http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080703/ap_en_ot/breaking_the_veils
HRH Princess Wijdan is one of the organizers, Amman local Nawal Abdullah’s work is included.
Maybe old news to some, but it was new for me and I am proud!
Being in America continues to both delight and shock me.
In Yer Face-ness: At the Burger King condiment counter at the St. Louis Airport (after waiting in line twenty minutes for a salad, only to be told they were out and I could go wait in a longer line at Calif. Pizza Kitchen and pay 2x as much for half the size). So read the sign above the trash bin: “Toss It In, Drop It In, Slide It Off The Tray, Just Get Your Trash In Here SOME Way”
Black Chevy Suburbans:Do not drive in pairs running you off the road. I still move toward the right shoulder if I see them coming, they look at me funny. That’s if they pass me, most seem to meander real slow-like. They must do royalty real diff’ernt here in the country.
Tattoos:I’m hoping my little slice of MidWestern Americana is not indicative of the state of the union in regard to body art. I’m ok with a delicate rosebud inside an ankle, but the excessive and seeming addictive nature of this tattooing craze is enough to make me throw up. Men seem to be covering their whole upper bodies with the most tasteless designs, then go shirtless to show it all off! It seems they were not only drunk, their tattooer was too. I think it should be a requirement that people should be able to at least spell ‘permanent’ as a condition of being able to get tattoos. Women seem to plan wardrobes around shirts and shorts which reveal their strategically placed images. There is going to be some serious ugly going on when these folks get to be 60 and it fades and droops.
Chicago Traffic: People, no wonder you have to wait SO long stalled in traffic. You leave 20-50 feet between each car!! Get over the personal space business and scoot up! When you are going 5mph, what’s the difference? We do it in Jordan at 60kph and no one even flinches.
Pot Holes in the Roads: Yup, Amman has some serious pot-hole competition on Butterfield. And the 55, and 355 and and and. OK, so if the State of Illinois is having such a budget crisis, apply for USAID like Jordan did for roadworks. There are enough Jordanians in Chicago to justify it, mish?
Wedding Screams: At a family gathering, a friend of the family came up to me and said: “You’re the one who lives in Jordan, right? Tell me, I have just got to know. My brother just married a nice Jordanian Orthodox girl. Really nice girl, but the family…the family scares me. It took them TWO years just to get over the fact my brother wasn’t Jordanian, then they had to pick a wedding date when the WHOLE family could fly over, then insisted in having the wedding mass said in ARABIC, I mean hey, we ARE in America, yea? To top it all off, the mother of the bride started screaming and screeching at the end of the ceremony, and the aunts made this weird sound and covered their mouths like no one should see it!!!”. I was ROFL inside, and asked her if the screech sounded something like: “AAAyyyyyEEEE blah-blah dododo, AAAAAAAyyyyEEEEEEE, sabagataba, AAAAyyyyEEEEEE lala ya helwa” The woman nodded looking astonished, and I explained it was just a tradition, I though it was a blessing of some kind, sending the bride off. I told her to go watch “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” again.
Corvettes are the new kounouz favorite. They are wondering why all we see are Fords, Chevys, where are all the Mitsubishis and Kias?
Cute Kids: No one looks twice at the kounouz here. Another blonde kid, yea, move along please. When in the mall with my Jordanian friend, she was stopped every twenty feet by some Texan woman marveling over baby M’s impossible eye-brow-hitting eye-lashes or drooling over toddler S’s perfect ringlet dark curls.
Southwest Airlines: Akin to an American air-serveeece, now I know where they get the term ‘air-bus’. We long distance haul types are spoiled. Very spoiled.
Have you seen the new “Field Guide To Jordan”? If i can use a very VIVA term, it’s a MUST-HAVE!!!
At only 15JD, it is a wealth of words and images capturing the fine details of this unique land that is Urdun. If you are looking for gifts for far-flung Jordanians that will make them cry with homesickness and come back, this is it. Available at Readers, and all the usual places. (hat-tip: Desertmom, my flora & fauna resource). Who would have known the Maani clan are so multi-talented? Not only can one of them run a city really well, they are amazing artists.
Can you tell i’ve been shopping for gifts? More ideas for the thrifty minded:
* for wrinkling middle-aged sisters-in-law, $20 tubes of RetinA are only 5.5JD at Cozmo.
* Al Afghani Bazar (Bizarre? Bazaar? Bazaziir?) ) has cool ‘frig magnets.
* an even cheaper “Mish Normal” knock-off at Duwwar Hawuuz has Cold Water Creek blouses for 2JD
(Sorry I’ve been such a bad blogger. But I’ve been a good mom, so priorities are in order)
This Friday, in addition to photographers capturing images of little leaguers for team photos, we saw some serious camera-men/persons? shooting parts of the games and interviewing players. I thought “Well, I guess the local newspapers finally decided baseball was a newsworthy item!”.
Well, it was a bigger deal than just that! Desertmom called to say it was none other than Al Jazeera, in the flesh. They interviewed Munir Odeh and David Nuqul about the game and their involvement. Hope they noticed they EXTREME commitment of parents, who froze and endured windy dust on par with salon exfoliation treatment to cheer their kids on.
Glory be. I hope no one told them how many coaches are Americans and, horrors, some even Evangelical Christians; it may never get on the air. OK, I’m being unduly snarky, please forgive me :). I am just glad they saw the value of the sport for Jordanian kids enough to cover it. Hopefully no conspiracy-theorists will catch that most of the moms bring artery-clogging Planet Donuts for post-game snack.
OK, but what I’m REALLY happy about is that they found out about it through a magazine article. As far as I know, I’m they only one ever haven written on the subject so far, during my short but bitter-sweet tenure with Family Flavours Magazine (the 7iber folk kindly posted it here, too).
Heh-heh. Tickles me, indeed. Can’t wait to tell my my US-bound friends I inspired Al-Jazeerah. Must be a slow features week. 
I don’t know when it will be aired. Let me know if you see it!
I think the Traveling Pants have flown their last frequent flier mile.
Why is it that when the man of the house is out of the house and far, far away, I always end up with a child in the hospital, a major car breakdown and an American friend married to a Jordanian guy in trouble? ALL at once???
Sigh. The mechanic just came with the latest verdict. The third verdict of this particular trip, mind you. First payout was 80JD for the twenty-year old car we thought would die by now. The second for our ‘newer’ car, 277JD to cover the blow-out, new brakes, suspension stuff, new muffler pipe and other stuff. Shocked I am, that even ‘old’ parts on ‘newer’ cars cost 3x what the older car does. Then, I could tell the newer car just was not running right and feared the gas tank was leaking. Bingo. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t taken auto-shop and couldn’t recognize spark plug issues. The verdict: nearly 500JD. I am choking, and I fear hubby will be choking too.
Not to mention the freezer defroster not working, a valve in laundry room needing replacement, having to contact the property manager AGAIN to ask why the ads aren’t in the Sunday paper. This is husband work, I am SO not cut out for it. I need my man.
My American friend is an Extreme Prodigal. You know, the biblical story of the Prodigal Son, but she is a daughter. I learned an important lesson this year: do NOT feed a prodigal. If you give them a snack when they are starving, they stay in the pig pen. Let them starve; they come to their senses, come home and repent. She came home, ready for true change, asking for help. She is making good choices, and this is a bright spot on a bad day. It’s just terribly draining to hear of West Ammani lifestyles, like something out of NYT fictional bestseller, that I wish didn’t exist. It’s also risky to get back involved knowing she may not have paid the full consequences. But that is what friends are for.
Thank God hubby doesn’t work outside Jordan permanently, that the hospital visits were brief, we don’t pay American wages to the mechanic and we have the extraordinary blessing of not one but two cars. I also thank Him that my friend could’ve gotten away with it in the US, but an honor-based society forced her back in line.
I am most thankful that the Traveling Pants have begun their descent. If he wasn’t coming soon, that last paragraph would be a fake-it-til-you-make-it-living-in-denial ending to this day.
And I know, the cool stories he comes home with will change my mind, and just another trip won’t look so bad. Plus, the next time he travels, I get to go too!
(History Buff is feeling better, thanks for asking. He was messing around with his crutches today and fell flat on his injured ankle, but seems ok now)
What is it about black BMWs and Mercedes drivers that they just MUST exceed the speed limit? Yesterday, one of each sped through a residential area when kindergarten kids were getting out. Had a child run into the street, he/she would be quite dead, not enough of a body left for proper washing and burial.
Later in the day in a different area, when another school was getting out, this particular BMW passed me three times as if on crack while school children lined both sides of the street. It was being driven by a young man, his shirt even appeared to be one of the local private school uniforms. There were young children in the car, not buckled.
The third time, I braked in the middle of the road to make him stop so I could get a look at the license plate. This is it. I hope someone does something about it.
How many more lives will be cut short due to stupidity?
**UPDATE: Ali blogs about a four year old boy who was killed by such a driver yesterday. On his birthday. I am ready to start a MADD group - Mothers Against Delinquent Drivers.
That is my new phrase of the day, and my decision of the day to ponder. What do you think I should do?
One thing I HATE about living here, is being forced to be someone I am not. I am not by nature an aggressive driver, I follow the rules and give people lots of room who don’t. But here, if I want to get in the flow of traffic, when NO ONE will move left to a clear lane to accommodate new traffic, where no one uses the nifty European ‘zipper’ method of merging, I will go fast with a big car and force my way in. It goes against my nature, and I resent it.
Another thing I hate is men who think I would be attracted by their staring, gross tongues, and grosser sexual invitations. Even in front of my kids. In order to appear ’strong’ and not weak, I have to get in their face and act like a you-know-what to defend my honor. I am a nice person, a moral woman of deep faith, a faithful wife, and their innuendo makes me want to throw up (all over them).
My latest thing I hate is the attitude of a certain magazine owner who has chosen not to pay his free-lancers for four months, letting his admin girl be the fall-gal to deliver the: ‘insha’allah next week’ refrain. For twelve weeks I had been kind, understanding and cooperative. But to him, a mild-mannered marshmallow to take advantage of. This marshmallow finally got singed to the point she is discovering her inner-Erin Brockovich.
A month ago ago I called a couple of the other free-lancers and discovered they were getting the same run-around. We decided to stop submitting articles until we were paid. It didn’t help, the mag just started advertising for more suckers to string along. I decided we may be stronger as a unit than as individuals, and began to think class-action. One of them asked me to start a union for them. Chuckle. Me, the Republican, Right-Wing Bottom-Feeder, starting a free-lance writers union. Mostly, I just want to handle this like Jesus would want me to.
I used my developing super-sleuth /journalistic skills to track the guy down, and discovered he is hardly a starving entrepreneur. He is a man of means and assets. I brought little Kinz with me and waited for him to open his store (I figured he wouldn’t yell at me if I had her with me). I sat down and kindly explained there must be some mistake, I’m sure he just forgot, but he has been remiss in paying his free-lancers, and it is time to make it right. He frowned: “How do you know them?” I said: “We are all bloggers, we have websites that thousands of Jordanians read”. He looked startled, then stood up and said: “Next week, insha’allah”. I told him, with a smile, I am tired of insha’allah, my trust has been broken and I would be happy to take goods from his store in the amount I am owed. He sat back down and smiled and said: “But no, you will have a check next week”.
A week passed. No call, no check. I asked blogger El 3atel what he thought I should do, since he had been well-acquainted with the non-paying-company-syndrome. He said “Be a lion”. ROARR!!! I roared to God in prayer asking for wisdom, hoping I wouldn’t have to do this, but it seems a part of my character development He desires done.
I sent and email yesterday saying exactly what I wanted. I got one back saying the check would be ready Sunday, but that they forgot the raise per piece they had given in December and didn’t include the latest issue’s work. I sent an email back saying I wanted the full amount as I submitted the latest issue’s work early and they were the ones who were late to print.
Today, I got the answer to my prayer. Two actually. One friend who has royal wasta said she could arrange a little phone call. The father of another friend offered his company legal counsel and advised me to file an “Inthar 3adileh”, to give the man two weeks notice before I actually start legal action against him for all the free-lancers, including fines, interest, and reimbursement for Tylenol. I sent the owner another email saying if the full amount I requested was not available Sunday, we would proceed to file the Inthar 3adileh on Monday. One of the other writers laughed that I seem to have more wasta than he does. Bizarre.
This is so scary (not nearly as scary as previous Mafia connections. But that is another story :D).
But, I think I am doing the right thing. If any of you have anything to add, please speak up! And what does Inthar 3adileh mean, anyway?
After seventeen months of blogging, 425 or so posts, 84,000 or so views and more than 30,000 spam comments, I just received my 5,000th comment!!
Gila Weiss is a new linker, an American-Israeli blogger who lives in Tel Aviv. She is a survivor of a bomb attack there, which is why she started her blog ‘My Shrapnel”
In the last month, I’ve been linked by three American women living in Israel. It has been an eye-opener, and a reminder why we need to be ‘in touch’ at many levels to hear stories from every side of the issue. I trust we can all ‘be nice’ to one another as we connect on-line and bump into painful areas.
Thanks to all who continue to make this blogging experience a fun, instructive and stretching part of life.
I was starting to post about an amazing Easter Celebration, but realized it has just been an amazing week with which today’s Easter festivities were a culmination of joy. God’s hand has been upon us this week in a special way.
1) First, Abu Kounouz did have cancer in that tumor that was removed, but it was a superficial basal cell carcinoma and was caught early. All because we watched a movie which had Karposi’s Sarcoma as a theme and reminded hubby he should get that sore checked out. (Side note, but I must admit my error of judgement with the Dr’s stitching: the nasty stitches were removed, there is no bad scar. Sorry, Doc!)
2) I had a wonderful time meeting a bunch of ex-pat ladies at Um Omar’s to meet her mother. Lovely group of mover/shakers, some bloggers, some commenters, some ‘lurkers’ (I see you, M!), the food was delicious (shu, the biggest mound of guacamole I have ever seen, from PALI avocados!) and of course, my fav MommaBean who also brought HER mother.
3) Later that evening, our church youth group had a going-away potluck for several college students who had spent a ‘gap’ year in Jordan and had volunteered to help our young people grow spiritually. We had had a youth pastor for two years, but there had not been a suitable replacement. Our older teens decided to run it themselves, (with some parental investment) organizing VERY fun bi-monthly large group gatherings, and small group bible studies during the other weeks. The did an EXCELLENT job! I listened in on the one Spikekid attends, and was astounded by the maturity, leadership and practicality of teaching exhibited by the older teens.
The youth group is half the size of the church, and I believe their fire and commitment is bringing a form of spiritual revival to us all. We in the church are loving one another better, being more involved and more fully invested in one another’s lives. Listening to the kids lead worship and see the power point of the highlights of their year brought tears to my eyes. It seemed Easter began than night as we all saw how God had brought these college kids in such unique ways, and how they were touched by the investment they made in our kids.(oh yea, and the food was ‘church-potluck-at-it’s best’; I think one could measure spiritual revival by what kind of food the participants bring: there was food made from US-stash ingredients that took some time to prepare. Generosity flowed!)
4) The new car hadn’t been driving well, it seemed like it needed some alignment/brake work (hhmmm, a little too fast over those speed bumps perhaps Kinzi?). On the way to baseball (7:45am, mind you) a serious banging noise started while flying down airport road, and hubby discovered a piece of tail pipe missing. He then slowed down a bit and stayed to the right lane. Good thing, as not ten minutes later one the rear tires blew and shredded, and he was able to pull over without a problem. Had we been going fast, it may not have gone so well for a van packed with people. The man behind us pulled over and helped hubby change the tire, so we got to enjoy Jordanian hospitality in one of it’s best manifestations without mansaf! And not five minutes after that, a church family on the way to the ball field saw us, and promptly took the coach and kids to their game right on time.
5) After one of the baseball games, I was talking to a mother and some of her extended family I hadn’t met before. Just chatting, she asked me what I do here. When I mentioned the course for abuse victims, I noticed they all blanched. She leaned in and said “Could you spare some time to talk to us about this? We just discovered our family has been affected by this horror and we don’t know what to do”. I knew immediately God had brought me there just for those woman. They were so desperate for help they trusted a stranger they knew for ten minutes to help navigate a very difficult and delicate life tragedy. We spent a half hour talking, and had put together an applicable plan for the victim, the abuser and the family. I cried afterward, at the great love of God to allow that ‘chance’ meeting just when it was needed.
6) I had been way too busy, and my US-stash too barren to contemplate a real event Easter egg hunt for the kids. Then MommaBean came up with a plan that would be fun AND promised to be a huge return on little investment. I also found a mini-stash of suitable ‘hunt-worthy’ treats, and had just enough time post-baseball to power-color eggs and get the rest all ready. It was a delightful time for all the kids, and us adults too. Um MommaBean & Um El 3atal both provided my kids with some ‘grandma’ words and kindness. Thank you, Momma Bean, El 3atal, MimiBean, TetaBean and Helper Bean!!
7) After preparing the Traveling Pants for another journey, the rest of us (plus Gaza Girl :D) went to church for our evening Easter service. Pastor Rick gave us a dramatic presentation of the last earthly days of Christ, and the resurrection story, from the perspective of the Apostle Peter. From his confident outbursts, his denial of Christ, and finally that beach-side conversation with the Lord where he received His calling to ‘feed My lambs” it was a moving way to remind us all again the power of what we would celebrate the next morning. It kept my mind filled as I stayed up to midnight making cinnamon rolls to take to the sunrise service the next morning. 
to be continued…
* I can tell it is time to get out of Jordan for awhile. Coming on to Zahran yesterday off 6th Circle, a little VW Bug zipped in front of me at the u-turn and stopped in the lane that feeds on to this main thoroughfare. I slammed on the brakes, then did the polite short ‘beep’. He didn’t budge, so I did two long honks. He made that “What is your problem?” hand motion, and meanwhile everyone behind me is backed up and honking too. SO, I lost it and screamed out the window in English, “This is a STREET, not a parking lot, get your BUTT out of the road!”. He started up and zoomed off, indignant. The car was packed with kids, and they were very silent and wide-eyed.
* It is ant-season. Creative creatures, they find every missed crumb on the counter and send a shock-and-awe army to retrieve it. The Kounouz are on ant-patrol, now, armed with a bottle of Easy and handful of Fine to clean up the remains. No more laziness with the dishes.
* Sunday is Easter and I haven’t done a THING. We are going to have to do power egg-coloring Friday, indeed. Thank God for MommaBean, who has a plan to save Easter for the kids in planning an egg-hunt.
* TOO much going on. But all fun stuff. Today, we have a small gathering at Um Omar’s house to meet her mom, then a pot-luck later. The seasonal goodbye parties are starting, and I realized I need to plan two birthday parties in the three weeks before we leave. To save fuel costs, I am now baking 4 batches of my famous brownies at a time and freezing them. I think I have made 100 batches of brownies this year.
* Remember SAGA? Well, there is now SAMA - Stray American Men in Amman. About 75 American college students are on an exchange program through CIEE at JU. They have saved the season for Amman Little League Association, as they are looking for ways to serve the community and are helping coach teams. They are hoping to serve in areas more needy than the upper-crust baseball community, so watch out Action Committee, they are coming your way! They are good boys, they know the rules, don’t worry about having to lock up your daughters.
* I am learning lots of new tactics in my new role as debt-collector. A certain magazine has passed the 90 day mark of non-payment. After the 12th weekly run-around from the receptionist, editor and manager, I tracked down the owner and made my plea, with Lil Kinz in tow. Ma ahwani, eh?I was proud of myself that I didn’t cry in frustration, but I did not come back with dinar nor goods in payment. Just the ‘next week’ promise. Uh-huh. Any tips, guys?
* I am not alone in this role, and one of the other free-lancers asked if I would start a writers’ union. HAH! So, to the commentor who thinks I am a right-wing ‘bottom feeder’, take note I am on my way to becoming a Union Boss.
Have a wonderful weekend! For those who are observing Good Friday tomorrow, may the Lord meet you in a new and fresh way as you contemplate the cross. For those celebrating The Passover, I don’t know the right words, so I’ll just say the same thing: may the Lord meet you in a new and fresh way as you contemplate His faithfulness!
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