Merry Christmas to All

...and to all a good night!
Merry Christmas to everyone around the world from us here in Jordan.

Pilgrimage

All Muslims who are physically and financially able are required to make the pilgrimage--Hajj in Arabic--to the city of Mecca in Saudi Arabia at least once in their lives. Mecca is the home of the holiest site in Islam--a shrine to God that Muslims believe was built by Abraham and his son Ishmael--and the pilgrimage to this site and others in the surrounding area coincides with Eid al-Adha, the Festival of Sacrifice mentioned in the previous post. This pilgrimage is obviously an essential aspect of the Islamic faith, and many Muslims take the title Hajji--one who has performed the Hajj--after completing it. Also, the household of those making the pilgrimage will decorate the front of their home to welcome them back from their journey, and also to announce to the neighborhood that someone in that particular home has completed this important duty. The above picture shows this decoration, which was recently put up by the family that lives below us in our building.

Eid al-Adha

Eid al-Adha--the Feast of Sacrifice--started today in Jordan, and all across the Islamic world. The Eid is a four day holiday during which Muslims commemorate Abraham's sacrifice of the ram provided by God to replace Abraham's son, whom God had asked Abraham to sacrifice in order to test his faith. Although Christians and Jews believe this son to have been Issac, Muslims believe the son to have been Ishmael. It is during this time that Muslims make the pilgrimage to Mecca as well. During the three days all normal life in Jordan stops, and people put on their best clothes to visit their friends and family.


This is the scene in downtown Amman the night before the Eid, as many people were making last minute preparations, buying food, clothes and gifts.





It is traditional for families to slaughter a sheep as part of the holiday, and the above two pictures show a sheep being slaughtered on a street not far from where we live. In keeping with Islamic practice, the sheep must specifically be killed with the cut of a knife through the jugular vein while saying the words "In the Name of God", and all of the animal's blood must be drained--which you can see on the sidewalk--before it can be eaten. Although not everyone we know is doing it, it is a major part of the occasion. Last year we were in Morocco during the Eid, and everywhere we went we saw sheep being lead away for slaughter on all types of transportation--carts, trucks and even motorcycles. One of our friends here told us the way out of her neighborhood was blocked this morning by a long line of cars driven by people waiting to buy sheep in a lot nearby.

Eid Mubarak!
(Blessed Festival!)

The Lessons of Bab al-Harr

This month I've been trying to finish watching online a Syrian mini-series called "Bab al-Harr" that played all throughout the Middle East and North Africa during this past Ramadan. It was played every night during the holiday, and it so captivated Jordanians that--in the words of a Jordanian friend of mine--when it was on you would "not find a person on the street." I too was captivated by it, with its portrayal of life and culture inside the old city walls of early 20th century Damascus, and I'm still watching it now because we left the country for a bit towards the end of Ramadan and I missed the last week or so of the show.

Much of the plot revolves around the family of a man called Abu Isaam, who--after a particularly nasty disagreement with his wife of many years--divorced her. Because of the cultural conditions of the time, this divorce set off a terrible chain reaction within the family, as the former wife was obliged to leave her home and move in with her brother, as--even if she had the means to do so--no honorable woman of the time would live by herself. Also, the father of the man who was engaged to the daughter of the divorced couple forced his son to call off the wedding, as no family of the time would want to be stained by the dishonor of divorce, even when just connected to a family being married into. The program skillfully depicts the social customs of the time, customs which are still in evidence today where we live. Yes, of course there are many differences between early 20th century Damascus and early 21st century Amman, and it is--as another Jordanian friend of mine said--"just TV." However, the overriding culture of honor and shame in which the requirements of the family are put first--as opposed (for better or worse) to the more individualistic nature of American society--remains the same. Also, it is possible to learn from a good book or a good movie, and even a good television show.

Something I ponder when I watch the show regards the male dominated nature of the society portrayed. Whenever anything controversial or important occurs on the screen, the men of the community all gather together to yell at each other, discuss or think about the problem at hand. Meanwhile, the women of the community sit around and wait for a decision or ruling to be made on an issue that may affect them, but on which they have no voice. Once a decision is made, the rest of the community must abide by it. This strikes me as simply a bad way to do life. To leave important discussions to one segment of society while excluding another segment of society from those discussions seems to me to not be the best way to make wise, informed decisions. Such an approach utilizes only part of the brain-power available in a community. Men and women are different, and sometimes have different ways of thinking, and leaving women out of a decision making process eliminates the possibility of hearing different attitudes and perspectives, and as a result short-circuits any potentially more creative solutions to a given problem.

This approach to problem solving is still noticeable in Jordanian society, and some women we know have lives that aren't as full as they could be because of decisions made for them by men in their lives. I also think, though, that it has by no means disappeared from my own American society. For instance, I see this still taking place in our current presidential election season, as some say that a woman--irrespective of her qualifications are lack thereof--should not be elected to the office of president. I also see this especially still taking place in the church, where women are still not welcomed into pastoral roles in many denominations and often shut out of various decision making processes, and are often told to be subordinate in their families.

But just like in the male only arena of Bab al-Harr, this strikes me as a bad way to do life. For a church to be lead only by a group of people from one segment of society, and for a family to rely on the man to lead and the woman to follow seems to me to not be the best way to make wise, informed decisions that are for the benefit and encouragement of all. The church--like society--consists of both men and women, and as such should be lead by both men and women. A family should rely on the leadership of both of the people who--in the words of the author of Genesis--"united" to "become one flesh." Shutting women out simply because they are women--regardless of their ability to lead or provide a different perspective or creative outlook on a certain situation--seems to shut out the possibility of obtaining the best solution to a problem or situation for growth. So many times in Bab al-Harr what the men decide for the group ends up causing pain or more trouble. Yes, it is just TV, but it does mirror what actually happens in Jordanian society and even, to some extent, what happens in American society. I think a complete inclusion of those still not entirely allowed to be part of decision making processes--while not ultimately bringing about perfect solutions or situations--will create a situation where better, more equitable and more human decisions are possible.

Cat Attack

In a past post we wrote about the ubiquitous presence of street cats here, as they can be seen running around everywhere kind of like squirrels at home. We live on the second floor of our building, and occasionally one makes its way to the rooftop built over the garden terrace of the apartment below us, giving it a perfect view right into our apartment. After making the climb up the other day, this particular street cat apparently found our street cat turned house cat quite mesmerizing, enough so that we were able to snap this picture before it got scared and ran away.

Elections in Jordan

Jordan recently held parliamentary elections. It seemed to be quite hotly contested, as there were almost 900 candidates for the 110 seats, and campaign signs and banners and large posters bearing their awkwardly smiling faces were posted all over Amman in the month or two before the vote. Of the nearly 900 candidates, 199 were women. By law, of the 110 seats 12 are reserved for Christian and Circassian candidates, and 6 for the top women candidates. Probably the biggest news once the results were known was that the political wing of the Muslim Brotherhood fared poorly, with the number of seats they hold dropping from 17 to 6.

Unfortunately--despite the large number of candidates--the disposition towards the election of most of the people we know was something between apathy and disdain. Some felt people were just running for the prestige of the position, and others said the winners would turn their backs on the people once they took their seat. Many people talked beforehand about some candidates actually going door to door and buying votes, saying it had happened in the past. At least, though, if they wanted to vote, they really had no excuse not to, as election day here is a national holiday. Whatever the case, it was interesting to observe the democratic process here.

Simple Differences

America and Jordan are two very different places. Recently we travelled home for my sister's wedding, and after almost 18 months away we were already struck by certain differences even before landing back in Minneapolis. There are larger, more substantial and important cultural differences than these below, but these were our immediate impressions that were formed just from the long journey home.

First, in America there are lines! Here in Jordan, there is no such thing as a line. Whether you are at the post office or waiting to order a shawarma, you must constantly be on your guard, fighting to keep your position amongst a mob of people waiting for you to lose focus enough to slip by you. Once at the bus station in the clamor to board a bus that just arrived we witnessed a group of men jumping up the side of the bus and climbing through the open windows to skip the line waiting to get in through the front door and ensure their spot inside. In opposition to this, when we arrived in Chicago everyone calmly made their way from the plane to the immigration area, and then quietly marched back and forth through the aluminum railing maze that brought us to passport control. For us, the environment there at the airport was eerily calm, and we both marvelled at the stark contrast compared to what we knew would be happening in a similar situation where we had just flown from.

Also, we observed that Americans are a casual people. This we noticed specifically on the short flight from Chicago to Minneapolis, where we saw a lot of blue jeans, t-shirts and white sneakers on people young and old. This actually fit the apparel perception that Jordanians seem to have of Americans, as it has been remarked more than once to us that Americans are viewed as what they call "simple" dressers. In opposition to this, here people dress more formally. Adults almost never wear jeans, and although young men sometimes do, they are usually of the darker and tighter variety, and never worn out or with holes. In fact, pants with holes in them are rare enough that when the jeans I was wearing when we were in Syria developed a small tear, somebody asked me if I needed money for new pants. Young men also often wear a buttoned shirt and wing tipped shoes with their darker, tighter jeans. No t-shirts, no white shoes. As a result of this, it was really a jolt to both of our sensibilities to see such a sea of denim on the airplane. It's nothing that we ever would have noticed before, but we notice it now.

Clouds in the Desert

The other day a friend of ours told us that when she and her four year old son walked outside he looked up at the sky and began to cry. She asked him what was wrong and he said, "What are those white things in the sky mom?" She had to remind him that they were clouds! It has been a while since we have seen clouds here in Jordan, and when you live in a country that has clear blue skies at least six months out of the year, it is nice to see them. Even if they are kind of scary at first!

Summer of Guests

It's been a long time since we've posted anything on this blog. We've had a very busy summer, capped off by almost 2 months of non-stop guests and now we have started our 3rd semester in language school. Annamarie's parents came for three weeks, and while they were here some friends of ours and their toddler came for a week. Finally, after everyone had left a Sudanese family from our church here came after Sudan Air cancelled their flight back to Sudan on the night they were supposed to fly home. After 12 days, they did fly home, but not without a lot of drama imposed on all of us by the airline. The details of that drama may perhaps be the subject of a later post.

This post, though, instead deals with the effects of all those guests on the water supply in our apartment. You see, water is in short supply in this mostly desert nation. Each housing unit has a metal tank--usually two by four meters in size and found on the roof of the building--in which the water for that housing unit is stored. The government pumps water into these tanks once each week, and if you run out before your "water day", you just have to wait. We have had to adjust to doing our cleaning and laundary once a week but that isn't such a big deal. Although sometimes the flow of the water being pumped is blocked, and sometimes in the summer months less water is pumped in, receiving water just once per week is usually not a problem for us.

This was a problem, though, during our period of guests. For a month we had between four and seven people here, meaning we had to make a concerted effort to conserve our water. This meant sharing flushes, growing a closet full of dirty laundry, leaving dirty dishes occasionally (not so bad) and taking infrequent showers (sometimes bad). Even with all of this, though, we still ran out twice and used nearly every drop in the tank another time. Certainly making the extra effort to save all the water possible is not the greatest hardship one can experience in life - at least we have water! Once everyone left, we flushed at will, did all of our laundry, washed all those dirty dishes and showered two days in row. Back to normal. It is something worth mentioning, though, just because it is one of the many differences between our homeland and our home now.



The tanks on our roof getting water - and overflowing! Although water is scarce there is a lot of waste.




Matt and Amanda utilizing some reserve water for washing.

Mosaic

I have wanted to make these cool mosaics for a long time and finally my good friend Holly told me how it was done. This was just a practice but I thought I would share some pictures of animals from around the Middle East - the one eating spiderman lives with us!

A Jordanian Christian Wedding

We have been in the village of Simakiyya for just a few weeks and have had an amazing experience and made lots of friends. We have been welcomed so warmly by the people there and have been busy every day visiting people. These visits always include some food and we have been eating spectacular meals of chicken and rice, grape leaves and squash stuffed with rice and lamb, and drinking mint tea full of sugar and so much coffee that we are both in heaven! So, it was no surprise that this weekend when a wedding was happening we were invited.

Weddings here are a two day affair. The night before the ceremony there is a sahar--which literally means visiting into the late hours. Everyone is invited to a party that starts around 7 in the evening and lasts until the wee hours of the morning. It usually happens outside under big colorful tents, and a full dinner is served. For this sahar a tent was placed in the church courtyard, and the meal began with appetizers of mixed nuts, hummus, tabbouleh, olives and other yummy middle eastern dips. Then a chicken and rice dish was served, followed by a dessert. There were fireworks blasted from the roof above us--the shards floated down into our hair and food--and singing and dancing.

Matt sitting under the tent.

The next day is the wedding ceremony. However, before the actual ceremony a big lunch of the national dish--mansef--is served. For this wedding this happened under the tents where we had the party the previous evening. Mansef is seasoned rice piled high on a huge circular tray with lamb meat on top--including the head of the lamb pointed straight up in the middle--with thin, hot yogurt poured over everything. Everyone eats from the same tray and you eat with your right hand, forming the rice and meat into a ball and popping it into your mouth. Some people used spoons--especially those who have moved from the countryside to Amman (and Matt)--but everyone was so happy to see Annamarie eating with her hand. It is very HOT and sometimes hard to get rice and a piece of lamb balled up in your hand and to flip it into your mouth, but it is fun and so delicious.

The hot yogurt being poured over the mansef.

After the meal everyone goes home for a few hours to rest and change clothes, and than the ceremonies start. The bride is at her home dressed and ready for the ceremony with her family. Usually this means that she spent most of the day at the beauty salon getting ready and therefore wasn't at the lunch. During this time a large group follows the groom back to his house, where he is hoisted on the shoulders of someone strong and literally dressed for the wedding. In the midst of drumming and the singing of traditional songs, the clothes he wore to the lunch are taken off and his wedding suit is put on. Some of the songs even have to do with exactly which type of clothing is being put on at the moment.

After all of this, the groom and his family go to the bride's house, singing and clapping as they arrive. The bride's family escorts her out of the house and the groom takes her to the church in the most expensive car they can find, which is covered with flowers on the hood and the trunk. Other people going to the wedding follow the car through the streets to the church--honking and singing along the way. Once the couple is at the church they are met outside by everyone and the men sing and play drums as the couple enter. The ceremony then takes place and they are married.

We had a great time celebrating with everyone!

The bride leaving her home to get married.

The men singing and drumming to the bride and groom - they are inside the circle of people.

The groom and bride right before they entered the church for the wedding ceremony.

Simakiyya

The past two weeks or so we've been living in a small village of about 2,000 people about two hours south of Amman called Simakiyya. We were helping out with a children's camp being held at a church there. Simakiyya is located on the edge of the desert in central Jordan and is the only entirely Christian village in the country. The residents--who are predominantly members of two tribes--are part of either the Melkite Greek Catholic Church or the Latin Catholic Church, with only the latter being under the influence of the Roman Catholic Church. Our camp was held at the Latin Catholic Church, and the two churches stand practically side by side in town.

The village was only established around 100 years ago, as until then the people were nomadic Bedouin who herded their flocks of goats and sheep in the area and lived in tents. Since settling, the people started farming wheat and other grains. They also continue to raise goats and sheep, some people with pens right outside their homes. Although on the edge of the desert--and brown and dusty now--the surrounding area was a pleasant and surprising green when we first visited in April. Below are some pictures of the village.

A house in the middle of the village.

A view of the village from the rooftop of a friend. You can see the hills of the desert in the background.


Matt and a friend from Amman--who also worked at the camp--walking on a street in the village as a local bus makes a stop.


A gate at an entrance to a house. The cross is something you don't see very often here in Jordan.

A view of the village from the roof of our apartment building.

The Latin Catholic Church.

Wonder of the World

Last night Petra was announced as one of the new Seven Wonders of the World. In a year long campaign in which votes from around the world were registered online and via mobile phone, it received the second highest number of votes, behind only the Great Wall of China. The other new wonders are Chichen Itza, Mayan ruins in Mexico; a 105 foot tall statue of Jesus that overlooks Rio de Janeiro, Brazil; the Roman Colosseum; Machu Picchu, Incan ruins in Peru; and the Taj Mahal in India.

There has been a lot of publicity here the past few months to get people to vote for Petra, and last night there were live, televised celebrations around Amman and in Petra itself celebrating it being named a wonder. This meant there were lots of fireworks and gunshots piercing the night air here when the results were announced. It seems that this is a designation that a lot of people here really wanted to receive and it was fun to be part of the celebration!

But what is Petra? A city over 2000 years old, Petra is sometimes called the "rose-red city" because it was carved into red sandstone rock in the desert about three hours south of Amman. The inhabitants were the Nabateans--Arabs who lived in Jordan during pre-Roman times and who made the city their capital. Petra remained hidden from the outside world until it was rediscovered in 1812, and it is said that just 5% of Petra has been excavated so far, so there is still so much more to be discovered.

We've been to Petra a number of times, and for us it never gets old and never ceases to amaze us. So, we're ready to be tour guides for any of our friends who want to come and say they have been to see Petra, one of the newest wonders of the world!

Green Space

Lately I have started to get stir crazy in the house and realized that I have really been missing the outdoors. Coming from Minneapolis, I would run or walk to the four parks with lakes within 15 blocks of our house at least four times a week. BUT here in Amman such outings in nature are just impossible. There are "parks" but they usually exist in the middle of an intersection and that to me does not count as a park.

So I have tried to start walking every night BUT that seriously is risky for various reasons. First, the obvious is the cultural issue. There aren't tons of people that exercise here on the streets, let alone women. Matt has gone walking with me a few times and I usually don't have many problems when he is around but without him it is a different story. It is crazy what grown men will yell out of their cars to you! The second issue is traffic. Amman is an ever growing city - currently it is estimated that between 3.5 and 5 million people live in Amman. This is a city that just 20 years ago was only a million! So, the increase in people and cars has seriously impacted where one can walk and not feel like they are on a highway. So I have come to realize that living in the desert is something that is hard to get used to when you are used to surroundings like these:

Just for fun!

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

40 Year Anniversary

Today marks the 40 year anniversary of the end of the 1967 Middle East War--also called the Six Day War--in which Israel fought against Jordan, Syria and Egypt. All week long the BBC, CNN, Al-Jazeera and local newspapers here have been commemorating this war and its effect and consequences on the region. For Jordan the consequences have been great. Around 350,000 people fled to Jordan from the other side of the Jordan River because of the war. Added to the refugees from wars prior to and after this, they form part of a Palestinian refugee population of nearly two million here in Jordan. Many of these people still live in one of the 10 Palestinian refugee camps here, although many others live outside of the camps and have comfortable lives.

One thing all the news coverage on the war has done for me this past week is provide me with some context for many of the stories I've been told or experiences I have had during our time in Jordan. For instance, the three men who installed our satellite dish last year all hail from the Baqaa refugee camp, which was established 40 years ago for Palestinian refugees from the 1967 war. None are over 40 years old, so they were all born there. This camp is just outside of Amman, and it used to be necessary to drive past it to reach certain tourist destinations in the north. You still can, but now it is not necessary, as the government has built a nice, new road to those same places, far away from this camp. The cynics among us think it was built so the big tourist buses--and anyone else--could avoid driving past such an unpleasant sight.

Another man I know came to Amman from the West Bank--at that point part of Jordan--for college at some point before the war. Before he finished his studies, though, the war started--and ended--and Israel was suddenly the governing authority of his homeland. He couldn't go back, and he hasn't been back since. Going away for college turned into a lifetime. Also, for many people here, 1967 was just one of several times they were uprooted from their homes due to a war. A taxi driver we know, for example, fled the West Bank in 1967 to Kuwait. Then, he fled with his family to Jordan in 1991 during the first Gulf War. Also, I once met a man who worked at a shawarma stand who actually fled from three different wars, first as a child to the West Bank during the Israeli War of Independence in 1948, then to Kuwait because of the 1967 war and then to Jordan in 1991 because of the Gulf War. Finally, we've met many people who are originally from Jerusalem, people who were among those who fled during the war that has been recollected so many times this week.

The images we've seen on television this week have been sometimes grainy, the color dull and dim. The 40 year old commentary from Israeli, Arab and other news sources that is sometimes played alongside these images has that tin can quality of historical documentaries. For a long time I've known about the 1967 war, but watching this coverage all week has helped bring to life the stories I've heard from people here. Or maybe the stories I've heard have helped bring to life the coverage on the news. Either way, what happened 40 years ago has become less grainy to me this week.

A Needed Break in the Mediterranean

Last week we finally took a break from the Middle East and travelled to Cyprus, an island nation in the Mediterranean Sea just 45 minutes by plane from Jordan. It was our first foray out of the Middle East/North Africa region in our year here. Cyprus is a break from the Middle East because it is a European nation, and as such it is a tiny bit more like home and has a much less conservative culture than Jordan. For one week we wiped the dust off of our shorts and Annamarie's skirts and tank tops, relaxed on the beach, held hands in public, interacted with members of the opposite sex and were the focus of no one's attention because of our blond hair, white skin, nationality or Matt's beard. It was quite noticeable that no one paid any attention to us on the street, and when one becomes accustomed to being the daily object of much attention, the lack of any attention is striking. We were just tourists in a place filled with tourists.


Cyprus is not all European, though; it is a little Middle Eastern as well. Although southern Cyprus is Greek speaking, the northern half of the island is Turkish speaking, the result of the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in 1974. As a result, the capital of Cyprus--Nicosia--is the only remaining divided capital in the world. We visited Nicosia several years ago and there is a wall right down the center of the city. This division of the island is of course still being disputed today. For more information about this history, click here.


We were too busy relaxing to take many pictures, but here's us relaxing at a cafe in Cyprus.

Our Fake War Zone

A few weeks ago work began on the street near our language school to turn it into a pedestrian only thoroughfare. For the first part of this venture, big machines were brought in to pound into pieces the existing pavement--which was then hauled away--leaving behind a gravel road with piles of rubble strewn about. We walk on this rocky road every day--as do many other people--and several people we know have commented that it reminds them of walking through a war zone, that it looks like an area that has been bombed. In reality it looks nothing like a war zone; real war zones are much, much worse.

Below is a picture of our street, followed by pictures of streets that have been bombed in Baghdad and in Beirut last summer. The pictures are the closest in appearance that we could find to our street, meaning that they are pictures that actually show the least amount of damage that we could find. Pictures of much more incredible damage and grisly scenes of death can be found without much effort--these are the real war zones.

Day of Sand

In Jordan there are spring showers and spring sandstorms. On Friday morning we woke up to a sandstorm, which as the day wore on, steadily decreased our ability to see the buildings around us. As the sand blew in we shut our apartment windows to keep out the sand--although we forgot about the bathroom window, which meant that enough sand fell in to the bathtub to slow the drain the next time it was used. The sandstorms here usually come west from Africa, and in the springtime they are called "Khamseeni Winds", which--since Khamseen is Arabic for fifty--refers to the roughly fifty days of sand blowing in from Africa that occurs each spring. When it does come in heavy like on this particular day, cars outside and furniture inside get coated with a thin layer of dust. Also, when you are outside, sometimes you can feel the dust pricking your skin.

The Beard Divide

I have a blond, shaggy beard, with short, prickly hair that doesn't always lay in the position I would like. Occasionally I wish it was thicker--the hair is a bit patchy in some spots--but it is thick enough to be the subject of much interest with many people I come across here. This is because facial hair has great symbolic value in this part of the world, as for many Muslims, big, shaggy beards are seen as a sign of religiosity. As a result of this, Muslims I meet routinely ask me--because of my beard--if I am a Muslim. From taxi drivers, kids on the street, or strangers in a shop, the question is the same: "Inta (are you a) Muslim?"

The beard is such a symbol of religiosity that sometimes people even ask me if I am a "sheik"--a Muslim religious leader. Occasionally people will skip past asking me if I am a Muslim and go straight to "Inta (are you a) sheik?" Also, every so often someone will refer to me as "sheik." Once on the street I heard a group of young boys chatting enthusiastically about me, wondering amongst themselves if indeed I was a sheik.

Here in this culture, then, my shaggy--at times unkempt--beard is generally a positive thing. Even when I tell people I am a Christian, I have the sense that the beard still provides me with some sort of religious credibility--and religion is very important here--since it makes me look, in a general sense, religious. A person may not know anything about me--nothing about how I live my life or how I treat others--but they see I have a beard and they think I must be a pious, religious person. Okay, I may not be a Muslim, but to many, the beard means that I am still someone to be respected in the religious sense.

Recently, however, I discovered for the first time a kind of beard divide here in Jordan, a divide I noticed when we visited a small Christian village with a friend last week. This village--located in the Karak region about two hours south of Amman--has a population of about 2000 people. It is the only purely Christian village in Jordan; there are two churches there, and no mosques.

I was warned beforehand that the people of this village might have a slightly different attitude towards my beard than most of the people in Amman. Since they too saw bushy beards as Islamic symbols, they might--I was told--look at me with a bit of suspicion instead of immediate respect. As it happened, this warning was right on target. Not long after our arrival I had to answer the nervous questions of a little boy who wondered if I was a Muslim. When we went out to two wedding parties later in the evening--in stark contrast to Amman--I saw mustaches, but no beards. Clean shaves seemed to be a priority, and I felt a little self-conscious about my facial hair. Finally, right before we were about to leave, we stopped to visit one last family that our friend knew. When we entered the home, the family greeted us, and as our friend chatted with them, their little boy of maybe three years old pointed at my face and said "Mamnuuwa," which means "prohibited" or "not allowed." He said it twice more before we left.

Wherever we go here, it seems my beard engenders much discussion. I wonder what people are saying about my long hair.

Easter in Jordan

Easter in Jordan is somewhat of a subdued occasion. Of course there aren't a ton of Christians here, and the holiday doesn't have the same festive gift giving connotation as does Christmas to warrant more attention from local Muslims or businesses here. This lack of attention probably leads to some ignorance here regarding what Easter is actually about, as seen by my friend who recently admitted to wishing his Christian friend a "Happy Egg" last Easter.

Part of how Christians celebrate Easter here is similar to how Muslims here celebrate the end of Ramadan, namely by visiting all of their friends and relatives, drinking coffee and eating sweets. The official visiting period lasts from Easter Sunday until the following Sunday. The picture above is of a Catholic church near the home of some friends we visited this week.

Snow Day

That's right, it snowed here in Amman last week. Big, white flakes fell from the sky for most of the day, and although most of it melted soon after it hit the ground, school was cancelled and we had an extra day at home. In fact, most of the cars on our block didn't move all day, probably meaning most of our neighbors stayed home too. The picture above shows the results of our day of snow, and although it is pretty meager from our Minnesota standards, it was enough to disrupt the normal rhythm of life here, and even enough to provide us with a little bit of extra excitement.

Wild Cats

I recently read an article in our hometown newspaper about the large and increasing number of wild cats in the metropolitan area of Minneapolis and St. Paul. According to the article, studies show that between half a million to a million such cats are roaming the area, creating nuisance issues and potentially spreading disease. The article even told the story of one such wild cat that entered a women's home and, when discovered, took a swipe at her. Oh my! The article went on to discuss the solutions being bandied about for the resolution of the problem, which included bringing the cats to animal shelters to give away or, if they were not taken, to euthanize; trapping, neutering and then releasing them; or just shooting them. It didn't say if there would be a "cat season" or not.

This got me thinking about our own wild cat problem here in Amman. Here, cats roam every street like packs of wild dogs, dig for leftover food in garbage cans, sleep on abandoned furniture or empty dirt lots, produce new offspring several times each year, and occasionally disturb the peace with their fighting. They're like squirrels in Minnesota in their ubiquity, except with much more personality. No matter how wild they are, when you walk by them they seem to look at you longingly--occasionally meowing--hoping for a bit of human contact, but deep down, knowing that they should probably keep their distance. Also, since--like snowflakes--no one cat looks exactly like another, you start to recognize the various cats on your street, notice the new ones that sometimes come along, and wonder where the old ones are if you haven't seen them for a few days. Anyway, there are a lot of cats here. A lot.

So I wondered exactly how many wild cats we have here, and did an internet search to see if I could find out. Needless to say, however, there was no such information available online. I guess that's not surprising. There were a few blogs from various people here on the subject, but I doubt that any study has been done to determine the number of wild cats living in the city.

A cat on the dumpster outside our apartment.

Church Attack in Sudan

Recently we found out that the Anglican Cathedral in Khartoum, Sudan was attacked by police during the New Year's Eve service two months ago. We learned about this not from a newspaper report, the BBC or the internet, but from our friend, who had gone home to Sudan from Jordan to spend Christmas with his family for the first time in six years--and who just happened to be in the church when the attack happened.

First, he said, two canisters of tear gas were fired into the front veranda of the church. Then, the police stormed into the church and fired two more. Finally, as the 500 or so people inside were panicking, they fired still two more. Our friend was sitting in the front of the church near the pulpit--although he usually would sit in the back, he said--where everyone of course rushed to escape the gas. Those in the front, he said, scrambled to open the doors to the outside there, taking care to make sure the crowd left the building in single file to avoid trampling. In the end several people incurred only minor injuries--although according to our friend one person needed to have his hand amputated because of major burns incurred. A canister did land near the Christian vice-president of the country who was in attendance, and our friend had to spend some time wiping away the tears produced by the gas.

According to our friend, the official explanation from the police for this attack--an explanation confirmed in this article--was that a fight had broken out near the church in which someone was stabbed. The stabber--according to the police--then ran into the church, and the police followed. Our friend believes the story was made up--an excuse to attack the church. After all, he said, no stabber was ever found, nor was any stabbing victim, something relayed in an article on this Christian news website. Even if the incident in question really did occur, storming the church with tear gas in order to flush out the attacker seems to be a bizarre tactic. Of course, in researching this attack online we discovered that similar attacks by the police on Christians in Khartoum have taken place in the past, one of which is detailed here in this release from Amnesty International.

The Bishop of Khartoum discussed the attack in a statement to other Anglican churches around the world. The incident is a reminder of the tenuous position of Christians in Sudan, and--along with the past destruction of the south during the long civil war and the current pillaging of the people and places of Darfur in the west--is another example of the obstinacy of the Sudanese government. It is also probably another reason why so many of our Sudanese friends here say that going home from Jordan--a country with its own challenges--will be a difficult transition.

Tunisia: Kairouan and Tunis

After finishing in Gabes, we began the final portion of our North African journey. From Gabes we took a louage--a mini-van taxi with seven or eight passengers--back to Sfax, and from there we rode another louage about two hours to Kairouan, a city west of Sousse in north central Tunisia. We had heard a lot about these louages during our short time in Tunisia regarding the speed of their drivers and their accident rate, but we had no problems. At one point during the ride to Kairouan I did wake up from a nap and notice the van was really bouncing because of our speed and perhaps the erratic driving of our driver, but instead of worrying I just decided to go back to sleep.

Kairouan has a population of about 120,000 and is one of the holiest cities in Islam. Founded in the late seventh century, it is the oldest Islamic settlement in Tunisia, and has the oldest mosque in North Africa, with the world's oldest minaret. Like most other cities we visited on our trip, Kairouan has an old city surrounded by walls as well. Although the original walls of the city were built in the late eighth century, most of the current walls are from the 18th century. We spent one night here.

Finally, the last part of our journey was spent in Tunis, the capital of Tunisia, where we arrived after a four hour louage trip from Kairouan. The population of Tunis is about 700,000, and it of course includes an old city, which was founded in the late seventh century not long after the Arab conquest of the area. Tunis had a European flavor as well, with a long, pedestrian friendly main boulevard lined with sidewalk cafes and restaurants filled with people. From Tunis we took day trips to the picturesque seaside village of Sidi Bou Said--which actually had a Greek island type feel--and the ruins of Carthage, an ancient city where the important Christian theologian Augustine lived for a time.

After all this, it was finally back to Amman.

A gate into the old city of Kairouan.

Carpets hanging from a shop in Kairouan. The city is the carpet capital of Tunisia.


An alleyway in Kairouan, and another biker.


Rows of Fez--the national headgear of Tunisia.


A synagogue in Tunis. Tunisia still has a tiny Jewish community.


A group of women in Tunis.


A statue from the museum in Carthage.


Annamarie posing in Carthage.


Looking out to the Mediterranean Sea in Sidi Bou Said.


A cat sleeping outside a doorway in Sidi Bou Said.