Dust to dust

Jordan is dusty. Really dusty. It's a desert after all.

We sweep, dust, and mop every day.

This is our coffee table less than 24 hours after being wiped down:

The screen of my laptop:

Our clothes are pretty significantly affected by the dirt and dust floating around. It's not too noticeable, that is, until you do some laundry.

We have to fill the left side of our washer with a hose, then put in all of the soap and clothing, and then fish the clothing out of the used water and put it into the spinner on the right.

 

And this is what the water looked like after I did my first set of laundry. Yeah.

The Watermelon War

I've gotten myself into a food war with our upstairs neighbor. I'm not going to take time now to explain how food is a BFD in this part of the world and that there are all sorts of rules and customs surrounding offering and declining food from others (and I still screw this dance up a lot).

I went shopping with our neighbor recently and she and her husband provided me with tea and water at their home before the trip, and then purchased juice for me during (and appropriately refused my offer to pay). I made a mental note to make this up to them this summer.

This evening we hosted a meeting and only about 1/4th of the people who had RSVP'd actually showed up. We therefore were left with an entire half a watermelon, cut up and ready to eat, that no one had touched. The director mentioned that we could bring it to the upstairs neighbors. I jumped up saying, "I'll do it! They've given me food so I need them to see me bringing them food."

I carried the platter outside to where they were working on some plants, and then up to their flat after being invited in. I was proud of myself. A-ha, I thought, now we will all sit in their living room eating my watermelon and chatting politely.

And then she trumped me by plopping a tray of cupcakes on the coffee table next to the watermelon. And yes, everyone ate her cupcakes and drank her tea while we talked.

I left it there and I'm sure her family enjoyed it later, but now I need to think of my next move.

Ana Boheb Urdun

I love Jordan.

Last night was one of those nights where I found myself thinking several times, I love Jordan. Last night was the first time, since arriving June 2nd, that Amman felt like home, the way that I remember it from last year. I'm guessing this has everything to do with the fact that last year I lived in West Amman with a host family, and this year I am living in Hashmi. {Not that I dislike Hashmi, but if you've been to East and West Amman, you get where I'm coming from here}.

I reunited with a few relatives of my host family from last year at Ahli Club, way the heck out past Deir Ghbar, near the highway to the airport (over 3 dinars away from Hashmi by taxi). The relative is Circassian, so we met up with a bunch of her Circassian friends at what is apparently an all Circassian club.

{Circassians, referred to often as Cherkess, are a minority group in Jordan. They were driven out of the Caucusus by the Russians in the late 1800s. Yes, Jordan has become quite the catch-all for people who have lost their homes for one reason or another}.

I need to recalibrate myself to Arab time. We planned to meet at 6:00. I decided to arrive at 6:35 and thought I had done quite well with that judgment. Everyone else arrived at 7:00. Oh well.

Behind the high whitewashed walls was a lovely courtyard with waiters passing amongst a collection of tables. There weren't many people there as the work week here begins on Sunday so Saturday nights are usually quiet. Of those present, however, there were quite a few teen and young adult groups of mixed gender. It was explained to me several times that Circassians are open and okay with close friendships between men and women.

We did end up crashing an engagement party, and that was fun although a little odd. After watching a traditional dance practice session for teens inside the building, someone thought it would be fun to show us the real deal. We poked around to the second courtyard where a very elegant Circassian couple was clapping rhythmically, along with their guests, as attendees took turns dancing two at a time in the middle of a large circle. I was told that this was an important cultural dance for Circassians and that every Circassian knows it. Indeed, the guests frequently traded off dancing in the center (always one man and one woman), and everyone seemed to know exactly what to do.

The friends with us began to push us {me + another American student living with my host relative} forward. The other girl and I refused and clung to each other, until we realized that they were simply trying to get us to stand on the side of the circle with the women, and not with the men where we had been. Phew. They weren't trying to make us dance.

In order to leave, we had to cut across the circle right in front of the bride and groom, wearing jeans while she was wearing a sparkly gown. I made eye contact with her as I passed and I'm sure she was thinking, "Who the Hell..."

Despite being tired and having to work on Sunday, when we left Ahli we went to The Circassian Charity Association where we interrupted yet another event. Some man, whom we later learned is a very important general from somewhere, was speaking and taking questions from a lot of very concerned and intently interested people. I was later told that they were discussing, basically, how to get their land back from Russia and what the U.N. could do for them about it. Once again our new Circassian~Jordanian friends pushed us right through the middle of the room to open seats a bit close to the front.

That was over shortly after we arrived and, after shaking hands with this general whose name and citizenship I still do not know, we walked next door to Al Jeel club, another Circassian-only club. We did not stay very long, but saw a beautiful rooftop cafe with a giant screen showing music videos and quite a few young adults enjoying the place. There was also a vigorous game of soccer being played on the first level.

Around this time in the night, a whole bunch of memories from last year came flooding back. All of those late nights (even during the week) that we spent visiting relatives, house hopping until 11pm, me with my homework in tow. How it was fun to drive through the cool (temperature wise) yet vibrant streets, visiting relatives, eating food, drinking tea, and not totally understanding the conversation, but just floating on the sidelines. {Yet it also drove me crazy because it was usually on a school night when I had vocab to memorize}.

Agreeing that it was *almost* time to call it a night, we went to Sweifieh where I ate at KFC for the first time in my entire life. During this late night snack I remembered how, as much as it can seriously be a pain in the ass at times, I love the Arab shove-food-in-your-face aspect of hospitality. It's so attentive. Overwhelming at times, sure, but nice to pick up your last bite and have someone notice and shove a platter in your face for seconds. Last night I was so glad that I had chosen to live with a host family last year, because now I have an Arab (and part Circassian) family for life.

After the group finally split, I went home with my former host cousin because Hashmi is just so far away from life in West Amman {geographically and culturally}, and I wasn't going to take a taxi at midnight.

This morning, she and I caught up on all of the family gossip over Nescafe. يا الله.

Sugarcane and Sparklers

Today I went shopping down in the bellad with one of my favorite Iraqi families (Note: They're all my favorite). I popped by their flat and, after going through the ritual greetings and sharing cups of tea and water in the living room, we were off in a taxi. After getting what we were looking for, we stopped at a juice stand. There was a guy behind the counter blending fruit juices, but if you wanted some sugarcane juice, the guy out front fed stalks into this contraption, and the super fresh juice dripped out the bottom. It was delicious. Just the right amount of sweet.

I also attended a kids' birthday party today, complete with Arabic 'Happy Birthday,' cupcake decorating, and those awesomely intense candles/sparklers that would probably be illegal to market to children in the U.S.

 

Hip Hip Hooray

[Hip, Hip, and Hooray in a plastic bag, acclimating to their new tank.]

After several weeks of staring at our empty-but-for-the-algae-and-snails fish tank, we decided, while walking past a fish and bird (only?) shop in East Amman, that it was finally time to add a little bit of color to the thing.

The guy there clearly thought that we were dumb foreigners who didn't know what's what [alright, the dumb foreigner part might be true, but we know how much fish are supposed to cost], and tried to sell us a Betta for 5JD. Knowing they should only cost 1JD each, we moved on instead to these colorful little guys. They were 3 for 1JD and looked quite beautiful swimming around together in a school. We picked blue ~ أزرق, red ~ أحمر, and yellow ~ أصفر.

Once out of the baggie and into their new tank, the little guys (now called Hip, Hip, and Hooray) freaked out. They were trembling and darting up and down in the tank. It was a full on fish panic attack x3. I was expecting to see them go belly up any minute, but eventually, fortunately, they calmed down.

If they're good (and if they survive), we'll get them some playmates.

Ammanford

I have no idea where that is, but each time I put "Amman" into Weather.com's search bar, it asks if I'm looking for Ammanford, U.K.

Wherever they are, the residents of Ammanford don't seem to ever be having good weather when I check on them, poor  blokes.

As for us, in the "other" Amman, we're having a perfect day.

Speed

Today I was asked {in English} if I wanted my coffee with or without speed. Hmmm, I thought, isn't that a bit excessive?

It turns out he meant 'sugar'. But interesting idea.