An All-Girls School in Amman

My students are called Dina, Sarah, Zein and Nour. They are beautiful girls with full chestnut curls and large almond eyes. Most are Jordanian, although within this majority, many identify as Palestinian. Although born and raised in Jordan, the Palestinian-Jordanians must carry different passports than those with Jordanian bloodlines. Those recently from Palestine are generally refugees from the Gaza bombardment. Those not from Palestine are Iraqi refugees, although several students are from Iran and Sri Lanka. All have seen oppression, violence and discrimination in ways that most Americans of our generations have not and hopefully will never know. They write about relating to Anne Frank because they also hid in basements during bombings. They ask me why Americans hate them so much. And yet they also know each word to every Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift song.

They call me "Miss," and whine it as, "Miiiiiiisssssss," whenever I assign homework or administer an exam. They love to chat with me and with each other and cannot make themselves stop even when they know they should. It drives me crazy, but on the scale of classroom management issues, I can hardly complain. They stay seated (usually), do their work (usually), and never challenge me in threatening or shocking ways. They are much more disciplined about academics than their counterparts in the U.S. Most girls study their English lessons after school every day and come with questions the next. They check well in advance about topics that might be on exams and they often turn in work early. Moreover, they bring unassigned presentations to class and beg to present to their peers. Considering that I must cram in an astonishing amount of curriculum and test the girls monthly, I sadly don't often have much time to let them.

We are coming to the end of the year and they will be moving across campus to the secondary building next year. They are growing so fast physically and emotionally. They look like little women now and not like overgrown kids, and their writings show that they have a lot on their minds. At the beginning of the year, they were terrified to write, but now they proudly present me with poems and essays that they have written in their free time. I'm flattered that they trust me with their thoughts and feelings. I remember the traumas of being twelve years old and in the sixth grade and I thank God that these girls are in such a nurturing and protected environment.

They wear ugly uniforms, are not allowed to wear make-up and must tie back their long hair into plain ponytails. Dating is so far into the realm of "absolutely not" that they focus on the normal friendship dramas of their age and willingly participate in their frequent family gatherings. They beg me to be helpers as I set up the classroom or carry stacks of books to the teachers' lounge. And they are so generous with hugs. I love that I can pat them on their heads or wipe their tears without fear of repercussion, where in the U.S. teachers literally cannot touch the children for fear of a lawsuit. Here, the parents really do respect and trust us as teachers. We communicate freely and never critically. They know we love their girls and will do everything possible to keep them safe, educate them and help them grow into the strong women that surround us at our school as administrators, teachers, and teenage students.

Whirlwind September

Semptember was a crazy month filled with school commitments, meeting new friends, and getting to know the ins and outs of Amman and beyond.

First, thoughts on previous posts, and then a brief update of what's been going on.

Reflections on Previous Posts
Now that I've gotten used to the sensory overload that is Amman, some things that really stood out in the beginning have become ordinary parts of my day. I want to start by adding/augmenting my post on beauty. I said, "It is incredibly taboo for women to show their hair in public according to Islam." Ok, this is technically true, but many Muslim women do show their hair in public. Hijab is normal and no hijab is normal. Although the vast majority of Muslim women in the traditional neighborhood where I live do cover (e.g., long overcoat, head scarf, sometime even burkas and gloves), once you pass into west Amman, or "the other side of the wadi (valley)" as I like to say, who chooses to cover and how she chooses to do so is much more individual. Additionally, while outsiders cannot see into salons for females, they are everywhere and easily identified by the fashion posters plastered across the windows. I go all the time! This is probably a shock to those of you used to my slacker beauty ways in the U.S., but I've discovered that a little personal pampering can do wonders for self-confidence, the bonding with girl friends is so fun, and I think it's great that many of the Arab women I've met take such good care of themselves (and manage families and jobs simultaneously).

The status of Pacific Islanders in Amman is still something I struggle with. This controversy is quite similar to the one in the U.S. about the status of lower class Latino immigrants. On one hand, these workers make small wages for demanding work and are not always treated well (and sometimes quite terribly). But on the other hand, they have chosen to come here and perform this work because it earns more money than they can make in their home countries. So transnationalism and the global economy prevail--the money these workers earn barely makes ends meet in an expensive city, what little they can save is sent directly to their home countries, their home country economy now depends on this money, and the host country economy now depends on their labor. So the cycle continues. I think creating safeguards for fair wages and human rights should be a huge priority of the 21st century as we attempt to comprehend and regulate the forces of a completely globalized economy. The compromise many people (including myself) make here are to tip service workers well (e.g., the women who do such an awesome job at the salon) and treat those who work in our homes with kindness and respect (e.g., the woman who cleans my house, when I can afford her!).

What's Been Going On
In brief, I love my school. My coworkers are so warm, dedicated and supportive. Our principal maintains an careful balance for meeting the needs of students, parents and teachers. This is not easy to do, but it's so integral to a successful school. And my students are just lovely. For both personal and academic reasons, I am finding a great deal of value in separated schooling for girls and boys. I will expand on this in a later post, because it is certainly a controversial topic.

I have met wonderful locals and expats. The family from whom I rent my flat is incredibly gracious and always helps when I have questions or need assistance. I am becoming a regular at my corner ducan (store)--the owners are so patient with my elementary Arabic! And I've discovered an unspoken expat code of ethics in Amman. We welcome newcomers warmly, extend any assistance we can provide, and maintain open invitations to meet for coffee or a bite to eat. I've also met locals who have studied abroad or work for international companies that travel in our circles and adhere to the same code. Several acquaintances have grown into true friendships and my social life is quite fruitful.

Mid-Spetember marked the end of Ramadan and lengthy Eid vacation. My school generously provided a full week off, so I was able to explore Jordan extensively and have time to relax. I will post pictures shortly!