Jen's Blog

The Good

[*]Registration was super-easy. The form asked for my name, local phone number, and why I want to study Arabic. I attached a couple of passport-type photos (worst photos ever) along with a photocopy of my passport and gave it to the Language Center. Then I went to the registration office to hand in my 500JD. Then I opened a Cairo-Amman bank account with $20 (still not sure what that was about). I'm in. This was two days before classes stared.

[*]Jordan University is covered in trees. This is particularly nice 'cause summer in the Middle East is kinda hot. It's not really THAT much worse than, say, Sacramento. The difference is that there is almost no AC anywhere.

[*]The cafeteria: The tables have tablecloths. The food is excellent and very cheap. I can get a half roasted chicken and rice with yogurt and bottled water for 1.20 JD. Students ALL bus their own trays.

[*]Our teachers are EXCELLENT

The Bad

[*]Maybe the first teachers we had weren't so excellent.

[*]My walk to school is 10 minutes along a busy, crazy, noisy, filthy, four (or maybe six - hard to tell) lane road with taxis, service taxis, local busses, and big busses pulling in and out along the whole way. Anyone who knows me knows that I shouldn't be anywhere near three-ton hurling masses of metal within two hours of waking up.
I must note though, that drivers in Jordan are leagues more sane and courteous than, say, Syria. But. DANG.

By the way, the writing on the McDonald's sign says 'Macdownaldz', phonetically speaking:

The Funny

[*]I can find my way to the lanuage program director's office with my eyes closed.

The first teacher we had began class by putting up random words on the board - at least we think they were words as no one had yet covered the arabic alphabet with us. Many of the students were yelling at him to cover the basics - this was moot because he spoke no English. Another guy came in - some administrative dude. He spoke English and, I think to pacify the mob, began teaching the class. The other guy just walked out. It took about five minutes to realize we had just taken a big step down in teaching quality. After class, a delegation went to the director's office to 'give feedback'.

The next day, the first teacher was organized and teaching close to our level. But the second teacher came in and it turned out to be the same overwhelmingly horrible guy that we had the day before.

I was part of the second delegation.

The director agreed to let us keep the first teacher for both classes each day. We were satisfied.

The NEXT day, we indeed had the same decent teacher. But apparently he could only maintain a sense of organization for that one initial class period. Over a period of one week, all the students (exept one) slipped out of his class and into the other Level One class being taught by two women. My defection was rather difficult because he tried to stop me and kept redirecting me back to the his room. Then he stood in the doorway of the other room so I couldn't get in and proceeded to get into a long discussion with the teacher of the other section (who at this point had already started class). I waited outside for my sentence. Eventually, I was allowed to pass into the room.

THEN, the....what is he, exactly....department logistics type guy came in and said we had to go back to the other guy's room; that there were too many people in one class. Many of us spoke up and said that we would get our money back before we'd go back to class with that guy. He said we needed to talk to the director.

Delegation #3. We couldn't get in to his office. We talked between two different go-betweens. Eventually we were sent the message to go to the class we had chosen and they would talk to us later.

Now - We're still in the excellent class. Insha'allah we will stay there.

I am now settled into the student life here in Amman. I have a four hour Arabic lesson each day...really more like 3 hours. But more about that later...it's just funny all on its own.

I have very few new photos to post because Amman isn't beautiful....wait, here's an example:

It kinda reminds me of SF....kinda.

But, I've discovered that there are some great oases (oasises?) around town so I'm hoping to get pictures of them. Also, there's some good peeps I gotta get photos of. Like my roomies...Sophia and Maryum. They are also studying Arabic at the university. Essentially, we bumped into each other while looking for places and decided to get a place together. We have a two bedroom apartment across the street from Uni. We pay 400JD/month, so about 135JD each. For students, we obtained an excellent price (some are paying 400JD for a studio or 300JD for a room with a 9pm curfew)...but the locals laugh at us for getting ripped off. Eh, whatever. It's cheap enough.

We largely owe our success to Haya, a girl from here who is studying German at the language center. I had seen her at the center and she appeared to know her way around so I had asked her if she knew of a place to find 'roommate wanted' postings. By that evening she had invited me to live with her family until I found a place. I went for dinner and met her mom and bro. Her mom launched into an Arabic lesson as soon as I arrived. She was just great. However, I didn't take them up on the offer because, with Haya's help, we found a place the following day.

Getting an apartment in Amman:
It looks like this: Walk up and down the hill across from the university in 100F weather until you see a sign in Arabic with a phone number. If you don't speak Arabic, you call the number in case it's a rental sign. If you speak Arabic, you only call the numbers that are actually rental signs. After you call, you hope the person on the other end speaks English...unless you have Haya with you, and she deals with all this crap for you. Then you go to the place and the person meets with you NOW. And you haggle, if you speak Arabic or have Haya, to make sure that the price is inclusive and there's no extra charges, say, for the super to provide you with groceries (?!). OK, this is done. Now, the beautiful thing: The guy pulls out a sheet of paper with the agreement on it and you put down name, phone number, passport number and hand him 400JD cash. The place is yours and you may now move in.

That's it.

No background check, credit check, employment check, prior residence check, personal references...

Caveat to the cool thing: We are not permitted to have men in the apartment.

Toh!

In case my dad is reading this, it's not that I need to have guys in my room or anything...it's just that I've been on the receiving end of amazing hospitality over here and I'd like to return the favor. We have an insane number of tea glasses in our kitchen taunting us.

The apartment:

I've left the secure insanity of the desert and am presently hiding in a budget hotel in Amman, trying to get used to the din.

I've left people behind who miss me as sorely as I miss them. I have an arabic placement exam at Jordan University on the 17th. If I haven't settled in, I may just go back to Rum and continue to learn Bedouin colloquial arabic at a snail's pace. Ali & Faris did tell me they would teach me five hours a day if I stayed. Ali has picked up English so quickly. We speak all the time now. I had accused him of being a spy because for the first month he didn't speak at all, stating 'no speak English'. It turns out, however, that he's picked it up in the past two months and truely didn't speak it before. Faris has spoken it all along, which one may or may not know depending on whether you are someone he wants to speak to. Everyone back at the camp can now be seen, on their free time, studying the English books.

Hmoud and I communicating

In a way, it's so easy to get in trouble in the desert. But nothing is consequential (as long as one doesn't have brothers who are required to defend the family's honor). I got in an yelling match with the Aqaba bus driver one day and he warmly greeted me at the shop a few days later. If I hadn't argued with him, he may not have remembered me for greeting. No one bothers to filter nor do they bother to hold a grudge.

But it's hard to hang on to anything there, from holding grudges to trying to plan anything for the future. Each of us who volunteered wound up staying long past our intended departure date. Jessie had intended to pass through in three weeks on her way to Egypt. She'd ask if I would go with her when she left and all I could say was 'I don't know, that's, like, two weeks from now'. Then it was one week out and she asked if I would go and it was still impossible for me to project ahead one week. Then she extended her stay. Then again she asked if I would go with her. I asked when she was going. She replied she didn't know.

Jessie

It took a little while for me to realize that seeing consistency as a virtue is ethnocentric. It's confusing to be told one thing one moment and then another two hours later. At first people seemed dishonest. But everything said is true in the moment it's said (unless they're playing with the euro-female population - then it's more about strategy - but endearning nonetheless).

Faris and I in the 'siarra'

This little guy (sitting next to Mehdi) is Athman, the youngest son of Mohammed.

Be afraid.

In an isolated place like Rum Village, one big source of supplies is traveling salesmen. It might be a guy with a duffel bag full of girls clothes or a truck load of kitchen items. Food vendors come by to all the little shops here and consequently the shops all become stocked identically.

Then, a month or so back, a traveling salesman came around with slingshots. Every boy in the village now has one. They like to see if they can get the rocks through the bars on house windows They like to shoot them up in the air and see if they can get the rocks to come straight back down. They like the sound of rocks hitting the corrugated metal roofs. They like to shoot at moving targets like birds flying by. Some also think it's funny to point them at people. Going to the market has become a military exercise. I've almost been hit twice that I'm aware of, both times while inside the hostel room in the village. Activity has tapered off somewhat...didn't want to alarm people while we were in the thick of it, you understand.

I prefer to take my chances with the sand vipers and scorpions out at camp.

Howdy peeps. Taking care of a few items:

Anybody want to take my cat, Chompers (pronounced 'chom - pere') indefinately? He's super sweet and cute. Friendly but not too friendly. He's part Maine Coon, so very tall. No front claws (I didn't do it - he came that way). I'm attempting to extend my trip to study Arabic in Amman and he is my first logistical hurdle. Also, my brother has him at the moment but my niece is very allergic so I'd like to allieve her suffering. He is presently residing in Sonoma County.

Items for clarification:
1. The guys here are NOT gay (not that there's anything wrong with that). Men are just much more affectionate with each other.
2. We are NOT smoking illegal substances. Smoking tobacco through waterpipes is all the rage here. Up at camp we have apple and banana flavored. The apple is 'quais', the banana I haven't tried.

Conclusion; you may show your mother and co-workers the blog if you like.

Our computer at the office is bogged down with viruses at the moment, so I gotta make this brief. Here are some more photos for your viewing pleasure:

Mehdi and Bailey doing 'tourist' photo:

The first thing I see each morning:

This is the camp kitchen - where all the magic happens;

Mmmmmm....