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.