I’ll admit,
seven months in, the charm of Jordan is wearing off. I am writing this
uncomfortably full of stuffed zucchini, stuffed grape leaves, yogurt, salad, chicken,
tea, Nescafé, and so on and so forth. I visited a family with another volunteer
who had met them on her walk to work. Kulee!
is what Jordanians say when they want you to eat, and they sure mean it. It has
been straight-up bullying in my experience. This visit was no exception, to a
lot of the things I put up with on the daily. I am always being compared to
other foreigners, past and present. I am always told I can only speak and
understand Arabic shwea (a little),
even after having a long conversation with people. (When do I attain this next
level above shwea??) Uff da. How can
people mean so well and be so generous but end up just frustrating the hell
outta ya?
I came
home from that visit reminded of how foreign I am, how unnatural it is for me,
a single young foreign woman to be living by herself in the Middle East. I
called my friend to talk when I was interrupted by a pound on the door. It was
the neighbor kid who wanted help with English homework. I help her study for a
little while and then she gave me an old magnifying glass she found, and then
gave me a big hug and said “Uhibik
katheer” (I love you a lot). The little gal made my day, so how could I
refuse when she invited me over to her house?? Another visit! I got there and of
course no one knew I was coming, her mom was just waking up from a nap. And I
asked, “You sure you want me here?” She told me sleepily to stay. We ended up shootin’
the shit and havin a few laughs. I felt so comfortable that I forgot that I was
speaking Arabic (but shwea) a million
miles away from home.
The next post will be
more informative and soon, I swear. These days I’m either busy or brain dead. Love
you and miss you.UPDATE: the neighbor kid came over today to tell me to tell her "mubruk (congratulations)" because she got a perfect score on her English quiz.
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