I was at the home of Mohammed this weekend (the weekend in the Islamic world is Friday and Saturday because Friday is their day of prayer) where an episode of “Cops” was on. He mentioned that if anyone was planning to go to the United States, their mothers would beg them not to go. Without fail the mother would believe that her son would get shot in the street by an African American.
In Washington DC, before I left, when I first mentioned to the teenagers and African-Americans who regularly hung out on my block that I was going to the Middle East, the first reaction for a few of them was “Shit, you think it’s dangerous in DC, over there everyone’s packing.” They were definitely joking, and another soon spoke up and said he thought I would be fine because as long as a person greets people with respect and interest you make friends easily and are welcomed.
For all the reasons you might imagine, my mom didn’t want me to go to the Middle East. The specters that some Americans (especially worried mothers) might imagine in the US are easily laughed off here. The likelihood that someone would get kidnapped or seriously hurt are extremely slim unless you consciously put yourself into a dangerous situation (by that I mean Gaza or non-Kurdish parts of Iraq. There really isn’t any place in Jordan that I wouldn’t feel safe). I sometimes joke with her that I do whatever I can imagine that would worry her the most.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Saturday, February 2, 2008
My fitful Arabic
I'm only starting to become comfortable enough with Arabic that I'm not intimidated by casual experiences. The process, which has been extremely fun and has made me lots of new friends, has been one of humility and been I think most valuable in understanding how hard it is to learn a language and how hard it is to be an immigrant. A day or two after I arrived, I looked out the window, and my first thought was "Holy shit. What have I gotten myself into?" Progressing fitfully, the last three weeks have also made me eternally grateful for the overwhelming effort that strangers have put into making sure I was comfortable. Everyone immediately tries to speak in whatever English they can manage, wants to relate to me any connection they might have to the US, and wants to be friends.
Yes, of course, there are other, mostly benign, motivations besides a warm hospitality, but for the most part it comes with a pure heart. There is sometimes the unrealistic or subconscious hope that the friendship might somehow help get them a visa to the US. There is the subtle prestige that comes with having a Western friend. There is the rare opportunity to practice English with a native speaker. However, it is very rare that a Jordanian will exploit the relationship for any sort of monetary gain.
More than anything it makes me want to go out of my way to help the innumerable immigrants in the US when I get back. To see American in the idyllic light of opportunity where democracy is real and the only thing holding you back is your will, while only relatively accurate, still makes me want to work harder to help us to live up to that dream for Americans and immigrants. Of course I recognize that it is not to the benefit of the country to open wide the gates of immigration. So, the goal is not only to live up to that dream domestically, btu to support the developing world in meeting this dream themselves.
Yes, of course, there are other, mostly benign, motivations besides a warm hospitality, but for the most part it comes with a pure heart. There is sometimes the unrealistic or subconscious hope that the friendship might somehow help get them a visa to the US. There is the subtle prestige that comes with having a Western friend. There is the rare opportunity to practice English with a native speaker. However, it is very rare that a Jordanian will exploit the relationship for any sort of monetary gain.
More than anything it makes me want to go out of my way to help the innumerable immigrants in the US when I get back. To see American in the idyllic light of opportunity where democracy is real and the only thing holding you back is your will, while only relatively accurate, still makes me want to work harder to help us to live up to that dream for Americans and immigrants. Of course I recognize that it is not to the benefit of the country to open wide the gates of immigration. So, the goal is not only to live up to that dream domestically, btu to support the developing world in meeting this dream themselves.
growing acclimation
I’m sorry I haven’t written more recently. Since I left Amman, I have established a nice existence in Irbid, a sizable town of maybe 800,000 near the Syrian Border. I haven’t written more recently for a few reasons. First and primarily it has been because I’ve felt that I needed to focus on learning Arabic and about the history of the region, which has monopolized my time so far. The second was that after I wrote my last entry, I realized that I wanted to not only be honest, but also try to give as complete and accurate a picture of the culture as I could. Finally, it was because I want this not to be just a chronicle of my series of experiences, but also give some insight into the culture, and I felt that I didn’t have enough experiences to start to extrapolate that insight.
So, I’ll begin very generally before going into specifics.
The first thing you notice is the tremendous generosity and excitement with which Jordanians, Palestinians, and pretty much all of the various immigrant groups greet foreigners. In fact, their generosity is only surpassed by their pride in their generosity. I’ve borne frequent witness to both.
It has been one of my small obstacles to try to go somewhere and learn how to interact with waiters. Either I’m alone and do the best I can or I am with someone and he insists on doing all the talking and paying. I’ve gotten many promises to let me do the talking ‘next time’ but as of yet none of them have been fulfilled. An Muslim friend of mine (originally from England) once relayed to me the almost perpetual fighting within his family anytime they would go out to eat over the right to pick up the check. I can definitely see that happening here. One of the common responses to “Thank you” is “No need for thanks. It’s my duty,” which is the general approach to the situation.
One of my students whom I went to dinner with recently (who of course bought me dinner) said that he was nowhere near as generous a person as he should be if he followed Islam strictly.
I will talk more about Islam later, but I still very much feel that I have only scratched the surface of it and how it affects the values and cultural norms in society. For now, I’ll just say that it is easy to see how the complete immersion in Islam could translate into both a tremendous generosity with concomitant pride.
So, I’ll begin very generally before going into specifics.
The first thing you notice is the tremendous generosity and excitement with which Jordanians, Palestinians, and pretty much all of the various immigrant groups greet foreigners. In fact, their generosity is only surpassed by their pride in their generosity. I’ve borne frequent witness to both.
It has been one of my small obstacles to try to go somewhere and learn how to interact with waiters. Either I’m alone and do the best I can or I am with someone and he insists on doing all the talking and paying. I’ve gotten many promises to let me do the talking ‘next time’ but as of yet none of them have been fulfilled. An Muslim friend of mine (originally from England) once relayed to me the almost perpetual fighting within his family anytime they would go out to eat over the right to pick up the check. I can definitely see that happening here. One of the common responses to “Thank you” is “No need for thanks. It’s my duty,” which is the general approach to the situation.
One of my students whom I went to dinner with recently (who of course bought me dinner) said that he was nowhere near as generous a person as he should be if he followed Islam strictly.
I will talk more about Islam later, but I still very much feel that I have only scratched the surface of it and how it affects the values and cultural norms in society. For now, I’ll just say that it is easy to see how the complete immersion in Islam could translate into both a tremendous generosity with concomitant pride.
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