Here's the sequel:
Tomorrow morning the entirety of the Jordanian police will be triangulating the location and looking for the man who stole my phone. I get this impression from the fact that today Ahmed, Dema and I met every Jordanian Policeman affiliated with the criminal division in the country.
We climbed the bureaucratic ladder (often literally climbed because important buildings are on hills and parking lots are not) until we met with the Colonel boss man in charge of all criminal divisions in the country. I got his digits. He was basically a gangster. He had 3 separate phones that kept ringing one after the other (for 30 seconds he had to have phones on either side of his face to answer them) so it was 10 minutes before Ahmad could communicate more than a fragment sentence with him. He was good-natured though and his assistant brought us tea which we had to leave unfinished because a minute later we were on our way to another dingy room with gargantuan chairs made for Hagrid's character in Harry Potter. The chairs were such that you could either 1) sit on the edge of your seat or 2) lean back and have both legs sticking straight out in front of you (and showing the bottom of your shoe is a cultural taboo....so it was an incredibly uncomfortable day).
Ahmad and Dema were my translators and representatives and the most I could do was sit there and look sad. It turns out I am good at this. Apparently an international roaming incident such as this has never happened in Jordan's history and they are motivated to get to the bottom of it.
Ahmad has an incredible Wasta. I watched as he chatted up the Colonel until they were best friends after 5 minutes. The Colonel even chose not to answer his phone calls thrice in order to make small talk with Ahmad. The conversations that Ahmad and Dema carried with the various policemen sounded like this:
"ahlanachblakfiwadlikatitha Telifone atkamanleetmadafanil Orange Mobile jamyatalibfilougaarabiwa Roaming fibaeditthathmilhamzeen HTC Mytouch sookootmabarifalatikamanshukranikteer"
with the rare understood vocab word thrown in.
Every new station we went, we left with another important-looking packet of stamped documentation with intricate seals on it. I wrote my mother's name in Arabic at some point.
Tomorrow morning the entirety of the Jordanian police will be triangulating the location and looking for the man who stole my phone. I get this impression from the fact that today Ahmed, Dema and I met every Jordanian Policeman affiliated with the criminal division in the country.
We climbed the bureaucratic ladder (often literally climbed because important buildings are on hills and parking lots are not) until we met with the Colonel boss man in charge of all criminal divisions in the country. I got his digits. He was basically a gangster. He had 3 separate phones that kept ringing one after the other (for 30 seconds he had to have phones on either side of his face to answer them) so it was 10 minutes before Ahmad could communicate more than a fragment sentence with him. He was good-natured though and his assistant brought us tea which we had to leave unfinished because a minute later we were on our way to another dingy room with gargantuan chairs made for Hagrid's character in Harry Potter. The chairs were such that you could either 1) sit on the edge of your seat or 2) lean back and have both legs sticking straight out in front of you (and showing the bottom of your shoe is a cultural taboo....so it was an incredibly uncomfortable day).
Ahmad and Dema were my translators and representatives and the most I could do was sit there and look sad. It turns out I am good at this. Apparently an international roaming incident such as this has never happened in Jordan's history and they are motivated to get to the bottom of it.
Ahmad has an incredible Wasta. I watched as he chatted up the Colonel until they were best friends after 5 minutes. The Colonel even chose not to answer his phone calls thrice in order to make small talk with Ahmad. The conversations that Ahmad and Dema carried with the various policemen sounded like this:
"ahlanachblakfiwadlikatitha Telifone atkamanleetmadafanil Orange Mobile jamyatalibfilougaarabiwa Roaming fibaeditthathmilhamzeen HTC Mytouch sookootmabarifalatikamanshukranikteer"
with the rare understood vocab word thrown in.
Every new station we went, we left with another important-looking packet of stamped documentation with intricate seals on it. I wrote my mother's name in Arabic at some point.
Ultimately, we visited 9 different rooms, 13 different officers and 3 police buildings on our quest for justice. The total trip took 4 hours.
I also saw 17 different portraits of King Abduallah (every room and hallway was dotted with different representations of the King going about his daily life). There was a picture of him smiling at his baby son, one of him on a black Harley motorcycle, and one of him with a mug working on his dell computer. Despite it being taboo to take pictures in police stations, I snuck one in...
 | |
| This masterpiece is the much-awaited King Abdullah wall rug. |
Random thought: If Ahmad is a Jedi Knight wielding a saber of Wasta, then that means King Abdullah is Yoda. (They actually kind of look alike, it's in the eyes).
Do you think they have ever made King Abdullah Kleenex or toilet paper? How about put his face on some yogurt. Now that's product placement! Though I am sure that there is an assigned minister who has legal rights to Abdullah's face. The minister of Face, bahahaha. Today I met the minister for crime concerning mobile phone robberies. Fun Fact: Jordan has the most modern phone locating department because Jordanian intelligence is top 3 in the Middle East.
So what's the prognosis?
A couple things still need to happen before I can get the 3,000 back...
1) They have to actually catch the guy, which seems likely,
2) We have to take him to court.
3) He has to actually have money.
...so this process will take a long time, probably months, but it is incredibly worth it given how much I am learning from it about the culture, workforce and legal element here in Jordan.
1) They have to actually catch the guy, which seems likely,
2) We have to take him to court.
3) He has to actually have money.
...so this process will take a long time, probably months, but it is incredibly worth it given how much I am learning from it about the culture, workforce and legal element here in Jordan.
Driving back to Abdoun, Ahmad reassured me with an Arab proverb that roughly translates to "Allah must have willed it this way to save you from a greater evil" He gave the example that Allah would cause you to get a flat tire on the side of the road only to prevent an accident up ahead. That made me feel better. Dema told me to contact her if I needed to talk or needed anything. I was just glad to not be fighting this battle on my own.
Completely reassured by the powers of the Wasta (which I imagine to be much like using "the force" to do your jedi bidding), I was able to return my attention to life in Amman. I am extremely grateful to Jedi Knight Ahmad and my "mother" figure Dema for accompanying me on this journey and fighting for me. I owe them more than I could ever give (probably more than 3,000 dollars).
On the way to the gym everyday, I pass the following car. One day I want to wait and meet its owner. It is my Jordanian dream car...a midnight blue Mercedes Kompressor with a Johns Hopkins sticker on the back window. I just need to know...
I ended the afternoon giggling with Dropek, and singing "I'm Your Lady" by Celine Dion, a song that is more appreciated in Jordan than it ever was/will be in America, as my friend Biff pointed out. This was a much needed change from the stoic morning. After a solid cardio workout, Dropek, Megan and I spontaneously decided to participate in a oriental dance (basically belly dancing) class with an instructor named Rico. We have to wear the colorful jangly hip scarf thing that makes sounds when you shake your tail feathers. This was my second time and I'm proud to say that I'm not getting better, but rather becoming more content with how awful I am at "shaking it". Though I would probably do anything to have Rico's swagger, his sculpted butt and strange ability to control individual leg, shoulder and ass muscles, It will be a progression characterized by humility and barely-contained laughter.
Tomorrow I leave for Muscat, Oman for a week. Spring Break 2011! I will not have internet access till late next Wednesday (16th).
Hopefully I will get my money, my dancing dignity, and my phone back.
Insha'Allah
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