Lessons during finals week

Sunday, December 19th.  I fly home in five days.  Wasn't my last post about the items I forgot to pack?

I had my Arabic post-test today to gauge how much Arabic I've learned since I've been here. I have learned so much, and even some Arabic on top of that.

Friday I had lunch at a friend's house. I met his four brothers and some relatives, as per usual.  They served me sacchan: a plate piled high with Arabic flat bread 18" wide and grilled with spices, olive oil, roasted almonds and onions, topped with seasoned chicken.  I was eating too slowly for them to wait to fill my plate with a different dish of rice and chicken, so they made another plate for me.  My friend smiled at me and whispered, "You know you have to finish it all."  The family was so sweet, smiling and talking in Arabic and English while they watched me eat... they were long done by the time I started on the plate of rice.  It felt like Thanksgiving, except now I was eating alone and with an audience.  Lesson #1: hospitality is very important.  Not only are you graciously welcomed into the home, you are treated as family.  And you are fed... a lot. 

After lunch, we talked over chai about American verses Arabic culture, and of course - politics.  Lesson #2: Jordanians, Muslims, Arabs - they are eager to tell me that they are much different from the image portrayed in American media.  They want me to know that they don't have red horns.  They want me to know that they are people.  It is very important to them that I understand this.  Understandably so. 

When the sun was just about to set, we went for a walk in the neighborhood.  We passed an enclosed tent with a line of women in fashionable hijaba garb waiting to enter.  There was music coming from the tent, older women expressed their excitement in loud trills, and the sides of the tent shook from dancing.  The wedding celebration for the women.

Up a ways, we passed another tent where the men were.  It was three sided, opened to passerbys.  All the men were seated.  There was no music and only quiet conversations between the men.  My friend explained that this was the official engagement ceremony.  The women don't need to be present, the bride already knows she is engaged.  But here, the men are sealing the engagement, they are shaking hands, and drinking Arabic coffee.

We stopped walking when the houses ended and the valley opened up below us.  We stood on a ledge, looking out across the valleys and hills of Amman and watched as the sun set over the furthest jebal and the lights turned on little by little.  This is my favorite place in Amman.  Maybe one of my favorite places in the world.  I am not alone: the road along this ledge is lined with parked cars and cabs.  They sit there with their friend, brother, or lover, sipping Nescafe and watching the sky change and the valley light up.

Lesson #3: Jordanians value time spent sitting. Sitting together, always together.

Biblical/Political Jordan

 Decided to hit all the spots in Jordan where our heroes of the Bible visited - thankfully, my program already had the trip planned.

First stop: the Jordan River.  Originally something like 300 feet wide, today there are parts that I can leap over.  This particular spot, where Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist, is about 25 feet wide.  Some gross percentage of the river is being diverted for irrigation - handily blamed on Israel, but Syria plays a large role in taking its water as well. Jordan is the last to take from it, a small 5% or so in comparison to its neighbors.

 After visiting the baptismal sight (which didn't move me spiritually/emotionally - I guess you have to psych yourself up to it, or not surround yourself by 20 year-old IR students snapping pictures and bemoaning the politics of the place), we went to Mt. Nebo.  This is where God allowed Moses to view the Promise Land, but not enter.  That is it behind us: the Promise Land, today known as the West Bank, Israel or Occupied Palestine, depending on who you ask.  (Are you catching on? Politics overwhelms religion.)

 To the right, you can see part of the ancient mosaic map of the Middle East that stretches out over the floor of St. George's Church in Madaba.  This map, completed in the early centuries after Jesus (something around 400 or 500 AD), was used for the sake of guiding Christian pilgrims to the holy places.  In this picture you can see the Dead Sea with the Jordan River flowing into it on the left.  The people in the boat are unrecognizable because it was at the time when saints were not depicted so as not to tempt people to worship the image.

 The remaining pictures are from a mountain by the Dead Sea, home to Herod's palace where John the Baptist was beheaded.  That is the mountain there, on the left, and if you look closely, you can see the ruins on the top.  This was my favorite part of the trip.  Hiking up to the top, then sitting there with the breeze whipping our hair around and watching the sun sink behind the mountains of the West Bank with its reflection forming a glowing bridge over the Dead Sea.  It was quiet, peaceful.  Though I didn't feel awed at being in the place where John the Baptist breathed his last, I did feel the presence of a Creator.

A Traveler's Dilemma

It's raining at last.  November is when the "rains" are supposed to start, but it was a dry month.  Jordan is desperately in need of some rain.  All the new developments have wells to catch any rainwater.  We pray for rain, and then thank God for rain when it eventually comes.

These days, conversations in the program mostly consist of holiday plans, how wonderful Christmas will be in the States, and so on.  Some Jordanian friends have told me they would love to someday experience Christmas in America.  I tell them they should.  And then they look at me like I am silly, and say, "It's almost impossible to get a visa."  

Why? Quite simply - and the embassy does not even try to sugar coat the reasons - because they are twenty something unmarried men, without children, and are originally Palestinian.  It's not just the U.S. of course that has major restrictions on visa applicants.  My friend was requested by a Norwegian international music festival to come and play the oud (classical Middle Eastern instrument) and teach it to music students.  Norway wouldn't let him in, even after the festival appealed three times.  

I understand why there are these restrictions.  Of course I do.  But it's hard having this freedom to travel to most countries and knowing people just like me who want to study elsewhere and to see the world, but can't because they were born in a land that is seen as a threat. It is next to impossible for them to travel to the Western world.  They have to be punished for acts of terrorism that they themselves condemn. 

But what else can America do, or any other western nation?  A child's cry of "it's not fair," is unproductive.