Night 108: Things I Will Miss and Things I Distinctly Won't

When I left the U.S. for Jordan three and a half months ago, I wasn't entirely convinced that this day would ever come. I was scared and nervous and excited and I just couldn't envision what coming home after being away for 108 nights would be like. It still feels weird. I still feel like tomorrow I'll wake up in my bed on Jadaat Shashaa Street and grab some bread for breakfast, head to the University to get my morning Nescafe from my Nescafe guy and maybe a candy bar, go over to Arabic and whine at Sarah about how hard it is, spend my afternoon in TAGKS and go home and watch a movie with Lara and Janet. But no. This time tomorrow I will be on a plane only a few hours away from Chicago and Sam which is SO MUCH better, but SO VERY WEIRD. So, here's what will likely be my very last post on this blog, about what I will miss about Jordan and what I very distinctly won't. And maybe some of what I've learned and all that sappy stuff along the way.

First off, stuff I won't miss because I've found that it's better to start off negative and end on a positive note rather than the other way around:

1. Catcalling boys/نسونجي. Asshole man boys. I've blogged enough about them, so I'll hallas (stop) with that.
2. Traffic. Loud honking noises for no reason.
3. Dirtiness/smog/dust/cigarette smoke. Smoke in general. I am so excited to go to a country where you can't smoke inside.
4. The immaturity. People here aren't treated as adults until they're married. And it's not like Jordanians are super conservative, traditional Muslims who get married at sixteen or seventeen. Twenty is considered too young to get married--you're kinda old if you're getting married at 30, but anywhere between 25 and 30 is pretty normal here, so not too different from the States. That means that 20 year olds are living with their parents, getting allowances from their parents, living by the rules of their parents, etc. They don't even get jobs until they've graduated from University--not even little part-time cashier jobs. This means that anyone not married is treated as though they're sixteen. Including the foreigners. Maybe especially the foreigners. Which is weird and frustrating for someone used to a lot more independence. Sure, over the summers I live with my parents, but if I want to stay out until 3AM I can. I don't, but I could if I wanted to. If I want to eat, I can eat what I want when I want. I miss that SO MUCH, guys. I want to go home where I can take a shower without asking for permission first.
5. Arabic. I miss English, Arabic is hard.

Okay, things I will miss:

1. Arabic. Yeah, yeah, I know I said I wouldn't but I changed my mind. Sort of. I won't miss the intensity of Arabic here--having to use it every day, the 12 hour a week Arabic classes, etc. But I will miss using it with my friend in a casual way, using a word I forgot I knew with a cab driver, and entertaining myself on long car/bus rides by trying to read the signs out the window.
2. People. I wrote a little bit about this in my last post, but I'll miss my American friends so much. It's weird that I won't see them every day ever again. I may never see any of them again. It scares me and makes me sad. Although, if the Republicans win the next election, Hannah and I are moving to Istanbul, so that works.
3. Speaking of Istanbul, I will miss the proximity to Istanbul. And other countries that are nearby. If Syria were in a better state I would like to have liked to have visited Syria.
4. Nescafe. I thought I hated it but I don't. I'll also miss my Nescafe guy; the guy that knows I want my Nescafe in the morning and I don't even have to ask.
5. Wassam the Falafel Man. Nicest man in all of Jordan.
6. Falafel.
7. All of the beautiful places. I don't know what I am going to do with my weekends at home if not traveling to amazing deserts and mountains and caves and towns and villages. I love Jordan so much, even if I really don't like a lot of Amman. Jordan though is spectacular and I could easily spend months here just traveling and seeing gorgeous places like Dana, Wadi Rum, Petra, Ajloun, Aqaba, more stuff that I haven't even seen.

This is my last blog post and I don't know how to end it 'cause I'm bad at that. I'm SO excited to go home, and I leave in a few hours, so ma'saalama (goodbye)! I'll see (most of you) when I get home!!!

Night 103: Mixed Feelings and Dabke

Holy shit, it's Night 103*! What.

I have mixed feelings about this.

On the one hand, I am SO EXCITED to go home. I'm excited for the most basic things, like English and toilet paper and macaroni and cheese. Not to mention Sam, family, Beloit... Really, I'm pretty sure that no one has any perception whatsoever of how excited I am to go home.Well, it's possible that Palestinians who live in Jordan and not in Palestine understand, but that's a different story.

On the other hand... I like parts of being here. Mostly the people. It's sort of embarrassing to admit that by people, I mean Americans that I've met here. Also Janet and Lara. I'll miss them a lot. I'll miss folks that I've met at CIEE, like Rasha and Ahmad, and even my Arabic professor, Muna. But mostly I'll miss the American students that I've met here. I have friends here that I can talk to about my PoliSci papers and not only will they understand what I'm talking about, but it's likely that one of them has written/is writing a paper on the same thing and we can share notes and procrastinate by chatting about the topic for an hour or two. I don't get that at home.

We also went through "Cultural Re-Entry" training yesterday and that made me intensely excited to go home because we talked about all of the things that we've missed the most, what the first thing we're going to do when we get back to States will be (most people said eat Mexican food). But it also made particularly clingy to my Jordan friends. We talked about what an intense experience study abroad has been and how hard it'll be going home and trying to explain that to people. The only people who get it are here and we're all going to be scattered about the world as of next week. It's scary and now my feelings are in multiple places and one time and that just makes me feel mentally nauseous.


So there have been times in the last few days when I've felt like "I'm comfy here, why do I want to go home again?"

And then a skeezy man-boy calls me "sweetie" and makes hissing noises at me and I remember. These man-boys are not outliers in Jordanian society, by the way. In fact, a majority of the un-married men that I've met in Jordan (excluding most cab drivers, but not all) cannot seem to resist catcalling women. It appears as though their actual occupation is to lounge outside of McDonald's or other establishments where they don't intend to buy anything and hit on women and make them feel uncomfortable. I really look forward to going back to the States where it is not only socially unacceptable for a man to catcall a woman, but it is perfectly socially acceptable for me to call them an asshole for doing so. More than that, the man will understand that I am calling him an asshole. It is so much less satisfying to yell at a Jordanian man-boy and call him an asshole when he has no idea what I'm saying.

But then I go home and decorate the fake plastic Christmas tree with my host family and I feel cozy and homey again. We watch Arabic Jeopardy and I bicker with Lara over where to put certain ornaments (they have about a hundred ornaments for one tiny tree and not only did Lara insist on using all of them, but all of the ornaments that look the same cannot be anywhere near each other. This was a challenge) and it's nice. But it's another one of those things that manages to make me homesick and "No, I don't wanna leave" at the same time.

Then I go out into a busy Jordanian street where people are honking unnecessarily and I almost get hit by a car a couple of times and I really miss the States.

Some other fun things have gone on in the last nearly two weeks since I last posted (wow, really, two weeks? Oops). On Wednesday night CIEE hosted a dinner for host families and students, as well as the Apartment People. Not too many Apartment People showed up because Host Family People and Apartment People don't really hang out and the Apartment People were outnumbered due to all the host families. It was a nice chance for all of us to meet our friends' host families, and there were some speeches, and dancing (we were taught dabke, a kind of Jordanian/Bedouin dance), and lots and lots of food. There was even a chocolate fountain and sticks with marshmallows on them for dipping into the fountain. It was great. I think I ate more that night than Janet and Lara have ever seen me eat before, which made me feel bad. Especially when Lara commented "you never eat that much!"

Last night I went out with my host family, including my host aunt, Linda, to فحص (Fa-Hace). It's a sort of Christmas-y town where there are more Christians than Muslims so there are lot of Christmas lights and decorations. Going to فحص consisted of driving around looking at the lights and then stopping by the various Christmas trees in town to complain about how they weren't as pretty as last year. Also, there was an area that is apparently usually covered with lights and Christmas trees and decorations, but this year was totally empty. This made my host family sad. So we went to Chili Ways where Lara had a gigantic turkey sandwich and chili fries despite the fact that she had had McDonald's for lunch. She insisted that she was going to vomit as she was eating the sandwich. There was nothing I could do to stop her. Then we tried to find Janet a new purse, but no luck. Then we went home. So فحص turned out to be less of a thing than I thought it was going to be, but mosh moshkila (no problem/no worries/hakuna matata).

Anyway. I go home in less than SIX DAYS. I have mixed feelings about it, but overall I'm excited. There are just a lot of butterflies over here in Jordan.



*Okay, so I screwed up on my numbers a little bit. Not on the title, I checked that again today and I really am here for 108 nights, but I screwed up on Night 74--or actually what should have been Night 76. I repeated a number. Oops. Maybe no one will notice. Except that means that all of my posts (all three of them...) since the screw up are incorrect. Anywho.

Night 88: We Could See Egypt from our Hostel!

Title courtesy of the ever-hilarious Elizabeth. :)

So, my last blog post was all about Stress. And what do you do when you're stressed out? Go to the beach, of course!

There was a prettier beach next to our hostel but I forgot to take a picture. 

Straight after school on Thursday the Sarahs (there are two of them), Elizabeth, and I headed for Aqaba to watch Elizabeth run in the International Red Sea Marathon. Aqaba is a beach town overlooking the Red Sea (the same sea that Moses was supposed to have parted back in Old Testament days) at the very, very southern border of Jordan. We could actually see Egypt (Africa! We could see Africa!) from our hostel. Also Saudi Arabia was just six miles down the street, and Israel was right across the way. Jordan is tiny. Nevertheless, It took us four hours by bus to get there (which was actually a relief since I had been under the impression that it would take six hours), and due to ticket complications we did not get to our hostel until close to eleven. Elizabeth had to get up at five for her marathon. I do not envy her. The rest of us got up at about eight and ate a leisurely breakfast at the hostel. Then we headed into the city to find the finish line.

Look, Egypt!

So I don't know about other people, but during most marathons and triathlons (yes that is actually how you spell that word, there is nothing between the h and the l, surprise!) that I've watched (and I've watched a few, my family likes to run), there are multiple points along the run from which spectators can cheer their friends/family on. Not so much the case in Aqaba. In fact, although most people seemed to be aware that a marathon was going on, they didn't really seem to understand what a marathon was and thus things were not very clearly marked and people were driving cars and horses and ATVs and camels through what was supposed to be the track. Also, no one really believed us when we told them our friend was running the full marathon. Apparently, most people that run the Aqaba "marathon" are either kids that run in the fun run, or people who want to get into the Western trend of running a marathon by running a 5k. We stood at the finish line for about two hours and only saw four people (including Elizabeth) that ran the full marathon. Have I mentioned that Jordanians don't like to walk or run? They don't.

Old castle ruins on the way to the finish line. 

Speaking of that finish line though, it was a major ordeal locating the finish line itself, due to the aforementioned misunderstanding of what a marathon is by Jordanians. Every person we asked, including cops, thought we were asking when the marathon ended when we asked them "Where is the finish line?" Even when we asked in Arabic. We finally found it by asking a friendly guy at a tourist information booth. The finish line was located near the giant Aqaba flag (we thought it was Palestinian at first) pole that is visible from every point within a number of miles.

The flagpole and the Sarahs. 

Elizabeth finished the marathon in about six hours, we were so proud! She got a fancy medal and everything. Also a beer from one of the Sarahs. Very important after running 26.2 miles.

Elizabeth's medal!

After much congratulations and hugging we went out to eat and then headed back to the hostel for some rest and relaxation by the pool. Sadly (or not so sadly if you're me and hate chlorine), it was too cold to swim. I meant to do homework during this time, but that did not happen. Shhhh..... Instead, after hanging out by the pool, we went out to dinner with some other friends that were also in Aqaba to celebrate a birthday. I got pasta and it was soooo tasty. We also met a South African guy that was very nice, but a little mysterious. We gathered that he was pilot of some kind working in private security in Afghanistan and Pakistan who had somehow gotten to Jordan from Dubai, even though he was supposed to be returning to Afghanistan... He was interesting. One of my favorite things about hostels is all of the interesting people you meet along the way, which is not something that really happens in hotels. To be fair, I've only ever stayed in two hostels ever, but I have absolutely loved both of them. The Mavi Guesthouse in Istanbul beats out the Bedouin Gardens in Aqaba, but the Bedouin Gardens was still lovely and really pretty.

Near our room at the Bedouin Gardens hostel. I loved all of the colors. 

Other than the marathon (which was only actually chaotic and long and tiring for Elizabeth), we had a pretty stress-free, relaxing weekend. We spent our night in the hostel eating peanut butter and cookies, drinking cheap booze (well, apple and orange vodka for me, and real booze like Guinness and port for the Sarahs) and watching Crazy Stupid Love with the amazingly not-photoshopped Ryan Gosling. Overall a very good weekend.

Cheap booze in Aqaba is cheap 'cause it's a duty-free zone. 

Aqaba was my last travel weekend of the semester--I am now out of money and out of time to do any further traveling other than going home. So from here on out y'all are likely to see a couple of blog posts about finals and Arabic and homework and my increasing excitement about going home, but probably no more camel rides, archaeological ruins, or unplanned desert trips. I have mixed feelings about this..... Anyway, another camel picture!

This camel was not as nice as Shilou.