Passports, Privilege, and Progress

Life is moving along, as it always does, and I am not sure where the time has gone.  Today marks the two month anniversary of my arrival in Amman.  Somedays it feels like I just arrived, and other days like I have been here for years.

Lately, I have been keenly aware of my nationality.  Living in the States, even traveling around the world I am aware of the place from where I come but it doesn’t permeate thorughout the concept of my identity.  I suppose that is because of the culture in which I grew up.  We are very individualistic, Americans that is, and except for defining historical moments, and before major events, we rarely identify ourselves by our nationality first...its usually quite far down the list - from my observation anyway.  I am Amanda, student, daughter, sister, friend, leftist, avid reader, political junkie, lover of languages, travel, and yoga.  In fact, when people ask me where I am from (and to prevent a lengthy explanation of my somewhat nomadic life) I tell them Chicago because that is where I lived and that is where my roots (parents) live. But here, I am an American.

My Arabic is improving, and I can hold a conversation with taxi drivers...they are a talkative group of people....but I am immediately recognized as a foreigner.  The first question they ask (after determining my destination)  is, “where are you from?”  Here is an example of typical conversation:

Cabbie: Where are you from?

Me: Chicago

Cabbie: Oh, America.  What are you doing here?  Are you working or a student?

Me: I am studying Arabic.

Cabbie: Very good.  Are you studying at the University of Jordan?

Me: Yes (I am not really but its easier than saying I am taking lessons from a private tutor)

Cabbie: Oh very good.  Are you married?

Me: Yes

Cabbie: To an American?

Me: No, to a Jordanian

Cabbie: Where is he from?  What does he do?

Its about this time where I begin to go into an explanation of what my fake Jordanian husband does.  Sometimes he is a student, finishing his studies.  Other times he is business person or even in international development.  The next question is usually, “Do you have any children?” and I say no, we are finishing our studies or something else.  More than once I have been asked whether my fake Jordanian husband is a Muslim and if I am a Christian.  And thankfully, usually I am close to my destination at this point and can stop the line of questioning there.

Disclaimer: I was told to tell taxi drivers I am married to a Jordanian because they are likely to back off if they think I have a husband from the region.

Normally, folks here are very welcoming once they find out what my nationality is, but it makes me incredibly uncomfortable.  I suppose this is a cultural idiosyncrasy I have to get used to.  

I am also singled out as an American at the office, and am being used for my very American sounding name.  I am doing this willingly, but it makes me incredibly aware of the privilege and the responsibility that comes with being Amanda the American.  Because I am from the States, people here - particularly in the professional realm - believe me to have more credibility than an Arab.  This is absolutely untrue, of course, and truly baffling to see in action.  People respond to an email coming from my email address but won’t respond to people who might have an Arab sounding name even though, in all reality, I have no idea what is going on most of the time.  Good thing I am fairly well versed in bullshitting - thanks to a long career in retail and formal training in the art of philosophy.  (Philosophy is much more than bullshitting, btw, but has granted me the training necessary to be able to think on my toes.)

And the final situation that made me feel all red, white, and blue was when I was asked to help someone get a visa to work in the States.  This individual is an Arab, not from Jordan, and doesn’t speak a word of English but I was going to help him fill out the application online and do whatever else needed to be done to get the process started for his visa.  Apparently there was a bit of a misunderstanding because he left his passport on my desk one morning, expecting that I could get him a visa.  Let me clarify - he believed that I could...as an American....pull a visa out of who knows where, stamp it and TADAA!  Welcome to the U.S.  

Needless to say, I could not help this man, but it was a wake up call (along with all the other scenarios that make me feel like a star on the flag), in that there are still many people around the world who have this perception of Americans that is unrealistic and idealistic....think typical American movie - yeah thats how we are perceived.  Well let me quote a movie that is more accurate for my situation, truly a pillar of my generation: "you ain't got no job, you ain't got no money.."  well most of you know the rest, and if you don't, it will get lost in translation, trust me.

I understood before how blessed and privileged I am for not only having the friends and family I do, but also for having been born in the United States.  I don't necessarily enjoy being reminded of it on a daily, sometimes hourly basis, but I guess that is the nature of privilege sometimes.  

So in honor of Halloween tomorrow, I will not be Amanda the American but instead I will be Amandita the Latina.  It will be an interesting social experiment, don’t you think?  

P.S.  Below is a picture of the citadel at night and the moon.  Truly an incredible sight, though the picture does not do it justice.

Daily Life

It seems though it has been forever since my last post, and I guess it has.  I seem to have been consumed by the day to day existence in Amman, though I can't exactly tell you what I have been doing!

Last week was the tour de markets.  We went to the Balad, which is the downtown, and one of the older parts of Amman.  Balad is filled with people bustling through the streets and unique smells - coffee, spices, and fruits to name a few.  There are scarves and knick knacks galore, and although we didn't spend much time there, I am looking forward to going back to do some more exploring.

Then onto Rainbow Street - one of the most famous streets in Amman.  Home to trendy coffee shops and expatriates, this street was much more low key than the Balad.  Graffiti artists were tagging the wall in front of the British Council, which was quite amazing.  There isn't much graffiti here, not like in other parts of the world I have seen, and the buildings are often the same beige color, so the lively and vibrant color scheme seen below is a nice change.

Graffiti artists "tagging" the wall in front of the British Council.

Another part of the graffiti wall.

Then of course we did the tourist thing and took pictures of Amman from the lookout.  Though I don't feel like much of a tourist anymore since I can give directions to the cabbies in Arabic - which is a feat in and of itself.  Just a word of warning if you ever plan to move or visit this part of the region, taxi drivers do not know the names of streets.  This is partly because streets have two names because they tried to change things, unifying them, but it didn't work out.  So in order to get from point A to point B, you must have landmarks.  So I live by the Ramada hotel and Wahbeh Tamari school in Shmeisani.  And if that doesn't work, thenI really have to break out my newly acquired Arabic directional vocabulary.

View of Amman from a lookout on Rainbow street.

Another view of Amman from Rainbow street.

And then we finally landed at Suuq Jara, a small artisan market with a lot of wonderful and beautiful pieces of jewelry, art, and other fun things.  When I was there last, I bought a painting, but this time I opted for accessories, because I love them.  So below is a picture of the scarf with scarf bling and matching earrings that I splurged on - though both were less than $15.  And to boot, they were giving out samples of watermelon juice....umm delicious.

After purchasing goodies at the market, we continued on Rainbow street and stopped in a little book store.  My tutor recommended getting some children's books to help with my Arabic, so low and behold, I found some children's books.  And to top it all off, the bookstore had a coffee shop, so I ordered myself a cafe Americano and was almost in heaven.  Heaven arrived at our next stop - the ice cream store.  Between jewelry, books, coffee, and ice cream, I couldn't have asked for much more.

Other than exploring markets, I have been exploring the work culture here by doing some immersion experimentation at my adoptive Jordanian family's (hope they don't mind that I adopted them) business.  I think I will leave those observations for another blog though.

Along with cultural immersion, shopping, and markets, I have found time to create and try some new recipes as well as meet and hang out with new expat friends.  They hail from around the globe  and it is truly incredible how many expats there are here.  Everywhere I go, there they are.  I suppose they are saying the same thing in their heads when they see me.  Me and my newly acquired expat friends try to see each other once a week for dinner, it is nice and a good break from the thinking in too many languages thing.  How exhausting!

Well, back to my children's book....I am reading one about a monkey now....I think his name is Fahman.

Salaam