Stray American Girls In Amman

We just finished a week visit with a delightful visitor,  a college student majoring in Middle Eastern studies.  Taking her around Amman prompted some of my BAJO lines, and I remember how refreshingly new it is to see the city from the eyes of another. She was SUCH an easy guest, ate everything, didn’t mind the normal chaos of our home and schedules, listened enraptured my all my stories (key quality) and played Barbies for HOURS with Lil Kinz. Lil Kinz will NEVER be satisfied with me as a Barbie-buddy again. (Hey, kudos to MommaBean for providing several fun diversions for her, including eta-Beans legendary Ma’loobeh).

Listening to her try and speak Fusha (now how to you spell THAT in Arabeezi?) with a smattering of Masri dialect was really cute, too. I’m afraid I really confused her by trying to explain the difference between Masri “geem” and the Karaki “qaf” as “gaf”.

Her visit got me thinking. When we first arrived, Jordan was just NOT on people’s radar.(One of our nieces asked me if it was the country where Michael Jordan was king). It was especially not on the radar of female college students and career girls.   But it seems in recent years, Amman is fairly blooming with Stray American Girls (SAGA). They are studying Arabic, have research projects, are here on exchange programs or grants, or they are working. I meet them everywhere, and have become a SAGA magnet. Many just want to come over and hang out with another foreign family, get a break from immersion or bake cookies.

We have been getting emails regularly for a couple years now from potential SAGAs: a  friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend who has a relative who wants a Middle Eastern experience. Most of the time, if they actually come, it is fun. Most just want a place to sleep between travels. There have been some very intense ladies who I was ready to strangle or boot after three days. The worst one was the friend of the boyfriend of the college-roomate of daughter of the accountant at my sister’s office. We were just entirely too wierd for her, she backed out of the door with wide eyes and never called again. Too hybrid culturally, I guess, or maybe it was getting pounced on by too many kids and our emotionally damaged dog.

Why ‘stray’? I guess I have just become too Arab. I can’t stand the thought of an unconnected girl wandering around with no ‘family’. I worry about them, I call them, I check up on them, I ask where they are and when they are coming home. I DO NOT ask them if they are wearing a hat in the rain or if they need to use the toilet before we get in the car, though.

My most crucial role, seems to be that of translator for the glass walls and ceilings of cultural gender issues. Amman just seems so “normal” and “Western”; as if having Starbucks and Applebees makes the Western concept of male-female relationships work out. For them, having a cup of coffee with Mohammed from the gym is just that, but for Mo, it is something completely different and they do NOT know what they got themselves into. What they promised with smiles, and vibes and visible infatuation. They don’t know how to deal with the staring and all the complimentary lines and promises and  raw masculinity after being used to non-committal, clueless American boy-freshman.

So, today, we send another one back home full of ideas and experiences to process. But there is another new one at church who is going to need help soon, so I better get some more cookie dough made.