I went to two concerts last week. The first was of a world famous British string quartet performing Beethoven, Hayden and Tchaikovsky organised by the British Council. The second was a birthday celebration for King Abdullah and featured several of Jordan's popular singers and a troup of young Jordanian dubka dancers (dubka is a traditional Jordanian dance - very nice).
The two concerts were apart. They were both exceptional, and enjoyable, but their differences ran much deeper than the style of music performed.
The classical concert was held in Amman's nicest theatre. A security check was given upon entrance, and the audience was probably half expat. The King's concert was held in an enormous indoor sports hall at the Amman Ahlia University. No security check was given, despite the Prime Minister being in attendance, and the hall was jammed with thousands of patriotic Jordanians adorned with national scarves and clothes, and waving Jordanian flags. There were huge groups of Jordanian teenage boys chanting songs, running around the stadium and basically causing havoc. I have never seen such excitement for the birthday of a head of state before. The atmosphere was comparable to that of a football final, and many hoped that the King would make an appearance. With the lax security, we were deeply hoping that he wouldn't. It was at this concert where I was groped between the legs, some of these teenagers were truly out of control.
It was a very exciting concert and it was fantastic to see so many young people (if a little annoying) taking such pride in their country and appreciation in the talents of its singers and dancers.
The atmosphere at the classical concert was very different, just polite clapping.
Anyway, the point is, these two concerts got me thinking. In particular a comment made by one of the British Council staff as she introduced the string quartet. She said something like, the British Council is working to bring music to Jordan. Or classical music or something. And probably because I have studied anthropology, I thought, hang on, isn't that just a new form of cultural imperialism? i.e. we can't civilise them by ruling them, so let's just bring some civilised music to them...
Probably an over reaction on my part. And it certainly is nice to have a variety of music here, and I really enjoyed seeing this string quartet. But is it really the role of Britain to try and culturally develop Jordan? And even if it were, is it really necessary? Jordan has an Orchestra, it has a big music scene, it is keeping alive oriental music traditions. So why should Britain be spending money on bringing its musicians here. If it has money to spend, wouldn't it be better spent on helping the Jordanian musicians who are already struggling to make their careers here? I don't know, I don't know much about music, but after going to the King's concert and seeing the wonderful performances, Britain's stance seems a little patronising.
I'm sure there's a lot more to it than what I've said, but there you have a few ideas.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
The people who teach me
I have a teacher here called Sana' and she's the best Arabic teacher I've ever had. She's well spoken, intelligent, and down to business. She doesn't put up with any stupid comments and she's very open about her views. Obviously, this leads to me disagreeing with some of the things she says - normally internally, sometimes orally.
Today for example, we came across the word for 'fortune-teller or psychic' in the text we're reading. She mentioned that this is haram (a sin) in Islam, and that such people are just liars, for no one knows the future except God. She then asked us whether we had ever had our fortunes told by such people. I was the only one admitted that I had, telling her that my Mum is a fortune teller. This provoked some laughter from class. In fact, my mother does not claim to be able to tell the future, and certainly doesn't call herself a fortune teller. But she is able to very accurately read people and understand many things about themselves and about the type of life they lead, and what the likely patterns will be for them in the future. So, I guess I was baiting my teacher in a way, but we were able to have a very nice discussion about this which is something I appreciate from people that have very different view points.
The previous discussion we had had about love had also warmed me to her somewhat. She recently won an international prize in a short story competition, which the theme of love. Sana' is avowed feminist and has very interesting and pertinent views on love and women. When she accepted her prize in Cairo, she was asked on stage, how much it meant to her, obviously with the expectation that she would whoop on about how this was a great affirmation for her career etc.
Instead, she said, I would take back all the books I've published, all the prizes I've won, all the acclaim I've received, in exchange for true love.
Now, I can't say that this is an opinion I share, or that I don't share it. I honestly don't know if I would pass up a succesful career for love. Which would be more fulfilling? It's hard to say. Sana' herself is very sure, but then she, like me, has never been in love. So how to know? Her views on love make her position even more confusing. She believes that in most cases love is one sided and thus unfulfilled, or that one person is much more in love than the other. In her view, the cases where two people love each other deeply and completely a all but nonexistent. Why? Because for Sana' love means giving and giving and giving. And most people do not have this in them. They just want to be loved. I'm exactly sure where I stand on this view, though I think that a need to be loved, and a belief that love involves the sacrifice of giving, are both equally unhealthy ways to approach love. I'm just happy to have a teacher that is thought provoking at the same time as teaching us Arabic in a very accesible way. An engaging language teacher is pretty rare.
I have to contrast this highly satisfying class with the second class I went to today. We had a professor called Awni (that's also the name of my local supermarket). He very proudly told us that he has published 23 books, more than 20 academic articles, and studied in the US, Russia, Sweden and god knows where else. He's a very proud man, and most of his sentences begin with 'Well, I studied/lived/visited in ..... so I know'.
We will have Dr Awni once a week and he will teach us about media. He says we will read all sorts of newspaper articles, but we wont get bogged down in the politics of them, as we are here to learn the language. Oh, and we wont read articles about sex. Fine, I respect that. So then, he started telling us about a recent new item he had read in the British papers, about Chantelle Steadman(15 years) and Alfie Patten (13 years) who have recently had a child. I hadn't read about the case, and was confused about the news, as I know that such teen pregnancies are pretty common (there was a girl in my sixth grade class who gave birth). So I said, that's normal, obviously not in the sense that I think that's normal, but that it happens. I was confused about why it was news, and news enough that he was bringing it up. He assured me that such a case is not normal, in any way.
So, someone asked him, what is the legal age for marriage in Jordan? 14 for girls, 16 for men, he replied. Observing the shock on some peoples faces (I was not shocked; a friend of mine's mother was married at 13) he defended his country, saying well in Saudi Arabia, the legal age of marriage is 9. That certainly registered a shock in me. But he had another defence, and this is the part that got my goat...
He says, girls that live in hot climates such as Saudi Arabia develop younger (he cites heat as a trigger for puberty...) so in Saudi Arabia, 9 year olds are fully formed women (the implication that physical formation is all the constitutes womanhood was not discussed) and thus ready for marriage. I told him that I had grown up in an incredibly hot climate (Narrabri) which certainly is as hot as some parts of Saudi Arabia (no exaggeration) and that I hadn't started puberty until 12. And, though I didn't mention it, was not a fully formed (supposedly) woman until some years later.
No, no. In these hot countries, girls become women younger so its fine. And Awni has lived in Sweden, so he knows, and there the age of marriage is 18. That's because Sweden is such a cold country that they become women later.
I was pretty outraged by this whole discussion, not because of his view that you can be 9 and be a women, which I certainly don't agree with, but at the same time I am certainly not going to get outraged against a commonly held opinion being recycled by my teacher, but more by his general hypocrisy. The cases of these kid-parents in Britain is an outcry, but not in Saudi Arabia. And that's because of the weather.
Anyway, I decided I should check my facts, in case I was horribly wrong. And it is clear that environment does have some effect on the onset of puberty, namely malnutrition and stunted development leads to a later onset, while obesity and diabetes can lead to early onset of puberty.
I can easily accept that people everywhere in the world have views that disgust and anger me, as well as views that make me sad or relieved or happy. It's not just that I'm living in Jordan, I feel these sentiments with any people I mix with in the world, and I try not to buy into their views too emotionally. But this man, well, I guess it was the way he tried to establish his authority as an educated and worldy chap that really made his views all the more offensive. Ignorance when it's being supported by arrogance is much more painful.
(The above was an old post that I didn't post due to internet failure. Now I have one more to add to my 'interesting comments from teachers stream').
This week's class with Dr. Awni was once more insightful. Al-Taib Salah, a very important Sudani writer recently passed away. We study one of his most famous works in our course, so naturally we talked about him following his death. Dr. Awni introduced Salah to us, telling us about his life and publications. Salah lived and studied for many years in Britain, and experienced some racism as a black man living there. No surprises there, because as Awni was very quick to point out, countries like Britain and the US are very racist and were even more so at the time when Salah emigrated to Britain. But often Western countries get a pretty bad rap in the Middle East, not least by academics. So I quickly pointed out that racism is also a problem in Jordan.
'In Jordan!? No, we don't have racism here.' (Undertones of Ahmadinejad's famous speech at Columbia University in 2007).
Well, yes, you do, I experience racism here all the time.
'No! How can we have racism when we don't have blacks and whites here (not that I like using those terms).'
Well racism isn't just about colour, and certainly not just about two colours.
Westerners can never blend in in Jordan. We will always be ripped off more than your average Jordanian, frequently assumed to be morally loose and lacking a strong cultural background. And the racism experienced by immigrant workers from Sri Lanka, Indonesia, the Philipines etc. is of an even nastier kind.
'But in Islam, and in the Arab culture, we don't have racism.'
I don't think many cultures or religions state racism as one of their tenets, but bad stuff happens and people don't always follow their culture, in fact when it doesn't suit them, I think they rarely do. There are bad people in every country, and mentalities and attitudes spread through populations very quickly to the point that they no longer seem remarkable.
The fact that someone grabbed my vagina in a crowd today, following multiple jeers in English (one look at me and you know I'm not Jordanian apparently - that's not racist?) does not instantly make me think, wow, these teenagers are racist. But they are. So why does that not evoke in me the thought that the people doing or saying these things are racist, whereas someone being called a towel-head would? A Palestinian being beaten up by an Israeli would be a racist attack, but my vagina being groped by a Jordanian is not?
This is not meant to be a comment on the injustices done to white people, who clearly responsible for some of the most repulsive racial tirades in history, but merely an observation on how we develop our opinions on what is racism.
Racism is typically seen as a savage vs civilised dichotomy where one people designates itself as more civilised than another. Whereas the racism directed at Westerners in Jordan comes (obviously from many things but) largely from negative media images that portray Westerners as sexually loose and morally vague. The wealth that they bring to this poor country also obviously has a part to play, as well as a sometimes different lifestyle, values and priorities. All these things lead insidiously to Western females being considered sex objects and undeserving of basic respect and decency.
I don't agree with such an image of Western girls. There is nothing about me or my culture, or even the way my culture is sometimes portrayed in the media that can in any way justify or excuse someone violating me.
And if these teenagers' vision of my culture was actually accurate, would that make it any more appropriate for them to abuse me?
Well no, because there are real differences between cultures and cultures are frequently constituted of (or mainly identified with) one main 'race'. So to attack someone on the basis of their culture (identitfying them as such by their racial appearance) even if an aspect of their culture is apparently abhorent, would set a fairly dangerous precedent.
What I'm trying to say is that racism is not simply about skin colour or a sense of biological/physical superiority. It has definite associations with the culture assumed to be related to a particular race. And so racism can become a more complicated problem, when it can backed up with complaints against a culture more than with weak biological or physical complaints.
And that is the way racism is moving now. Arguably, Arabs experience the most racism in Western countries at the moment. And this is a comment on the way their culture is perceived, much more than a complaint about their physical appearance which was once the largest driver behind racism.
Today for example, we came across the word for 'fortune-teller or psychic' in the text we're reading. She mentioned that this is haram (a sin) in Islam, and that such people are just liars, for no one knows the future except God. She then asked us whether we had ever had our fortunes told by such people. I was the only one admitted that I had, telling her that my Mum is a fortune teller. This provoked some laughter from class. In fact, my mother does not claim to be able to tell the future, and certainly doesn't call herself a fortune teller. But she is able to very accurately read people and understand many things about themselves and about the type of life they lead, and what the likely patterns will be for them in the future. So, I guess I was baiting my teacher in a way, but we were able to have a very nice discussion about this which is something I appreciate from people that have very different view points.
The previous discussion we had had about love had also warmed me to her somewhat. She recently won an international prize in a short story competition, which the theme of love. Sana' is avowed feminist and has very interesting and pertinent views on love and women. When she accepted her prize in Cairo, she was asked on stage, how much it meant to her, obviously with the expectation that she would whoop on about how this was a great affirmation for her career etc.
Instead, she said, I would take back all the books I've published, all the prizes I've won, all the acclaim I've received, in exchange for true love.
Now, I can't say that this is an opinion I share, or that I don't share it. I honestly don't know if I would pass up a succesful career for love. Which would be more fulfilling? It's hard to say. Sana' herself is very sure, but then she, like me, has never been in love. So how to know? Her views on love make her position even more confusing. She believes that in most cases love is one sided and thus unfulfilled, or that one person is much more in love than the other. In her view, the cases where two people love each other deeply and completely a all but nonexistent. Why? Because for Sana' love means giving and giving and giving. And most people do not have this in them. They just want to be loved. I'm exactly sure where I stand on this view, though I think that a need to be loved, and a belief that love involves the sacrifice of giving, are both equally unhealthy ways to approach love. I'm just happy to have a teacher that is thought provoking at the same time as teaching us Arabic in a very accesible way. An engaging language teacher is pretty rare.
I have to contrast this highly satisfying class with the second class I went to today. We had a professor called Awni (that's also the name of my local supermarket). He very proudly told us that he has published 23 books, more than 20 academic articles, and studied in the US, Russia, Sweden and god knows where else. He's a very proud man, and most of his sentences begin with 'Well, I studied/lived/visited in ..... so I know'.
We will have Dr Awni once a week and he will teach us about media. He says we will read all sorts of newspaper articles, but we wont get bogged down in the politics of them, as we are here to learn the language. Oh, and we wont read articles about sex. Fine, I respect that. So then, he started telling us about a recent new item he had read in the British papers, about Chantelle Steadman(15 years) and Alfie Patten (13 years) who have recently had a child. I hadn't read about the case, and was confused about the news, as I know that such teen pregnancies are pretty common (there was a girl in my sixth grade class who gave birth). So I said, that's normal, obviously not in the sense that I think that's normal, but that it happens. I was confused about why it was news, and news enough that he was bringing it up. He assured me that such a case is not normal, in any way.
So, someone asked him, what is the legal age for marriage in Jordan? 14 for girls, 16 for men, he replied. Observing the shock on some peoples faces (I was not shocked; a friend of mine's mother was married at 13) he defended his country, saying well in Saudi Arabia, the legal age of marriage is 9. That certainly registered a shock in me. But he had another defence, and this is the part that got my goat...
He says, girls that live in hot climates such as Saudi Arabia develop younger (he cites heat as a trigger for puberty...) so in Saudi Arabia, 9 year olds are fully formed women (the implication that physical formation is all the constitutes womanhood was not discussed) and thus ready for marriage. I told him that I had grown up in an incredibly hot climate (Narrabri) which certainly is as hot as some parts of Saudi Arabia (no exaggeration) and that I hadn't started puberty until 12. And, though I didn't mention it, was not a fully formed (supposedly) woman until some years later.
No, no. In these hot countries, girls become women younger so its fine. And Awni has lived in Sweden, so he knows, and there the age of marriage is 18. That's because Sweden is such a cold country that they become women later.
I was pretty outraged by this whole discussion, not because of his view that you can be 9 and be a women, which I certainly don't agree with, but at the same time I am certainly not going to get outraged against a commonly held opinion being recycled by my teacher, but more by his general hypocrisy. The cases of these kid-parents in Britain is an outcry, but not in Saudi Arabia. And that's because of the weather.
Anyway, I decided I should check my facts, in case I was horribly wrong. And it is clear that environment does have some effect on the onset of puberty, namely malnutrition and stunted development leads to a later onset, while obesity and diabetes can lead to early onset of puberty.
I can easily accept that people everywhere in the world have views that disgust and anger me, as well as views that make me sad or relieved or happy. It's not just that I'm living in Jordan, I feel these sentiments with any people I mix with in the world, and I try not to buy into their views too emotionally. But this man, well, I guess it was the way he tried to establish his authority as an educated and worldy chap that really made his views all the more offensive. Ignorance when it's being supported by arrogance is much more painful.
(The above was an old post that I didn't post due to internet failure. Now I have one more to add to my 'interesting comments from teachers stream').
This week's class with Dr. Awni was once more insightful. Al-Taib Salah, a very important Sudani writer recently passed away. We study one of his most famous works in our course, so naturally we talked about him following his death. Dr. Awni introduced Salah to us, telling us about his life and publications. Salah lived and studied for many years in Britain, and experienced some racism as a black man living there. No surprises there, because as Awni was very quick to point out, countries like Britain and the US are very racist and were even more so at the time when Salah emigrated to Britain. But often Western countries get a pretty bad rap in the Middle East, not least by academics. So I quickly pointed out that racism is also a problem in Jordan.
'In Jordan!? No, we don't have racism here.' (Undertones of Ahmadinejad's famous speech at Columbia University in 2007).
Well, yes, you do, I experience racism here all the time.
'No! How can we have racism when we don't have blacks and whites here (not that I like using those terms).'
Well racism isn't just about colour, and certainly not just about two colours.
Westerners can never blend in in Jordan. We will always be ripped off more than your average Jordanian, frequently assumed to be morally loose and lacking a strong cultural background. And the racism experienced by immigrant workers from Sri Lanka, Indonesia, the Philipines etc. is of an even nastier kind.
'But in Islam, and in the Arab culture, we don't have racism.'
I don't think many cultures or religions state racism as one of their tenets, but bad stuff happens and people don't always follow their culture, in fact when it doesn't suit them, I think they rarely do. There are bad people in every country, and mentalities and attitudes spread through populations very quickly to the point that they no longer seem remarkable.
The fact that someone grabbed my vagina in a crowd today, following multiple jeers in English (one look at me and you know I'm not Jordanian apparently - that's not racist?) does not instantly make me think, wow, these teenagers are racist. But they are. So why does that not evoke in me the thought that the people doing or saying these things are racist, whereas someone being called a towel-head would? A Palestinian being beaten up by an Israeli would be a racist attack, but my vagina being groped by a Jordanian is not?
This is not meant to be a comment on the injustices done to white people, who clearly responsible for some of the most repulsive racial tirades in history, but merely an observation on how we develop our opinions on what is racism.
Racism is typically seen as a savage vs civilised dichotomy where one people designates itself as more civilised than another. Whereas the racism directed at Westerners in Jordan comes (obviously from many things but) largely from negative media images that portray Westerners as sexually loose and morally vague. The wealth that they bring to this poor country also obviously has a part to play, as well as a sometimes different lifestyle, values and priorities. All these things lead insidiously to Western females being considered sex objects and undeserving of basic respect and decency.
I don't agree with such an image of Western girls. There is nothing about me or my culture, or even the way my culture is sometimes portrayed in the media that can in any way justify or excuse someone violating me.
And if these teenagers' vision of my culture was actually accurate, would that make it any more appropriate for them to abuse me?
Well no, because there are real differences between cultures and cultures are frequently constituted of (or mainly identified with) one main 'race'. So to attack someone on the basis of their culture (identitfying them as such by their racial appearance) even if an aspect of their culture is apparently abhorent, would set a fairly dangerous precedent.
What I'm trying to say is that racism is not simply about skin colour or a sense of biological/physical superiority. It has definite associations with the culture assumed to be related to a particular race. And so racism can become a more complicated problem, when it can backed up with complaints against a culture more than with weak biological or physical complaints.
And that is the way racism is moving now. Arguably, Arabs experience the most racism in Western countries at the moment. And this is a comment on the way their culture is perceived, much more than a complaint about their physical appearance which was once the largest driver behind racism.
Monday, February 9, 2009
For the love of Israel
I made this little plan: if I could find cheap flights to Europe, then I'd go with Rian, escape my 'stress' etc. for a few weeks and come back to Jordan happy and refreshed for the next semester (which at that point, and still now, I don't know if it will be passed in Australia or Jordan....). Unfortunately the flights from Jordan to Holland were in the $1000 range, and thus completely out of reach and justification...But then, light of lights! I found a flight from Tel Aviv to Belgium for just $370 return! Wow. I didn't have any desire to go to either Israel or Belgium. You could even say I had negative desire. But I thought to myself, it wont be that bad and I booked.
Four days later, I found myself sitting in the 'Entrace' building to 'Israel' at the Jordanian Israeli borders, with a lot of poor Palestinian people that were trying to go and visit their families. Of course, the average, hard working, nice Palestinian has to spend some hours sitting on these cold metal seats, waiting to be cleared to get into their country by a bunch of 18 year old Israeli girls sporting low rise cargo pants, tight, unbuttoned blouses and a bad attitude.
The fact that I am neither Arab, nor Palestinian, nor Muslim, changes nothing in the eyes of the Israelis, for I have the bad taste to CHOOSE to live with these untrustworthy types. So I spent two hours there, as they asked me stupid questions:
What are you doing in Jordan? Why? Why do you study Arabic? Oh, you like the Middle East? Why not learn Hebrew then? Why not study Arabic in Israel? Do you have an Arab friends? (I live in an Arab country you morons), Why did you go to Syria? When? How many days? With who? Did you talk to any Syrians? Where did you stay? Lebanon? Why are you coming to Israel? To fly out of Tel Aviv. Why? It's cheaper. No it's not, what's the real reason? What are you doing when you go back to Jordan? How long do you want to stay? Give me your email address, your phone number, and your fixed number, and all your numbers in Australia, and your parents numbers, what are their names? Do they know where you're going?
And so it went on. And I don't want to complain too much, because first of all, most Arabs, and especially Palestinians, can never go to Palestine (Israel). Ever. And then, those that do have the chance to go, normally have to go through a much longer and more aggravating experience at the borders, not to mention that it is more degrading, given they are fighting for access to their own homes (in those cases where they still stand). So, no I can't complain, but I hate the system, and I hate that they know everything I have done in the last 3 years, and that I have to justify studying Arabic (as though there is no reason to associate with one of the richest, oldest and most hospitable cultures on the planet). Anyway.
Four hours later I arrived at the Tel Aviv airport, and low and behold, had a simillar, but worse, experience. As I lined up to enter the check in part of the airport, my passport was checked, standard. But, as soon as she saw the dozens of Arabic stamps, she was off. She returned with two more security personnel who proceeded to question me for a good 10 minutes. All the same questions as before. And this is me trying to get out of their paranoid country (which, obviously gave me the possibility to do something rash like blow up a plane or an airport garbage bin, as though I'd know how to do that!). So they then spent 45 minutes searching my luggage, taking absolutely everything out, opening sachets, searching dirty clothes pockets, swipping everything with the chemical detector, scanning things numerous times, feeling me up all over, and finally giving me a security escort through check-in. Free at last, I sat in the airport and listened to the security announcements which were a bit different to what I am accustomed ("A reminder that guns are prohibited in this airport"). Of course, in a country where everyone is allowed to (even encouraged) to carry guns, this warning is not as intuitive as it may seem.
Three weeks later I returned, arriving in Tel Aviv airport at 11:30 pm. I stormed through the long airport, rushing with all the other travellers, and was first in line at one of the many immigration queues. I felt almost human as I walked up to the counter, aware of how quickly the immigration processing seemed to be going, and for a second felt that I would be ushered through without a problem. What naivety! I was quickly shown to the waiting room that I hadn't noticed before. There were about 15 people waiting in their, some of them obviously Muslim with their Islamic caps. I gave them the usual grimace, there is definitely a sense of unity amongst those who are rejected by the Israelis. I met most of the people in the room. 10 of them were British Muslims of Indian descent who were on an Interfaith tour with 10 Christians. All of the Christians had entered Israel immediately. Their Muslim companions had been waiting for more than 7 hours. For no reason other than being Muslim. Only two of them had visited Arab countries before (having visited Lebanon, Syria or Iran is normally the biggest reason for being detained). There was also a Columbian Pilates instructor who lives in Cyprus who had come to Tel Aviv for a weekend long training seminar (first time in the Middle East, neither Muslim nor Arab) and had brought his invitation and registration confirmations. There was a random Finnish guy who didn't look too bright, and a French couple of Tunisian origin. I spent two and a half hours there, being ignored for the first hour - not a single question asked, just sitting there. Then all the usual questions, plus a full interogation about my time in Europe. Where did I go, why, who did I see? Oh, you studied there before? Why? Where? What was the name of the school, what were you studing and so on.
Free at last, I went to collect my luggage which had been left on the luggage belt for two and a half hours, pretty nice target really. Then had the same kind of interogation, baggage search etc. from baggage woman who assured me that she was from a different department, so yes it was indeed necessary to ask me all the same questions.
Absolutely disgusted, not so much at my treatment, but at that of these Interfaith travellers, who were coming to learn about each others faiths and share them, and this poor Collumbian! He was just so confused, and had had no idea that that wait would be in stall for him! So I jumped a bus to Jerusalem, arrived near the old city at 3.30 in the morning, and sat in a 24 hour restaurant where I met about half a dozen very friendly Palestinians who chatted with me til I left in search of a bus at 6. Oh, and on the bus from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem....
Well I met a very friendly and open Israeli, and had a fascinating conversation with him which heartened and scared me at the same time. A summary of his thoughts:
What the Israelis do to the Palestinians is not good, (such as building the wall inside their territory instead of outside) but it's effective...
That there is a dirty hypocrisy in Israel's obsession with security and concurrent building of ileagal settlements in Palestinian territories.
That most Israelis regretted the high death toll from the war on Gaza in Dec 2008 - Jan 2009, but thought that the operation in general was necessary and successful.
That there was a general feeling in Israel that it would be good if the Palestinians actually succeeded in hitting a pre-school or something with their rockets, to justify the high civillian casulties caused by Israel.
That the Israeli settlers ileagally living in Palestinian territory are terribly bad people, and do horrible things, and basically see their mission as inhabiting the holy land with Jews, bringing the peace and joy and love so that the Messiah will come. And from this he also sees them as amazing people, who work very hard, are educated, are musical and creative and talented, and believe so strongly in their mission that they are willing to live in highly adverse situations in order to carry it through.
That he has worked as a peace activist helping the Palestinians and that for him the Zionist dream has been dead for a long time.
That he believes Israel is at the lowest point in it's history; prospects for peace are worse than ever before and the two Israeli parties that have a chance of holding government as of the elections this Tuesday have no real desire for peace and are basically fascist and belicose.
So it was heartening on the one hand to hear his critisisms, but grim at the same time to know that his criticisms are largely drawn from the understanding of how irretrievable the situation is.
Four days later, I found myself sitting in the 'Entrace' building to 'Israel' at the Jordanian Israeli borders, with a lot of poor Palestinian people that were trying to go and visit their families. Of course, the average, hard working, nice Palestinian has to spend some hours sitting on these cold metal seats, waiting to be cleared to get into their country by a bunch of 18 year old Israeli girls sporting low rise cargo pants, tight, unbuttoned blouses and a bad attitude.
The fact that I am neither Arab, nor Palestinian, nor Muslim, changes nothing in the eyes of the Israelis, for I have the bad taste to CHOOSE to live with these untrustworthy types. So I spent two hours there, as they asked me stupid questions:
What are you doing in Jordan? Why? Why do you study Arabic? Oh, you like the Middle East? Why not learn Hebrew then? Why not study Arabic in Israel? Do you have an Arab friends? (I live in an Arab country you morons), Why did you go to Syria? When? How many days? With who? Did you talk to any Syrians? Where did you stay? Lebanon? Why are you coming to Israel? To fly out of Tel Aviv. Why? It's cheaper. No it's not, what's the real reason? What are you doing when you go back to Jordan? How long do you want to stay? Give me your email address, your phone number, and your fixed number, and all your numbers in Australia, and your parents numbers, what are their names? Do they know where you're going?
And so it went on. And I don't want to complain too much, because first of all, most Arabs, and especially Palestinians, can never go to Palestine (Israel). Ever. And then, those that do have the chance to go, normally have to go through a much longer and more aggravating experience at the borders, not to mention that it is more degrading, given they are fighting for access to their own homes (in those cases where they still stand). So, no I can't complain, but I hate the system, and I hate that they know everything I have done in the last 3 years, and that I have to justify studying Arabic (as though there is no reason to associate with one of the richest, oldest and most hospitable cultures on the planet). Anyway.
Four hours later I arrived at the Tel Aviv airport, and low and behold, had a simillar, but worse, experience. As I lined up to enter the check in part of the airport, my passport was checked, standard. But, as soon as she saw the dozens of Arabic stamps, she was off. She returned with two more security personnel who proceeded to question me for a good 10 minutes. All the same questions as before. And this is me trying to get out of their paranoid country (which, obviously gave me the possibility to do something rash like blow up a plane or an airport garbage bin, as though I'd know how to do that!). So they then spent 45 minutes searching my luggage, taking absolutely everything out, opening sachets, searching dirty clothes pockets, swipping everything with the chemical detector, scanning things numerous times, feeling me up all over, and finally giving me a security escort through check-in. Free at last, I sat in the airport and listened to the security announcements which were a bit different to what I am accustomed ("A reminder that guns are prohibited in this airport"). Of course, in a country where everyone is allowed to (even encouraged) to carry guns, this warning is not as intuitive as it may seem.
Three weeks later I returned, arriving in Tel Aviv airport at 11:30 pm. I stormed through the long airport, rushing with all the other travellers, and was first in line at one of the many immigration queues. I felt almost human as I walked up to the counter, aware of how quickly the immigration processing seemed to be going, and for a second felt that I would be ushered through without a problem. What naivety! I was quickly shown to the waiting room that I hadn't noticed before. There were about 15 people waiting in their, some of them obviously Muslim with their Islamic caps. I gave them the usual grimace, there is definitely a sense of unity amongst those who are rejected by the Israelis. I met most of the people in the room. 10 of them were British Muslims of Indian descent who were on an Interfaith tour with 10 Christians. All of the Christians had entered Israel immediately. Their Muslim companions had been waiting for more than 7 hours. For no reason other than being Muslim. Only two of them had visited Arab countries before (having visited Lebanon, Syria or Iran is normally the biggest reason for being detained). There was also a Columbian Pilates instructor who lives in Cyprus who had come to Tel Aviv for a weekend long training seminar (first time in the Middle East, neither Muslim nor Arab) and had brought his invitation and registration confirmations. There was a random Finnish guy who didn't look too bright, and a French couple of Tunisian origin. I spent two and a half hours there, being ignored for the first hour - not a single question asked, just sitting there. Then all the usual questions, plus a full interogation about my time in Europe. Where did I go, why, who did I see? Oh, you studied there before? Why? Where? What was the name of the school, what were you studing and so on.
Free at last, I went to collect my luggage which had been left on the luggage belt for two and a half hours, pretty nice target really. Then had the same kind of interogation, baggage search etc. from baggage woman who assured me that she was from a different department, so yes it was indeed necessary to ask me all the same questions.
Absolutely disgusted, not so much at my treatment, but at that of these Interfaith travellers, who were coming to learn about each others faiths and share them, and this poor Collumbian! He was just so confused, and had had no idea that that wait would be in stall for him! So I jumped a bus to Jerusalem, arrived near the old city at 3.30 in the morning, and sat in a 24 hour restaurant where I met about half a dozen very friendly Palestinians who chatted with me til I left in search of a bus at 6. Oh, and on the bus from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem....
Well I met a very friendly and open Israeli, and had a fascinating conversation with him which heartened and scared me at the same time. A summary of his thoughts:
What the Israelis do to the Palestinians is not good, (such as building the wall inside their territory instead of outside) but it's effective...
That there is a dirty hypocrisy in Israel's obsession with security and concurrent building of ileagal settlements in Palestinian territories.
That most Israelis regretted the high death toll from the war on Gaza in Dec 2008 - Jan 2009, but thought that the operation in general was necessary and successful.
That there was a general feeling in Israel that it would be good if the Palestinians actually succeeded in hitting a pre-school or something with their rockets, to justify the high civillian casulties caused by Israel.
That the Israeli settlers ileagally living in Palestinian territory are terribly bad people, and do horrible things, and basically see their mission as inhabiting the holy land with Jews, bringing the peace and joy and love so that the Messiah will come. And from this he also sees them as amazing people, who work very hard, are educated, are musical and creative and talented, and believe so strongly in their mission that they are willing to live in highly adverse situations in order to carry it through.
That he has worked as a peace activist helping the Palestinians and that for him the Zionist dream has been dead for a long time.
That he believes Israel is at the lowest point in it's history; prospects for peace are worse than ever before and the two Israeli parties that have a chance of holding government as of the elections this Tuesday have no real desire for peace and are basically fascist and belicose.
So it was heartening on the one hand to hear his critisisms, but grim at the same time to know that his criticisms are largely drawn from the understanding of how irretrievable the situation is.
To get you up to date....
So yeah, after being out of Australia for a good 14 months (I was sitting on the runway of the Bangkok airport when K Rudd's election was announced) I have come to the conclusion that I have difficulty keeping in touch with people, and that a lot of people really don't get what the attraction of Jordan is for me, and why on earth I don't just come home (especially in light of my bank balance which is now negative $2000...). So, this is my attempt to rectify this silence and keeps some kind of contact with you, my loved ones...
So to summarise:
Novemer 2007: Travelled to Dubai for four days where I visited the Bahraini family for whom I was once a nanny to their 3 kids. I hung out with the kids, ran on the beach (which is very nice despite the Emiratis' best attempts to fill all surrounding marine areas with dirt shaped as gimmiky island stuff for rich people) and noticed that Dubai is still growing, ridiculously green (despite being one of the dryest areas on the planet) and cracking under its traffic problems. Nothing much had changed really.
So I headed across to Jordan, where I met up with 10 of the students from my Arabic class in Australia, and my teacher who is Jordo-alian, and lived with them in to neighbouring appartment buildings in Jubeihah, a suburb next to the University of Jordan and home to a large population of Saudis. We studied for a couple of months, at one point I took a bus south with Ben and we jumped on a ferry across to Egypt, sat on the beach for a few days, and then with a rush of nostalgia fled back to Amman to celebrate a good Aussie christmas with the rest of the crew. At this point the weather in my stomach kind of exploded, meaning hard core stomach bug killer pills, a dry christmas and thankfully lots of turkey.
Amman was nice, and time was mainly passed smoking argileh (water pipe) in the local Saudi hangout, Midwakh, studying, and attemping to communicate in broken Arabic with the natives. After 2 months, the Arabic was finally picking up, so Phoebe and I decided to stick on for another month and try and 'consolidate', in search of a change of scene and cheaper argileh, we lugged our bags up to Syria, found room with couches! in a house with a fountain in the living room, in the middle of the old city, which is the longest continually inhabited city in the world. Eager to settle in to our new home and meet some locals, we (logically) headed off to Lebanon in the middle of a blizzard in a taxi without snow chains. Going at about 2 ks an hour because of the poor vision (we could basically see snow) and the bad roads (they were frozen and we were ilequipped) we arrived late to Beirut and checked into our hotel, which was one of three identically named hotels in the same building, and appeared to double as a brothel cum cockroach mueseum. Never mind! We quickly enough found out where the real hookers hang out (in the clubs around our hotel) and went into the central resto-bar area where we found Gus. Beirut is cool, and we also went skiing in some mountains nearby.
Back to Jordan, and reluctantly on to France. For a moment it seemed that this part of the plan, which I had grown less keen on was going to be sabotaged, as snow started to fall once more, and our planes threatened to be grounded, and the hire car people refused to leave the warmth of their office to come and get the car and give us back our oh so useful passports. A brief encouter between our car and that belonging to a 'pilot for British Airways' threatened to further complicate the situation, but alhumdulilah, finally we boarded our flights, but alas, I had lost the beautiful posters I had carefully selected of President Assad of Syria.
I arrived in France in the middle of February and found it to be cold, grey and unfriendly. I had no where to live and not much clue any more of why I was to study in France for a year instead of my beloved Middle East. But, in a very quick time, I found a very nice share house in the company of a Serb guy and and Italian guy and girl. We even had a view of La Tour Eifel from our bedroom window....oh Paris! so got used to that, went to my uni where I was to study some fairly random courses for the next year, mainly focused on improving my French. Found the courses fairly unstimulated and some of the students very aggravating which was more irritating in the cases where they we wearing cuff links or stilletos (depending on their sex). But had a couple of classes that didn't leave me feeling suicidal and one very nice teacher who taught me how to pass off as a man in even the poshest parts of the city. At some point I decied I needed to make some cash, so I took to working in an Irish pub at La Bastille, which was quite dull really, but I learnt how to make good Mohitos, so I have no real complaints. Oh and I got to eat the cheeseburgers that they sold for $25 free of charge!!!! France was fun, lots of nice exchange students from around Europe, and when the sun came out, lots of drinking cheap and good wine and cheese along the river Seine, or in the forest/park thingys they have. Met lots of great people (who I don't keep as close in contact as I should) and was pretty happy when I made the decision to stop paying 400 euro ($800) a month to share a bedroom in a boring part of Paris and move to Jordan.
So now we're down to the real stuff. To cut to the chase, I quickly remembered why I had fallen in love with the Middle East the first time (I had forgotten that intensity along with my Arabic) and decided that I had no wish to return to Paris to complete my second semester. So began the 2 month process of asking my uni in Australia to credit me for a semester there instead of in France. Also good was that Rian, who had moved into the house I was living in the same week as me, and was equally bessotted with Jordan, decided to extend her stay. So we both threw off our intended courses of study and enrolled in the highly renowned and internationally prestigious University of Jordan. Actually it's a beautiful campus of almost 40,000 students and it's quite a good place to study I reckon. My Arabic teachers were a little eratic and sometimes spontaneously didn't come to class, but I learnt lots, and at the same time improved my spoken Arabic (which is entirely different to the Arabic you get at school, on the news and in books). So that was a good semester. Had a bit of a falling in love episode, that was nice for a time, went back to Australia for christmas, came back, took exams, got stressed, realised that I needed to show my uni in Australia all the work I had done in Jordan in order to get credit for it and that it didn't look so impressive, so focused on that, and then decided to break up with boyfriend, got emotional and stressed about the uncertainty of my future (yeah my life is so tragically hard I know...) and ran off to Europe with Rian for 3 weeks where I increased my debts and also noticed that the debt collectors were after me. Went to Holland, a very nice country, Belgium and Israel (to very unfortunate bi-products of my travels) and France where I saw some good old friends, had a terrorist scare on the metro, drank wine and saw my brother who lives in Polland.
Have just come back to Jordan, and am relieved to find the sun is mainly present and it's not too cold at all for survival (Europe I think is an evolutionary challenge). I am passing my time with trying to live up to the Obamalutions, which are 86 resolutions for change that we do believe in, conceived on Obama Day of course. I also look at photos of my new baby sister Madeline, am starting at uni, and nervously waiting for an email from ANU telling me what my destiny is for this semester. It's an edgy time really.
I hope to stay in Jordan, it's a nice country with good people, and now that I have the structure of the Obamalutions, which make demands of me such as:
Must always have toilet paper in the house
Clean teeth daily
Yoga once a week
If we ever end up in prison, make the most of it
Approach a hero and assign a mentor.
So, I think life's looking up really. Mainly thanks to Obama.
So to summarise:
Novemer 2007: Travelled to Dubai for four days where I visited the Bahraini family for whom I was once a nanny to their 3 kids. I hung out with the kids, ran on the beach (which is very nice despite the Emiratis' best attempts to fill all surrounding marine areas with dirt shaped as gimmiky island stuff for rich people) and noticed that Dubai is still growing, ridiculously green (despite being one of the dryest areas on the planet) and cracking under its traffic problems. Nothing much had changed really.
So I headed across to Jordan, where I met up with 10 of the students from my Arabic class in Australia, and my teacher who is Jordo-alian, and lived with them in to neighbouring appartment buildings in Jubeihah, a suburb next to the University of Jordan and home to a large population of Saudis. We studied for a couple of months, at one point I took a bus south with Ben and we jumped on a ferry across to Egypt, sat on the beach for a few days, and then with a rush of nostalgia fled back to Amman to celebrate a good Aussie christmas with the rest of the crew. At this point the weather in my stomach kind of exploded, meaning hard core stomach bug killer pills, a dry christmas and thankfully lots of turkey.
Amman was nice, and time was mainly passed smoking argileh (water pipe) in the local Saudi hangout, Midwakh, studying, and attemping to communicate in broken Arabic with the natives. After 2 months, the Arabic was finally picking up, so Phoebe and I decided to stick on for another month and try and 'consolidate', in search of a change of scene and cheaper argileh, we lugged our bags up to Syria, found room with couches! in a house with a fountain in the living room, in the middle of the old city, which is the longest continually inhabited city in the world. Eager to settle in to our new home and meet some locals, we (logically) headed off to Lebanon in the middle of a blizzard in a taxi without snow chains. Going at about 2 ks an hour because of the poor vision (we could basically see snow) and the bad roads (they were frozen and we were ilequipped) we arrived late to Beirut and checked into our hotel, which was one of three identically named hotels in the same building, and appeared to double as a brothel cum cockroach mueseum. Never mind! We quickly enough found out where the real hookers hang out (in the clubs around our hotel) and went into the central resto-bar area where we found Gus. Beirut is cool, and we also went skiing in some mountains nearby.
Back to Jordan, and reluctantly on to France. For a moment it seemed that this part of the plan, which I had grown less keen on was going to be sabotaged, as snow started to fall once more, and our planes threatened to be grounded, and the hire car people refused to leave the warmth of their office to come and get the car and give us back our oh so useful passports. A brief encouter between our car and that belonging to a 'pilot for British Airways' threatened to further complicate the situation, but alhumdulilah, finally we boarded our flights, but alas, I had lost the beautiful posters I had carefully selected of President Assad of Syria.
I arrived in France in the middle of February and found it to be cold, grey and unfriendly. I had no where to live and not much clue any more of why I was to study in France for a year instead of my beloved Middle East. But, in a very quick time, I found a very nice share house in the company of a Serb guy and and Italian guy and girl. We even had a view of La Tour Eifel from our bedroom window....oh Paris! so got used to that, went to my uni where I was to study some fairly random courses for the next year, mainly focused on improving my French. Found the courses fairly unstimulated and some of the students very aggravating which was more irritating in the cases where they we wearing cuff links or stilletos (depending on their sex). But had a couple of classes that didn't leave me feeling suicidal and one very nice teacher who taught me how to pass off as a man in even the poshest parts of the city. At some point I decied I needed to make some cash, so I took to working in an Irish pub at La Bastille, which was quite dull really, but I learnt how to make good Mohitos, so I have no real complaints. Oh and I got to eat the cheeseburgers that they sold for $25 free of charge!!!! France was fun, lots of nice exchange students from around Europe, and when the sun came out, lots of drinking cheap and good wine and cheese along the river Seine, or in the forest/park thingys they have. Met lots of great people (who I don't keep as close in contact as I should) and was pretty happy when I made the decision to stop paying 400 euro ($800) a month to share a bedroom in a boring part of Paris and move to Jordan.
So now we're down to the real stuff. To cut to the chase, I quickly remembered why I had fallen in love with the Middle East the first time (I had forgotten that intensity along with my Arabic) and decided that I had no wish to return to Paris to complete my second semester. So began the 2 month process of asking my uni in Australia to credit me for a semester there instead of in France. Also good was that Rian, who had moved into the house I was living in the same week as me, and was equally bessotted with Jordan, decided to extend her stay. So we both threw off our intended courses of study and enrolled in the highly renowned and internationally prestigious University of Jordan. Actually it's a beautiful campus of almost 40,000 students and it's quite a good place to study I reckon. My Arabic teachers were a little eratic and sometimes spontaneously didn't come to class, but I learnt lots, and at the same time improved my spoken Arabic (which is entirely different to the Arabic you get at school, on the news and in books). So that was a good semester. Had a bit of a falling in love episode, that was nice for a time, went back to Australia for christmas, came back, took exams, got stressed, realised that I needed to show my uni in Australia all the work I had done in Jordan in order to get credit for it and that it didn't look so impressive, so focused on that, and then decided to break up with boyfriend, got emotional and stressed about the uncertainty of my future (yeah my life is so tragically hard I know...) and ran off to Europe with Rian for 3 weeks where I increased my debts and also noticed that the debt collectors were after me. Went to Holland, a very nice country, Belgium and Israel (to very unfortunate bi-products of my travels) and France where I saw some good old friends, had a terrorist scare on the metro, drank wine and saw my brother who lives in Polland.
Have just come back to Jordan, and am relieved to find the sun is mainly present and it's not too cold at all for survival (Europe I think is an evolutionary challenge). I am passing my time with trying to live up to the Obamalutions, which are 86 resolutions for change that we do believe in, conceived on Obama Day of course. I also look at photos of my new baby sister Madeline, am starting at uni, and nervously waiting for an email from ANU telling me what my destiny is for this semester. It's an edgy time really.
I hope to stay in Jordan, it's a nice country with good people, and now that I have the structure of the Obamalutions, which make demands of me such as:
Must always have toilet paper in the house
Clean teeth daily
Yoga once a week
If we ever end up in prison, make the most of it
Approach a hero and assign a mentor.
So, I think life's looking up really. Mainly thanks to Obama.
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