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.

From My Bedroom Window

Twin pines

Divided by iron and time.

Upright, steadfast,

Knowing.

Pillars of proof

that Mother Earth

And Father Faith

Had an interconnected plan.

Watching over the world

As humans, like tiny ants,

Tunnel the soil around their roots

And build barricades

Between their branches.

Of the same seed,

Yet taught from first sprout

That this branch or that

Makes them indubitably different;

Learning as seedlings that it is God's Will

That they must gaze at each other

Skeptically

From a distance.

Yet tiny threads still connect them

From underneath

And the same sun shines on them

From above.

They sway uncertain,

Rocking for comfort,

As breezes whisper reminders

That their underlings separate them

Artificially

And disobey

The true Laws of Life.

Recent Trips

Thanks to Eid, which marks the end of Ramadan, I recently had a weeklong vacation from school. Since the school where I teach is technically Christian, we have a split weekend work schedule. This means that we have Friday off for Muslims and Sunday off for Christians...and therefore we work on Saturdays. There are pluses and minuses for this schedule, and I try to look at the bright side of things (I work for four straight days instead of five, I have two days each week that feel like Fridays). But the major minus is that I can never take weekend trips since I only have one day off at a time. So Eid vacation was really my first opportunity to explore my new country.

I decided to split up the week into several small trips that combined relaxation and exploration. First, a large group of us took a road trip north for a jam-packed day of seeing ruins. Major highlights included: Roman ruins in Jerash, Islamic castle in Ajloun, and Roman ruins and a view of the Sea of Galilee in Um Qais. Each stop was unique and the depth of history within Jordan is spectacular.

Next, we went to the Dead Sea for a day of relaxation and playing in the mud. We paid to use the pool and have beach access at the Movenpick, and although the 40JD fee was steep, it was totally worth it!

And finally, I decided to explore beyond Jordan and crossed the border into Syria for a quick weekend in the old city of Damascus.

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!

Cave/Grotto...Potato/Potahto

View when standing at front door. This is perhaps my dining room? I want to start the tour by saying that these pictures were taken after my cleaning lady scrubbed this little place for SEVEN HOURS (I helped and fed her...so I witnessed her miracles).

The kitchen and bathroom are side by side, which is convenient since I don't have a bathroom sink. The plus side is that I have to keep my dishes washed or I'll have nowhere to wash my face!


Close-up of my cute little stove and ancient frig. I have no storage or counterspace, though, so cooking is a bit of a challenge.

Also wanted to show my toilet/shower combo. They are literally on top of one another. And yes, I have to keep my toilet paper in the shower caddy because it gets wet anywhere else.

My bedroom/sitting room. It's actually a good size, but the window with the white curtain is my only source of outside light. There used to be a gaudy green curtain there, but I changed it to white to at least let a little sunlight in. We did a window test, so I'm pretty sure the neighbors can't see in! The window above the tv (which doesn't work) just passes through to my dining area (which is a very dark and narrow space). There is usually a dark green carpet down, but my cleaning lady scrubbed it by hand and it's drying outside. It closes the room in a lot, but the tile is kindda cold, so I will put it back down.

And I just wanted to close the tour with aquick glimpse of the fantastic fabric of the chair and loveseat that I decided to cover. This place was a dark green disaster, but I think I've made it livable for the time being.

The rent is so cheap and I am getting attached to my surroundings, but the lack of sunlight in here and the bathroom situation might be the deal-breakers. I've put word on the street that I'm looking, so we'll see what happens....

Beauty Schooled

I had to move flats unexpectedly last week and am still waiting for the landlady to set up internet in my new flat. Consequently, the blog has moved to the back burner and my addiction to this form of technology overall has been severely tested. Also, when I am able to pick up a slow internet connection at school, I need to be doing things like getting ready for students to come on Monday, rather than updating my blog or chatting online. But now I have so much to share! Let’s see if it is physically possible for me to write concisely (unlikely).

Well, I indulged in a girly spa day last week, which provided a fascinating peek into the culture of beauty in Jordan. Appointments are not needed due to the gazillion beauty salons throughout the city. However, you have to look for them carefully because they are often hidden down side alleys and windows are always covered. Learning to read Arabic always helps, too ;-)

It is incredibly taboo for women to show their hair in public according to Islam, so slipping into the salon with my girl friend was even more intimate than in the U.S. Filipinos comprise the vast majority of the service employees in Jordan, so I was not surprised that my nail technician was Filipina. It was a mixed sentiment for me, considering I have very close to Filipino friends in the U.S. In one sense I felt incredibly guilty, but in another sense I was relieved to interact with someone who felt familiar to me. The woman doing my nails, who I will call Mary, loved my extremely limited Tagalog vocabulary and ability to discuss which region of the country she is from (turned out to be Mindanao in the south). Perhaps it is the anthropologist in me, but we were soon divulging about our families, relationships, and experiences as outsiders in the country. She was so friendly and practically invited me to her house for dinner when I inquired about Filipino restaurants and where to buy pork in Amman. My friend and I eagerly noted her tips and decided we would explore Little Manila later that evening. In the meantime, I sipped Arabic coffee, observed me surrounding, and chatted with Mary and the other nail technicians.

While observing the goings-on around me, I noticed that many of the women (and teenagers) entering the salon were accompanied by female friends and/or family and almost all wore hijab (hair coverings) of high quality fabric, loose designer coats, and oversized sunglasses. I feel so disconnected from these women when I see them on the streets or bump into them in crowded stores, so watching them peel off their barriers and reveal their fashionable clothes and styled hair reminded me how similar we really are. It was also nice to feel as though I finally fit in and didn’t stand out as a half-naked sinner (due to loose-fitting short sleeved shirts and exposed hair). I had a conversation with a female American teacher at my school married to a fairly traditional Arab who explained that the beauty salon is one of the few places some women can go without being escorted by a male family member. And although she can go by herself, she is questioned incessantly by her mother-in-law about where she is going and when she will be back. I mention this not in condescension, because I do not believe it is my right to judge the way things are simply done within some families (although certainly not all), but I am baffled when I meet intellectually engaging women who live with this one aspect in their lives that I cannot relate to.

Unfortunately, the intimacy among the nail technicians and women getting their nails done was broken when I went downstairs to get my hair cut by male hair stylists. Having been in the country for two weeks, I have already built a wall of apprehension between myself and men, so it really was awkward to have two of them touching me. Moreover, I felt annoyed that they had to be the revered people in the salon. I’m sure the language barrier also added to the disconnect. I accept full blame for that since I am in an Arab country and can hardly speak the language (working on that!). And also in their defense, the male stylists were professional, appropriately friendly, and provided me with a quick yet precise trim and thorough blow dry for 20JD ($28USD). My highlights are in major need of touching-up, so I may be back for that soon. And although their hair is often covered, I have discovered that many women here are sporting the same blonde highlights as me, so I will be in good hands :-)

Also, I learned that there is a tiny salon in my neighborhood (that I fondly call the “barrio”) where I can get a blowout (which involves getting your hair washed and blow dried super-straight, for those of you not in the know) for 4JD (usually $20+USD in the U.S.), so I may be indulging in that regularly since the hard water and dry air is turning my tresses into a giant mess of stringy frizz. And my one last beauty confession is that I now apply ample black eyeliner and mascara every morning. I have yet to meet a woman that does not do this….so I am jumping on the bandwagon!

Desert Gardens

Two days ago, Anne and I spent the morning watching movies and snacking on hummos, falafel, and taboon bread--which is basically a giant, extra thin pita that is bought piping hot from the local baker, who folds it several times into a big pile of carbohydrate yumminess. We had left her front door open to catch a breeze; however, the local children interpreted this as an invitation to enter when we were only halfway through Kite Runner. Unable to resist their eagerness, we let them pull us into daylight for play. Deciding that a "sprucing up" of Anne's garden was in order, we dressed the children in old t-shirts, distributed shovels, and started digging. Unfortunately, I had to leave in midst of mudpie-making and mystery plantings, but Anne reported later that the children were so helpful that they cleaned the courtyard afterward, swept her floors, AND did her dishes! Not only are they adorable, but incredibly helpful :-)



What was actually planted and whether it will really grow remains to be seen....

On a slightly similar note (not really), the next day, we took a trek out to the fruit and veggie souq (market) in the outskirts of Amman. I was skeptical when the taxi dropped us at a dillapidated warehouse alongside a dusty, industrial highway. However, upon entering, my senses were flooded with heaps of vibrant, aromatic produce and cheerful chatter of daily goings-on. Vendors smiled when I pointed questioningly to miniature purple plums or ample nectarines the color of sunsets, and reached into secret stashes to reveal their most succulent offerings. Exercising restraint, I only bought a handful of plums, four nectarines, and a bushel of arugula....for a grand total of about $3USD.

And my kitchen now smells scrumptious!