سلحفاة
This word, pronounced solhefa, is arguably the most important word in spoken arabic. Its daily uses are infinite and its meaning is priceless. Yes, Solhefa is the arabic word for turtle.
Snappy (the stuffed beanie baby turtle that climbed 3 peaks in Ecuador with me) and I are currently sitting in the living room of the Quassi family house situated near 7th circle in Amman. There is a fire in the hearth and potatoes in my stomach. My breath smells distinctly of olives and olive oil from a delicious breakfast that included goat cheese, boiled eggs, potatoes dipped in lemon and salt, and many things i don't know the name of yet. All the metal in this room is on fire. The pewter plates on the walls and the dishes on the coffee table catch the fire from the fireplace and dance with it. I am the blue caterpillar on the floor. The house has no heat so Tommy's sleeping bag has come in handy once again. It is a constant cold that sneaks into the cracks in your clothing and sleeping bag. I have befriended the Quassi family (pronounced K-Z) space heaters.
My family is incredible. It consists of my mother Sumar, my father Ali, My sisters Razan (11), Sara (20), Rowaida (26) and Reem (28), and my brother Hamad (13). Yesterday I met the extended family. Too many names to remember. They seem surprised that i only have one brother. They call Sumar "mama" or "ohmi". They call me "Ani". I share a room with Reem in a gorgeous house with a sitting room, a dining room, a living room and kitchen, a basement and 4 bedrooms. Apart from the cold, I can't think of a single complaint and that is more than I ever expected. More details to follow later.
I do not miss America yet, though I do miss simpler times. Every activity and every conversation takes 5 times the effort here. I am not proud of this thought that keeps occupying my mind: I should have gone to a spanish speaking country because I am comfortable with the culture and the language and I would have attained a near-perfect fluency. But I acknowledge that that would have been taking the easy way out and I would have been cheating myself. Nevertheless, I must keep reminding myself of that. I miss Ecuador everyday--the people who I spent time with there, the simplicity of the daily schedule, the fruit. I miss doing dishes and listening to music, I miss the view from high on the mountains and the street food. I diagnosed myself with some form of reverse and twisted culture shock wherein I miss another foreign country more than I do my original home.
For me, my journey to Amman is the long road out of Eden (which, conveniently is the title of the last Eagle's CD). In Ecuador I experienced some form of rebirth and now I am on the road again. It seems never-ending. I am not at ease at having to leave the garden where I was promised food and shelter. I feel like a butterfly turned into a caterpillar again or a 20-year-old turned into a two-year-old with one exception: I am conscious of my naivete unlike most caterpillars and 2-year-olds, and it actively haunts me.
-"Al" Hob
This word, pronounced solhefa, is arguably the most important word in spoken arabic. Its daily uses are infinite and its meaning is priceless. Yes, Solhefa is the arabic word for turtle.
Snappy (the stuffed beanie baby turtle that climbed 3 peaks in Ecuador with me) and I are currently sitting in the living room of the Quassi family house situated near 7th circle in Amman. There is a fire in the hearth and potatoes in my stomach. My breath smells distinctly of olives and olive oil from a delicious breakfast that included goat cheese, boiled eggs, potatoes dipped in lemon and salt, and many things i don't know the name of yet. All the metal in this room is on fire. The pewter plates on the walls and the dishes on the coffee table catch the fire from the fireplace and dance with it. I am the blue caterpillar on the floor. The house has no heat so Tommy's sleeping bag has come in handy once again. It is a constant cold that sneaks into the cracks in your clothing and sleeping bag. I have befriended the Quassi family (pronounced K-Z) space heaters.
My family is incredible. It consists of my mother Sumar, my father Ali, My sisters Razan (11), Sara (20), Rowaida (26) and Reem (28), and my brother Hamad (13). Yesterday I met the extended family. Too many names to remember. They seem surprised that i only have one brother. They call Sumar "mama" or "ohmi". They call me "Ani". I share a room with Reem in a gorgeous house with a sitting room, a dining room, a living room and kitchen, a basement and 4 bedrooms. Apart from the cold, I can't think of a single complaint and that is more than I ever expected. More details to follow later.
I do not miss America yet, though I do miss simpler times. Every activity and every conversation takes 5 times the effort here. I am not proud of this thought that keeps occupying my mind: I should have gone to a spanish speaking country because I am comfortable with the culture and the language and I would have attained a near-perfect fluency. But I acknowledge that that would have been taking the easy way out and I would have been cheating myself. Nevertheless, I must keep reminding myself of that. I miss Ecuador everyday--the people who I spent time with there, the simplicity of the daily schedule, the fruit. I miss doing dishes and listening to music, I miss the view from high on the mountains and the street food. I diagnosed myself with some form of reverse and twisted culture shock wherein I miss another foreign country more than I do my original home.
For me, my journey to Amman is the long road out of Eden (which, conveniently is the title of the last Eagle's CD). In Ecuador I experienced some form of rebirth and now I am on the road again. It seems never-ending. I am not at ease at having to leave the garden where I was promised food and shelter. I feel like a butterfly turned into a caterpillar again or a 20-year-old turned into a two-year-old with one exception: I am conscious of my naivete unlike most caterpillars and 2-year-olds, and it actively haunts me.
-"Al" Hob
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ReplyDeleteAh, the beauty of culture shock. But I love that you're making it work. I suppose it's easier to go head first than hold onto the side of the boat with your feet dangling in the water.
ReplyDeleteI love hearing about your comparisons between Ecuador and Jordan, they are so different I bet!
I'm interested in hearing your experiences of sharing a room with Reem, you will probably talk to her a lot. Who, from the family, do you think you'll be spending the majority of your time with?
I tried to look up Mr. Hobson's arabic sentence above and all I could come up with was, "And wonder that is cheese." I don't think that's right...
Adeus minha amiga (portuguese),
Larn
He just smiled and gave me a Hashemite sandwich.
ReplyDelete