these classes, and I begin teaching on Monday next week. I have the book and chapters that I will need to cover over the semester, but I have to sit down this weekend and do some serious planning so that I can present the students with something helpful. Also, my supervisor has just returned, but he’s swamped with his new duties as Dean of the Business Administration school and not really accessible to me as a resource.

Finally, with regards to PSUT news, I met with the director of the Entrepreneurship Center and Dr. Salime the other afternoon to discuss working with the center to involve students in activities off campus. It was a good meeting, but it was at the end of a very long day and it is becoming harder for me to wrap my head around how these tasks will fit together.

In any case, it looks like I will be spending a few hours at PSUT on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I don’t think I will be getting an office as they originally told me, so I’ll be doing prep from home as far as I know. Getting ready for my classes with only a weekend of notice is going to be a struggle. At least we have Eid AlAdha to look forward to (a week long break Oct. 13-18 for the Islamic holiday/feast).

In other news…

My friend from Griz for UNICEF, Katheryn, wrote an article about the Syrian crisis, and she interviewed me for it. Here’s the link, The War at Home.

And, I got a planner…and was excited…and lost it two days later…and bought another one just like it. My life will be “organized” soon.

Progress

This week has served as a reminder again and again of where I am from, where I am, and where I am going.

Last weekend, Christina, myself, and several other Fulbrighters were invited to a pool party at a friend of one of the other ETAs, Claire. We scrunched into a cab with 6 people (we’re getting quite good at this) and set off for Abdoun, an upscale new neighborhood on the edge of Amman. A lot of wealthy Jordanians as well as expats live in this area, and a lot of the houses (or more accurately, villas) have well-tended gardens and pools in the backyard. When we were getting close to where we were going, Claire called her friend, Amer, for directions. Apparently, one of the local landmarks is the house of Mahmoud Abbas, the Palestinian president. His villa didn’t look any different than the others around it, but we were informed that when he was in Jordan there was a small military encampment around it, along with machine-gun equipped trucks. I guess there’s no subtlety there.

Besides feeling overly pampered the whole afternoon as we lounged around the pool, had backgammon tournaments, and ate too many Bugles, I also managed to not get a horrible sunburn. The pool was too cold, and no-one really swam except we crazy Americans. We had a beautiful view of the city.

Saturday night, we went to see a Lebanese band called Mashrou3 Leila in the Roman theater in downtown Amman. We went with a few Fulbrighters and Christina’s fellow teacher and her sister. The location of the concert was surreal – another contrast of the new with the old. We had front row seats that Christina had reserved for us, but nobody’s view in the whole theater would have been a bad one.

The band was really energetic, and had a hypnotizing style. It reminds me of Radiohead at times. It seemed everyone was at the concert – all the Fulbrighters, other friends of mine, friends of friends that I’ve never met, and most of the affluent youth of Amman.

Work, time, and values

As I’m sure my readers will remember, I’ve been languishing without work to keep me busy. I can assure you, this mentality is directly inherited from my family. Every member of my family has been discontent without something constructive to do at all times. For example, currently my dad and brother are rebuilding an old boat from the 1970s because they love taking on projects and watching their handiwork transform something that was almost junk before into a fine-tuned machine.

Since one of the ways that I pass a lot of my time here is riding in taxis, I get to watch people and observe parts of the city without concentrating on the traffic. I find myself spotting things that I think my family would have done if we lived here – constructing a hand-made fence from the rocks cleared out of the yard, or running beautiful, clean, efficient businesses that I pass along the road. When someone cares about the quality of work they do and they appreciate and cultivate their resources, however small, it is obvious in a world crowded with average standards. I wonder why some people have these work standards and others don’t, but I guess I know the answer well because I, at least partly, have gained this workaholicism and belief in hard work from my family.

I’m learning to be more patient about time, and the art of letting inconsequential things go. I think that this culture retains the ability to be more flexible than we are in the USA. One example of this is road rage. You would think that in a place that has fewer road rules, chaotic traffic, and less enforcement that things would be much more heated. However, in Jordan, even if someone cuts you off and nearly causes a 4-car accident, the normal reaction is to honk, throw your hands up and then shrug it off. In US cities, though, I’ve seen drivers taunt one another for miles, trying to “pay back” what had happened (even accidentally) in traffic. I like this ability to be flexible, although at times it can be frustrating when you have appointments that people are late to, etc.

I’m guilty of being that person in traffic that holds a grudge, and I’m learning new lessons from Jordanians every day.

Perspectives

Driving or walking around after dark here reminds me of Atlanta. The other night I was walking home from Fann w Chai at 11 at night, and the streets were empty and peaceful. I like the feeling of free movement (no traffic) the cool weather (as fall is approaching), and the growing sense of independence that I’ve gained. The city is feeling smaller by the day as I begin to recognize areas by geographic characteristics, and I feel safe moving around alone.

Opportunities

After a three-week search, I have found a wonderful internship at the King Hussein Foundation. The Foundation was founded by the late King Hussein, and is overseen by his fourth wife, Queen Noor. Queen Noor is active around the world working for women’s empowerment, social development, human security and more.

Last Sunday, I met with the Executive Director, Hana, and we talked about my background and the time I was able to offer the organization. The more I spoke with her about my experience and training, the more I realize how well I’ve been prepared during my MPA degree, internships, and group leadership. I was able to offer not only a well-rounded degree, but also experiences in grant-writing, program development, administrative support, and group leadership. I am so grateful to everyone who has helped me pursue these opportunities over the years.

Hana wants me to work directly with her in the foundation administration, which will include assisting in oversight of projects, working on program development and proposals, foundation correspondence with Queen Noor (reporting on progress), and other tasks as they come up. She arranged with me to come in on the following Sunday (day after tomorrow) for my first day.

On Wednesday, Fulbright staff took us to the police station to renew our visas and submit our applications for our “Iqama,” or residency permit. We left the house early after barely sleeping, and got to the police station by around 9:00 A.M. Because we were escorted by someone who has connections and knew the process well, we finished in a half an hour. We got in the car, and I got a call from Hana asking me if I could come in to the foundation to accompany her for an interview with 3 Syrian refugee women who were being considered for a sponsorship to be sent to the annual Trust Women Conference in London in December.

I agreed to come, although I was neither dressed nor prepared for a day at work. We returned to the Fulbright House and I walked to the foundation (ten minutes away walking). Hana had a driver take us across the city to a organization that operates under the foundation, the Institute for Family Health, for the interviews. Over the last ten years, the institute has grown from 12 staff members to 120, and from 10 clients per week to hundreds. They are doing commendable work with underprivileged populations, including Syrian refugees. They have centers for trauma victims, and they are training employees to counsel torture victims – a large issue among Syrian refugee populations.

The testimonies of the three women were both heart-rending and inspiring. All three had come from Syria in 2011 so they have avoided much of what has happened recently in the country. Because they are in a more stable position here in Jordan, they spend most of their time volunteering with fellow refugees –  in the camps and in communities outside the camps. One woman has her psychology degree and she counsels refugees in Amman and Zaatari. I am inspired by their willingness to advocate for others, and their focus on telling their stories and the stories of other refugee women they have met.

After the interview, Hana and I returned to the foundation, and I ended up working there for the rest of the day. The three-story building is buzzing with activity, vision, and passion. I am fortunate and glad to be applying my skills in an organization that is making a big difference in hundreds of lives. I could not be happier.

Yesterday, I went back to the Institute for Family Health and I met with the director, Dr. Manal. She is an amazing, passionate, and driven woman who cares deeply for clients and each member of her staff. I will be helping her with communications and a grant application while her communications director is on maternity leave. I am inspired by Dr. Manal, Hana, and all the others in these organizations, and I am privileged to be invited into such a team. Although I do not feel that I can speak about details within the organizations, I will do my best to update readers about the results or aspirations of this network of individuals and organizations.