I think today was a good day.
If I haven't mentioned it before (to everyone reading this who isn't on the trip), at Qasid we have language partners after Arabic class, two days a week (Monday and Wednesday) while Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday we have lectures about politics, society, culture, etc. With today's language partner, we talked about culture with food in Jordan.
First we saw a video about mansaf, kind of like a communal dish/style of eating with yogurt, rice, lamb, and other minor ingredients. The video showed mansaf being made.
Jordanian cuisine has a unique kind of yogurt called jameet, which is actually like a hard, crumbly solid. Preparation involved adding liquid to jameet chunks to soften it up for use in the mansaf. I'm just guessing that the hard, solid jameet lasts a long time without refrigeration, useful for bedouin life.
In addition, the head of the lamb is used for the meat, then the skull is actually presented on top of a bed of rice, surrounded by smaller chunks of lamb. It's quite an effect to see the lamb's teeth, eye sockets, etc. right on top of the rice. From what I understood of my language partner's, Wesam's, explanation in Arabic, mansaf with the lamb's head is a way of honoring a guest kind of by going all out and presenting this lamb's head. I mean if I was a guest at a home, and my host went through the trouble of preparing this lamb's head along with all the other lamb meat and food for me, as a guest, that'd be pretty cool. I'd feel honored.
Mansaf is very traditional cuisine in Jordan, and is mainly eaten in homes or in events/large groups. In the video, it showed people eating mansaf with their hands. They would take a handful of rice with dates, almonds, lamb, etc. and eat it that way. However, in restaurants, people typically eat other kinds of dishes with utensils.
In addition, we went to the nearby Mukhtar Mall while discussing Jordanian culture. After spending time in an Arabic-speaking environment, I can definitely notice that my extemporaneous speaking has improved in some areas. There are well-worn topics and ideas that I can navigate with confidence.
Being in this environment, however, also makes me aware about the challenges of comprehending spoken Arabic. I liked our language partner session because it felt more like a conversation, where we talked about food, and I was asking questions, responding to what we were watching, making comments, being more interactive than just question. answer. question. answer. Like most of my Arabic conversations and interactions in the past. There's definitely huge gaps in my understanding when talking with Wesam, but I understand enough to interact.
Only a couple hours later getting into a taxi, aside from directing the taxi driver where I needed to go and paying for the fare, I found understanding him very difficult, even compared to other cab drivers. The way that cab driver spoke, the vocabulary he used, how fast he talked, the hand gestures he makes, the things he talks about, are all different and unfamiliar to me, compared to Wesam or my instructors. I'm convinced that listening comprehension is the hardest part of learning a language, and part of the unique challenge is adjusting to many different speakers with different ways of speaking. Your writing and speaking come from one person, one source, one set of vocabulary, idioms, mannerisms, preferences, style. You know exactly what you want to express. But listening means learning and adjusting to the idiolect, the unique combination of vocabulary, voice, pronunciation, accent, mannerisms, style, that make up the way every person speaks, for everyone you encounter in Arabic. Even reading has a bit more formality and uniformity.
For dinner, I went to a famous shawarma joint near Second Circle. In Amman, there are 8 traffic circles that serve as landmarks for navigation. Any cab driver will know "1st circle" or "Sports City circle". I went to Shawerma Al-Reem, and it is probably the best shawarma I've ever had. Absolutely fantastic.
Monday, May 30, 2016
29 May
Same stuff, different day.
Culture/Languages Notes:
- The Arabic Language can be very flowery with greetings and expressions. For example, saying hello. Most of the time I hear a simple "marHaba", which can be responded with "marHaba", "marHabtein" (literally two "marHaba"), "maraaHib (many "marHaba"), or "ahlein", depending on what kind of person you are. Muslims often greet each other with "As-salaamu 3aleikum" (peace be upon you), which is responded with "wa 3aleikum us-salaam" (and upon you, peace). However you CAN respond "wa 3aleikum us-salaam wa raHmatullahi wa barakaatuh" (and upon you, peace and mercy of God and His blessings) if you're so inclined.
- Another example is saying good morning. The simple and common way is "SabaaH al-xeir" (good morning) which is responded with "SabaaH an-nuur" (bright morning). You could say "SabaaH al-wurd" ([have a] morning of flowers), or perhaps "SabaaH al-xeiraat wal-leiraat" ([have a] morning of goodness and money). If you're particularly religious you can say "SabbaHakum Allah bil-xeir" (God has brightened you with goodness) and respond with "Allah yuSabbiHuka bi-anwar in-nabbi" (God brightens you with the lights of the Prophet).
- Also there's expressions in many different situations. When someone goes to sleep or wakes up there's specific expressions and responses. When people spoke of eating or are eating, or when someone is sick or tired, there's expressions ("you're sick? salaamtak"\"Allah yasalmak"). When entering a home, preparing to leave a home, actually leaving a home, when traveling and returning from travel, when someone just got a haircut or showered, etc.
- Building floors/levels are counted differently here. Here, the floor in which you enter is either the 1st floor or the Ground Floor, and the floor above is either the 2nd floor or the 1st floor.
- Water conservation is an issue when living in Jordan. After all, this country is the 3rd most water scarce in the world, and the refugees haven't exactly helped. As a result, each apartment and building has a water ration allocated each week (although I forgot our ration, we haven't had problems yet). But it means that whenever showering, or washing clothes, or doing dishes, we have to be conscious about how much water we use and for what purposes.
My attempt at making Tabbouleh (without bulghur). I put far too much lemon juice, and that overpowered the taste of literally everything else. Next time: less lemon juice, less parsley, more tomatoes and cucumber.
28 May
Today our group went on an excursion to the Dead Sea and Mount Nebo. We left in the morning at 10:30 to first head to Mount Nebo, which is apparently the spot upon which Moses gazed upon the Promised Land before dying. On the way, we passed through the town of Madaba. Madaba is a center of the Christian community in Jordan. Along with the usual masjids, there were more churches than usual, and the area in general has a lot of churches.
Our bus dropped us off near the top of Mount Nebo, at an incredibly scenic lookout. The area contains religious significance, meriting visits from figures like Pope John Paul II. After all, this region is around the River Jordan of Biblical fame, in which John the Baptist performed his baptisms (If I'm not mistaken), from which the Kingdom of Jordan is named, and which defines the border between the West Bank and Jordan (after all, it used to be called Transjordan, across the River Jordan). From the site, we could see Amman in the distant background towards the northeast, the river valley that's home to much of Jordan's agriculture, Jericho, the Dead Sea, and distant mountains in Israel. Also Jerusalem was only about 45 km away. What a view.
Afterwards, we lunched in a resort next to the Dead Sea. The lunch was a buffet that featured probably the only fish I've seen since arriving in this country. We then went to the beach of the Dead Sea.
It's common knowledge that the Dead Sea is so salty that one can float in it. Some of us thought it'd be a neat gimmick that'd be old in ten minutes. But it's actually a surprisingly weird sensation when you're actually sitting there, floating without any effort. It's difficult to swim because the water will force your legs and arms to rise to the top of the water. Because of all of the salt, the water also burns your eyes and nose if any water gets in them. If any gets in your mouth, it's like dumping a pinch of salt right on your tongue. It's no bueno. The site also had Dead Sea mud for slathering on your body. Why? Who knows. We spent about two hours fascinated by very salty water.
I spoke to our guide about the lives of Christians in Jordan. The Christians and Muslims in Jordan apparently live very harmoniously. Both groups are Arabs, and Jordanian, with a very long shared history as Arabs and as the inhabitants of the area. As our guide explained it, the people in this region were here a very long time. At first they were Jewish. Later, some of them converted to Christianity. Later, some converted to Islam. However, it's still the same people in the same place, who have a sense of belonging to the same community.
He continued to explain that the leadership in local churches receive their authority from the Patriarch in Jerusalem. The government plays no role in the affairs or leadership of churches in Jordan. In masjids, however, imams have to be approved by the Ministry of Islamic Affairs. This is to prevent imams with unsubstantiated or extreme views from negatively influencing other citizens, and to ensure that the imam is qualified to fulfill the role. Although the government and the King supports Islam (the Hashemite dynasty claims to be descended from the Prophet Muhammad), only inheritance law and another type of law (I forgot) are based on the Qur'an. The rest of the laws are from non-religious sources.
The Ministry also determines the religious curriculum for Jordanian students, who learn about Judaism, Christianity, and Islam in school. This is done, as it was explained to me, in a manner to foster understanding across faiths, and is one of the reasons why Jordan is relatively free of extremist and fundamentalist thought compared to many of its neighbors. The country produces very few fighters for ISIS, for example. And while nearby Syria, Lebanon, and Iraq have succumbed to sectarian violence, now or in the past, Jordan has been free of such incidents. So while Jordan is not a secular country, it seems to promote a moderated outlook on religion.
Culture/Language notes:
Our bus dropped us off near the top of Mount Nebo, at an incredibly scenic lookout. The area contains religious significance, meriting visits from figures like Pope John Paul II. After all, this region is around the River Jordan of Biblical fame, in which John the Baptist performed his baptisms (If I'm not mistaken), from which the Kingdom of Jordan is named, and which defines the border between the West Bank and Jordan (after all, it used to be called Transjordan, across the River Jordan). From the site, we could see Amman in the distant background towards the northeast, the river valley that's home to much of Jordan's agriculture, Jericho, the Dead Sea, and distant mountains in Israel. Also Jerusalem was only about 45 km away. What a view.
Afterwards, we lunched in a resort next to the Dead Sea. The lunch was a buffet that featured probably the only fish I've seen since arriving in this country. We then went to the beach of the Dead Sea.
It's common knowledge that the Dead Sea is so salty that one can float in it. Some of us thought it'd be a neat gimmick that'd be old in ten minutes. But it's actually a surprisingly weird sensation when you're actually sitting there, floating without any effort. It's difficult to swim because the water will force your legs and arms to rise to the top of the water. Because of all of the salt, the water also burns your eyes and nose if any water gets in them. If any gets in your mouth, it's like dumping a pinch of salt right on your tongue. It's no bueno. The site also had Dead Sea mud for slathering on your body. Why? Who knows. We spent about two hours fascinated by very salty water.
I spoke to our guide about the lives of Christians in Jordan. The Christians and Muslims in Jordan apparently live very harmoniously. Both groups are Arabs, and Jordanian, with a very long shared history as Arabs and as the inhabitants of the area. As our guide explained it, the people in this region were here a very long time. At first they were Jewish. Later, some of them converted to Christianity. Later, some converted to Islam. However, it's still the same people in the same place, who have a sense of belonging to the same community.
He continued to explain that the leadership in local churches receive their authority from the Patriarch in Jerusalem. The government plays no role in the affairs or leadership of churches in Jordan. In masjids, however, imams have to be approved by the Ministry of Islamic Affairs. This is to prevent imams with unsubstantiated or extreme views from negatively influencing other citizens, and to ensure that the imam is qualified to fulfill the role. Although the government and the King supports Islam (the Hashemite dynasty claims to be descended from the Prophet Muhammad), only inheritance law and another type of law (I forgot) are based on the Qur'an. The rest of the laws are from non-religious sources.
The Ministry also determines the religious curriculum for Jordanian students, who learn about Judaism, Christianity, and Islam in school. This is done, as it was explained to me, in a manner to foster understanding across faiths, and is one of the reasons why Jordan is relatively free of extremist and fundamentalist thought compared to many of its neighbors. The country produces very few fighters for ISIS, for example. And while nearby Syria, Lebanon, and Iraq have succumbed to sectarian violence, now or in the past, Jordan has been free of such incidents. So while Jordan is not a secular country, it seems to promote a moderated outlook on religion.
Culture/Language notes:
- The further we get from Amman, the less English there is on signs and streets. And that's simply to be expected, most of the target audience for English signs and advertising is in Amman, where literally half the country and probably almost all of it's foreign nationals live.
- Although the modern state Jordan is a very new one, the name "Jordan" has connotations and history that stretch back to Old Testament times. When speaking historically, usually Jordan refers to the Biblical River Jordan and the surrounding area in modern day Israel and Jordan.
A mural in Madaba
More murals in Madaba
A plaque that commemorates the visit of Pope John Paul II
One view from Mt. Nebo
A panoramic view. Amman can barely be seen in the distance
Not really sure how this picture happened
It's hard to read, but this map from the museum puts the region in context. Mount Nebo is to the center-right. Madaba can be seen to the East, Amman to the North, and Jericho to the West. The river is the River Jordan that feeds into the Dead Sea. Further West of Jericho is Jerusalem. And Mount Nebo overlooks all of it.
More maps and context
Another panorama from a different view, although this one has a little too much sand brick and not enough Jordan river valley. The turquoise sliver on the far left is the Dead Sea. The green is around the city of Jericho and the River Jordan. The mountains that are the backdrop to the whole scene are in the West Bank.
Less pano but more valley
27 May
Today was another free Friday. So basically a day to catch up on work that I didn't get to during the week. Tomorrow our group goes to the Dead Sea.
Friday, May 27, 2016
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
24 May
Today it rained! And by rain, I mean a light drizzle that barely counts as rain. According to taxi drivers and Ammanis, this is the first time in the history of Jordan that it's ever rained in May in Amman. Typically there's about a week per year in December where it rains, and the rest of the year is utterly dry. I've witnessed history. Sort of.
25 May
Happy Independence Day! It is currently almost midnight and our group got back from an excursion to the Baadia. This page is a placeholder until I get to updating it, as I am exhausted.
Okay here's the actual update. Our group left Amman around 2PM and drove to the city of Mafraq, north of Amman and only about 15-20km from the Syrian border, along a highway to Dara'a, Syria. Driving through the city of Mafraq, it's notably a much smaller city than Amman, with about 60,000 inhabitants. Outside the vast, sprawling city of Amman, the remaining half of Jordan's population is spread out in many small cities, villages, and tribes. Around Mafraq, you could see the military present, with offices, signs, even tanks and planes in roundabouts.
After Mafraq, we headed east. Along the road, we passed the Zaatari refugee camp, a refugee camp for the hundreds of thousands of Syrian refugees crossing the border into Jordan. Zaatari has a population of around 80,000, making it one of the largest cities in Jordan. The camp is overcrowded and has subpar conditions inside. In recent years, informal leadership and organization have arose out of the chaos of the camp, but issues like water, sanitation, and security still plague the camp. As a response to the conditions and overcrowding in Zaatari, the Jordanian government created a new camp further in the interior of the country, the Azraq refugee camp. It gained a bit of publicity when John Green, of the Youtube channel vlogbrothers, visited Azraq and made videos about the refugees there. Our group didn't actually enter inside the camp, just pass by the gate. But we did have a lecture about the Zaatari camp beforehand.
Our first destination was the archaeological town of Umm Al-Jimaal. The name means "Mother of Camels" in Arabic. However, in Arabic, only the consonants are written, so Jimaal, written like "jmal", could, and apparently once was, known as Umm Al-Jamaal, "Mother of Beauty", showing the importance and admiration the Arabs have for camels. Our guide told us that camels could survive a week crossing the desert without food or water. It's no wonder the ancient bedouins would value camels so highly.
The ruins itself were from every period in Jordanian history, from the Nabataeans to the Umayyads. It truly felt like an ancient city. The ruins were filled with the remains of buildings, community centers, water infrastructure, temples, homes, etc. The site was so extensive you could get lost in all the remains. Interestingly, our guide explained that the volcanic rocks that made up the ruins were locally sourced.
Our guide told us a little history about the region. The entire western part of Jordan used to be renown for being heavily forested, a far cry from the desert we now live in. A traveler in the time of the Caliphates wrote that a naked man could travel from modern-day Aqaba (along the Red Sea) to Damascus, and no one would see him due to all the trees. Even in the late 19th Century, the Ottomans decided to build a railroad from Damascus that crossed through modern-day Jordan to Mecca, and they had to cut down millions of trees in the process. However, western Jordan is just barely on the edge of the more lush environment along the Eastern Mediterranean Coast, and the interior desert. Although people farm the region extensively, and hardy plants and shrubs can be found everywhere, there's very little that could be considered a thick forest, not to mention the millions of trees that used to dominate. So what happened in just a century?
After Umm Al-Jimaal, we traveled into the desert to visit a Bedouin Sheikh, Sheikh Khaled. One thing to note is that, in Arabic, there's a distinction made between two different kinds of deserts, the Sahraa' (صحراء), and the Baadia (بادية). The desert that we imagine as the the lifeless, sandy, hot desert, the classic "desert", mostly exists in places like Morocco and the Arabian Peninsula. The plural of Sahraa', Sahaara (صحارى), is where the name Sahara Desert comes from. The Baadia is what exists in Jordan. It's more of a semi-desert. It's inhabited by nomadic bedouins, features some level of agriculture, and shrubbery and grasslands. The conditions are still extreme, being very hot during the day and very cold at night. Water is still scarce.
Our second destination was an apricot farm in Shiekh Khaled's tribe, owned by a friend of his. Our guide explained that there's an Islamic norm that when a traveler visits a Muslim's farm, the traveler is permitted to eat from the farm to his content, but he should not take any food with him. In the same spirit, the farm owner allowed us to eat apricots from his farm. They were delicious.
The farm was actually just around a mile away from the Syrian border. Many in the group took selfies with Syria. We could actually see white trucks that apparently were from the Syrian Army. The experience actually demonstrated how strange the concepts of national borders are. National borders seem intuitive when viewed on a map, and they do serve important purposes. However, they seemed strange and far away when actually standing next to the Jordanian-Syrian border. After all, there's nothing you could see that made Jordan look any different from Syria. People in Jordan conduct their lives, like growing apricots, barely a mile away from the border. The government here is one of the biggest military allies of the my home government. Yet, if I happened to cross the invisible line, I suddenly am in a country ravaged by civil war. My home government is actively supporting rebellion against the government. I'm considered to be in danger just by being an American in Syria. As someone else in our group put it, "this is the closest I've been to an enemy of the US".
Our third and final destination was the home of Sheikh Khaled. We washed and entered a small structure, where we listened to the Sheikh as he told us a bit about life in the Baadia.
In Jordan, the word "Bedouin" is an adjective describing a way of life. To be a Bedouin, one must live nomadically in the Baadia, searching for food and water. If a member of a Bedouin tribe moves to a city and lives a settled life, his descendants are no longer considered Bedouins. Our guide told us that he is not a Bedouin, but is very proud of his Bedouin heritage. And many Jordanians who originated in Jordan are similar, being not Bedouin, but proud of their Bedouin heritage.
In Jordan, a sheikh can an Islamic scholar. But in the context of Bedouins, the sheikh is the leader of the tribe. He's the authority and arbiter. Whenever there's a conflict or argument, the sheikh is brought in to resolve the dispute. This can be small disputes about property or personal relationships. Or it could be crimes like unintentional murder. If a man disputes the judgment of the sheikh, he's basically dead to the tribe. He's no longer considered a member and will be ignored by the tribe. However, if the sheikh loses the approval of the tribe, he can be replaced. Some sheikhs have one hell of a job managing and arbitrating for large tribes up to 12,000 people. But they do play a very important role in Jordan.
They're also the representatives of their tribes in Jordanian government. They present the concerns of the tribe and protect their interests to the king. The duty of the Jordanian king is to develop and maintain relationships with the sheikhs in Jordan, and meet their needs. In turn, the sheikhs support the sovereignty of the king, and the stability of the Jordanian kingdom. The tribe's choice for sheikh is then presented to the king, who in turn appoints the sheikh of the tribe. It's both a bottom-up and top-down approval. Nowadays, many living in Jordan come from outside the tribal system, especially refugees who come from urbanized and settled places in Palestine, Lebanon, Iraq and Syria. But the members of the Bedouin tribes still make up much of the population, and their satisfaction is key to the survival of Jordan.
In Arab culture, hospitality is very highly valued. When an ISIS fighter was poisoned in the house of an Arab, it made big news because it broke deeply held norms in the culture. However, this importance on hospitality is dialed up to 11 in Bedouin culture. When a traveler arrives at a Bedouin home, he is entitled to eat, drink, and stay for three days. In that time, the host is not allowed to ask who he is, where he is from, or why he's here. Professor Sullivan shared a story where a student on a study abroad program was assigned to a Bedouin host family. Armed with only an address, he arrived to his hosts, where he was fed and housed for three days. After that time passed, the student realized that the family had no idea why he was here, and never heard of a being a "host family" for a foreign student. Turns out he went to the wrong place.
Afterwards, we had dinner in Sheikh Khaled's home, bread and various dips and dishes. Very delicious. We also were served tea around a fire. Afterwards, we loaded into the bus and headed home, where a pile of Arabic homework greeted us.
Okay here's the actual update. Our group left Amman around 2PM and drove to the city of Mafraq, north of Amman and only about 15-20km from the Syrian border, along a highway to Dara'a, Syria. Driving through the city of Mafraq, it's notably a much smaller city than Amman, with about 60,000 inhabitants. Outside the vast, sprawling city of Amman, the remaining half of Jordan's population is spread out in many small cities, villages, and tribes. Around Mafraq, you could see the military present, with offices, signs, even tanks and planes in roundabouts.
After Mafraq, we headed east. Along the road, we passed the Zaatari refugee camp, a refugee camp for the hundreds of thousands of Syrian refugees crossing the border into Jordan. Zaatari has a population of around 80,000, making it one of the largest cities in Jordan. The camp is overcrowded and has subpar conditions inside. In recent years, informal leadership and organization have arose out of the chaos of the camp, but issues like water, sanitation, and security still plague the camp. As a response to the conditions and overcrowding in Zaatari, the Jordanian government created a new camp further in the interior of the country, the Azraq refugee camp. It gained a bit of publicity when John Green, of the Youtube channel vlogbrothers, visited Azraq and made videos about the refugees there. Our group didn't actually enter inside the camp, just pass by the gate. But we did have a lecture about the Zaatari camp beforehand.
A screenshot from Google Maps, with annotations, to put it in perspective. The refugee camp is about 10 km from the city.
Our first destination was the archaeological town of Umm Al-Jimaal. The name means "Mother of Camels" in Arabic. However, in Arabic, only the consonants are written, so Jimaal, written like "jmal", could, and apparently once was, known as Umm Al-Jamaal, "Mother of Beauty", showing the importance and admiration the Arabs have for camels. Our guide told us that camels could survive a week crossing the desert without food or water. It's no wonder the ancient bedouins would value camels so highly.
The ruins itself were from every period in Jordanian history, from the Nabataeans to the Umayyads. It truly felt like an ancient city. The ruins were filled with the remains of buildings, community centers, water infrastructure, temples, homes, etc. The site was so extensive you could get lost in all the remains. Interestingly, our guide explained that the volcanic rocks that made up the ruins were locally sourced.
Our guide told us a little history about the region. The entire western part of Jordan used to be renown for being heavily forested, a far cry from the desert we now live in. A traveler in the time of the Caliphates wrote that a naked man could travel from modern-day Aqaba (along the Red Sea) to Damascus, and no one would see him due to all the trees. Even in the late 19th Century, the Ottomans decided to build a railroad from Damascus that crossed through modern-day Jordan to Mecca, and they had to cut down millions of trees in the process. However, western Jordan is just barely on the edge of the more lush environment along the Eastern Mediterranean Coast, and the interior desert. Although people farm the region extensively, and hardy plants and shrubs can be found everywhere, there's very little that could be considered a thick forest, not to mention the millions of trees that used to dominate. So what happened in just a century?
After Umm Al-Jimaal, we traveled into the desert to visit a Bedouin Sheikh, Sheikh Khaled. One thing to note is that, in Arabic, there's a distinction made between two different kinds of deserts, the Sahraa' (صحراء), and the Baadia (بادية). The desert that we imagine as the the lifeless, sandy, hot desert, the classic "desert", mostly exists in places like Morocco and the Arabian Peninsula. The plural of Sahraa', Sahaara (صحارى), is where the name Sahara Desert comes from. The Baadia is what exists in Jordan. It's more of a semi-desert. It's inhabited by nomadic bedouins, features some level of agriculture, and shrubbery and grasslands. The conditions are still extreme, being very hot during the day and very cold at night. Water is still scarce.
Our second destination was an apricot farm in Shiekh Khaled's tribe, owned by a friend of his. Our guide explained that there's an Islamic norm that when a traveler visits a Muslim's farm, the traveler is permitted to eat from the farm to his content, but he should not take any food with him. In the same spirit, the farm owner allowed us to eat apricots from his farm. They were delicious.
The farm was actually just around a mile away from the Syrian border. Many in the group took selfies with Syria. We could actually see white trucks that apparently were from the Syrian Army. The experience actually demonstrated how strange the concepts of national borders are. National borders seem intuitive when viewed on a map, and they do serve important purposes. However, they seemed strange and far away when actually standing next to the Jordanian-Syrian border. After all, there's nothing you could see that made Jordan look any different from Syria. People in Jordan conduct their lives, like growing apricots, barely a mile away from the border. The government here is one of the biggest military allies of the my home government. Yet, if I happened to cross the invisible line, I suddenly am in a country ravaged by civil war. My home government is actively supporting rebellion against the government. I'm considered to be in danger just by being an American in Syria. As someone else in our group put it, "this is the closest I've been to an enemy of the US".
Our third and final destination was the home of Sheikh Khaled. We washed and entered a small structure, where we listened to the Sheikh as he told us a bit about life in the Baadia.
In Jordan, the word "Bedouin" is an adjective describing a way of life. To be a Bedouin, one must live nomadically in the Baadia, searching for food and water. If a member of a Bedouin tribe moves to a city and lives a settled life, his descendants are no longer considered Bedouins. Our guide told us that he is not a Bedouin, but is very proud of his Bedouin heritage. And many Jordanians who originated in Jordan are similar, being not Bedouin, but proud of their Bedouin heritage.
In Jordan, a sheikh can an Islamic scholar. But in the context of Bedouins, the sheikh is the leader of the tribe. He's the authority and arbiter. Whenever there's a conflict or argument, the sheikh is brought in to resolve the dispute. This can be small disputes about property or personal relationships. Or it could be crimes like unintentional murder. If a man disputes the judgment of the sheikh, he's basically dead to the tribe. He's no longer considered a member and will be ignored by the tribe. However, if the sheikh loses the approval of the tribe, he can be replaced. Some sheikhs have one hell of a job managing and arbitrating for large tribes up to 12,000 people. But they do play a very important role in Jordan.
They're also the representatives of their tribes in Jordanian government. They present the concerns of the tribe and protect their interests to the king. The duty of the Jordanian king is to develop and maintain relationships with the sheikhs in Jordan, and meet their needs. In turn, the sheikhs support the sovereignty of the king, and the stability of the Jordanian kingdom. The tribe's choice for sheikh is then presented to the king, who in turn appoints the sheikh of the tribe. It's both a bottom-up and top-down approval. Nowadays, many living in Jordan come from outside the tribal system, especially refugees who come from urbanized and settled places in Palestine, Lebanon, Iraq and Syria. But the members of the Bedouin tribes still make up much of the population, and their satisfaction is key to the survival of Jordan.
In Arab culture, hospitality is very highly valued. When an ISIS fighter was poisoned in the house of an Arab, it made big news because it broke deeply held norms in the culture. However, this importance on hospitality is dialed up to 11 in Bedouin culture. When a traveler arrives at a Bedouin home, he is entitled to eat, drink, and stay for three days. In that time, the host is not allowed to ask who he is, where he is from, or why he's here. Professor Sullivan shared a story where a student on a study abroad program was assigned to a Bedouin host family. Armed with only an address, he arrived to his hosts, where he was fed and housed for three days. After that time passed, the student realized that the family had no idea why he was here, and never heard of a being a "host family" for a foreign student. Turns out he went to the wrong place.
Afterwards, we had dinner in Sheikh Khaled's home, bread and various dips and dishes. Very delicious. We also were served tea around a fire. Afterwards, we loaded into the bus and headed home, where a pile of Arabic homework greeted us.
A government building (if I remember correctly) in Mafraq
A group of Syrian refugees being handed blankets and other supplies in Mafraq
A mall in Mafraq
A tank sitting in the middle of a roundabout
Side view of the tank
View of the Baadia outside Mafraq
Another view
Our first view of Umm Al-Jimaal
Taken from Umm Al-Jimaal
Umm Al-Jimaal
What's left of a reservoir
Connected to a larger reservoir, probably something with water control
Greenhouses along a highway
This was in another roundabout near Mafraq
The apricot trees. My shadow's probably second from the left. Not really sure.
The watchtower in the distance is on the Syrian border
You can see Syrian villages in the distance
William went full Bedouin
Our meal at Sheikh Khaled's home
Monday, May 23, 2016
23 May
Same schedule - Qasid, lecture on refugees in Jordan.
I tried making hummus today. I used a simple recipe I found online using chickpeas, tahini, garlic, and lemon juice. Most online recipes call for a food processor, but we unfortunately don't have one in our apartment, and I can't justify buying one for two months. So, I made do with mashing chickpeas with a fork and hand-chopping garlic. The end result had a texture that was nothing like the creamy smooth beauty in Jordanian restaurants. Instead, it more resembled partially kneaded dough that wasn't watered enough, or maybe the "cheese" in MREs, and had chunks of chickpea and garlic. Surprisingly, it did manage to taste like hummus.
Next time I'll try using more liquid, in the form of lemon/lime juice (limes are much cheaper here compared to imported lemons) and olive oil. Maybe I should invest in a mortar and pestle for smoother hummus.
I tried making hummus today. I used a simple recipe I found online using chickpeas, tahini, garlic, and lemon juice. Most online recipes call for a food processor, but we unfortunately don't have one in our apartment, and I can't justify buying one for two months. So, I made do with mashing chickpeas with a fork and hand-chopping garlic. The end result had a texture that was nothing like the creamy smooth beauty in Jordanian restaurants. Instead, it more resembled partially kneaded dough that wasn't watered enough, or maybe the "cheese" in MREs, and had chunks of chickpea and garlic. Surprisingly, it did manage to taste like hummus.
Next time I'll try using more liquid, in the form of lemon/lime juice (limes are much cheaper here compared to imported lemons) and olive oil. Maybe I should invest in a mortar and pestle for smoother hummus.
The hummus in question. As you can see, the texture isn't quite there.
Sunday, May 22, 2016
22 May
Second day of classes today. Some people moved up from our class, and some people moved down into ours. For some reason everyone seemed exhausted in our class compared to the first class last Thursday, including me. The four straight hours of Arabic is definitely going to be a challenge once we go into the details on grammar and whatnot. The instructors here definitely use a lot of exercises in class. For example, one exercise was to take a list of words and create a paragraph about them. Another was to describe pictures on a projector using new words in 3ammiyyah. Another was to charades/describe (in Arabic) a word to someone who has to guess it. Stuff like that.
I'd love to make some hummus here in our apartment. Unfortunately it doesn't look like we have access to a food processor. Maybe if it's cheap enough, we might consider buying one for this trip. But probably not. How cheap could a food processor get?
Culture/Language notes:
I'd love to make some hummus here in our apartment. Unfortunately it doesn't look like we have access to a food processor. Maybe if it's cheap enough, we might consider buying one for this trip. But probably not. How cheap could a food processor get?
Culture/Language notes:
- A truck was driving by in our residential area today. There was speakers shouting some words that sounded like slogans. It sounded vaguely angry or demanding, like a political protestor. I can't tell, I couldn't understand the broadcast. But it looks like trucks circulating around neighborhoods is a common way to get stuff across.
- Fascinating lecture today by Dr. Bader al-Madi, a Jordanian political scientist. I made notes, but I don't really want to rehash it into this blog post.
- Many things that would be refrigerated constantly in America aren't so much here. Some eggs aren't refrigerated. A lot of boxed juice isn't refrigerated. Milk isn't refrigerated until opened. It makes me wonder what's different. Is it a difference in quality, in the eggs/milk produced here from different chickens/cows, in the packaging, or is it really just a cultural norm in America to refrigerate all dairy all the time?
No pictures today.
Saturday, May 21, 2016
21 May
The whole group took a day trip to the nearby city of Jerash, which is about an hour north of Amman and near both the Palestinian and Syrian borders. In Jerash we saw the ruins of the ancient city of Jerash in Greco-Roman times, as well as the 'Ajloun Castle.
Culture/Language notes:
- The Jordanian and Palestinian flags are very similar. The only difference is a star on the red chevron on the Jordanian flag. There's a lot of Palestinian flags flown here, sometimes with the Jordanian one and sometimes without.
- I bought a kuffiyeh today. It's actually quite nice to wear in the hot desert sun, as it keeps your head cool out of the sun. It takes a bit of know-how to wrap it around your head, and unfortunately I look like a complete foreigner in it.
The gate to the ruins of Jerash
The Oval Forum
The marketplace
A view of the ruins with the modern city of Jerash in the background
I don't actually remember what this was part of
Two members of our excursion singing in a Roman amphitheater. It doesn't show in this video but the acoustics are incredible in them
The Temple of Artemis
Apparently the kind of plant that lives in this desert ruins
A mosaic that was the floor of a Byzantine Church
A look around the Mediterranean landscape
There's more pictures, but I'm exhausted. I'll post them tomorrow or something.
Friday, May 20, 2016
20 May
On Fridays, Qasid doesn't have classes, so today was a free day. I decided to look around the city some more, including the University of Jordan. I also took my first taxi ride in Jordan today.
Culture/Language notes:
Culture/Language notes:
- Religious phrases are everywhere on buildings, storefronts, pieces of paper stuck to posts, and even graffiti. Many homes and businesses feature the inscription باسم الله الرحمن الرحيم ما شاء الله (In the name of God, the most gracious, the most merciful, God has willed it). I've seen سبحان الله (Glory of God) and الله اكبر (God is greater) on pieces of paper in the street, and محمد رسول الله (Muhammad is the prophet of God) sprayed onto a pedestrian bridge. One person said it was like how people in America have signs in their home saying things like "bless this house" or "Jesus loves my car" or "hallelujah".
- The sound of the muezzin (people publicly reciting the call to prayer) carry everywhere in the city. There's a masjid not too far from here, and I can very clearly hear it at every prayer cycle. It's beautiful, cuts through the sound of the city, and seems to soar over the traffic and hubbub of Amman. Interestingly, one of the few places in America to have muezzin is Hamtramck, a small city surrounded by Detroit, and only about 45 minutes from my home.
- Life in Amman is, for a lack of a better word, imprecise in some ways. The cost of items sometimes fluctuates and for an item that's, say, 1.68 JD you might be charged 1.6 JD or 1.5 JD or 1.75 JD. Also bargaining is expected in places like bazaars, where listed prices are often 1.5 to 2 times the actual value. Some cafes won't have a menu, but will expect that people will know what kind of fare they have. Streets have few street signs, and lane dividers are ignored. Parking is oftentimes fast and loose, as well as changing lanes. Street addresses are never used. Navigation is done based on landmarks and relative directions, and large streets have completely different colloquial names (ex. Queen Rania al-Abdullah Street is known as University Street). If you say something like "59394 Queen Rania al-Abdullah Street" he'll just give you a weird look. Instead, you have to say a landmark like Mukhtar Mall or Diwaar al-Medineh and direct them from there. Point is, things are often done in a way that's less exact and more relative than in America. It takes a bit more people savviness, I suppose, to live here, but also means that people seem to interact more with each other.
- Being in Amman makes me appreciate culture difference much more than before. Going to Korea doesn't feel very foreign, growing up in a Korean-American community and because of the heavy American influence there. I've visited Italy as a tourist, in areas for tourists, but that area in Western Europe definitely feels somewhat familiar. Being in Amman, which is different than any culture I've been in, makes me aware of small cultural norms. Because of that, and my incompetence in Arabic, getting around definitely is uncomfortable and awkward. But it's also a great learning experience and hopefully my Arabic will improve after lots of awkward interactions.
A view of the Islamic Cultural Center and Masjid on the University of Jordan campus
A Little Caesars Pizza near the University. There's a lot of restaurants around it that cater to foreign tastes, apparently including cheap American pizza.
A sign outside the University, next to a gate. The whole campus is gated off, with entrances all around
Another gate
Completely different from Dunkin Donuts. The menu is all in English and every customer looked like an expat or tourist
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