After all of this philosophizing, I think I should add some stories about my new life here. I have a new apartment, a new neighborhood, a new job, etc.
I now live in Shmeisani, which was the "place to be" in Amman about 30 years ago. Everyone who got in on the game then still lives here, so the population is a bit more aged to my eye. I gather that development of this area started when the Arab Bank set up its headquarters here - this is one of the most important banks in the region, and it quickly attracted other businesses, banks, and affluent house owners.
My neighborhood is charming and residential, filled with 3- to 6-story apartment buildings and houses, all the requisite white limestone of Amman. As we sit on our balcony and enjoy the night breeze, my flatmate and I can see the bustle and life of the 20 or so families whose apartments face us on the opposite side of the street.
Last week there was a wedding celebration in the building across from us, and a bunch of men dressed in embroidered vests and hats serenaded the house with drums as different family members danced in the middle of the circle. All of us neighbors came out on the balcony to watch and clap along. The head drummer was ostensibly taking such pleasure in his drumming that his powerful "THWAP"s resounded all the way down the street - I could feel them in my bones.
It turns out, after a few weeks here, that I love living in Shmeisani. This is in part because I can walk not only to the office and to my gym, but also to cafes, the supermarket, and just about everywhere I need. It's also very central in terms of getting to other places in the city. Finally, a piece of pedestrian heaven in a car-filled Amman!
When I walk to work, I pass HRH Prince Hashem's Bird Garden, one of the stranger places I've seen in Amman. This an old-time menagerie about the size of one square city block, filled with cages of chickens, turkeys, and even squirrel-like rodents. There's also a playground and a picnic area - families really seem to like going there on the weekends. There's even a sign in Arabic on the door that says "Families Only," which I assume implies that young men cannot go in there by themselves to goof off or ogle the girls.
On my way to work I also cross Culture Street, which is in my opinion one of the funnier misnomers of Amman. Apart from a Burger King and a few other restaurants and banks, there's not really much to be found there. The most interesting part is perhaps the young tribe of skaters who use the sloped stairs in the wide center median of the street to do stunts and hang out. They remind me exactly of the "skaters" I used to know when I was in middle school and high school, and they discuss the "tricks" they hit in accent-less English.
The rest of my walk is pretty uneventful, unless you begin to count all the different obstacles that have been placed on the sidewalks to make them unusable. Everything from rubble, to chairs, to trees, to rows of cars - everything except pedestrians! I'm not really complaining though - my walks to and from work are among my favorite parts of the day. So far it is not hot enough in the early or late parts of the day to keep me from walking, though we will see if that lasts into August.
------
Author's note, posted three days after original post:
It has been pointed out to me by someone who has lived in Shmeisani for a very long time that a couple of my above comments are incorrect. First of all, Shmeisani's development was not stimulated specifically by the Arab Bank's establishment in the area, but rather it was simply the next area in a succession of new development in the city, starting with the first and second circle areas and moving outwards. It also helped that the area was zoned "A," which means that lots are larger (more room for people who are looking to build large villas), and also an expectation of keeping your house in better repair.
Secondly, Culture Street was recently named during the year that Amman was the Arab cultural capital for a year (this is a rotating honor). Contrary to my impression, which was of a street named in an attempt to generate culture, it seems that this street was chosen because of its already-existing culture, mostly created through a wide pedestrian median where people can gather on benches to talk. And it is true - there are quite a few people out there, particularly during breezy summer nights.
So, I am very appreciative of being corrected, and I'm glad this post helped me to learn something. As always, I love for this blog to be more dialogue and less just me talking, so your comments are very welcome.
29 June 2008
Written shortly after my arrival in Amman, during 'soul delay'
For the first time in my life I am not a student.
Well, here I am again. In Amman. Beginning another year here. Am I crazy? An adventurer? Opportunistic? Full of wanderlust? In love with Jordan? Trying to find myself? Who knows.
This start, while a far cry from my last arrival here - I think I was in a state somewhere between awestruck and bewildered for a full month last year - has hit me with some hard truths right away.
First of all, I had some ideas that I would come back to Amman and continue my "cultural immersion" into this second year. I would improve my Arabic, learn more about Jordan and the Middle East, get some more work experience, etc. That was my plan.
What I conveniently forgot is that working in an international organization all day and then hanging out with friends during free time does not leave much time for "cultural" exploration. I am also surprised to find myself perceiving this exploration very differently than last year. Last time I was here - even just a few weeks ago - everything in Jordan was exciting simply for existing in Jordan. Everything was an experience. I didn't care what type of food was at the grocery store, I just wanted to live the experience of shopping there. I didn't care what type of trash littered the sidewalks; I wanted to catalog it in my mind to see what people threw away here.
Now I find myself falling into the dangerous trap of just wanting to live life. I want some food that I like, I want to walk on a sidewalk without bumping into olive trees that take up the whole space. I don't think this is a good attitude to have here.
Secondly, I am constantly feeling bad that I know only one small part of Jordan, one small part of Amman, which is often worlds apart from the rest of the country. I wanted to leave knowing Jordan, and I realize that I will only leave knowing West Amman for the most part, with perhaps little snippets of the rest of the country.
However, I am trying to come to terms with this as best I can. After all, this is still the Amman that I love! There are many people, as I have already written, who say that West Amman is not the "real" Jordan. But I think this is a shortsighted statement. When I lived in Paris, many people told me I was not experiencing the "real" France, either. But France would not be France without Paris, and Jordan would not be Jordan without West Amman. And perhaps I need to see this year as a chance to understand the microcosm that is West Amman without constantly bemoaning the fact that that is all that I know. After all, it is a fascinating place, with warm and wonderful people. Should I deny it a deep look simply because I am able to live here? I think that would be silly.
On the Arabic front, I am also struggling. The fact of the matter is that any Jordanian here who has a similar educational and/or socio-economic level to me almost certainly speaks better English than my Arabic. And so I am looking, sadly, at a year where my Arabic may fall into disuse - in an Arabic-speaking country! I want to fight this, and I am trying with language partner meetings several times per week, etc. but the truth is that this won't be enough. I need to be living in Arabic - as I mostly was at this point in my journey in France - and it doesn't seem as though this can happen if I want to maintain the lifestyle that I have now. So I am going to have to make some hard choices in the near future, I think.
I think the most important part of this for me, though, is to be sure that I am living in Jordan for a good reason. Not that I would rather be living somewhere else, but that maybe Jordanians would rather have me living somewhere else! What I mean to say is, am I becoming part of the humanitarian-worker community which superimposes itself on a country without really interacting with the citizens of that country? Will I continue to develop a parallel life of mostly ex-pat friends (and the few Jordanians who can stand us!) essentially living along with the rich elite while most Jordanians are struggling to pay for rapidly rising gas bills and outrageously priced tomatoes? I am afraid of this.
A colleague at work told me a story today in which she had to go to a hospital in East Amman (it was the only one with a certain type of anti-venom for snake bites, go figure) and that the scene was a stark contrast from what she is used to in West Amman. People groaning, blood on the floors, crowds of families, etc. She told me that it reminded her how isolated our existence here in our first world bubble really is. I feel guilty for participating in this bubble, but I have to admit that I don't want to give my life up. More hard choices on the horizon, I think.
When it comes down to it, I would not want to be here if my presence were not a net good at the end of the day. And I think right now, I'm not sure about that. I guess I have a year to figure it out.
Well, here I am again. In Amman. Beginning another year here. Am I crazy? An adventurer? Opportunistic? Full of wanderlust? In love with Jordan? Trying to find myself? Who knows.
This start, while a far cry from my last arrival here - I think I was in a state somewhere between awestruck and bewildered for a full month last year - has hit me with some hard truths right away.
First of all, I had some ideas that I would come back to Amman and continue my "cultural immersion" into this second year. I would improve my Arabic, learn more about Jordan and the Middle East, get some more work experience, etc. That was my plan.
What I conveniently forgot is that working in an international organization all day and then hanging out with friends during free time does not leave much time for "cultural" exploration. I am also surprised to find myself perceiving this exploration very differently than last year. Last time I was here - even just a few weeks ago - everything in Jordan was exciting simply for existing in Jordan. Everything was an experience. I didn't care what type of food was at the grocery store, I just wanted to live the experience of shopping there. I didn't care what type of trash littered the sidewalks; I wanted to catalog it in my mind to see what people threw away here.
Now I find myself falling into the dangerous trap of just wanting to live life. I want some food that I like, I want to walk on a sidewalk without bumping into olive trees that take up the whole space. I don't think this is a good attitude to have here.
Secondly, I am constantly feeling bad that I know only one small part of Jordan, one small part of Amman, which is often worlds apart from the rest of the country. I wanted to leave knowing Jordan, and I realize that I will only leave knowing West Amman for the most part, with perhaps little snippets of the rest of the country.
However, I am trying to come to terms with this as best I can. After all, this is still the Amman that I love! There are many people, as I have already written, who say that West Amman is not the "real" Jordan. But I think this is a shortsighted statement. When I lived in Paris, many people told me I was not experiencing the "real" France, either. But France would not be France without Paris, and Jordan would not be Jordan without West Amman. And perhaps I need to see this year as a chance to understand the microcosm that is West Amman without constantly bemoaning the fact that that is all that I know. After all, it is a fascinating place, with warm and wonderful people. Should I deny it a deep look simply because I am able to live here? I think that would be silly.
On the Arabic front, I am also struggling. The fact of the matter is that any Jordanian here who has a similar educational and/or socio-economic level to me almost certainly speaks better English than my Arabic. And so I am looking, sadly, at a year where my Arabic may fall into disuse - in an Arabic-speaking country! I want to fight this, and I am trying with language partner meetings several times per week, etc. but the truth is that this won't be enough. I need to be living in Arabic - as I mostly was at this point in my journey in France - and it doesn't seem as though this can happen if I want to maintain the lifestyle that I have now. So I am going to have to make some hard choices in the near future, I think.
I think the most important part of this for me, though, is to be sure that I am living in Jordan for a good reason. Not that I would rather be living somewhere else, but that maybe Jordanians would rather have me living somewhere else! What I mean to say is, am I becoming part of the humanitarian-worker community which superimposes itself on a country without really interacting with the citizens of that country? Will I continue to develop a parallel life of mostly ex-pat friends (and the few Jordanians who can stand us!) essentially living along with the rich elite while most Jordanians are struggling to pay for rapidly rising gas bills and outrageously priced tomatoes? I am afraid of this.
A colleague at work told me a story today in which she had to go to a hospital in East Amman (it was the only one with a certain type of anti-venom for snake bites, go figure) and that the scene was a stark contrast from what she is used to in West Amman. People groaning, blood on the floors, crowds of families, etc. She told me that it reminded her how isolated our existence here in our first world bubble really is. I feel guilty for participating in this bubble, but I have to admit that I don't want to give my life up. More hard choices on the horizon, I think.
When it comes down to it, I would not want to be here if my presence were not a net good at the end of the day. And I think right now, I'm not sure about that. I guess I have a year to figure it out.
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