26

Apr

Accepting Unknowing

What has happened in the last 2 months? Not enough.

A job was quit. A stable Arabic tutor was unfound. GRE books gathered dust, spines remaining stiffly intact.

I haven’t known how to conduct my life since I’ve returned from Jordan. This is one of those “new grad” things that I fiercely hoped I would be an exception to – because I could taste the bitter agony of it before I graduated one year ago. Holy shit. It’s been a year since I graduated from college. I know, it’s OK not to know. But damn it, it’s frustrating.

Besides my family, I have three friends in this city who all have great things going for them at this time in their lives. I want that too. I want the great thing for me at this point in my life. Some might argue that this unknowing is my great thing right now. I get that, but I only get it about 20% of the time because there is so much to DO and unknowing needs to suck it. I have so much energy that it’s exhausting. How is it possible to simultaneously feel absurdly unchallenged and overwhelmingly spent?

People tell me I’d be good at jobs like theirs. It’s a compliment. A close friend put it like this, “You have the qualities that would make you really good at these jobs.” Wow. That’s awesome. But here’s the thing, I know what I’m not good at and that’s the thing that so many people accept or bear or whatever the hell that motivates them to do their job every day. I’m not good at office jobs.  I’m not good at jobs that require me to spend most of my day in sitting in front of a computer. By myself. Doing a job I could have been trained to do long before drowning in college debt.

Please don’t hate me. I know that these are the jobs that so many people do. Because they have to. Because this is the way it is. Because there is room for growth. Because they’re not as snobby as I am. But hear me out, I’ve had practice in these jobs for three years and I wish I could convey to you how wrong they have always, always, always felt to me. Like REALLY wrong. No other interns or colleagues hated the lifestyle as much as I did. These jobs aren’t for “lesser” people, that’s not what I am saying at all. I just can’t accept that they are for me because it all feels SO wrong.

I want to like these jobs. I want to be happy like the people around me, but I’m not. I don’t fit in. It’s not a good feeling.

So, I’m trying to find where I do fit in. I’ll let you know where I end up — probably with some dirt under my fingernails. Hopefully, really happy and with a great story to tell.

NOTE: This isn’t a matter of hard work, it’s a matter of quality of life. If I have the opportunity to improve my quality of life, without hurting anyone else, I will. In a second. Accepting unknowing is one of the most difficult things we can do in our lives.

31 days ago Short URL 2 Comments

Life After College

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16

Feb

Book Review: Love, Inshallah.

Image Borrowed from aspieweb.net

Like a “Chicken Soup for the Muslim-American Woman’s Soul and/or Anyone Interested in Learning More About Muslim-American Women,” this book filled me up. Clearly, my next job title is Official Book Name-r.

There is no scientific evidence to support my thought that a large reason why I enjoyed Love, Inshallah was because almost 1/3 of the contributors (not including the editors) are from, attended college, and/or reside in California.  And I too am a young, Muslim-American woman from California.

I enjoyed all of the stories in the compilation, but I felt represented when I saw that there were multiple and varied stories from Muslim-American and Californian women. California Muslims get a bad rap sometimes. I’ve heard people refer to “California Islam” before, and it frustrates me — there is only one Islam! Any “changes” that we see are the imperfections of this world and its people.

California: the liberal, loose, too-open-to-be-taken-seriously state. In some respects, this claim might be true. After all, the two women who started the Love, Inshallah project are from California and they were open to all kinds of stories from Muslim-American women. That’s what makes this compilation so good, and so real. Dating Muslim? Sexually active, unmarried Muslim? Lesbian Muslim? I can hear people muttering astaghfirullah’s and I haven’t even clicked the “Publish” button yet.

The contributors to Love, Inshallah are real Muslim-American women dealing with real life and love. This is an important book for dispelling stereotypes throughout the American community, which includes the Muslim-American community.

Some non-Muslim, Americans may realize that every Muslim woman is not, in fact, Arab or covering her hair or different from other Americans in emotions or experiences.

Some Muslim-Americans may realize that topics like dating, premarital sex, and homosexuality exist within our community even when we avoid them or try to pray them away.

What I hope will come from such realizations  is more dialogue and more action to promote a more inclusive America.

So California is a liberal state.The editors of Love, Inshallah were open to even the most controversial Muslim-American stories. It’s time for real Muslim-Americans  to be taken seriously*.

 

 

*Just to save my own behind, that’s not a threat. I’m just giving it a dramatic end. Read the book, it’s good.

100 days ago Short URL 1 Comment

Book Review

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08

Dec

In the Land Where Sidewalks are Constructed for Trees

Image Borrowed

Most of my friends in Amman know this: I want to stay here. My Arabic classes are over and some great people are moving away, but for once I’m not interested in the next thing. I like this thing. This Middle East/Islamic/Arabic thing.

For the record, I’m not being humble when I say; I’m not good at Arabic. Yes, yes it’s a difficult language and most people have a lot of trouble with it…blah blah blah. I appreciate the consolation but I don’t want a pity party. I just want to get it. I want Arabic to make sense. I want to be able to read out loud without having to falter over words and randomly guess at the voweling. And then after that, I want to be able to read out loud and understand what I’m reading at the same time.

I want to be able to have a conversation with someone and use the dual tense without second-guessing myself and without unknowingly creating my own language. I want to feel Arabic the way I feel Farsi. So, I need to dedicate more of myself. I need to spend less time worrying about it and more time working at it.

Laughing is much better to bounce back from than worrying. Worrying is thick, and leaves a residue. You can get out from it but you’re constantly finding pieces stuck to your clothes, attracting lint and the like. The other day, I could only laugh at myself. Someone asked me a question and all I understood was “Arabiya” which could mean a) Arabic, the language or b) Arab (female). I assumed they were asking if I spoke Arabic but in fact, it was the million dinar question: Are you Arab? We can all understand the woman’s confusion when I essentially answered, “Yes, a little bit Arab.”

She laughed. I stood smiling. And 20 seconds later, I got it and I laughed too. She was gone, so it was just me. Laughing. But still, laughing is better than worrying.

Besides Arabic, I just love Jordan and being in the Middle East. I feel closer to the world and what’s happening in it. I guess I was as far I as I could get before, all the way in California. I miss things in California like my family and friends, the beach, driving my car, and little things I took for granted before. But I appreciate random things here, like taxi drivers stopping to buy coffee and cigarettes during my ride and how sidewalks are constructed for trees and people usually resort to walking on the street. Yes, I appreciate these things. The American in me should be annoyed that my time is being wasted and that city planning isn’t up to par – but she’s actually quite impressed.

When a taxi driver asks me if it’s OK to stop for some coffee, and, would I like any? I think it’s sweet. I think it’s amazing that time isn’t always money and that we always have time for coffee and a smoke (for the sake of prose, of course). I don’t have a problem walking alongside cars to get where I’m going because you know what? Any non-cactus tree that can survive in the desert deserves a sidewalk more than my feet do.

So there you have it. Maybe I’m just 22, an idealist, and in love with everything I’ve never known. I’m OK with that and for now, I want to stay right where I am. Whether or not that is actually happening is TBD. In the meantime, I’m off to Beirut to see my best friend – who I can’t believe I’ve made it this long without.

170 days ago Short URL 3 Comments

Amman

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09

Nov

Petra

Petra - Treasury

Petra was awesome. It was one of my many moments of, “Oh my God, I’m in the Middle East. This is real life.”

I have to be honest though, I had no idea what to expect at Petra. If anything, I imagined a very crowded open area with branches of different sites to explore. But it wasn’t really like that. Petra is literally a huge city that you have to walk through to really see. Bring your walking shoes and some snacks. The massive, detailed structures carved into the rock formations are incredible. At Petra, I was still in a very Western mindset where I expected things to be very organized and linear. There was a ticket kiosk, but after that we were free to roam through the city. It wasn’t crowded when we went in the morning. People, apparently Bedouins, constantly ask you if you want to ride a horse, donkey or camel. And do you want to buy some postcards? Or maybe some jewelry or other souvenirs from the many shops in Petra, on flat surfaces and on the side of epic hiking trails?

If Americans owned Petra, there would be signs everywhere. Don’t touch this. Don’t climb that. No flash photography. Please regulate your breathing and walk on your hands. Too much? Actually, as I watched people climb haphazardly through rock-buildings and rub their oily hands on their walls, the baby anthropologist inside me cringed. Every touch contributes to the deterioration of this historical site. My hand isn’t going to cause the entire structure to turn to dust. But then again, it is. Imagine the thousands of people who visit Petra every day. If each person rubs the same stone just once, that stone will quickly wear down and it wont be the natural stone it once was. It will be the stone that many people touched. Its history changed by (wo)man.

I climbed and touched, too. Sorry, anthropology masters of the world, it’s hard to resist.

The Petra trip also granted me my Jordanian driving experience. I honked and sped through the streets of Amman, down the highways and through the towns of Jordan, and back again. The rental we ended up with was a manual Kia Picanto. And yes, the car is as small and feeble as its name suggests. At one point on the winding roads of Petra’s mountains, the car stubbornly skidded to the edge of a cliff – the short bumper hovering over an impending doom and the balding tires barely grasping to the last bits of sand. It was scary to say the least. It made me realize how quickly and stupidly life can end. But how long can we really think about these things? Popped the car in reverse and carried on, grateful to be alive and looking forward to breakfast.

Coming home to Amman felt like just that – coming home. It’s comforting to know that for the first time, I have a home away from California. It makes the world feel a little smaller, which is the best remedy for homesickness.

199 days ago Short URL Comments

Amman

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16

Oct

What I’m Learning From Arabic, When I Don’t Feel I’m Actually Learning Arabic

Image Borrowed

Graduating from college is an accomplishment. I hope that I don’t usually take the time to “bask in glory,” but this last year, I was honestly happy to get my B.S. in anthropology. Then I decided to embark on learning an ancient language, Arabic. Just in case my ego took too much space after college, I would like you all to know that in the last five months, Arabic has done her part beautifully and put me in my place. I have realized that I really am nothing in the context of many disciplines and areas of life. I don’t mean this in a victimized, “I am worthless to society” way. But, learning Arabic has given me a better idea of the breadth of what exists in the world and how young and inexperienced I still am — and will always be to some extent.

In elementary school, the realization that I forgot my homework opened a reservoir of emotions and tears. Don’t laugh. The world will end because my long-division worksheet was left on the kitchen table. The last time I remember this happening was 4th grade. By 6th grade, I cared a helluva lot less because I didn’t take my teacher seriously — it was a slippery slope from there.

Arabic makes me doubt my intelligence, frustrates me and inspires remarkable ideas that some might call procrastination. Much of the time, I don’t feel like I’m learning anything — but that’s when I’m actually strengthening a coping skill that I’ve taken for granted the past 10 years. When I’m not learning Arabic, Arabic is teaching me how to keep it together.

There are moments where you’re reading a passage, and you’re so overwhelmed by all of the vocabulary that you don’t know, that you can’t even comprehend the few words that you do know. Your pronunciation falters simultaneously with any confidence you’ve managed to retain. You begin to mix up letters and you’re praying that the overeager student across from you doesn’t yell out and correct you because you cannot take that right now. This is when IT happens. You feel your cheeks flush and the inhale through your nose is so hot and clear, it hurts.

This is when I hold my breath and then breathe really deep to calm myself, because the one thing Arabic will not get out of me is a public breakdown. We all know that there isn’t just a tear or two. If I start crying, I’m crying about everything in the world that has gone wrong in the last 150 years.

And how do you explain this to people? No, I’m just tired. And I need to eat. And I just need some exercise. And. And. And…

So instead of going through that, I swallow more pride, always surprised that there was anything left, and I do all of those things. I take a nap. I eat. I do lunges and dance around my apartment for exercise. And then after a blog post and a shower, I go back to it.

I go back to Arabic because I love it. It challenges everything I have ever known about myself as a student and as a human being. This is not something that I can put some work and practice into and fairly easily or at least predictably, be rewarded with success. Yes, those things are involved in learning Arabic but for me, learning this language is taking every part of me. In four years of undergrad, I never worked this hard or experienced this kind of self-doubt. I have thought, “What am I doing? I want to go home.” But I never say it aloud because I can’t quit.

I have no idea why I love this language that is so good at kicking my ass (sorry, Mama), but I do.

223 days ago Short URL Comments

Amman/Learning and Education

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30

Sep

Culinary Adventures in Amman

Mansaf - National dish of Jordan

I’m sorry for the gap in blogging. I didn’t have consistent Internet for a while. And then I got homesick. And then I got lazy. But now I’m back, loving Amman, and currently posted at Turtle Green Tea Garden on Rainbow Street.

There is much great food to be had in Amman, both Jordanian and international. The photo at the top is of a dish called Mansaf – a cultural highlight of Jordanian cuisine. My first mansaf experience was at Al-Quds Restaurant in the Balad, or Downtown. The balad is where you get a real look at life in Amman: families strolling by restaurants and bootleg DVD stores, the smell of ‘argeeleh (hookah) and cigarettes in the air, and the enticing display windows of Jordanian bakeries. It’s the kind of scene that will make you love this town. So in such a true part of the city, of course I would find the country’s traditional dish.

Mansaf is essentially lamb meat, stewed with spices and a liquid yogurt sauce called jameed, over a soft bed of rice and a bread, specific to the dish, called marquq. What really gives mansaf its unique and delicious flavor is the yogurt sauce, which you douse your meat and rice with when it’s ready to eat. Some people don’t like mansaf because of the yogurt sauce but from what I’ve heard, it’s most because they find the idea of yogurt on warm food to be odd. Jameed has a nutty flavor to it and with the crunch from the toasted almonds it makes for a perfect dish, full of flavor.

My mansaf at Al-Quds was good, but nothing to rave about. I can say that I truly love mansaf after having it at my Jordanian family’s house! They were wonderful to show me how it’s made and the homemade version is definitely better than the restaurant version. Authentic mansaf is traditionally served on a large platter that everyone shares from. This is how I had it the second time. No pictures because…I was busy eating.

Other delicious food includes kinafeh, a crunchy, cheesy, sweet dessert. Consider it the Jordanian cheesecake – except it is much sweeter! You definitely need some tea or coffee to enjoy kinafeh (pictured below).

Kinafeh

My mother will also be happy to know that I’m cooking. And it’s tasty!

Until next time, ma salaama habayibs!

239 days ago Short URL Comments

Amman

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13

Sep

Al-Pasha Hamam – Amman, Jordan

Hamams are awesome. Word on the shari’a (that’s “street” in Arabic) is that not all hamams are awesome because some are dirty. But Al-Pasha Hamam (near Rainbow Street) is awesome. The baby anthropologist in me was a little upset that I fed into the entire experience so much, but to Al-Pasha’s credit they did a really good job of transporting me to Turkey, circa 1580 CE. Or so I’d like to think…because I haven’t actually read anything about Turkey or hamams that I remember. I just got that date from Wikipedia. Anyways…

As soon as you walk into Al-Pasha, you notice the furniture and the décor of the large lobby. You have no idea what Turkish hamam décor is like, but the set-up at the hamam will satisfy your foggy stereotypes of the exotic and the oriental. There are a lot of earthy colors with splashes of red in rugs and upholstery. The whole room has that overcrowded bazaar feel, with the furniture and the trinkets – everything a little old and worn, but beautiful because you trust that this must be the way it is.

The magic dies when you’re led into a modern day locker room with florescent lighting. Don’t worry, it’ll come back. An Egyptian woman motions at you to change into a bathing suit, or something you don’t mind getting wet, and offers you plastic slippers. Now the fun begins. Walk through an archway into a large, dark room. The lighting can be described as “romantic” because any flaws you were worried about showing in the locker room, you can forget about now. Now, you’re in the hamam.

The air is wet and warm, but not humid or sticky. There is a beautiful, large Jacuzzi in the middle of the room, with a domed ceiling that has recessed lights, colored to look like gems. Marble tables line the room, where other women are getting exfoliated, washed, and massaged. First, you’re led to a corner of the room to rinse off. Then, you’re taken to dark annex that leads into a smaller area – the doorway emanates with heat. The Egyptian woman gives you a cool, scented towel and welcomes you into the sauna. The sauna is much hotter than the one at 24-hour fitness. It seems unbearable at first, but find your happy place (usually closer to the ground, under the steam cloud) and you can enjoy the heat for a recommended 10-15 minutes.

Now you make your way to that majestic Jacuzzi that’s been calling your name. As walk up the stone steps and into the Jacuzzi, another woman brings you karkadeeh, a non-alcoholic, hibiscus beverage frozen to perfection. Just drink, gaze at the gem-like lights above you, and look forward to what awaits you.

About 15 minutes later, it’s your turn at the marble tables. Ask for a new scrubber before anything begins – you’re about to get all of the dead skin scrubbed off of your entire body and you don’t want to share dead skin with someone else. (It’s an extra 2JD or so, but it’s worth it.) And when I say “off of your entire body,” I mean your entire body. The hamam is not a place to be embarrassed about anything. It’s like the gynecologist, except relaxing and no talking required.

If you’re lucky, your Scrubber will show you the dead skin she rubs off of you – you will probably question your personal hygiene routine after this happens. But, you’ll feel much better after you’re lathered up with soap, and rinsed with copious amounts of water. You’ll completely forget about the dead skin when you’re asked, as if you’d ever decline, “Massage?”

You go to another marble table for the massage. For 40 minutes, your front and back (again, entire body) will be massaged with a mild-smelling oil. With the exception of one or two awkward moments for this American, it is amazing. I would have fallen asleep, but I didn’t want to miss the amazing-ness.

Unfortunately, the massage is the end of the main hamam experience. What’s left is a shower to rinse off the oil, changing back into 2011 clothes in the locker room, and then final sit in a small, furnished lobby. You’ll drink a final glass of kardadeeh and reminisce about that time you were a Turkish princess in 1580 CE…

256 days ago Short URL Comments

Amman

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07

Sep

Why I Came to Amman

This post was specially written for C, N, & J! The first part at least.

I’m in Amman to study Arabic! I graduated with a B.S. in anthropology, with specialized coursework in Internet and social media and minored in English. Like so many young grads, my interests have evolved over the last 4 years. Most recently, I’ve realized that I have always been interested in education. I’m not much of a teacher — but I really care about education. So, the tentative plan is to learn Arabic as well as I can so that I can work in international education policy. More specifically, I want to work in Muslim-majority societies like Afghanistan, where Arabic is not a language that the people learn. Islam has become so warped in placed like Afghanistan. If children learn classical Arabic so that they can truly understand the meaning of the Quran, it can be very beneficial to Afghanistan’s future as a Muslim-majority society.

The English translation of the Quran does not even begin to do the true meaning justice. Similarly, without a thorough understanding of classical Arabic and the resources to do research on what scholars have written and understand about the Quran, it is very easy to misconstrue meanings of ayahs and surahs. Like academic disciplines, you can’t get the full story from just one book or article. Although the Quran is the holy book of Islam, understanding it takes many years of practice in Arabic and thorough guidance from expert scholars.

Inshallah (God willing), by creating educational resources for people in places like Afghanistan, we can begin to work past warped Islamic ideologies that are forced upon people and instead, begin to freely contribute to a global discourse on Islamic studies. Feel free to share your thoughts on this in the comments — I would love to get feedback/advice!

My Arabic journey will be life-long but I’m really grateful to be able to come to Jordan for 3-6 months (however long I can last) to study here. After this, hopefully I’ll have a better idea of the kind of grad program I want to apply to and where! If you’re in the Amman area and know of any education NGOs or non-profits that are looking for an intern, please shoot me an email or let me know in the comments, I would love to get some more experience.

In other news, I am not going to the north today :[. I made a very noob mistake two nights ago and ate an apple with the peel. So, let’s just say that my stomach has been out of sorts for the last 36 hours. I was hoping to be better by this morning, but I ended up getting only two hours of sleep last night. My sister said graphic images aren’t needed — so you’re welcome, because as many of my friends and family know, I think poop is really awesome. I mean, not as much lately — but overall, a very awesome thing. Moral of the story: peel your fruits and veggies in foreign countries — and/or wash them very well with purified water and a little vinegar.

Until next time, ma salama!

262 days ago Short URL Comments

Amman

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06

Sep

First Days in Amman: Taxis, Water and Apartment Hunting

Safely arrived in Amman on Sunday night, and today (Wednesday) was day 3 of jet lag, and the worst of it.

First, I have to say that the expat community here is absolutely amazing. If it wasn’t for my cousin’s friend here, and all of the people that she’s introduced me to, I would be lost in this city. One new friend explained the Expat Phenomenon as, “We’ve all been in the situation where we don’t know anyone or anything about Amman. People helped us, so we help others now.” I am really grateful for the help, and I hope I can help someone else before I leave! And if not in Amman, hopefully I can help people in another place :]

So far, I have stayed in Jabal Weibdeh and 5th circle area. Jabal Weibdeh is very charming and has a good mix of expats and Jordanians. From what I understand, it’s more of the Amman-feel for expats. The home I am staying at now, near 5th circle, is very nice and reminds me more of the West — there is actually green shrubbery and flowers in the garden, whereas the rest of Amman is mostly (and naturally) desert. Right now, I am apartment hunting — so I will let you know whereabouts I end up! I like Jabal Weibdeh a lot, but I would have to be ready for typical local problems like water conservation and the seemingly typcal wayward landlord.

In most areas of Amman, water conservation is huge because of the depletion of water resources. The extremely arid weather here doesn’t help the water problem — but it’s great for my skin and hair! Right now, I’m constantly dehydrated but I’m told I’ll get used it.

The locals here are very nice too. Men staring is very different from the US, but I’m learning that it’s not as malicious as it seems at first to a Westerner. For example, I was walking to a money exchange place near Madina Ar Riyadhiya and I couldn’t find it. I walked into a store where three men stared at me — but as soon as I greeted them as asked where the exchange place was, they were very helpful. The main thing is, don’t give people (especially men) a reason to think that you mean anything other than business and professionalism. Only if you steer away from that is when you have problems, or so I’m told. So this means, don’t make small talk with taxi drivers!

Taxis are meant for transportation, especially if you don’t have a car. Men taking taxis sit in the front seat with the driver. Women taking taxis always sit in the back. The latter isn’t a sexism thing as much as it is a professionalism and respect thing. The front seat is reserved for women who are related to the male driver. Any other woman sitting there is inappropriate in this culture. The barrier between the front seat and the backseat signifies that the relationship between the driver and the passenger is purely professional.

For the most part, my taxi experiences have been fine.  I always take yellow taxis and per my new friends’ tips, I always make sure that the meter is set at .25. If the driver says the meter is broken, either get out and take another taxi or settle a price before the ride. I would personally get out though. I’ve had drivers try to get me to pay 3-4 JDs ($4-5.50) for a 1.5JD ($2) ride — I didn’t take the bait. At some point, I will attempt at driving in this city. It’s basically like driving with a bunch of really aggressive drivers. Hey, as long as I have my blind spot mirrors, it could be fun!

Overall, Jordanians are VERY nice people — don’t let a different culture throw you off. The family of some new Jordanian friends in California took me around yesterday and they were, by far, some of the most hospitable people I have ever met. A beautiful Jordanian family who, as they have graciously said, are my new family here. I’m so lucky and grateful to have them. They showed me the mosque that the first King Abdullah prayed at, which is one of the oldest mosques in Jabal Al Nadif.

The plan for the rest of the week is tomorrow, going up to see the north (Jerash). Maybe I’ll finally dust off my camera! And Friday, the first day of the weekend here, I’ll be chilling at a hamam.  Look out for posts on each!

Until next time, ma salama!

263 days ago Short URL Comments

Amman

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