Ramadan Kareem

We're over half way through the month of Ramadan now, during which Muslims are supposed to fast from sunrise to sunset. It is at once a slow paced and a festive month, as during the daylight hours people are of course a little more tired than usual and many shops and stores keep irregular hours, while at night everyone lights up after eating, and everything opens up, many shops and stores staying open almost until daybreak.

Outwardly Ramadan can be compared somewhat to Christmas, as families decorate their homes and businesses their workplace, usually with some combination of stars and crescent moons. Below are some pictures taken of decorations inside our building.

Banners in the first floor entry.

A closer look at the banners. In Arabic is written Ramadan, and underneath is a Qur'an on a Qur'an stand. Below the Qur'an is written, "Month of goodness and blessing."

A lamp in front of the door to a neighbor's apartment. Underneath the man praying is written "Ramadan Kareem," which means "Blessed Ramadan" and is a common greeting during the month, and on the side is written "The month of fasting and worship."

On the door of a different apartment, this again says Ramadan Kareem, and was made by one of the kids who live there.

A different door, but the same Ramadan Kareem sign, again made by one of the kids there.

More kids artwork, on the wall outside another apartment.

Back in Jordan, or Thinking Required

Finally, after being gone eight long months, we returned last week to Jordan.

It is hot, and it is dusty.

And there are a few things I'll need to get used to again.

Number one, we are back to having no car. In the States, most people drive everywhere, in their own car, and during our eight months there, so did we. Our new reality hit hard a few nights ago, though, as we took a trip to the Western style grocery store on the other side of town, bought ten bags of food and supplies, and then hit the streets to find a taxi. It continues to hit hard every time I walk to our local store in the mid-day heat for anything else we have needed.

Number two, we are back to conserving every drop of our water. In the Land of 10,000 Lakes, water flows freely from our taps. Not so here, though, where our water for the week is stored in rooftop tanks. Once it's done, it's done, until--in our neighborhood--Tuesday night, when the government pumps in our next weeks supply.

Number three, we are back to needing to be careful about what and where we eat and drink. One fantastic aspect of being back home was never needing to think about the cleanliness of food and water. Sure, people get sick from time to time from undercooked meat, and maybe there is an outbreak of some food borne illness occasionally, but generally speaking, one has confidence that when one eats at a restaurant or at someones house, they are not going to get sick. I do not have a similar confidence here, though--not after having fallen ill several times. Even the government has very little confidence, having shut down all the shawarma (like a gyro) shops in the country for a time a couple years ago after several bouts of mass illness stemming from the tasty little sandwich.

Although Jordan isn't the most difficult country in the world to live in as a foreigner--I can think of plenty of much more difficult places--it is true that I find myself needing to think more when I am here.

I don't have a car. Can I get to a certain location in a taxi? In a bus? How long will it take if I walk? When is the easiest time to get a taxi? Can I get back? Water is scarce. How can I plan my day to do laundry on water day? Should we share a flush? How much water is left? Can I shower today? Food and water can be dirty. Should I eat at this place? Is this salad clean? Was this water bottled? Is this the sandwich that does me in?

In eight months in America I grew accustomed again to doing whatever I wanted. I went wherever I wanted, when I wanted, ate whatever I wanted, wherever I wanted and--perhaps cavalierly--ran water whenever I wanted, and for however long I wanted. It is almost as if no thinking is required to live there (non-Americans, hold your jokes please). Thinking is required here, though. I'm glad to be back, but I do miss not needing to think.

Jordanian Dishonesty?

A lot of foreigners in Jordan--and not a few Jordanians too--think Jordanian society is dishonest, and not just dishonest, but markedly more dishonest than the average nation or society. And while this may seem to be true to some extent sometimes--taxi drivers can be particularly trying, and the agreed upon details of any business arrangement seem to always be open to later revision (see this post for a description of a full day of dishonesty)--one must always be careful not to exaggerate the tendencies of the society in which you live.

By this I mean that when you are living in a foreign country it is always tempted to be dragged down by the differences between it and your home country and by the bad things that happen to you there. Yes, it is true that each culture has its positives and negatives, but if you are not careful, all the things that are just different can become negatives. Also if you are not careful, the bad people you meet or the bad experiences you have can become representative of the country and society as a whole, and not just people or events that happen to live or occur in that country. One must work hard to be realistic about the foreign country in which you live--in our case, Jordan--and be truthful to yourself and others about both its positives and negatives.

Because here in the United States of America we experience dishonesty too. A few days ago we wrote about our car getting hit while parked on the side of the road as I was putting our 8 month old son in his car seat. Afterwards it made me think about the issue of relative safety between Jordan and America. Now it has me thinking about the issue of dishonesty.

I'm thinking about this issue of dishonesty because today I discovered the insurance information given to us by the driver who hit us was false. I asked her for her information, and she pulled out an official looking piece of paper with the name of the insurer (a well known national company) and all of her information on it, all of which turned out to be false. The policy number that I copied from this piece of paper didn't even have the required number of digits. She lied right to my face.

Not only this, when I called her--why she gave me false insurance information but her actual telephone number, I do not know--she quite aggressively told me that the accident was as much my fault as hers, because I had opened the car door as she was driving by. Again, this was also false. Yes, the door was open, but I hadn't just opened it, only to smack her car as she drove by. I was standing inside of it, my back to the street, strapping the kid in his car seat while parked in a legal parking spot on the side of the street. I was a part of the normal flow of the city street, something to avoid hitting like an oncoming car or a person walking on that same spot. Again, another lie, this time over the phone.

It's frustrating to be cheated and lied to. And although I can be cheated and lied to on a semi-regular basis in Jordan, events in my life this week have reminded me that dishonesty is not specific to Jordan. As if I needed reminding. Because in the country of Bernie Madoff, Enron, Arthur Anderson, WorldCom, rock solid intelligence on Iraqi WMD's, Mark Sanford and all sorts of Wall Street chicanery, we don't.

Safety

* We've taken quite a break from this blog as we've been in the United States and out of Jordan, but this post represents our return to regular blogging. In case anyone wants to know.

When people find out we've been living in the Middle East, or when we talk to people who want to talk about our lives in the Middle East, one of the first questions we get asked is this: "Is it safe there?"

Now, "safe" is a relative term. What one person means when they wonder about the safety about a place or an activity could be quite different from what another person means when they wonder about the same place or activity. And, as someone who has moved halfway around the world to live in a country and culture much different than mine and thus must deal with all the pitfalls (and joys) that this entails, perhaps my own definition of safety is different than the person asking me. On top of this, even my own perspective on safety changes depending on the activity. You will never catch me sky jumping, bungee jumping or working with teens, for instance, as all of those activities seem very unsafe to me for one reason or another.

So, although this question always has me wanting to break into the mind of the interrogator, my answer is always this: Jordan is in fact very safe. Jordan is not Iraq, which, although it is somewhat more stable now, I would call unsafe. Jordan is not Gaza, which was recently the scene of terrible fighting and bloodshed. Jordan is not even Beirut, which, although seemingly stable now, often seems to have the threat of civil unrest or Israeli incursion hanging over it. Jordan is safe.

But how safe is America? Two days ago as I was leaning over to put our 8 month old son in his car seat, a woman sped by in her car and smacked the open door that I was standing inside, perfectly oblivious that a car had managed to miss hitting me by perhaps a few inches. No one was hurt--although our little boy was strangely silent while stuck in his car seat for 30 minutes afterwards--but, as people say, it could have been worse. A few inches, a foot, closer to our car, and I'd be in a hospital bed right now. Maybe we all would be.

As I think about this incident, I think that if this had happened in Jordan, part of the narrative about it would have had something to do with the safety of living there. People would have bemoaned the crazy speeding habits of Middle Eastern drivers, the lack of order on the roads or something along those lines. The foregone conclusion might have been drawn that--although for different reasons than the usual--Jordan was not safe. I write about our experience the other day, though, to point out that bad things can happen anywhere. A lot of people seem to think that living in the Middle East brings us to the precipice of death. Without being too dramatic, though, this is the closest I have come to suffering extreme bodily injury since moving to Jordan in 2006, and the closest I've come in life--which includes a previous stint in Jordan between 1999 and 2001--since I rolled my car off an icy winter road after a date in high school and ended up upside down in the front yard of my girlfriends' parents.

Does this mean that there are no risks living in Jordan? No, but it doesn't preclude there being risks in America too. Because although when people ask how safe we are in Jordan they are wondering about the possibilities of being caught in the middle of a war or the victim of anti-American anger and aggression, the most unsafe I have felt over the past several years involved casually strapping my child into our parked car after leaving a coffee shop in south Minneapolis. As an American friend of ours in Jordan remarked, that would never happen in Jordan. Nobody uses car seats.

Away

It has been a long time since we posted, just taking a break from the blog. We have been travelling with the new babe and visiting family and friends for the past three months. We will be returning to Jordan soon. A few random pictures...

The View of Gaza from Jordan

Last night on the news we saw Israeli Defense Forces footage of precision strikes on what they said were various locations from which missiles had been fired into Israel. It was familiar looking footage; in America we see the same type during coverage of our wars. You know, grainy aerial shots with an "X" where the target is on the ground, followed by an explosion upon impact, after which we the viewer are supposed to take the word of the presenters that what is said to have been hit is really what was hit. Then we are supposed to be awed by the precision.

But what are Jordanians--around 60 percent of whom are of Palestinian origin--seeing on their news right now? And how are they reacting to this new crisis in Gaza? Since we're outside the country currently we obviously don't know exactly what they're seeing and how they're reacting to it. However, although we don't have access to regional television here, one can glean something of what Jordanians are seeing on their news now by looking at the pictures of the conflict they see every day when they open their newspapers. The following pictures are from the front page of the last three days of the Jordan Times, the English language daily in Jordan, but they reflect what's shown in the Arabic dailies too. I feel a bit voyeuristic presenting them here, but I think it's important to see what Jordanians are seeing regarding this conflict.

Sunday

Monday

Tuesday

According to the Times, the last picture is actually the result of one of those videos we saw on the news. Thus, two different looks at the same action, and in general, two different perspectives. And this second perspective is what Jordanians are seeing.

Gaza

The Israeli bombardment of the Gaza Strip is in its tenth day now. Since its beginning ten days ago I knew I had to say something on this blog about the situation, but in this time I have struggled to produce anything thought provoking, struggled to construct anything worth writing down that isn't cliche or isn't being said someplace else, by someone else, already. Someone on our travels here in the United States asked me for my thoughts on the subject and all I could come up with was that it was part of what seems like a never ending cycle of violence. Anyone, however, could have said that.

I will say, though, that what enough people are not saying is that violence will never solve this conflict between Israel and the Palestinians. Take a quick look at it. For 60 years the Palestinians have been fighting the Israeli state, but their situation only continues to deteriorate year after year after depressing year. For their part during these 60 years the Israelis have been fighting fire with fire (or is it the Palestinians who have been fighting fire with fire?). After all of their incursions, bombardments and raids, though--and for all of their American made higher tech equipment and weapons--is their security situation much or any better than it was 60 years ago? What is happening in Gaza is a tragedy. Unfortunately, violence is common and cliche, and cliche is easy. I am praying that eventually something more thought provoking will prevail.

The Justification of Pain

This post was started about a month ago, but was not finished until now. The context is a bit old, but the point remains.

A few days ago I read on the CNN ticker that the United States had bombed militants across the border from Afghanistan inside Pakistan. This is not the first time this has happened; in fact, I guess it's becoming common enough so that it's not really news anymore, since it was only reported at the bottom of the screen in the same place where information about Madonna's divorce and cricket scores are reported.

Tied to this, although we're a bit late in mentioning it, is the news that a U.S. commando team performed a raid across the Iraqi border into Syria--our neighbor to the north--two months or so ago. According to the New York Times, the commandos were going after "an Iraqi militant responsible for running weapons, money and foreign fighters across the border into Iraq". U.S. sources say that he was killed, while Syrian sources say that civilians were killed. It's hard to know who to believe. In response to the raid, though--as reported in this article in the online magazine Slate--the Syrians filed a complaint with the United Nations Security Council, shut the American School in Damascus and pulled out of a regional conference on Iraqi security. Even the Iraqi government, whose existence and success the raid was ostensibly designed to protect, protested against the action.

Again according to the New York Times, the actions in Pakistan and now Syria are based on "a legal argument that has been refined in recent months to justify strikes by troops and by rockets on militants in countries with which the United States is not at war." The article goes on to say that this concept is different from the doctrine of pre-emption--which the administration, you'll remember, used to justify invading Iraq--in that while the pre-emption concept is used to provide a rationale for going to war against a country and attacking governments and armies, this new concept is used to provide a rationale for attacking certain people or groups inside a country. So, I guess all the bases are covered now.

This new policy, though, makes me uncomfortable. For one, it once again ignores the basic concept of national sovereignty and says we in the United States should have the right to enter any country and do as we please if we think it is in our best interests. It says to the governments of these countries and their people that their interests, and their borders, don't matter. But just think how Americans would react if some country performed a similar raid on American soil for whatever reason. And it can't help the United States win friends in the world or in the region. A few posts ago we wrote about the antipathy towards the United States one experiences these days when living overseas. I don't think these kinds of actions will improve this situation.

But beyond this and in a way more important is the existential significance of this policy. It's disturbing to me that the American government seems to be spending so much time and effort these days coming up with creative arguments to justify hurting people. Think about it. In the past few years administration lawyers have been busy crafting inventive and separate arguments not only to justify pre-emptive strikes against a country but also raids against certain elements inside a country. The lawyers have also--don't forget--been busy crafting a definition to the exact meaning of torture, and have no doubt helped to decide that sending certain people from the U.S. to another country to be tortured excuses the United States from the accusation of the use of torture. So, we have now defined why we can hurt you, how we can hurt you and how much we can hurt you. Yay.

It's true that there are people and groups in the wide world who seek to do the United States harm. However, is the employment of violence all we have to offer as solutions to this problem? Have we no creative capacities to offer anything else? And must the administration spend so much time laying the groundwork for the use of violence, as if no other solution was possible or even desirable? Maybe I am different, but it bothers me that my government and country has placed such great priority recently on the justification of pain. Maybe if as much time was spent laying the groundwork for peaceful solutions to our problems, such justification wouldn't be necessary.

Merry Christmas!

Since arriving back in North America two weeks ago we have been greeted in Minnesota by temperatures 70 to 80 degrees Fahrenheit colder (about 21 to 26 degrees Celsius) than what we had been experiencing in Amman and in Vancouver where we now are with Annamarie's parents by a once in a lifetime snowfall for the area of almost two feet (around 60 centimeters) on Christmas Eve. For two people who have been living in a fairly dry, desert environment for the past 2 1/2 years, the Christmas trip home couldn't have been scripted any better! Merry Christmas everyone!

Gone Home, or Garbage Plane

A few days ago we flew back to the United States for Christmas, to introduce our new baby to friends and family and to just take a bit of a break from life in Jordan. We'll return to Jordan after a few months. Our direct flight on Royal Jordanian Airlines from Amman to Chicago was fairly uneventful, except for the man who shocked all of the stewards by emerging from the bathroom in the back of the plane and began casually meandering to his seat in the front of the plane literally as the wheels of the plane were touching down. In all the flying I have done, in many parts of the world and on many different airlines, this is something I have never seen before. The capper to it was his seeming unawareness--when screamed at to sit down by a stewardess--that he was doing something that in general the airlines quite frown upon. He just walked by her in no particular hurry and pointed towards the front, as if to mean that it was impossible for him to sit down at that time--no matter the position of the plane or the relative state of his safety--because he hadn't yet reached his seat.

Only after we had finally come to a complete stop and were allowed to exit, though, did we realize the carnage that had taken place on our 13 hour and 17 minute flight to Chicago. It dawned on us slowly at first as we struggled through the narrow aisle with our bags and our baby, but once we lifted our heads to observe our surroundings we could see that we were leaving behind an airplane drenched in garbage. There were newspapers strewn about everywhere, as if every passenger had one, and then deposited it on the floor not all put back together but as if each individual section was discarded separately after it had been read. Those in-flight magazines were scattered around as well, their readers apparently unable to slide them back into the pockets in front of them from where they came. There was food spilt on the floor and the seats, along with food wrappers and the plastic cups of a hundred different water requests, all of which somehow missed the post-meal pick-up and the last chance, pre-landing pick-up. There was paper thrown about, as if it had blown in with the wind. Row after row after row was coated with a jaw dropping amount of trash. "Do they treat their homes like this? I don't think so," a steward said to me.

Of course the steward was right. I have been in a number of homes in Jordan, and no, they do not treat them like a garbage dump. Hospitality is an important aspect of Jordanian culture, and a clean house is part of being a good host. Many do, however, treat the streets outside their homes like that. In fact, sometimes littering just seems to be a normal part of every day life. Kids and adults alike are always tossing what they don't need or want to use--be it pop cans, candy wrappers, styrofoam takeaway food containers or the ever popular plastic bags--on to the street. The garbage collectors in our neighborhood spend 10 to 12 hours each day just walking back and forth along the same small route, because once they've cleaned up an area, no doubt someone will have come by in the meantime and thrown to the street something they didn't want.

So it is this culture of littering that reared its head on board the plane with us, with every square inch of the plane taking the place of the streets of Amman and the airline stewards taking the place of our poor, overworked garbage collectors. The flight itself, as I said, was uneventful, which is good for a flight to be. But the site of our garbage plane, along with the brazen last minute bathroom user, made exiting the plane an event I'll not soon forget.

Something New

This afternoon as I started on my way to the bakery, after walking up our alley onto the circle near our apartment, I exclaimed out loud to myself--"whoa"--when I looked up and saw this:



Now, perhaps you've scanned this picture and found it most unremarkable, but this is because what startled me so was actually the sight of something quite simple: lanes. You see, for our 2.5 years here--and for how many years before this I don't know--this circle has had no lanes. It was just a big, wide, black hole--an unmarked circle in which as many cars as those driving wanted could squeeze in. What these lanes will change now, though, will be interesting to see, as more than one guest has commented to us that even on roads where there are lane markers, actually using them seemed optional. So, since the point of these new lanes is to use them, perhaps in my surprised reaction to their simple addition was hidden this simple sentiment: Good luck.

Happy Thanksgiving!

We celebrated Thanksgiving today like most people do in the States--sitting around the table and eating a big meal. We had some friends over for dinner and actually had some of the foods associated with Thanksgiving, like pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, butternut squash soup and cranberries too. We did not, though have turkey, which is of course the most important Thanksgiving food item. Frozen turkeys are available here at grocery stores in the more Western part of Amman, but they are quite expensive. You can also buy a live turkey downtown, but they are so small that after plucking them they get down to be about the size of a chicken. So, instead of buying an expensive turkey or a small turkey, we went with a Jordanian classic: rotisserie chicken. We bought them at my favorite chicken shop in Amman, and here are a few pictures of the place. Oh, and they have great shawarma too.

The Presidential Elelction: A Break from Antipathy

If you are an American, as I am, unless you live outside of the country I think it's hard to understand or even realize the antipathy that a lot of the rest of the world has felt towards America over these past several years. Sure, if you watch the news you might see a fleeting report about protesters greeting George W. Bush on an international trip or or some survey detailing anti-American sentiment, but on TV such antipathy seems distant and unreal, and if you are of a certain inclination, you might even think the reporter made it up. And you certainly don't have to deal with such antipathy; you can just turn the TV off. However, if you do live outside the country you know that such antipathy is real, and it sure isn't distant. It's right in front of your face, and you have to deal with it.

For instance, although not true of every non-American foreigner I know in Jordan, many I know or have met display, shall we say, a certain lack of enthusiasm for the direction the country has taken recently. Whether it's bewilderment over the war in Iraq or other foreign policies they view as heavy handed or finding humor in President Bush, a certain playful negativity or annoyance on their part is palpable. This antipathy is much more evident, though--and true for almost everyone--in the Jordanians I have met, whose negativity towards America is something different than playful. Here in the Middle East the negativity towards the American government is already pretty high because of America's near unconditional support for Israel, but it has ratcheted up even higher recently because of the invasion of and subsequent chaos in Iraq. People here are always quick to tell me they have no problem with the American people--which is true, they really don't--but they are just as quick to tell me they "hate" the American government, and I've been told over and over again that George W. Bush is a "terrorist" or a "dog" who "loves war," and even that they would like to "kill him."

All of this made the election of Barack Obama as President of the United States a welcome change to the usual negativity that surrounds the country. You see, even if you are an American who did not vote for him--and some of my friends and most of my family did not--you should know that his election is the most positive news about America to have been made in quite some time, and as an American living outside of America in the Middle East, I am craving positive news. And it's positive not just because of the specific man who won, but more so because of what that man represents: the first black American president.

Everyone here knows about America's history of slavery and segregation. And whether it's through movies or schooling, everyone also knows we still have racial issues and problems. But despite all this we now have a black president, and I think this sends a powerful, positive message to people about the possibilities of America. As I went to the store to buy a vacuum cleaner the morning after the election, the announcer on the radio in my taxi was talking about America's first black president. A few days ago an older friend nearby excitedly confirmed with me that Obama was America's first black president. And from the Los Angeles Times I saw this quote from a Jordanian writer and political analyst: "A lot of people told me they had tears in their eyes last night. I was one of them. I saw his speech. I was very moved. This is a lesson to us all, that blacks and whites in America can have such a shameful past between them, yet they come together and learn how to live together."

America has been fighting a war in Iraq for over five years now, apparently in an effort to bring democracy to the Middle East. Iraq may have had elections during this time, but the concept of democracy in this part of the world has been stained because of the methods used to bring it. I think with the election of Barack Obama, though, democracy may have regained some of its good name, and his election--as part of a vigorous, peaceful, public process--has done more for the cause of democracy than this war has done or will ever do. That a black man can be elected American president--and someone from a "minority" group in general--says a lot about the merits of democracy. No war can ever do as much. Again from the LA Times, quoting what I think are some very telling words from an Iranian merchant: "Let me tell you that now I believe in American democracy. Honestly, I did not think that Obama would be president. I thought that the invisible hands of the big trusts and cartels would not allow a black man to be president of the United States." And more words from the Jordanian: "Obama can make you once again respect the U.S. for its values and democracy and all those things we had forgotten about over the last eight years."

So if you are an American and didn't vote for Barack Obama, take heart in the knowledge that the extraordinary nature of his election--the first black American president--is something to feel good about. Even his foes recognize this. Sarah Palin said she was "proud" of Obama, and John McCain called his election "historic." And know that his election has brought positive news about America to places where there is and has been very little. I thought about these things as I walked up to our rooftop with the laundry Wednesday morning after the election. After years of seeing angry faces in response to American actions, I enjoyed waking up to find one American action to be the cause of so much worldwide good cheer. And I know he's just a man who is a politician and not a savior, but as I walked the final few steps and pushed our laundry through the rooftop door I found that the step his election represented--along with the respite from negativity--had filled me with good cheer too.

21 Days!

It's been almost one month since we last posted. Part of the reason for this is we lost our internet connection twice for a period of time. Mostly, though, it's because we had our first child--a son--three weeks ago today, and our time to blog has been fleeting. And, even if the time had been available, we really haven't spent much time outside the house talking to people or doing anything interesting. As a result, there hasn't been a lot to say anyway. For now, here are some highlights from his first 21 days.

A few hospital shots.

Everyone is a little tired these days.

Hanging out with some stuffed animals, and one real one.

Expensive!

We were out shopping the other day and saw this store. Maybe the owners are just being honest, but it seems like a different name might be better for business!

Debating Israel

About halfway through the American vice-presidential debate between Sarah Palin and Joe Biden the other night, Palin made a statement that literally made me raise my eyebrows. In the middle of a discussion about Israel and the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, and after Biden had expressed his support for Israel, she said this: "I'm so encouraged to know that we both love Israel, and I think that is a good thing to get to agree on, Senator Biden."

Actually, when she said this, I not only raised my eyebrows, but my mouth dropped open as well. I guess I just couldn't believe what she had just said. She loves Israel? I found this strange, this profession of devotion to another country in the middle of an American vice-presidential debate.

I don't want to leave Biden out, though. What prompted this pronouncement was a similar statement of devotion he had made several minutes earlier. "No one in the United States Senate has been a better friend to Israel than Joe Biden," he said. "I would have never, ever joined this ticket were I not absolutely sure Barack Obama shared my passion." So, she loves Israel and he is Israel's best friend. I hope nobody I know here was watching.

As I said, these statements were made in the middle of a discussion about the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. What struck me most about this discussion, though, was its complete focus on the Israeli side of the conflict, and the complete absence of the Palestinian aspect. For example, Palin said this: "We will support Israel. A two-state solution, building our embassy, also, in Jerusalem, those things that we look forward to being able to accomplish, with this peace-seeking nation... It's got to be a commitment of the United States of America, though. And I can promise you, in a McCain-Palin administration, that commitment is there to work with our friends in Israel."

Again, though, not to be outdone, Biden took his turn. After calling the Middle East policies of President Bush "an abject failure," he said this: "We will change this policy with thoughtful, real, live diplomacy that understands that you must back Israel in letting them negotiate, support their negotiation, and stand with them, not insist on policies like this administration has."

I added the italics and the bolding above to help point out that this discussion of what we call the Israeli/Palestinian conflict left out the Palestinians. Palin said she and McCain would "work with Israel", and Biden said that he and Obama would "back Israel", but neither took the time to discuss what their policies would be toward, or the place of, the other party in this conflict, the Palestinians. Shouldn't this be part of the discussion? After all, we don't call it the "Israeli conflict"; we call it the "Israeli/Palestinian conflict". There are two groups of people involved.

Maybe I should have heard all of this in the context of what was going on in the debate at the time--the strangely politically necessary affirmation of adoration for the State of Israel. However, I can't help but think that their subsequent statements spotlight everything that is wrong with American policy on this issue--the Palestinians aren't even considered.

These two American politicians love Israel, are best friends with Israel and have a "passion" for Israel. They want to "support Israel", "work with our friends in Israel", "back Israel" and "support their negotiation." But what about the other guys, the Palestinians? And what kind of peace process leaves their needs and even their mention out of the discussion entirely? Surely Palestinians have needs worth backing or supporting. Surely we can work with them and support their negotiation. Perhaps they are even worth loving and befriending too. My point is that there are two sides in this conflict, with real people behind the arguments and ideologies of both sides. Recognizing just one of these sides will never lead to reconciliation, and to true, just and lasting peace. It will instead continue to marginalize and anger the ignored.

The Eid Begins

Ramadan ended on Monday--bringing to a close a month during which Muslims are supposed to abstain from food, drink, smoking and sex from sunup to sundown-- ushering in the Eid al-Fitr, a three day holiday celebrating the end of this time of fasting.

Although the whole normal pattern of life changes during this month and it is even illegal to eat, drink or smoke in public (much less have sex), it is difficult to know exactly how much of the population actually does fast. I made a point of asking nearly every taxi driver I met during the month if they were fasting, and although most said they were, several surprised me by saying they were not. One of these non-fasters even told me that any driver who proclaimed to be fasting was lying. Almost everyone that I know well fasted, even most of my younger, unmarried male friends who aren't normally among the most religious and who never, ever go to the mosque. My own feeling just from talking to and knowing people is that most Jordanians at least start the month with the intention of fasting for the entire time. Whether they are still fasting by the end of the month is another story--one taxi driver told me a lot of people drop off after a couple weeks--and I know sometimes people might miss a day or two if they get sick or if their will power just isn't as strong that particular day. I think not being able to smoke might be the most difficult aspect of the fast for some, although others have told me it is not being able to drink water. Whatever the case, it's probably safe to say that most Jordanians fast for most of the time.

Eid al-Fitr--which means, literally, the Festival of Fast-Breaking--begins with the sighting of the new moon, signifying the beginning of the next Islamic month. Ramadan can be a trying time for many--a couple weeks ago the worker behind the cash register at our little local grocery store was asleep with her head on the conveyor belt when we arrived to pay. Faithfully making it through the month can also give people a sense of proud accomplishment. In any case, when it is over, the Eid is greeted with great enthusiasm. Jordanians are not the most expressive people, but Monday night the streets were bustling with excited, smiling people. Also, in Jordan, fireworks traditionally signify the beginning of the Eid, and on Monday night they were exploding all over the city, from the small but piercing noise makers thrown by children to the large, colorful displays of the type usually reserved for New Years or Independence Day celebrations.

Besides fireworks, though, there are many other traditions associated with Eid al-Fitr. As mentioned above, the Eid is a three day holiday, and during these three days everyone is supposed to make visits to their family and friends. Just to make sure people are home when you go, though, the first day of these visits is traditionally set aside for male relatives to visit the homes of their female relatives. Also, since there are a lot of visits to make--Jordanian families are quite large--they are supposed to be short, perhaps around 15 to 20 minutes. Coffee is served, as are sweets--usually some kind of chocolate. People are supposed to look their best on these visits, so many buy new clothes and get their hair cut or styled. In fact, the barber I know near our apartment told me the Eid is always one of his busiest and best times of the year. Even children get new clothes; yesterday I saw two little neighbor girls dressed in new white dresses and matching white bonnets, with a blotch of red lipstick somewhat clownishly over applied to their faces. Actually, their outfits were the kind of outfits one might see on little girls at an Easter Sunday church service. Many times kids also get gifts. Unfortunately--from my perspective--a popular gift of choice here seems to be some kind of fake weapon, like a cap gun or plastic sword.

Despite all this visiting--and despite the fireworks and new cap guns--the Eid is generally a calm, peaceful time, especially during the day, and especially after the first day. As I write, our neighborhood is very quiet, and no doubt people are enjoying this time between the end of their challenging holy month and the beginning of a new month of normalcy.

Back from Cyprus

Recently we returned to Jordan after a nine day trip to the Mediterranean island of Cyprus; hence the long silence on this blog. We've been to Cyprus several times now, although not because we especially love it there or find it to be a particularly special place; we go there because it's close, we know people and can usually stay for quite cheap, there are beaches and it is out of the Middle East. Here are a few pictures of our time.

The beach in Larnaca, the southern coastal city where we stayed.

McDonald's, obviously, where we ate for the first time in about seven years, since for our first night we had no food in the house where we were staying. I wouldn't say we were missing much.

Our neighbors at the house where we stayed grilled chicken one night. They were kind enough to bring us a plate.

A sign in Larnaca.

A door in downtown Larnaca.

Drinking Cypriot coffee in a little cafe in Nicosia--the capital city located in the middle of the island.

Some kind of construction was going on in Nicosia at the church behind this green fence.

Dog Days

I don't really know what the phrase "Dog Days of Summer" is supposed to mean, but whatever it means, I think we're in it. Although the website we check for the forecast is always several degrees lower than the temperatures given in the newspapers here, beginning August 17, for example, the recorded highs in Fahrenheit on it have been 95, 99, 99, 95, 88, 88, 90, 88, 93, 99, 97, 100 and 97. In Celsius, that's 35, 37, 37, 35, 31, 31, 32, 31, 34, 37, 36, 38 and 36. Today it's supposed to be 94/34. Next week the forecast calls for highs in Fahrenheit of 93, 93, 95, 101, 101, and 99. Or, in Celsius, 33, 33, 35, 38, 38, 37 and 36. What I'm trying to say is, August has been hot.

It's been tough for the cat too.

Some Days Are Like This

A few days ago we were walking not far from our apartment when an empty Coke can landed on the street behind us, having been flung from the rooftop of the building at our side. Several months earlier a rock thrown from the same rooftop had also just missed us, so I shot into the building and ran full speed up the stairs, ready to catch the perpetrators before they could flee to the safety their homes. When I arrived at the top I could hear several voices behind the door to the roof, fumbling for keys and excitedly whispering, "hurry, hurry, hurry!" I thought they were on their way out, so I didn't open the door. Instead, though, they locked the door to prevent me from coming onto the roof. So, silently, I waited.

After just a couple minutes, the keys grew active again, the lock clicked, and I readied myself just inches from the door--for full theatrical effect--to startle whoever was behind it when they came out. And when they did come out, they were indeed startled. However, I was startled too, for walking through the door with a young boy and young girl was a woman wearing shorts and a t-shirt--an outfit she would never wear on the street--who appeared to be their mother. "Don't come in! Don't come in!" she said, jumping back behind the door. She may have been a little frightened at seeing a strange man standing there, especially considering the state of her somewhat scandalous attire in front of a man she didn't know.

"I don't want to come in," I said, "but I want to know why a Coke can just came from this roof and nearly hit us on the street" (I couldn't remember the word for "throw"). She played dumb at first, insisting she had no idea what I was talking about. Then, after I persisted, she said that yes, the can had originated from the rooftop, but it was an accident that it had almost hit us. I brought up that this was the second time something originating from that roof had landed near us on the street, with the first projectile being a rock. "Really?" she said, looking surprised while glancing at her son. "Yes, really," I replied. "I wouldn't be so upset if this wasn't now the second time."

She eventually left the safety of the roof and with her children we began walking down the stairs. She apologized for the flying Coke can. She also said such an incident wouldn't happen again. Both apology and promise, though, came without any admittance of guilt on the part of any of the rooftop pranksters. I wasn't entirely satisfied with this, but I decided it was all I was going to get, so I left.

A couple hours later we were at home waiting for a new mattress to be delivered. We had agreed on a price beforehand and paid half at the shop, so when it came we just had to pay the other half, plus the 5 dinar delivery fee we had also agreed on. Things are never this easy here, though, and when it came and it was time to pay the rest, the delivery charge had suddenly jumped to 20. Now, relatively speaking an extra 15 dinars is not a huge sum of money, but a prior accord had been reached, so 5dinars is what I was going to pay.

"I'm not going to pay 20," I said. "We made an agreement."
"But I came from far away," said the driver, who was probably in his late teens or early 20's and was not present when the deal was made.

We continued with these basic arguments for some time in broken record fashion until the driver asked to call Ali, the man at the shop with whom we had made the aforementioned agreement. So, I called Ali's cell phone. No answer. I called it again. No answer. The driver then called the office land line. No answer. He tried it again. No answer. I tried Ali's cell several more times, with still no answer. The driver called the office several more times, until finally someone answered. He gave the phone to me. Ali was not there, though; he had gone home for the day. And after I started explaining the issue to the person who was there, I mysteriously lost the connection. When I called back, there was no answer. Another try, and no answer. It appeared the office would be no help in sorting out the issue.

After some seconds of confusion, the driver and I shared our main arguments a few more times. Then, after several awkward seconds of silence, I finally decided it was over. We had an agreement, and five dinars was all he was getting. I felt bad, since he was not involved in the original bargaining process and could very well have sincerely been expecting 20. This is difficult to gauge, though. It isn't always easy here to tell who is being a cheat and who isn't, so I went with what I had expected from the beginning. Begrudgingly, the driver took his 5 dinars and left.

A few hours after this I left the house to run an errand. By the time I finished it was late in the evening, and I went to a busy section of road to wait for a taxi to take me home. When I got one, though, the driver didn't turn on his meter, even though it is against the law not to. This is not unusual, and many times when this happens I tell the driver politely not to "forget" abut the meter. Sometimes they turn it on, sometimes they don't, sometimes they claim it is broken. This time, though, I let it go, since I travelled the route often and knew basically what the fare would be.

Unfortunately, when we reached our destination and I asked the driver how much he wanted, the price he quoted was at least twice what it would have read on the meter. So, a confrontation ensued yet again. The distance was short, I said, and I wasn't going to pay so much. "And why didn't you turn on your meter?" I asked. He argued back, angry that I was refusing to pay his price and telling me why I should. These arguments can go on for a while, but at this point in the day, after the previous events that had occurred, I was tired. So, I just put the money I owed--the real price, not the fake--on the passenger seat and walked away, not saying another word. Some days are like this here, but on this day, I had had enough.

The View from Our Apartment

Every time we look out the front windows of our apartment our eyes are inevitably drawn to this garbage bin, which sits directly in front of our building. Often it is overrun with wild cats, occasionally it is the source of stale smelling black smoke when a certain neighbor boy sets fire to its contents and almost always it is overflowing with trash. One time I even witnessed our next door neighbor fling a bag of trash from his third floor balcony in the direction of the bin in lieu of actually walking down and placing the trash in the bin. He missed.

On this particular day, however, it seemed to be overflowing with more trash than usual, so I took a picture. It was water day in our neighborhood, so probably while everyone was busy sweeping and mopping their apartments, they were also throwing out a lot of accumulated trash, not all of which made it into the bin. If you look closely, in and around the bin you can see at least three of the aforementioned cats, an old chair, a pile of brush and a stream of water which is either run-off from someones cleaning or unfortunate overflow from the tanks on our roofs. Enjoy the view.

Why Not Non-Violence?

Several posts ago I described discussing at a conference I attended in Lebanon how dispossession was the root cause of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, and not Islam, as others may think. I also mentioned in that post my general support for the Palestinian cause. As I alluded to, though, I have serious problems with the way Palestinians fight for their cause, which was discussed at this same conference in sessions about peacemaking.

During the conference there were two joint sessions with representatives from the Muslim community in Beirut, and both times the question of peacemaking in the context of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict was raised. I went straight to the point in the first session, asking one of the Muslim representatives this question: "Why has there been no large scale movement of non-violence in the Palestinian community against Israel, such as the movements of Martin Luther King Jr. in the United States and Gandhi in India? I believe such a movement would bring Palestinians the desired results more quickly." My question was serious and sincere, and in the absence of a serious movement of non-violence in the 60 years of bloodletting since the creation of the state of Israel, I really hoped for some thoughtful reflections on this topic. Who knows, maybe there were perfectly good reasons for the lack of such a movement. The answer I received, though, disappointed me, as the gist of the response was this: Israel has attacked the Palestinians, so the Palestinians have the right to defend themselves. That was it. End of story, next question. No reflective consideration as to the merits or effectiveness of non-violence was given. Just a brush off.

The second joint session was held a few days later at an Islamic center in a Shi'ite neighborhood that was heavily bombed by Israel in their 2006 war with Hezbollah. The imam of the center discussed Palestinian resistance to Israel, but his consideration of non-violence was also disappointing, as it basically mirrored that of the previous session: Israel has attacked the Palestinians, so the Palestinians have the right to defend themselves. He even compared the use of violence on an enemy to the use of chemotherapy on cancer. Although both chemotherapy and violence cause all sorts of unwanted, undesirable side-affects, he said, they can also bring about positive results.

Now, I wasn't necessarily expecting any of the representatives there to side with non-violence and/or call on Palestinians to begin a non-violent movement. I'm also not saying their responses--basic statements on the right to self-defense--were anything out of the ordinary, or different from what most people in this world would have said or believe. After all, pacifists or adherents of non-violence are a minority in this world, and more than likely you are not one of their number.

As I said, though, their responses were still extremely disappointing to me. However, they were disappointing not so much because I didn't like or agree with them, but more so because so little thought went into them. I believe there is a place for non-violence, but in each case the question of non-violence was swiftly whisked aside and instead violence was defended, without even the tiniest reflection as to whether non-violence had any merit at all, or whether the more acceptable violent tactics were even working to better the lives of Palestinians or helping them to reach their goals. I mean, as I alluded to in my question from the first session, non-violent tactics worked for Gandhi against the British and for Martin Luther King, Jr. against the American government. Meanwhile, the Palestinians have been fighting the State of Israel with bombs and guns now for 60 years and their situation has only gotten worse. Again, I believe the cause is just, but how long will it be before new methods are used to fight for this cause, and how long will it be before non-violence gets a serious look, and not just reflexive rejections?

Taste the Reconciliation

Just before we went to Lebanon at the end of June about 18 months of struggle between Hezbollah and the Lebanese government--followed by a couple weeks of violent fighting in the streets of Beirut--ended. What brought an end to this struggle were talks initiated by Prince Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa al Thani of Qatar, which were held in the capital of Qatar, Doha. The work of Qatar and the prince to help bring an end to the deadlock was not lost on the Lebanese people, and we saw signs all around Beirut thanking them for their involvement. Below are two of them.

This one says, "We all say thank you Qatar."

Even Haagen-Dazs got in on the act with a new marketing campaign, offering the "Doha Agreement Cone." It was tempting, if only to have the opportunity to say "I'll have the Doha Agreement Cone please," but we just took the picture instead. Tasting the reconciliation required spending more money than we were willing for ice cream.