I have been here in Amman, Jordan for a little more than a week now, and I am only just sitting down to write this first blog post. Not to say that I haven’t been writing. Oh no. This entire week has been like trying to drink from a fire hydrant and not drown in the sheer amount of it; all the while, reflecting on my experience of trying to stay afloat. Okay, that sounds very dramatic, but it’s not far from the truth. It still strikes me that is has only been a week, I feel like we’ve had a month worth of information thrown at us. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure I’ve had more self-reflection in these past few days than I’ve had in my entire lifetime, but we won’t go into that right now, that’s more of a blog post number two kind of topic.
This past week has consisted of 10 and a half hours of Arabic within three days, numerous taxi rides of different degrees of interest, relying on Bedouin robes for warmth in our apartment, too much coffee, relational needs conversations with 20 people, adopting/learning cultural behaviors (still in process, and will be for the entirety of this program), a city tour with a tour guide (interesting, since they emphasize making this semester a pilgrimage and not for tourism), wandering the streets blindly and hoping for the best… *pause for a breath*... hummus, falafel, mansaf, shwarma, Merna meals, hours in the classroom talking about how to relate to Muslims and how to be culturally accepting, learning on how to suspend judgement, listening to how fascinating God made each individual person, finding out that I am not as culturally competent as I thought, observing Islamic prayer, reflecting on pretty much every single thought that has gone through my mind, starting to touch on the outer layers of getting to know people, and saving the best for last, getting sick (just migraine, cough, sore throat type deal, no bad shwarma yet) ! I think you can now see why it has felt more like a month than just a week, and that rushed description probably only covered half of it.
I almost didn’t want to write this blog post because as I have said before, I think I am a bit burnt out with self-reflection. However, one of my goals of the semester is to blog, so I will make an effort, no matter how uninspired I am at the moment.
I’ve learned lot in this past week, about myself, about the culture here and how to accept and adapt, about how to relate to others… how to tell a taxi driver to go to 2nd circle— important stuff, you know? I think throughout this week, I have been able to gather more of an idea of what I want to get out of this semester— Oh man, I’m already exhausted with just saying that… So, I am not going to talk about that (Hey, at least I made an effort). However, I will talk about the city.
I have never been much of a city person. Growing up in South Lake Tahoe, I was used to being surrounded by trees and looking up at the night sky to see the stars. I was used to no street lights and seeing someone I know in every part of town. The city doesn’t have much of those things. Buildings replace trees, street lights block the light of the stars, and it’s rare to see a familiar face. Maybe that is why I have always felt uncomfortable in cities— a combination of being outside my comfort zone, unfamiliarity, and feeling like I don’t quite fit in. It’s funny that coming into a city, in a different country, in a place that I know very little about, a place that has a stigma around it of being dangerous, and a place that is totally outside my comfort zone, has changed my heart— even just a little bit— towards cities. I have found myself finding beauty in this city. It may be in the uniformity of the shapes and colors of the buildings, yet their obvious differences, or the hustle and the bustle of the streets that is chaotic and unorganized, yet works. It may be the colors and smells in the balad (downtown) that assault the senses in a stimulating way. It may be the quiet of the neighborhood streets that I live in, or the way things shut down on Fridays. I know it is definitely the many hills that Amman sits on, giving you an overlook of the city; and overtime, I think the people will make this city one of the warmest I’ve ever been to.
I don’t think I can ever say in my life that I have been able to look at a city in the daylight and feel the same tug in my heart that happens when I look at mountains covered in snow, or witnessing the power of a rushing river. But that has changed. I’ll give you a small illustration.
My classroom for Arabic sits on the fourth floor of a building already on top of a hill. It is the corner classroom, so the large windows look out over the sprawling city and its many layers, and sometimes, when the sun goes down, the sandstone colored buildings take on some of its orange glow, and everything becomes peaceful— The effect is almost breathtaking. I can now say, that I have felt that tug in my heart, or maybe my soul, for the beauty of this city. It has surprised me more than anything else so far, and I am happy for it.
It’s about time I start appreciating other dwelling places.
(taken with my iPhone, sorry for the image quality)