Didn't take long

I woke up this morning in Marka, Jordan at the house of my friend thinking I might listen to Regina Spektor or something. Marka is somewhere between a suburb and a slum on the outskirts of Amman, a place with ubiquitous 7 to 11 year olds constantly embarking on imaginative adventures. It is definitey not on any tourist map, and has all the charm of cities in the third world where community still plays a greater role than productivity. My host has a small place there, at which he shares with Suleiman and his wife, the friend that I mentioned in my last post.

So, I woke up and went to my bag, and well my ipod's not there. After shuffling around for a minute, I notice that all my books are out of order and one of them actually has a huge tear in the cover.

Flashback to last night. We get home about in the late evening, and there are four guys in the living room hanging out. It doesn't take long for Suleiman (with Raed translating) to ask me again about meditation and Buddhism. It is basically in the form of a challenge. They are questions like "What do you get out of meditation?" "If you found out that your path was wrong, and another was right would you be willing to convert?" And leading questions to suggest that there could not be any other explanation for existence than God as interpreted by the Prophet Muhammad. So, I answer as asked and explain that I have gained a tremendous amount from my path of meditation, and it has lead me to be a stronger, better, more peaceful person. But, I am seeking truth in any form, and I am happy to accept anything that builds on my experience. At this point my part in the discussion was done. For the next 20-30 minutes one of the guests took up the ecumenical argument, while Suleiman took the "one true path" argument. I listened intently trying to pick up any words I knew and absorb as much Arabic as I could.

It eventually ended with the guest saying, calling Suleiman a word that I inquired the meaning of. He said, it means "a person with no sense."

So, eventually everyone went home and we went to sleep.

Back to this morning: Now there is a little part of me that would like to have my ipod back, but anyone that has had anything stolen knows that it is the sense of betrayal that is the much more bothersome. It makes you feel stupid for trusting a person, and besides making you less likely to trust, makes you less likely to care.

Once when I was in Nicaragua speaking to an uncle of mine who was a businessman related what he thoguht was the biggest thing keeping the country from growing. He believed that it was centrally a culture of corruption. From the rich to the poor, if there was an opportunity to steal it is universally taken. From a meal to trinkets to investment. Any effort at social improvement was inevitable undermined by everyone taking a piece.

Depending on the person, I can see how it wouldn't take long before a person integrated this into their worldview, and simply gave up on acting for social betterment.

However, that is the only way we have ever moved forward. Fighting crime, but at the same time fighting the tendency to view society through the lens of our own disappointment. To see the world for its reality and its possibiilty at the same time.

In Jordan

I've been in Jordan for a few days now. The first night I stayed at the hotel of a friend of a friend. It was a nice night. I talked with some french travelers that were on their way to Thailand and Myanmar, and spent a lot of time the next morning trying to communicate with some Arab teenagers that spoke virtually no English (called Ingileeze in Arabic).

The person that I've been staying with since then, Raed, has been awsome in a "The Godfather" like way. He is obviously tremendously well connected, and while is a business man by profession, spends a large part of his daily life getting favors done for people. Got your car repossessed? Have a GPA that is not to your liking? Need a visa? Have awful credit? Trouble with the law? Raed's your man. His English is very good since he lived in Canada for a number of years which is where his brothers live. He is the sort of man that puts a lot of pride and dignity into the way he carries himself. He has been in a suit the entire time we've been here.

He has been tremendous to me. I wish I knew more Arabic so I could beat him to the taxi fare or check once in a while.

We stayed with a friend of his the last couple nights. It wasn't till the next morning that Raed told me that his wife is currently in the hospital after having had a newborn baby. It struck me as especially strange, just because his friend, Suleiman seemed like the consummate bachelor, loud and boisterous, welcoming in an informal and a manner that conveyed a freedom from responsibility.

I have gathered that the distinction between male and female society is a very distinct one.

I'll write more later...
ps the hummus and falafel is very good.