I turned 21 on Tuesday and it was surreal in the best way possible. My friend Biff asked me "so...tell us about some past birthday moments." I remember enthusiastic soccer practices, special bagged lunches from my mom, chuckie cheeses, and of course, Fuego Con El Hob, the cookout event I held during final week at school for the past two years for the sole purpose of getting my favorite people in the world to get together in one location with food. The joy of having all my favorite people in the same place is the best birthday present I could ever receive. Therefore, I had the most incredible birthday (spread out over two days because of presentations). My shway Jordanian boyfriend, SMiller, and my other close friends went to Mejana (my favorite restaurant) where they surprised me with a chocolate ice cream cake complete with two flaming fire sticks and a sugar slab printed with "happy birthday toufaha" (happy birthday apple!). He calls me toufaha because I had such difficulty pronouncing the singular of Toufeh when I was yelling at him to give me my apple back one time. In total, I got sang to 4 times and I was able to spend time with everyone I care about on this side of the Jordan River. Couldn't have asked for more.
1) pre-ISP presentation thanks to prompting by Anna. Glorious harmony btw (Anna and Dropeck).
2) at Mejana by the waiters and my closest friends here.
3) by my host family over sprite infused chocolate cake with my real mom on a skype call. I have never felt so special. I LOVE my Jordanian host family. They sang in english and then in arabic: sana halwa ya gamiir!
4) at Abu Khalil Chinese Restaurant the next day with all of SIT Tribe. Thanks guys ;)
Still haven't had a birthday drink though..cough cough can't wait for Europe!
Remember when I said "I've gave up being a perfectionist," well, that was a complete lie. In retrospect, I definitely returned to my perfectionist tendencies for ISP period which culminated in my designing a Prezi (beefed up PPT) presentation with a script. The prezi featured a clip from LOTR (as all anne-made presentations should), multiple representations of Celine Dion, and a shout out to Hans Zimmer. I even went over the proposed time limit, like a BOSS. I'm sure that my sponto-perfectionism was the result of regression to a time (high school) where life was less chaotic. Other ways I regressed included my clothing--I mostly dressed like a man with baggy pants and T-shirts--but that could have been a product of the conservative environment. This perfectionism wont last because overall, it is not practical. One way in which my perfectionism did not fully manifest was my use of Arabic: I reached a new comfort level trying and failing words and phrases.
Now, the struggle is over, the 48-pg ISP is done and I have thrown my burden in the fires from whence it came. I don't remember the taste of strawberries, or what it feels like to be barefoot in the grass of Hobbiton, or even what nature smells like, but now SMiller and I are done (all energy expended in the name of study abroad) and we are awaiting the Eagles to carry us away to be welcomed again in a more familiar land. And the Eagles are coming at 7:10 am tomorrow morning in Queen Alia International Airport Insha'allah. Though side note: if I get to the airport tomorrow, go up to the desk to confirm that the plane is coming and they say "Insha'Allah!" I am going to implode. Insha'Allah (God Willing) is a versatile phrase, I agree. And I do appreciate the versatility of many Arabic words like Shway and Mumkin, but Insha'Allah should not be used to describe things that should be considered certain like for example.....To a cab driver : "Khodnee 3la Safareh Britaniya" (take me to the British embassy) His response "Insha'Allah".... uh what?? are we actually ever going to get there? I don't know, and it's not in the hands of God, it's clearly within the capability and hands of the cab driver himself. MEHHH. #StrugglesJO
Now to comment on the lack of resolution of my identity crisis which led to some serious productive self-actualization. Seriously, Maslow would be proud.
Ways in which I am a Jordanian
-Nescafe
-Love/obsession with camels
-Content with rationing water usage
-obsession with soccer
-an appreciation for cheap taxi rides
Ways in which I am not
-Love of sharp cheddar cheese
-I hate TV
-I value the tanness of my skin
-Pursuit of self-actualization
Sidenote: the word America pronounced "AMERRRica" in Anne has been our go-to to fill blank space in conversations or on long walks down Demashq street. This word needs no context or explanation.
WHAT AM I? WHO AM I? An end to this identity crisis?
55% American (freedom and liberty are great values to build a country on)
20% Cuban (I am in love with the spirit of la gente allí, I also love with the culture and language)
10% Hobbit (LOTR obsession (almost religion) and my last name)
10% Turtle (Addiction, the color green, introspective nature and appreciation with fresh green food and water, as well as resemblance in looks?)
5% Jordanian (hospitality, love of hummas, gah'wa and headgear)
Now to answer some questions before they are asked of me:
Have you changed?
Yes, I suppose. I am more conscious of my gender. I am more cynical about the innate goodness of people because of the percentage of strange men cat-calling me, staring, or otherwise robing me of my dignity or my phone. I am more open-minded in regards to the Jordanian culture of interdependence, family and Islam. I am motivated by a desire to fix people's opinions of that culture, because I know there are many Americans who have sharp generalizations about the Middle East and Muslims.
Would you go back?
I would return because I do have a complete "life" here with a family I can visit, Jordanian friends, a gym, a group to play soccer with, favorite restaurants and academic duties. I would have to live in my own place with a kitchen though so I could solidify a routine and control more of the factors in my life.
What was your favorite part?
My favorite site was Jerash, this of course was skewed I'm sure by events that happened in Petra and the aftereffects of food poisoning in Wadi Rum. I visited Jerash on a beautiful sunny day. The site is such that it is not popular enough that tourists are overwhelming, but not so unpopulated that they don't have scheduled events like the traditional chariot race in one of the most well preserved Hippodromes. The hills were bright green, the ruins invited me to climb them. I wondered on my own into the hills of my own thoughts and felt safe among the long grasses. I enjoyed a few private moments Sound-of-Music style before rejoining the group. I also felt like I had jumped back into "Ecce Romani," my high school Latin textbook, with Claudia and Uncle Titus and 5 miserable (though now so distanced from my current life that I remember them fondly) verb declensions.
Now, I have to address my emotional response to this question. One factor has defined my past Month and a half here in Jordan. I know the frequency and length of my blogs has sputtered out in the last 1/3 of my study abroad experience, and know now that it is mostly due to this. My favorite part of Jordan was not a location, or even a moment. It was a person (whose name will not be displayed for internet publicity reasons) He is my shway (sort of) Jordanian boyfriend (shway because of the expiration date on our time together, the sensitivity of the culture about dating and Islam, and because it is hard to DTR (define the relationship) comprehensively across a language gap). I met him in the gym when I approached the front desk to ask how to get to the Sheraton hotel in search of a Cuban cigar. He drew me a map and filled in the traffic circles with smiley faces. My first reaction to his presence was "this man does not look Arab, and he smiles a lot." He's actually supremely touchy about the first subject. He knows he does not look Arab, and yet he represents Jordan regularly at International Jui-jitsu competitions. His mother is French and he has a French passport. As SMiller commented post- Wadi Mujib sunburn, "he got more of the French genes than the Arab ones." When we took cabs together, we'd play a game to see how long the cab driver could mistake him for American before he would spout Arabic, shocking the cab driver and amusing SMiller and I in the back seat. Time spent with him was filled with games, laughter and comfort. He was our Amman tour guide/chauffeur/ and security guard. We have a very similar sense of humor, and both of us value sports as an outlet for life frustrations. He and I organized a trip to Wadi Mujib where we brought our groups of friends together. We also organized 5 pick-up soccer games where in we were both rivals, and heartfelt teammates. He, SMiller and I quickly became a team. He drove us around in a 1984 Mercedes, called "debabeh" which means tank in Arabic. With him, I felt safe. Lastly, he taught me Arabic expletives and how to do humiliating arm workouts. I trust him more than anyone in this country, especially after one specific event:
At Wadi Mujib, post-bike ride and waterfall trek, us Americans and Jordanians were sitting interspersed along the edge of the cliff overlooking the sun setting over the dead sea. Shway Jordanian boyfriend was sitting about 5 feet in front of me. I noticed a skinny, tall, Jordanian man smoking a cigarette directly to the left of the last American. Upon further scrutiny, I realized he was doing the creepy stare we get a lot here (the one where they undress you with their eyes) so I got Shway boyfriend's attention and pointed him out. Shway boyfriend first called the creeper out, and when he didn't stop, Shway boyfriend rallied his fellow jiu-jitsu team and rolled over there. The creeper and his friends backed off and left in their car not ten minutes later. For those of us paying attention, it was the most glorious moment we have had abroad. For once, Jordanian men defended our honor and confronted the creepier norm of other Jordanian men. I later thanked shway boyfriend and he didn't understand why I was thanking him. I explained how no one has stood up for us, and how we haven't been able to stand up for ourselves in the face of such obvious sexual harassment. He expressed shame in the fact that so many Jordanians think that it is okay to disrespect women in public. I will never forget how safe and respected he made me feel. His friends, also incredible people, became instrumental and influential in my time here. I felt like I finally had an "in" to the culture, and it put me at ease. I feel like I had a very different experience from many of the other SIT Tribe members because of my last month here, which was spent primarily with Shway boyfriend and SMiller. I am so lucky to have met him, because he completed my life abroad such that I feel comfortable enough to return here for an extended period of time to be determined. Fulbright mumkin?
How was Jordan?
Tamam! Quwais! Bikheir! Mumtaz! Rosy retrospection has already set in, and I have no doubt that these moments constitute "the time of my life." To what degree, I can not tell now. I hope to be able to fully comprehend the impact it has had on myself once I get back into a routine in Baltimore.
With that,
I start my Euro-journey with Tim (friend from the program) and Lauryn (my facebook wife slash best friend from home):
Ma'asalaameh al-Ordon!
1) pre-ISP presentation thanks to prompting by Anna. Glorious harmony btw (Anna and Dropeck).
2) at Mejana by the waiters and my closest friends here.
3) by my host family over sprite infused chocolate cake with my real mom on a skype call. I have never felt so special. I LOVE my Jordanian host family. They sang in english and then in arabic: sana halwa ya gamiir!
4) at Abu Khalil Chinese Restaurant the next day with all of SIT Tribe. Thanks guys ;)
Remember when I said "I've gave up being a perfectionist," well, that was a complete lie. In retrospect, I definitely returned to my perfectionist tendencies for ISP period which culminated in my designing a Prezi (beefed up PPT) presentation with a script. The prezi featured a clip from LOTR (as all anne-made presentations should), multiple representations of Celine Dion, and a shout out to Hans Zimmer. I even went over the proposed time limit, like a BOSS. I'm sure that my sponto-perfectionism was the result of regression to a time (high school) where life was less chaotic. Other ways I regressed included my clothing--I mostly dressed like a man with baggy pants and T-shirts--but that could have been a product of the conservative environment. This perfectionism wont last because overall, it is not practical. One way in which my perfectionism did not fully manifest was my use of Arabic: I reached a new comfort level trying and failing words and phrases.
Now, the struggle is over, the 48-pg ISP is done and I have thrown my burden in the fires from whence it came. I don't remember the taste of strawberries, or what it feels like to be barefoot in the grass of Hobbiton, or even what nature smells like, but now SMiller and I are done (all energy expended in the name of study abroad) and we are awaiting the Eagles to carry us away to be welcomed again in a more familiar land. And the Eagles are coming at 7:10 am tomorrow morning in Queen Alia International Airport Insha'allah. Though side note: if I get to the airport tomorrow, go up to the desk to confirm that the plane is coming and they say "Insha'Allah!" I am going to implode. Insha'Allah (God Willing) is a versatile phrase, I agree. And I do appreciate the versatility of many Arabic words like Shway and Mumkin, but Insha'Allah should not be used to describe things that should be considered certain like for example.....To a cab driver : "Khodnee 3la Safareh Britaniya" (take me to the British embassy) His response "Insha'Allah".... uh what?? are we actually ever going to get there? I don't know, and it's not in the hands of God, it's clearly within the capability and hands of the cab driver himself. MEHHH. #StrugglesJO
Now to comment on the lack of resolution of my identity crisis which led to some serious productive self-actualization. Seriously, Maslow would be proud.
Ways in which I am a Jordanian
-Nescafe
-Love/obsession with camels
-Content with rationing water usage
-obsession with soccer
-an appreciation for cheap taxi rides
Ways in which I am not
-Love of sharp cheddar cheese
-I hate TV
-I value the tanness of my skin
-Pursuit of self-actualization
Sidenote: the word America pronounced "AMERRRica" in Anne has been our go-to to fill blank space in conversations or on long walks down Demashq street. This word needs no context or explanation.
WHAT AM I? WHO AM I? An end to this identity crisis?
55% American (freedom and liberty are great values to build a country on)
20% Cuban (I am in love with the spirit of la gente allí, I also love with the culture and language)
10% Hobbit (LOTR obsession (almost religion) and my last name)
10% Turtle (Addiction, the color green, introspective nature and appreciation with fresh green food and water, as well as resemblance in looks?)
5% Jordanian (hospitality, love of hummas, gah'wa and headgear)
Now to answer some questions before they are asked of me:
Have you changed?
Yes, I suppose. I am more conscious of my gender. I am more cynical about the innate goodness of people because of the percentage of strange men cat-calling me, staring, or otherwise robing me of my dignity or my phone. I am more open-minded in regards to the Jordanian culture of interdependence, family and Islam. I am motivated by a desire to fix people's opinions of that culture, because I know there are many Americans who have sharp generalizations about the Middle East and Muslims.
Would you go back?
I would return because I do have a complete "life" here with a family I can visit, Jordanian friends, a gym, a group to play soccer with, favorite restaurants and academic duties. I would have to live in my own place with a kitchen though so I could solidify a routine and control more of the factors in my life.
What was your favorite part?
My favorite site was Jerash, this of course was skewed I'm sure by events that happened in Petra and the aftereffects of food poisoning in Wadi Rum. I visited Jerash on a beautiful sunny day. The site is such that it is not popular enough that tourists are overwhelming, but not so unpopulated that they don't have scheduled events like the traditional chariot race in one of the most well preserved Hippodromes. The hills were bright green, the ruins invited me to climb them. I wondered on my own into the hills of my own thoughts and felt safe among the long grasses. I enjoyed a few private moments Sound-of-Music style before rejoining the group. I also felt like I had jumped back into "Ecce Romani," my high school Latin textbook, with Claudia and Uncle Titus and 5 miserable (though now so distanced from my current life that I remember them fondly) verb declensions.
Now, I have to address my emotional response to this question. One factor has defined my past Month and a half here in Jordan. I know the frequency and length of my blogs has sputtered out in the last 1/3 of my study abroad experience, and know now that it is mostly due to this. My favorite part of Jordan was not a location, or even a moment. It was a person (whose name will not be displayed for internet publicity reasons) He is my shway (sort of) Jordanian boyfriend (shway because of the expiration date on our time together, the sensitivity of the culture about dating and Islam, and because it is hard to DTR (define the relationship) comprehensively across a language gap). I met him in the gym when I approached the front desk to ask how to get to the Sheraton hotel in search of a Cuban cigar. He drew me a map and filled in the traffic circles with smiley faces. My first reaction to his presence was "this man does not look Arab, and he smiles a lot." He's actually supremely touchy about the first subject. He knows he does not look Arab, and yet he represents Jordan regularly at International Jui-jitsu competitions. His mother is French and he has a French passport. As SMiller commented post- Wadi Mujib sunburn, "he got more of the French genes than the Arab ones." When we took cabs together, we'd play a game to see how long the cab driver could mistake him for American before he would spout Arabic, shocking the cab driver and amusing SMiller and I in the back seat. Time spent with him was filled with games, laughter and comfort. He was our Amman tour guide/chauffeur/ and security guard. We have a very similar sense of humor, and both of us value sports as an outlet for life frustrations. He and I organized a trip to Wadi Mujib where we brought our groups of friends together. We also organized 5 pick-up soccer games where in we were both rivals, and heartfelt teammates. He, SMiller and I quickly became a team. He drove us around in a 1984 Mercedes, called "debabeh" which means tank in Arabic. With him, I felt safe. Lastly, he taught me Arabic expletives and how to do humiliating arm workouts. I trust him more than anyone in this country, especially after one specific event:
At Wadi Mujib, post-bike ride and waterfall trek, us Americans and Jordanians were sitting interspersed along the edge of the cliff overlooking the sun setting over the dead sea. Shway Jordanian boyfriend was sitting about 5 feet in front of me. I noticed a skinny, tall, Jordanian man smoking a cigarette directly to the left of the last American. Upon further scrutiny, I realized he was doing the creepy stare we get a lot here (the one where they undress you with their eyes) so I got Shway boyfriend's attention and pointed him out. Shway boyfriend first called the creeper out, and when he didn't stop, Shway boyfriend rallied his fellow jiu-jitsu team and rolled over there. The creeper and his friends backed off and left in their car not ten minutes later. For those of us paying attention, it was the most glorious moment we have had abroad. For once, Jordanian men defended our honor and confronted the creepier norm of other Jordanian men. I later thanked shway boyfriend and he didn't understand why I was thanking him. I explained how no one has stood up for us, and how we haven't been able to stand up for ourselves in the face of such obvious sexual harassment. He expressed shame in the fact that so many Jordanians think that it is okay to disrespect women in public. I will never forget how safe and respected he made me feel. His friends, also incredible people, became instrumental and influential in my time here. I felt like I finally had an "in" to the culture, and it put me at ease. I feel like I had a very different experience from many of the other SIT Tribe members because of my last month here, which was spent primarily with Shway boyfriend and SMiller. I am so lucky to have met him, because he completed my life abroad such that I feel comfortable enough to return here for an extended period of time to be determined. Fulbright mumkin?
How was Jordan?
Tamam! Quwais! Bikheir! Mumtaz! Rosy retrospection has already set in, and I have no doubt that these moments constitute "the time of my life." To what degree, I can not tell now. I hope to be able to fully comprehend the impact it has had on myself once I get back into a routine in Baltimore.
With that,
I start my Euro-journey with Tim (friend from the program) and Lauryn (my facebook wife slash best friend from home):
1) France.
May 15-18 Paris
May 18-19: Night train to Rome TGV 7:42pm arrives 6:45 rome, station change in Milano Centrale 2:50 (gets in) train leaves at 3:15am
2) Rome
May 19-20th Rome
May 21: Pompeii day trip-> Florence
May 15-18 Paris
May 18-19: Night train to Rome TGV 7:42pm arrives 6:45 rome, station change in Milano Centrale 2:50 (gets in) train leaves at 3:15am
2) Rome
May 19-20th Rome
May 21: Pompeii day trip-> Florence
May 22: Florence
May 23: Travel day to Munich Florence Firenze station 11am to 6:25 pm Munchen Hbf
3) Munich
May 23-26
May 26: Travel Day 7:23 am to 3:25 pm Amsterdam Centraal
4) Amsterdam
May 26: Check into the Flying Pig
May 27: World's largest Cheese Market/ Walk the canals
May 28: 6:15 am train gets in at 9:35 am to Paris Nord via Belgium
May 23: Travel day to Munich Florence Firenze station 11am to 6:25 pm Munchen Hbf
3) Munich
May 23-26
May 26: Travel Day 7:23 am to 3:25 pm Amsterdam Centraal
4) Amsterdam
May 26: Check into the Flying Pig
May 27: World's largest Cheese Market/ Walk the canals
May 28: 6:15 am train gets in at 9:35 am to Paris Nord via Belgium
5) Paris
May 28: Breakfast, Notre Dame
May 29: Assorted France
May 30th depart for NY then Baltimore
4 countries, 6 travel days, 3 people, 1 world.
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