That's a Wrap!

In less than 48 hours, I’ll be flying across the Atlantic on my final flight home, and my first day of Davidson classes is in less than 2 weeks.  It’s hard to believe that this summer is nearly over.  In some ways, it feels like I was just packing my suitcase, boarding my flight, and forming my first impressions of the Middle East.  Still, when I think of all that I’ve seen and done, I’m in disbelief that it’s already over.

I came into this experience with as few expectations as possible, not wanting to feel too hopeful or anxious about my time here.  Although I have travelled abroad in the past, this trip has been different from those in the past.  For one thing, it has been the longest time I have ever spent away from my family.  I’m not typically one to feel homesick, but I know that I will appreciate my week at home before I return to Davidson.  As of now, I’ve prepared a list of no less than 14 things (among them: a haircut, a Braves game, and trip to the farmer’s market) that I plan to do while in Atlanta.  Beyond that, there are a countless number of smaller things that I’m looking forward to.  Thunderstorms, meals without rice, and air conditioning top the list.

Spending a prolonged period of time in Amman has allowed me to experience the language and the culture in a more personal way.  This was not a vacation.  I have been immersed through my time with my host family, my daily taxi rides to class, and my journeys through the city streets.  My 10 weeks here have forced me to remove my rose-colored glasses and absorb all of Jordan, both positive and negative.  Amman has served as a comfortable home base, but I think that my travels outside of the city will leave the most lasting impression.

Without doubt, this journey will continue to make an impact on me long after I have returned home.  From my time adjusting to the culture and navigating the city, I think that I’ve gained a new sense of confidence and independence.  My time here has prepared me for a range of future challenges, including my anticipated semester in Morocco next spring.

When I reflect on the past 10 weeks, my primary reaction is one of gratitude.  I am incredibly thankful for the support that I have received from my family, my friends (especially the Davidson crew here in Jordan with me), the Qasid administration and faculty, Dr. Joubin, the Chaplain’s and Civic Engagement Offices at Davidson, and many more.  Thank you all for the support you have given me both before and during my time here.  This has been the opportunity of a lifetime, and I am so appreciative of those who helped make it a reality.

Even Deeper into the Promised Land

I’m officially closing in on the last week of my time here in Jordan.  In some ways, it seems like I was just throwing my things into my suitcase.  Still, when I think about all I’ve seen and accomplished, it’s hard to believe that it’s only been 10 weeks!  But more on final impressions to come…

To take advantage of our last weeks here, we traveled across country lines last weekend, arriving in the middle of Jerusalem’s Old City by midday on Friday.  After hearing warnings of long, complicated passages from Jordan into Israel, we were prepared to spend up to 5 hours at the border.  Fortunately, this wasn’t the case, and we were quickly on our way to the Citadel Hostel, where we spent 2 nights for only $33.  I challenge anyone reading this to find a better deal.

Sawyer and Jordan getting settled in the hostel lobby

We hit the ground running and spent the afternoon exploring all 4 quarters (Muslim, Christian, Jewish, and Armenian) of the Old City, which is contained within towering walls.  The Muslim quarter was the largest and most crowded by far.  It closely resembled the parts of the Arab world that we’ve explored so far, and we were able to practice our Arabic in its shops.  The Christian and Jewish quarters are roughly the same size, followed by the tiny Armenian quarter, which is home to some of the Old City’s first residents.  The boundaries between each of the quarters are loose, which means that people of the 3 most prominent world religions are in constant contact with one another.  Considering the tight intersection of these faiths, it’s not surprising that the region faces constant conflict.  Nowhere else is home to so much history, nearly all of which holds significance for multiple groups of people.

Throngs in the Muslim Quarter

Winding through the various quarters, we walked the Via Dolorosa, which follows Jesus’ path from the time of his condemnation to his crucifixion and burial.  Along the walk, there are 14 Stations of the Cross, marking different points throughout the streets where Jesus supposedly carried the cross.  Pilgrims come from around the world to walk this route, and Jerusalem profits from it.  It may be the only city where you can, in fact, rent a cross to carry as Jesus did.  We opted out of this option, but the experience was still powerful.  It ended in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, where a throng of people waiting to kneel before Jesus’ tomb.  No sooner had we entered the space, though, when one of the brothers ushered us out to make room for the others seeking holiness.

Inside the Church of the Holy Sepulcher

We ended our first evening with a visit to the Western “Wailing” Wall, one of the most significant sites in the Jewish tradition.  Since it was Friday night, we arrived just in time for the first Shabbat celebrations, complete with plenty of singing and dancing.  Quite the party!

The Western Wall before Shabbat.  Men on the left, women on the right.

Day 2 was even more action-packed than the first, so I’ll try to give a quick summary here.  It began with a walking tour of the Old City, followed by a trip to the Garden Tomb, another sight where Jesus may have possibly been buried.  Experts have speculated about this site for a little over a century, which makes it much more recent that the tomb in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.  It was fascinating to see the contrast between the two tombs.  Whereas the Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, and Oriental Orthodox Churches share the Holy Sepulcher, the Garden Tomb traditionally means more to Protestants.  As a result, the older site was elaborately decorated and closely policed, whereas the newer one was simple and quiet.

Inside the Garden Tomb

From the Garden Tomb, we took a bus to Bethlehem, to see where Jesus was born.  Situated in the Palestinian West Bank, the birthplace is no longer a peaceful barnyard scene.  Rather, it’s a point surrounded by yet another elaborate church in the middle of a busting city.  Maybe not what you picture in church on Christmas Eve, but real and captivating all the same. 

The place where Jesus was supposedly born.  I bet it didn't look like this then!

Then, we were back to Jerusalem, where we walked along the ramparts of the Old City’s walls.  Fantastic views, a cool breeze, and the chance to imagine guards patrolling centuries in the past.  It was a great was to reflect on the day and appreciate Jerusalem’s beauty.

Walking the ramparts

On Day 3, our final day, we rode to the top of the Mount of Olives and walked down to the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus spent his last evening praying.  In contrast with many of the biblical sites that we saw, this garden was natural and serene.  It was easy to imagine the garden, filled with olive trees and flowers, as a place for final contemplation.  Altogether, it was a fitting place to end our journey to Jerusalem and begin our travels home.

Olive trees in Gethsemane

This trip was so full that it’s difficult to capture every moment in a blog post, but I hope I’ve given everyone an idea of what we saw.  It was an incredible experience, one that left plenty of room for reflection on history and current interfaith relationships.

Sunset views of the Old City

In a little over a week, I’ll be landing in Atlanta.  As a result, this may be my last post from the Middle East, but I’ll try to wrap it all up at some point soon.  Until then, enjoy the rest of your summer, and I’ll hope to see you state-side!

To the Promised Land

After several consecutive weekends of sticking close to home, we set out on another adventure yesterday, this time to explore the heart of the Promised Land.

Instead of travelling with a Jordanian escort, as we’ve done thus far, we decided to rent two cars for our drive west.  Given my last post on Jordan’s traffic, this may not sound like the best idea.  Since weekends are unusually light, though, the guys behind the wheel (i.e. NOT me) didn’t have any problems. 

St. George Basilica in Madaba

The mosaic map in St. George

Our first stop was in the town of Madaba, about 45 minutes away from Amman.  Known for millennia as a center of tolerant interfaith coexistence, Madaba is home to a substantial portion of Jordan’s Christian population.  Here, church steeples rise alongside the minarets in the skyline.  One of the most prominent steeples sits atop the Greek Orthodox Basilica of St. George, which was our first stop. St. George’s walls are covered with mosaics and paintings depicting various biblical scenes.  Its hallmark feature is a 6^th century mosaic map of the Promised Land, which spreads across the floor near the pulpit.  Following the discovery of this map in the late 19^th century, Madaba was deemed Jordan’s “City of Mosaics,” an apt title given the abundance of this artwork throughout the town.

Learning the stories behind the rugs

We left St. George and began to stroll the streets, eventually stumbling into a shop belonging to a man with a passion for rugs.  Upon entering, we found walls covered in colorful tapestries woven by hand from sheep and goat’s hair.  After showing us some of his stock, the owner offered to take upstairs, where he stores his personal, not-for-sale collection.  Each rug had a story.  We learned the meaning behind their patterns and about the people who made them.  In the end, I made my first souvenir purchase, a beautiful Egyptian rug that will find its home in my dorm room beginning this fall.

My proud purchase!  Still trying to decide whether it will match my turquoise bedding...

From Madaba, we made our way to Mt. Nebo, the site where Moses is supposedly buried.  According to the bible, Moses arrived at Mt. Nebo after his 40 years of leading God’s people through the desert.  Finally, he looked upon the Promised Land intended for the Israelites, and he died shortly thereafter at the ripe age of 120.  Truthfully, the view from Mt. Nebo is nothing extraordinary.  In keeping with the rest of Jordan’s landscape, it’s mostly desert, so it may not have been the “land of milk and honey” that Moses expected.  Still, the history of the place made it worth a special visit.

Memorial for Moses

Looking out over the Promised Land

We made another quick stop at a different panoramic overlook before heading to the Dead Sea, where the temperature was a toasty 108.  Unlike the rest of Jordan, the area around the Dead Sea is humid because of the moisture from the water rising into the air.  As a result, our dip in the pool felt more like a bath, and it was one of the sweatier afternoons of the trip so far.  Once the sun moved lower in the sky, we waded into the water.  After repeated attempts to touch the bottom, I realized it was impossible, as the water was too buoyant.  What a bizarre sensation!  We bobbed around for a while before getting out to smooth mud from the sea’s floor onto our skin.  Because of the minerals in the water, this mud is supposed to have healing properties.  I’m not sure if I’ve felt a difference yet, but I’ll keep you updated!

Do we look any younger?

After cleaning up, we finished the day with a fantastic dinner and returned home, exhausted and slightly sun kissed.  Now, we’re making it through a tough week of final academic assignments before heading to Jerusalem in a few days.  

A relaxing trip, to be sure!

A Lesson on Amman Driving

As a native Atlantan, I thought I knew what traffic was…until I arrived in Jordan.  Driving is pretty crazy here but always entertaining.  Even though I’m not planning to rent a car any time soon, observing people in the streets has been highly entertaining.  In case anyone’s planning to visit in the near future, here are some things to look out for!

Honking:

Maybe the first thing I noticed about drivers in Amman is that they love to use their horns.  Drivers honk for any number of reasons: to say hello, to draw the attention of a pretty lady, to express frustration (sometimes these honks last up to 10 seconds), and to celebrate weddings (lots and lots of honks!).  Drivers substitute honks for turn signals, and they also honk to let someone over.  Since stop signs are by and large ignored, people may honk as they approach an intersection.  Honks work wonders at 4-way stops.  They honk to make pedestrians aware of them, and sometimes…they honk just for the hell of it.

Laws of the Road:

In short, there are very few.  There are no lane lines on the roads, which leaves organization open to interpretation.  Creating new lanes is acceptable, as is pulling along the sidewalk to pass another car.  Despite the high volume of traffic in Amman, it has about as many stop lights as a one-street town.  Somehow, I don’t think people would care to obey them.

Parking:

People park wherever they feel like it.  As with the lanes, there are no designated spaces, so pretty much anywhere is fair game.  Drivers park vertically or horizontally in front of buildings, and when space in front runs out, the sidewalk is also an acceptable choice.  As you might imagine, all of this makes leaving the parking lot a bit tricky.

Taxis: There are 3 types of taxis, and they probably make up a third of all cars in the city.

1.  The Yellow Taxis.  These can also be green.  These are the most common type of cab in Amman and the only type I’ve taken so far.  They’ll take you almost anywhere that you need to go.  Almost.  First, the driver must agree that your desired destination suits him.  If your neighborhood doesn’t sound appealing, then tough luck.

Yellow cabs also have meters, which should be turned on during the day and start at 25 cents.  If they’re not turned on, you can agree on a price before riding anywhere, or in extreme circumstances, you can ask the law-violating driver to take you to the police station.  No drive in Amman should cost more than around 3 JD at most, a rule of thumb that we sadly neglected in our very first ride (see First Impressions post).  After 10 PM, it’s a different situation, with meters starting at 35 cents but often not used at all.  If you’re planning on being out for a while, cabs can be pricier, especially if you’re American.

The ride is an experience in itself.  By custom, women always sit in the back seat, whereas men sit in the front.  Some drivers want to chat (“I bet it’s not this hot in America!”), while others sit stoically.  Several times, my drivers have pulled in front of a convenience store and told to wait while they grab a quick cup of tea of a pack of cigarettes.  This is a testament to the importance of being flexible with your time in the Middle East, as “Arab time” functions somewhat differently from our regimented American schedules.  Despite “no smoking” signs in most cabs, plenty of drivers will still whip out a cigarette (and perhaps offer you one too).  The preferred radio program varies, with blaring Arab music probably being the top choice, followed by the news (sometimes beneficial to my listening skills) and good old American pop (Justin Bieber, anyone?).  I’ve even hailed one cab that played music videos on a screen up front.  Needless to say, that ride cost a bit more.

2.   The White Taxis.  These cabs run on a set schedule, almost like a bus.  They pick people up along their route, which means that those traveling alone or in a couple may end up sitting next to a stranger.  Riskier, maybe, but a good way to meet new people?  I don’t think I’ll be trying it during this trip.

3.  The Silver Taxis.  In all honesty, I have no idea how these work, so I just avoid them altogether.  I’ve heard that they will take you longer distances, so maybe we’ll give them a shot when we visit the Dead Sea.  They seem nicer than the other 2 types, so it’s worth a try!

Walking:

Walking around all of this crazy traffic can seem intimidating, but I’ve learned that there’s actually a system.  It may seem like people will run you over, but this isn’t the case at all.  Drivers are very good about stopping for pedestrians as long as they walk assertively.  This has represented a bit of a learning curve for me, as I’m not the most assertive person, but I think I’ve finally gotten the hang of it.  With practice, I’ve learned to make my way around on these crazy streets!

20 Years and Over the Hill

Because we’ve been close to home the past few weekends, I’ve been somewhat lax with my blog.  But just because we’ve stuck around Amman doesn’t mean that there isn’t anything new to report!

In fact, it’s been a pretty eventful couple of weeks, as I celebrated my first international birthday when I turned 20 on the 11^th.  I wasn’t sure what to expect in terms of a celebration, but between the thoughtful gestures and wishes from friends and family both here and at home, it was a joyful day!

 Since my birthday falls in the middle of the summer, I’ve always had the privilege of relaxing on that day.  I’ve spent birthdays at the beach, the pool, and around Atlanta, but I had never been in class until this year.  Fortunately, we’ve been doing some fun review games to prepare for our upcoming midterm exam, so it was a relatively positive experience.  My afternoon was true to my everyday routine here—gym, homework, and rest—but what followed made for one of the most memorable birthdays to date.

Getting ready to eat with host brother Andrew (age 7)

When I arrived home, the sweet smell of cake immediately brought a smile to my face.  My host mom, Muneira, had baked me a delicious marble pound cake.  This was beyond anything I had expected, and I was very grateful for her thoughtfulness.  Together with my Davidson friends and my extended host family, I enjoyed a great birthday dinner, listened to the birthday song in both English and Arabic, and blew out my candle (I guess I’m getting too old to have one for each year now—wouldn’t want to burn down the house!). 

Slicing the first piece with friend Devin and host brothers Danny (age 28) and Matthew (age 1 1/2)

Later that night, my host brother took Devin, Sawyer, and me to one of his favorite restaurants in town.  As we were talking, everyone in the place suddenly erupted in a “Happy Birthday” chorus.  I was happy but confused, until I realized that it was also the bartender’s birthday.  Oh well!  Happy birthday to us!

Mama Muneira and Matthew.  He's clearly the favorite grandchild.

Thanks to Skype, I was also fortunate enough to talk to both of my parents on my birthday and reflect on my experiences here so far.  July 11^th also marked the halfway point between my departure from Atlanta and my departure from Amman in another 5 weeks, meaning that I’m now over the hill in my time here. 

I intentionally came into this experience with as few expectations as possible, not wanting to feel too anxious or expectant.  Still, I think that if I had recorded some of my predictions, they would have closely resembled the reality of my experience so far.  I am always learning here, as much on the street as I am in class.  Not every day is extraordinary, but I’m experiencing a typical (although privileged) lifestyle in the Middle East, which I believe is more valuable than any action-packed stint of sightseeing.  I have had some exceptional opportunities to see new things and engage in conversations with those who call Jordan home.  The role of religion in society, the bustling yet intentional pace of life, and the complex nature of the Arabic language continue to strike me as some of the most central influences on my life here.  I know that my experience has broadened my understanding of this region and has given me a new sense of confidence.  To have adjusted and be navigating my way around this region has been challenging, but I know that it will prepare me for a range of future tests.

Rocks and Sand and Camels...Oh my!

Another weekend journey down the Desert Highway delivered a group of about 40 Qasid students and a few staff members at Petra’s doorstep last Thursday night.  Originally, our Davidson group had planned to postpone our visit Petra and Wadi Rum, but then Qasid organized a trip that was too good a deal to refuse.  It was nice to relax and let those with more experience plan our 2-night adventure through a couple of Jordan’s most popular sites.

We arrived in Petra uneventfully, and the next morning, we were thrilled to discover that the park entrance was only a short walk from our hotel.  Ordinarily, entrance to Petra costs 50 JD per person, unless you are Jordanian, in which case it is only 1.  Fortunately, our group rate permitted us to visit at a fraction of the regular tourist rate.  Also included in our visit was a guided tour along many of Petra’s most prominent structures, given by a man who helped excavate many of the ruins over 30 years ago.

 Beautiful red rock at Petra

Constructed beginning as early as 1550 BC, Petra was home to several groups of people, including the Nabateans and the Romans.  All of the structures in Petra were carved into the red sandstone using only iron tools (i.e. chisels and hammers).  Its hallmark façade, the Treasury (Al Khazneh) is a towering structure carved into the mountains.  Given the elaborate and expansive nature of the homes, tombs, and governmental buildings that we saw, I can honestly say that Petra is one of the most incredible sights I’ve encountered in my travel experiences. 

The common Nabateans' tombs

Petra's Ampitheater

 

Al Khazneh

About 800 steps later, we arrived at Petra’s highest point, a mountaintop that boasts some of the best views in the area and is home to the city’s monastery (Al Dier).  Our hike lasted about 6 hours total but was rewarding, as it afforded us a glimpse into one of the world’s most ancient, powerful societies. 

Al Dier

Next stop, Wadi Rum.  We drove about 2 hours further into the desert and were greeted by our gracious hosts, all members of the same Bedouin family who lead tours through the Jordanian desert.  To begin our trip, we boarded open-air Jeeps that would take us into the heart of the wadi.  In Arabic, “wadi” means valley, and “rum” means elevated.  Thus Wadi Rum is "The Valley of the Moon."  As we drove deeper into the area, we understood the reasoning behind its name.  Reddish-pink sand covers the ground, and towering boulders rise from every side.  After about 20 minutes of driving, we stopped at a particularly scenic point, just in time to watch the sun set behind the mountains.  After a day full of wonder, I felt overwhelmed with gratitude for my position among friends and nature.  I could never have predicted this opportunity a year ago, and I am continuously grateful to be here.

Sunset at Wadi Rum

Eventually, the last rays dropped below the horizon (on to wake many of my American friends and family), and we continued to our campsite.  Although there were enough tents to accommodate at least 50 people, most of us preferred to sleep in the open air, so we positioned our mattresses on the sand.  A short time later, dinner was ready.  As you might have guessed, ovens are scarce in the desert, so our hosts had instead buried loads of chicken and vegetables in a barrel under the sand.  Hours under the hot sun cooked our meal to perfection, and my mouth watered instantly as a watched the food emerge from the sand.  Following dinner, we listened to the Bedouins’ songs and stories, and we even took a night hike to a nearby mountain, where we sat to admire the stars.

Unburying our dinner

By the time I went to sleep, I was exhausted, but I was fortunate enough to wake around 4 AM to the sound of the day’s first prayer.  One of the Bedouin men had risen to remember God’s presence.  In a large city like Amman, this early prayer is a given daily occurrence, but I was surprised to hear it in such a remote place.  Echoing off of the mountains, it was a beautiful offering of thanks and praise.

We rose early the next morning and boarded the Jeeps again for a 4-hour tour of the desert’s most interesting spots.  Alas, my camera died before this portion of our journey, but it was a great way to end our trip—with more climbing atop high boulders, running down towering sand dunes, and exploring ancient canyons.  A true adventure!

Before returning to Amman, we enjoyed a final offering of “Southern hospitality,” a chance to eat a meal in the home of the Bedouins who had hosted us.  Although there were many of us, they welcomed us with typical Jordanian warmth and sent us on our way with happy stomachs.

I’m planning to stay close to Amman for the next several weekends but hope to travel some more fairly soon.  With an experience as memorable as this one, I feel enthusiastic about the weeks to come.

Finally, I got to pet a camel!  I was obviously very excited.

To the Beach!

Last weekend, the Davidson crew (plus our new British friend, Emily) took our first extended trip outside of Amman, making it to the coastal town of Aqaba in southern Jordan.  Aqaba’s position in the Middle East makes it especially interesting, as it lies only miles from Saudi Arabia and across the Red Sea from both Egypt and Israel.  I had to look at a map to understand just where we were going!

To get to Aqaba, we took the Jordanian equivalent of a Greyhound bus.  Our trip should have lasted around 4 hours, but an Atlanta-style traffic jam forced us to take an alternate route, which added some extra time.  No worries, though, as our new path wound past stunning views of the Dead Sea and through miles of arid desert.  At first, the desert landscape reminded me of many of the parks I’ve visited in the American Southwest—lots of reddish stacked stone canyons and some scattered vegetation.  However, our surroundings became more and more desolate as we traveled south along the road that my guidebook simply calls “The Desert Highway.”  Miles of dusty flatness extended as far as we could see, and the temperature climbed. 

The Desert Highway--that's not a cloud; it's dust!  Not much to see out here.

Almost in Aqaba...

By the time we arrived in Aqaba, it was still hot (daytime temperatures hover around 103), but there was finally evidence of life.  In the mid-60's, Jordan traded 6,000 square km of its desert land to Saudi Arabia for a mere 12 km of coastline on the Red Sea.  Clearly, this tiny port is a point of pride for the country, which has since poured billions of dinar into making Aqaba a top tourist destination.  While it’s no Dubai or Beirut, Aqaba’s green parks and ample shopping are evidence of the money invested there.

After a quick, overpriced cab ride to My Hotel (that was actually its name), we approached the concierge to present passports and determine whether we could save some money on the rooms.  8 students, 2 rooms, 4 double (read: glorified twin) beds, and 1 very tight budget—we could make it work, right?  Unfortunately, the man behind the desk didn’t think so, and we had to purchase an extra room after all.  In the end, we were all probably happier to have the space for our 2 nights in Aqaba.

The next day, we rose early enough to beat the heat and headed to the beach.  Most public beaches in Aqaba are not only crowded, but they also require women to be fully covered, making it impossible to get in the water in less than a burkini (burka+bikini).  As there were 3 of us girls, and none of us felt like swimming in jeans, we found a private beach down the road.  As our beach was located only 12 miles from the Saudi border and adjacent to a Jordanian naval station, security to enter was tight.  Still, a quick examination of our passports was enough to get us on our way to the sand.

In the middle of Aqaba.  That's Egypt across the water.  We could also see Israel across some points.

Fortunately, the weather on the beach was very pleasant, and we spent the entire day relaxing and exploring the coral reefs along the coast.  With the exception of some harmless purple jellyfish, the water was clear, and we were able to see expanses of colorful fish, coral, sea urchins, and more.  Definitely a change from the Gulf swimming that I’m used to!

Our beach.  The Red Sea is blue!

Some of the reefs where we snorkeled

We all agreed that this trip had exceeded our expectations, and I’m looking forward to traveling more over the next couple of months.  Next on the list, Petra and Wadi Rum!

Getting Sporty

I spent a large part of last week volunteering with Reclaim Childhood, a non-profit organization that empowers Iraqi and Syrian refugee women and girls through sport and play.  Founded in 2008 by several Williams College alumnae, RC has been expanding its work in Jordan to include several months of sports camps and coaching clinics each year.  This summer, their sports camps will draw the largest group of refugee girls yet, with 100 registered campers coached by 40 Jordanian women.

As RC's summer programs are just beginning, I arrived just in time to help with their coaching clinic.  Women arrived from across Amman.  Some were graduates of the University of Jordan, others enrolled at the local Hashemite University.  There were Child Development majors and soccer stars, some already married and others only my age.  According to RC's program director, it is very rare to see so many women whose families will allow them to do sports.  For a few hours, they removed their abayas (traditional cloaks common in the Islamic tradition), laced up their tennis shoes, and played.

Upon asking what I could do to help at the camp, I received one instruction--"just play!"  So I did.  Despite the language barrier between the coaches and me, they still welcomed me into their games.  I'm not much of a soccer or basketball pro, but I still had a blast running down the court.  I even blocked a few goals!  Since the camp's primary objective is to instill confidence rather than sharpen skills, we also played a number of ice-breakers.  For those of you who have ever played the "Human Knot" game, be assured that it is even more difficult in Arabic!

In addition to plenty of playing time, the coaches learned about and discussed post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).  Sadly, this affliction affects many refugees, many of whom witness horrific scenes prior to fleeing their homes.  As a Psychology major, I wish that I had understood more of the conversations that the women had about PTSD.  With widespread regional unrest, this problem seems unlikely to disappear any time soon.

My favorite part of the clinic fell on the last day, when "She-Figher" Lina Khalifeh came to discuss harassment and teach self-defense skills.  With a background in martial arts, Lina promotes awareness of violence against women and empowers women to fight back.  Standing at center court, she demonstrated moves that would send any attacker running.  When the women finally practiced, they seemed strong, ready to tackle any challenge, beginning with their summer mentorship roles.

Learn more about Reclaim Childhood here: http://www.reclaimchildhood.org/Reclaim_Childhood/Home.html

Adventure to Ajloun

As a part of our orientation to Qasid, a group of about 100 students travelled on Monday to Ajloun Castle, a 12th century fortress in the north of Jordan.  As we drove, passing first through the affluent West Amman before turning north, I was astonished by the number of trees scattered throughout the hills.  Whereas Amman and the south of Jordan are quite arid, our bus ride brought us through rich agricultural areas, and we even saw a few rivers!  Between the scenery and a few minor bus breakdowns, it was an eventful trip.

One of Ajloun's many towers

The view from the top of Ajloun--there are trees!

Once at Ajloun, our weathered tour guide spoke to us about the castle’s location in an area where hundreds of prophets, including Elijah and Jesus, had supposedly travelled.  Positioned far from other civilizations, those at Ajloun used to send messages by way of homing pigeons.  Who needs the Postal Service?!

An uncovered mosaic in the main hall of Ajloun

 

Following our tour, we enjoyed a traditional Jordanian restaurant-style meal in the nearby town of Jerash.  Shortly after sitting down, we were overwhelmed by the number of dips and salads that our waiters placed on the table.  Hummus, baba ghanoush, and an abundance of hot pita—how could we possibly eat all of this?!  Just when we were really slowing down, the main course arrived!  A member of my host family insists that everyone gains 10 pounds when in Jordan, and I’m beginning to believe her. 

First Impressions

After leaving Atlanta around 3:15 on Wednesday afternoon, I finally arrived at the apartment where I will have my homestay on Thursday at 11 PM Amman time.  As we are 7 hours ahead of EST here, my trip lasted over 24 hours, making me one sleepy traveler by the time I finally got in bed!

I’m staying in the home of Madam Muneira, her husband Albert, and her 28-year-old son Danny, along with two other Davidson students, Devin and Sawyer.  Since family units in the Middle East tend to be closer, one of Muneira’s other sons lives with his family downstairs, and other family members are dispersed throughout the apartment building.  Now, I haven’t actually met Muneira yet—she and Albert are currently visiting another son in the U.S.—but from what I gather, she’s a seasoned host to students and a pretty fantastic cook.  So far, I’ve been hooked on her daughter-in-law’s hummus, foule (a bean dish), and pita bread, so I’m confident that other regional food will go down fairly easily.

Yesterday, Devin, Sawyer, and I set out to explore the city and decided to pay a visit to the Citadel, one of the earliest civilizations in Amman, which was first occupied during the Neolithic period.  Perched atop the highest point in the city, the Citadel offers panoramic views of Amman, and the artifacts in its museum made any early piece of American history seem brand new. 

The Umayyad Mosque

 

Overlooking Amman

While the visit to the site was definitely valuable, the journey that brought us there exposed the Amman novices in us.  Riding in a taxi for the first time, we made the unfortunate mistake of choosing one without a meter, which is illegal but allows the driver to set his own price.  We consequently paid about 5 times what the ride should have cost (I should note that this is still significantly less expensive than most American cabs), accepted our loss, and carried on.  Fooled once, but surely not again.

Today was Qasid’s orientation, a long series of sessions dealing with everything from how to avoid a bad taxi deal (only a little late) to what to expect in the classroom.  I have already met students from across the U.S., U.K., and Middle East, all learning Arabic for different reasons.  With such a diverse range of backgrounds, it’s sure to be a rich experience.

Now, as the call to evening prayer resonates from mosques glowing green around the city, I can feel my eyes drooping and know that it’s time to rest before another long day…

En Route

Why is it that each time I find myself in the Paris airport, it looks completely different?  I remember once being in a modern terminal with arching wooden ceilings, and another time emerging from my gate into a white tunnel and slanted walkways.  This time, my particular section of this expansive traveling place is equal parts 70's and space age.  After using some French to wiggle my way through yet another round of security, I'm now reclining on a chaise that looks like it may have been shared by the Brady and Jetson families at one point in time.  Somewhere behind me, there's some sort of strangely repetitive zen music, which I guess is meant to relax me.  Still, although it's nearly 2 AM in Atlanta right now, I can't stop reviewing all that will happen in the next 24 hours, so rest is difficult.

My resting place of choice in Paris

Fortunately, I had an uneventful flight to Paris.  After making my way through Atlanta's beautiful new international terminal, only to discover that my flight was actually in the old terminal, I hugged mom and dad goodbye (some tissues involved) and hopped on the plane.  The guy next to me was a former Wofford basketball player who had competed against Stephen Curry in his prime.  We got along.  With any luck, my next flight to Amman will be just as smooth.

For now, I have about 6 more hours to kill before takeoff.  Knowing that I would be here a while, I rented The Business of Being Born, which I know will please Gracie, along with Breakfast at Tiffany's and Under the Tuscan Sun.  I've got my journal and my collection of Flannery O'Connor short stories in my bag and, of course, some study material if all else fails.  Maybe I'll even go on a hunt for a good croque madame when I get hungry--yum!

Ready to go!

يَلا

Less than a year ago, the title of this first post would have been completely incomprehensible to me.  Having taken French for most of my life, reading from right to left was pretty foreign.  Looking to learn something new and expose myself to a different culture, I decided to take up Arabic last fall.  Now, after a year of learning Arabic at Davidson, I've learned enough to entitle this post "Yalla!," or "Let's go!"  An apt choice, given my eager anticipation of the journeys ahead.  


This summer, I will be completing the intermediate level of Arabic at the Qasid Institute in Amman, Jordan.  Some students at Qasid are completing undergrad and graduate degrees, while others are learning Arabic for their careers or to better understand their faith.  Among the 230 students enrolled for the upcoming term, 7 of us are from Davidson, so I'll be in good company along the way.  


Apart from lots and lots of studying, I'm hoping to explore the area (Petra, the Dead Sea, perhaps Jerusalem), which is of course steeped in religious, historical, and political significance.  On a lighter note, I'm also dying to ride a camel.  The tourist in me cannot be denied.


For now, I'm enjoying 4 more nights at home before jet-setting out for my summer adventure.  My most pressing task is to finish up my packing of long skirts and lots of sunscreen.  Even after purging myself of as much pleasure reading as I can afford to, this 50 lb. limit is proving to be a challenge.  Arabic books are heavy!