Sunday, October 13, 2013

The tipping point

To begin, I am happy here. I haven't once had a serious regret about being here. 

That being said, being in a foreign place intensifies the normal highs and lows that we all experience. This week has been a particularly tough one. I normally choose to avoid any negativity from these blog entries and certainly don't view blogging as an appropriate instrument for venting, but, there's no point in trying to deceive my readers or myself that this experience has been all flowers and sunshine. 

After a particularly exhausting week, I was relieved to sleep in on Friday. I woke up, still somehow drained, and went to the dukaan to buy some yogurt and then to the bakery. Every Friday morning the bakery has a swarm of shebab pushing in front of one another trying to buy bread. I was the only female and somehow worked my way to the front. As I was buying my bread, one of the bakers, one I didn't recognize, asked me if I was an American. Yes. If I get an American wife I can go to America right? he shouted, in front of everyone. Fishing the 30 gursh out of my wallet I mumbled ma baraf. He turned to the other baker and said something I didn't understand and they laughed. The older man, Abu Muhammad, who runs the bakery gave them a scolding look, gave me a sympathetic one, and handed me my bag. I walked away looking towards the ground. The rest of the weekend I didn't feel like leaving my house. It wasn't because of that comment. It's certainly not the first time a stupid boy has tried to get a rise out of his friend at my expense. But that's precisely it. It's not the first or only or last.
* dukaan = shop/ grocery store * shebab = group of boys or men * ma baraf = I don't know * gursh = cents

Sexual harassment is certainly not unique to Jordan. Upon reading this please don't disregard every wonderful thing I have told you about this place. They are all true! But harassment is an issue here. It's usually "little things", the long stares or boys or men yelling "welcome to jordan! whats your name, whats your name, whats your name" over and over again as you walk by doing your best to ignore them. It seems insignificant, people asking what my name is. It didn't use to bother me at all really. But these aren't conversation starters (you can always tell the difference)- this is heckling and a form of harassment that happens every single day. Every single day I leave my house at least. Keep in mind that men and women don't converse in the streets here, which makes the yelling at women even more disrespectful. Even when I see my landlord's sons in the street, they politely smile and keep walking out of respect and to protect my reputation here. In the home we talk and joke and eat meals together but on the street, no. They know that and I know that.

The yelling in English is unique to foreigners, but other forms of verbal or other harassment is not. Every woman who has walked in the street has received this. Any contention that "women are asking for it" by the way they present themselves is not only revolting misogynistic bullshit, but false. It doesn't matter if you're wearing a hijab or not, it doesn't matter if you're wearing your baggiest, most conservative and borderline frumpy clothes or if you're wearing skinny jeans and a cute top, if your face is completely made up or if you're letting every zit, wrinkle and bag under your eye show. Many men think that simply being female warrants an invitation for harassment. A lot of men tell their wives and daughters to not walk the streets alone, in an attempt to protect them from this harassment. It seems obvious that more of the talking should be with their sons and friends.

Sometime last week, I was walking home from the bus behind a couple of college aged girls. A few boys hanging out on the street stared at the girls and as they passed, one pretended to smack one of the girl's ass and they all laughed and high-fived. I walked by several seconds later and gave them a piercing stare and muttered iabe (shame).

I have told people about these types of incidents before and get told to just forget it. Ignore them. Avoid eye contact. It's because you're too beautiful. Knowing the 'advice' I would get, I opted to stop talking or complaining about it. That weekend, I stayed inside. I canceled plans to go to Amman. I ignored phone calls from my landlord. I read countless articles online about sexual harassment. About women all over the world feeling the same way I do. The internet is giving people the chance to voice this, but in the streets it's still the same. I let the bakery incident and all unvoiced incidents of harassment build up and it lead to a mild case of agoraphobia.

I don't know what women who experience this should do. Sometimes I think that the best thing really is to ignore it. Does their pathetic attempt at getting attention deserve a reaction? Sometimes reacting only results in more laughter. A while back, a group of pre-pubescent boys yelled something particularly offensive at me. I spun around and yelled iabe alaiku. ma endku huwatt? shame on you, don't you have sisters? They stared at me. And then one, the leader of the pack, responded- la. no. And they all bursted into laughter. I threw my hands in the air and continued my walk up the hill. Maybe I should have used it as a teaching moment, to explain to them that this is wrong behavior. But maybe families I don't know don't want the edjnabia (the foreigner) to be the one lecturing their children. Plus... it's hard to think rationally or clearly (in Arabic) in the heat of the moment.

My best friend and English teacher counterpart has been a huge support. She doesn't have any answers but listens to me with a sympathetic ear. She doesn't tell me it's addi (normal) or to ignore it. She usually just hugs me and gives me half of her sandwich. I will probably write a whole blog post dedicated to her at one point- work and life here would be so different without her.

Before I end this, a few things I'ld like to make clear. 1) I don't hate all men nor do I hate all Arab men. The husbands and brothers of my female friends that I have gotten to know are quite wonderful. 2) more "serious" levels of harassment and abuse do exist here, but do not often get reported because of a culture of shaming the victim. Nothing more serious than verbal harassment has happened to me.  3) I don't believe that this type of behavior is because of religion. Pick any religion and you can find cases of extreme abuse or harassment. Same goes for non-religious individuals or groups.

It's Eid al-Adha on Tuesday, the "festival of the sacrifice" that honors Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son for God before God intervened and sent him a lamb to sacrifice instead. Many Muslims celebrate by sacrificing a sheep and enjoying a big feast together. I won't partake in the celebrations this year, but will take advantage of the week long time off work. I'm about to venture South with some fellow volunteer friends and visit some of Jordan's main tourist attractions, including Petra and Wadi Rum. I think being around good friends in beautiful places is exactly what I need to rebalance the scale post tipping point.


Saturday, October 5, 2013

School days

The school year has started off great. It's been a busy, busy month and a half but there have been lots of smiles and "a-ha" moments along the way. Here are just a few of the faces I get to see each day. 
thumbs up!  
1st grade - 9 of the 45 1b kiddos
3rd grade reading practice 
 Another school week starts tomorrow, bright and early. Good night! 

Moon rising over Kufranjah, August 2013

Thursday, October 3, 2013

A few notes on Syria

School is back in session! The semester started off a bit chaotic. Not only chaotic in the sense that there was no mudeera (head mistress) for the first 2 weeks, classes were overcrowded, and most students'  books didn't arrive until at least the second week of school, but also chaotic in the larger scheme of things. When I say the larger scheme of things, I am referring to Syria's use of chemical weapons that killed some 1400 people.

I watched the news obsessively. On one channel I would see footage of people burning and screaming. I would change the channel and watch Obama address the world announcing that a military strike on Syria was necessary. The bread guy, my coworkers and neighbors asked me what I thought- is Obama good or bad? Will a strike stop the Syrian war? Will a strike spread the war to Jordan? Just about each and every time I replied the same way: walla ma baraf. inta shu ryek? - really, I don't know- what do you think? Responses varied but most people were as uncertain about it all as I was. Many of the Jordanians I have talked to have voiced that Assad needs to go. However, like much of the international community, myself included, weren't sure if a US strike was the way to go.

At the beginning of September I remember hearing a few military planes going right overhead while sitting in the teachers' room. It got quiet. My friend and counterpart Safa looked over at me and saw my "what the f*** was that" face, patted me on the knee and said don't worry. Despite the questions and the constant dialogue amongst volunteers about the possibility of being evacuated, during the 2 week span of questioning "will he or won't he", life went on pretty much as normal here in village. And as it turns out, there was no strike against Syria, alhamdulillah. The US and Russia reached an agreement on September 14 that Syria's stockpile of chemical weapons would be removed and destroyed.

Although chemical weapons may no longer be a threat in Syria, it does not mean that country is any closer to peace. The impact that it is having on Jordan, a country that is stable but quite weak in resources, is huge. According to Wadah Hmoud, director of the Syrian refugee camps administration, the total number of Syrian refugees in all the governorates across Jordan has reached more than 580,000 with the number of those in the camps now standing at 127,859. UNICEF says that 1,170 children, many under 10 years old, have come to Jordan alone and have taken refuge in Za’atari. 

In a speech at the United Nations General Assembly on September 24, King Abdullah II told the assembly that 
The flow of Syrian refugees in Jordan already equals one-tenth of our own population. It could reach one million, some 20% of our population, by next year. These are not just numbers; they are people, who need food, water, shelter, sanitation, electricity, health care, and more. Not even the strongest global economies could absorb this demand on infrastructure and resources, let alone a small economy and the fourth water-poorest country in the world. (more)
In addition, the foreign assistance extended to Jordan to assist Syrian refugees does not even cover 30% of the actual cost of the crisis in Jordan, according to Interior Minister Hussein Majali. (jordantimes) Jordan has received 235 million JD (Jordanian Dinars) in foreign aid, but Syrian refugees have already cost Jordan over 660 JD million, according to Minister of Planning and International Cooperation Ibrahim Saif. UN officials estimate that Jordan will be hosting around 1.2 million Syrians by the end of the year. The Jordanian government said that Jordan needs an additional $850 million JD in international assistance to provide for that magnitude of refugees.

Although the burden on Jordan is huge, I realize it most when I read the news rather than on a day to day basis. Volunteers living further north, in Mafraq, probably would say differently. But here the impact is less noticeable, for me. That's probably because although I am technically a volunteer, all my needs are being provided for.

Prices of food have gone up, electricity is more expensive, and the prices of water and bread are expected to rise. The place I notice it most is the school I teach at. I am not sure of the number of Syrians who attend the Basic Girls' School, but the classrooms are considerably more crowded than they were last year. The Syrians I know and teach are wonderful. Doa'a, a ninth grader, is excellent in English and a motivated learner. She has been absent all week however. When I asked if anyone knew where she was, her classmates told me that she is now attending an evening school that they opened here (as they have in many cities and towns throughout the country) to help accommodate the influx of "over 78,000 Syrian students into public schools" throughout the country (jordantimes).

Although Jordan is doing it's best to provide, the country is clearly not able to permanently host this number of people. There are not enough jobs and not enough resources. The refugees know this, and are eager to return home as soon as it becomes safe to do so. One of Jordanian's favorite questions is "shu assan?", what's better? They ask it shamelessly and about everything- food, people, places. Upon meeting me people always ask me what's better, Jordan or Amreeka and I almost always say ma baraf and spit out a couple of good things about Jordan and a couple good things about America and leave it at that. Doa'a was asked this in front of everyone by our vice principle who visited English class a few weeks ago "shu assan, Ordan o Surri?" Without a pause or hesitation, she answered Surri.