Happy Easter!
Easter was not eventful but it was not eventless either. Sidenote: I think I am getting jaded to the Mid-East abroad experience. I am oddly used to...
-passing sheep on my way to school
-the call to prayer disturbing the silence
-Celine Dion
-loud noises and loud people
-cats replacing squirrels
-trees mid-sidewalk
-taking sparse showers
-not flushing toilet paper
-the absence of ice
-bathrooms with no toilet paper
-having to pay out the nose for a water bottle
-getting honked at for questionable reasons
-configuring European outlets to fit the 2-pronged Middle East plugs
-my host family
-taking an average of 4 taxi's a day
-TV blaring
-guttural wavering arab music
-modest clothing
-tea/coffee as a way of life
-seeing skinned lamb's bodies in shop windows
...being a stranger in a strange land has lost its strangeness
This jadedness is the prime cause of me not updating my blog. That and the looming research paper which constantly demands my attention like a small child (my paper's development stage is directly comparable to a 2 yr old right now).
Easter in Amman began with church and ended with Fuddruckers (as every Easter should?). Our Jordanian friend who we met at the gym, picked Smiller, Sidney, Ginny and I up at Safeway and drove us to his friend's Catholic church. Because it was entirely in arabic with a couple broken "Ameeen's" and lot's of "halleelujah", I allowed my mind to wander. I thought about why I was there-and concluded that I didn't have a concrete reason...
"Anyone who thinks sitting in church can make you a Christian must also think that sitting in a garage can make you a car." -Garrison Keillor
....this may be the reason except that it was a Catholic church...But it did make me feel at home in the weird way that eating cheddar cheese does here. Here's the experience in short:
-stained-glass windows with squiggly Latin
-no programs, everyone had memorized the appropriate responses.
-so many people that we had to stand at the back like the strangers we were
-more bare knees in one place than I have seen since the marathon
-lots of crossing oneself and genuflecting which I did not participate in
-no sermon...as far as I could tell
-the "greet your neighbor" part was filled with "salaam"s.
My concentration was broken by the presence of two out-of-place figures directly in my line of vision. The two women in front of us had dyed bleach blond hair (one of them had extensions). They both had high heels, smelled like a field of cherry blossoms, and were dressed like expensive prostitutes. The shorter one on the left wore a short mink coat and leopard leggings culminating in suede black heels. The one on the left wore a leather jacket and a short skirt. She had tatooed-on bracelets, one bearing a cross. My first thought was "these are the Russian prostitutes that people confuse us for sometimes". And so I got my dose of holy symbolism. Temptation of immorality literally stood between me and the word of God, which the Priest man spouted from the pulpit. Hahaha if only I was both Catholic, and believed in such symbolism. The service lasted 50 minutes, we filed out, bid goodbye to Hanna and filed back into our Jordanian friend's car with the intention of pursuing food. Did I mention that he just passed his driving test the day before? And he was driving his father's company car? Well, it made things interesting, but he was an impressively good driver. And this city made of traffic circles, and full of people who refuse to wait in lines, who love making loud noises, who deal with car accidents with handshakes and bribes, whose cars are only status symbols, and who don't respect pedestrians is not conducive to new drivers. So when He asked me if I wanted to drive...I was naturally extremely excited for the challenge but nervous at the same time.
His father works in the Medical supply business. His company car is a 1984 Mercedes, a status symbol back in its day when King Hussein drove the same car.
Considering I had not driven a sedan since my own driving test 4 years ago, I had not driven a car in nearly 4 months and I had never driven a car older than me, it was bound to be an adventure.
First of all, the car was in incredible shape, automatic transmission, functioning AC, lot's of leg room like Lauryn's Buick granny van in the old days, sun roof, quiet engine, hella dignity. Let's just say that El Hob would be jealous.
It drove smoothly, and did not struggle on the hills of Amman. I was conscious that what I was doing was technically illegal but with the wind in my hair, the sun on my head and with a car full of people I love, I was livin' me some serious life. I remember declaring that I was blessed that there were no squirrels in Amman, I remember emitting a high pitched noise as we swirled around the traffic circles, and I remember doing a little behind-the-wheel dance of success. My Jordanian friend taught me some bad words to yell at drivers who cut me off and I was all over that (but I wont repeat these things here). Something about asses and people covered in poop. The joy ride ended but the joy did not. At SIT, SMiller and I took a break, using "holiday" as a justification to sit on the couch and watch The Land Before Time and Hook. Ironically both Speilburg movies with incredible soundtracks. Finalmente, we departed to Fuddruckers on a whim where discussed the validity and entertainment value of vampires.
Later that night, I was vid chatting with my mother, wishing that I could smell the ham cooking in the kitchen at Home and watching my brother search for his easter basket when I got my own Easter surprise. My host sister Reem brought me a brown hard-boiled egg painted like a bunny with taped-on paper ears! It makes me smile.
I am so busy being "busy" lately. Busy chilling, busy interviewing, busy sleeping, busy writing. Insha'allah I will get to interview a Prince!!! Prince Ghazi bin Mohammad! He prompted the construction of the first Islamic University in Jordan. He is also the personal envy and Special adviser to the King. Bahhhh!
Today I am interviewing a popular Imam named Abu Musa.
Life is good.
Easter was not eventful but it was not eventless either. Sidenote: I think I am getting jaded to the Mid-East abroad experience. I am oddly used to...
-passing sheep on my way to school
-the call to prayer disturbing the silence
-Celine Dion
-loud noises and loud people
-cats replacing squirrels
-trees mid-sidewalk
-taking sparse showers
-not flushing toilet paper
-the absence of ice
-bathrooms with no toilet paper
-having to pay out the nose for a water bottle
-getting honked at for questionable reasons
-configuring European outlets to fit the 2-pronged Middle East plugs
-my host family
-taking an average of 4 taxi's a day
-TV blaring
-guttural wavering arab music
-modest clothing
-tea/coffee as a way of life
-seeing skinned lamb's bodies in shop windows
...being a stranger in a strange land has lost its strangeness
This jadedness is the prime cause of me not updating my blog. That and the looming research paper which constantly demands my attention like a small child (my paper's development stage is directly comparable to a 2 yr old right now).
Easter in Amman began with church and ended with Fuddruckers (as every Easter should?). Our Jordanian friend who we met at the gym, picked Smiller, Sidney, Ginny and I up at Safeway and drove us to his friend's Catholic church. Because it was entirely in arabic with a couple broken "Ameeen's" and lot's of "halleelujah", I allowed my mind to wander. I thought about why I was there-and concluded that I didn't have a concrete reason...
"Anyone who thinks sitting in church can make you a Christian must also think that sitting in a garage can make you a car." -Garrison Keillor
....this may be the reason except that it was a Catholic church...But it did make me feel at home in the weird way that eating cheddar cheese does here. Here's the experience in short:
-stained-glass windows with squiggly Latin
-no programs, everyone had memorized the appropriate responses.
-so many people that we had to stand at the back like the strangers we were
-more bare knees in one place than I have seen since the marathon
-lots of crossing oneself and genuflecting which I did not participate in
-no sermon...as far as I could tell
-the "greet your neighbor" part was filled with "salaam"s.
My concentration was broken by the presence of two out-of-place figures directly in my line of vision. The two women in front of us had dyed bleach blond hair (one of them had extensions). They both had high heels, smelled like a field of cherry blossoms, and were dressed like expensive prostitutes. The shorter one on the left wore a short mink coat and leopard leggings culminating in suede black heels. The one on the left wore a leather jacket and a short skirt. She had tatooed-on bracelets, one bearing a cross. My first thought was "these are the Russian prostitutes that people confuse us for sometimes". And so I got my dose of holy symbolism. Temptation of immorality literally stood between me and the word of God, which the Priest man spouted from the pulpit. Hahaha if only I was both Catholic, and believed in such symbolism. The service lasted 50 minutes, we filed out, bid goodbye to Hanna and filed back into our Jordanian friend's car with the intention of pursuing food. Did I mention that he just passed his driving test the day before? And he was driving his father's company car? Well, it made things interesting, but he was an impressively good driver. And this city made of traffic circles, and full of people who refuse to wait in lines, who love making loud noises, who deal with car accidents with handshakes and bribes, whose cars are only status symbols, and who don't respect pedestrians is not conducive to new drivers. So when He asked me if I wanted to drive...I was naturally extremely excited for the challenge but nervous at the same time.
His father works in the Medical supply business. His company car is a 1984 Mercedes, a status symbol back in its day when King Hussein drove the same car.
Considering I had not driven a sedan since my own driving test 4 years ago, I had not driven a car in nearly 4 months and I had never driven a car older than me, it was bound to be an adventure.
First of all, the car was in incredible shape, automatic transmission, functioning AC, lot's of leg room like Lauryn's Buick granny van in the old days, sun roof, quiet engine, hella dignity. Let's just say that El Hob would be jealous.
It drove smoothly, and did not struggle on the hills of Amman. I was conscious that what I was doing was technically illegal but with the wind in my hair, the sun on my head and with a car full of people I love, I was livin' me some serious life. I remember declaring that I was blessed that there were no squirrels in Amman, I remember emitting a high pitched noise as we swirled around the traffic circles, and I remember doing a little behind-the-wheel dance of success. My Jordanian friend taught me some bad words to yell at drivers who cut me off and I was all over that (but I wont repeat these things here). Something about asses and people covered in poop. The joy ride ended but the joy did not. At SIT, SMiller and I took a break, using "holiday" as a justification to sit on the couch and watch The Land Before Time and Hook. Ironically both Speilburg movies with incredible soundtracks. Finalmente, we departed to Fuddruckers on a whim where discussed the validity and entertainment value of vampires.
Later that night, I was vid chatting with my mother, wishing that I could smell the ham cooking in the kitchen at Home and watching my brother search for his easter basket when I got my own Easter surprise. My host sister Reem brought me a brown hard-boiled egg painted like a bunny with taped-on paper ears! It makes me smile.
I am so busy being "busy" lately. Busy chilling, busy interviewing, busy sleeping, busy writing. Insha'allah I will get to interview a Prince!!! Prince Ghazi bin Mohammad! He prompted the construction of the first Islamic University in Jordan. He is also the personal envy and Special adviser to the King. Bahhhh!
Today I am interviewing a popular Imam named Abu Musa.
Life is good.
Tu ne cede malis, sed contra audentior ito.
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