Woke up late, plans for morning visit to see Golan heights out the window, instead washing and diary updating called. We slept until 11.30 enjoying the little puffs of wind that occasionally came through the much appreciated window. Then we were up and I started to catch up on writing while Djalma, once again, saw to the washing which got a decent wash in William's semi automatic machine – the yellow removed from white pants and T-shirts and the mud from the clothes we were wearing in the Dead Sea. We spent most of the day talking to William, an American English teacher who has been in Jordan for about three years, and listening to his many stories about living in Jordan, many of his experiences echoing our own observations travelling through Muslim countries. It was fascinating stuff, really interesting to talk to an ex-pat about the cultural differences especially the religious beliefs and how they effect everyday life and yet don't extend to all areas of life and the inconsistencies and contradictions that are so head bending to outsiders but yet are happily and readily, unquestionably accepted by Jordanians.
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| From Irbid, Jordan |
Djalma, classroom sick, had made a date with Rohan to visit her class in the afternoon and so disappeared off to make some new friends while I stayed in the flat talking to William, I don't think I've ever talked so much before, it was really good and very enlightening. It was also really good to have a damn good vent about some of the things which were difficult to deal with or impossible to understand, things like respect and power within families and then how rules suddenly change when dealing with people outside their village, in the city or with foreigners but what really has struck me is the lack of gentleness when people deal with each other. It was difficult to see children manhandled by their parents or slightly older children pushed around by much older children, seemingly without much if any affection or care. Even I was pushed around a bit by William's father (near the Dead Sea) when I went to leave the guest room to help the other clean the house and he grabbed me by the arm, none too gently at all to stop me from going and helping, then ordered me to sleep. I knew it was done because I was a guest and he didn't want me to work but it didn't feel respectful more like politely threatening.
Djalma returned after the class finished to inform me that he was going out with the boys to be shown the town and that I would have to make my own way to Mohammad's house for the dinner Rohan was cooking us. I obliged but grudgingly, not impressed that I was make my own way through a town full of restless, bored young men who were probably of the mind that all western women were easy and fair game to harass. True to form I ended up getting lost, found my way back to the right road and then when I ended up on the correct street I had to wait outside one of the house blocks for Djalma to find me because I had completely forgotten which building they lived in, embarrassing.
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| From Irbid, Jordan |
Dinner was rice with chicken, mushrooms and potatoes and damn good, I ate far too much and after we finished up and it was time for us to go I waddled rather than walked back. We met William back in his flat and ended up talking to 4am about everything. Early start in the morning, yikes.
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