Biff and Julie & Ban and Jeelan

I feel like I haven’t written anything personal lately. I hear Katy in my head laughing at how many news/political/humanitarian tinged things I have posted on this blog – thus I figured I’d take a minute to talk about two of my favorite – and smallest – friends in Jordan.

In Baqa’a, Biff and I have found a home with our friend Wael and his family. In particular, his two nieces, Ban and Jeelan, have become like our little sisters.

Jeelan is two years old, and over the year we’ve known the family, she’s literally grown up right before our eyes. Now she’s talking and sassing us left and right. Seen below, she demonstrates every possible use of a telephone. If you can imagine her little high pitched voice in the last photo, alo? meen ma3ee? 

Ban, her older sister, just turned 5. Yet from the way she talks, you’d think she’s much older. We die laughing when she tells us stories — she always begins with, “Lemma ana kunt sagrera… When I was little…” — BAN you’re FIVE!

Nonetheless sometimes we do forget how small she is because she’s so smart. She loves to learn, and everyone is always teaching her something new. Often Biff and I will be sitting talking and Ban will walk up to us “Darrisuunee ingleezee!… Teach me English!” She’s even starting tossing English into her sentences when she talks.

A few weeks ago, we were all at the mall and Ban’s dad wanted her to stay in the car with him so we could shop quickly. Ban, who knows exactly how to get what she wants, looked at me pleadingly.. “Miss Julie, ma biddi adul bil CAR….. Miss Julie, I don’t want to stay in the CAR!”

The best part of this is that the two girls consider us to be their friends. Ban introduces me to her cousin: “This is my friend… Miss Julie.”

The girls sit and play with us during our whole visit, distracting us from adult conversation (“Mom, she is MY friend.”) with games, songs, and drawings. And of course, Biff and I love it. In fact we’ve learned loads of great Arabic games from the two girls… ikabaruu! … see below at the Children’s museum.

Who would have thought two of our best new friends in Jordan would be under the age of five? And the rest of them would consist of 100 six to fifteen year olds at the Orphan Welfare Association?

Oh well, at least we have each other! See attractive teaching photo below.

Look, I’m cooking!

 

 

I’m cooking — and I’m enjoying it! Who would have thought…

I spent the day with a family I’ve become close with here…

Wael and Thaer, two brothers who volunteer at the Association in Baqaa — Inas, their sister, whose oldest (although only 4 yrs old) daughter, Ban, is in my English class (see adorable photo below) — plus their other sister, Leemya, and mother, Yusra.

So anyway, they are a wonderful and warm family that has become a big part of my experience here! Yusra has been slowly but steadily teaching me how to cook…. and this was my most interactive endeavor. 3 hours sitting and rolling dough and then stuffing individual balls with spinach … then white cheese … then yellow cheese … then potatoes … then meat….  ”  4ras  ” ….  AND it was delicious!

“Yeah that’s true… So, I am your family here.”

I really can’t pass an hour in Jordan without thinking to myself, something along the lines of, “people here are SO nice.” Yet sometimes, it merits a blog post. Really, the kindness of my friends here is something I feel like I don’t know how to possibly repay… today it is that feeling of overwhelmed amazement, weighing on me, that compells me to write this blog at 1:30 AM. As I told Nadine, sometimes I feel like the only way to return their all-encompassing kindness is to tell my American friends/family about it.

 

1) First thing first, I went to see Alaa, Nisreen’s sister. I am teaching a Tawjihi English Review Class (Tawjihi = a really important test, taken by high school seniors, which determines their future course of study/college acceptance) at Al Baqa’a Camp. Alaa is currently in her Tawjihi year, and she offered to give me her English books so I could copy them for class material — which I should mention are really important books, which she passed to me without hesitation. As if that wasn’t nice enough, she took an hour to sit with me and explain the intricacies of Tawjihi; she could tell I was nervous because the Jordanian/American systems are so different. Oh, and Saleh, her 3rd grade younger brother, kept offering me tea/milkshake/coffee as if he was the man of the house :)

 

2) Later on, after my class at Al-Baqa’a Camp, I went to visit the Qannas family. I connected with them last week – they are my Fairfield U friend (and occasional Arabic tutor) Bayan’s relatives! The first time we met, the family welcomed me to their home for a long evening of kanafeh, tea, and warm conversation; all this and they had never met me before! When they invited me to come back following my class at Baqa’a, I was so happy to go. BUT again, the kindness was overwhelming.

First, Abu Khaldoun (father) drove all the way through the refugee camp to pick me up — next, Um Khaldoun (mother) unveiled a HUGE feast of more delicious arabic food than I have seen in a long time .. all sghrul bait – homemade! — the evening again passed quickly, 4 hours flying by, with conversation, tea, and even a recent wedding video of Khaldoun (son) & his wife. I brought sweets along that I gave the family as a gift – trying to repay some of their generosity – YET moments later THEY presented me with a gift…. beautiful necklaces and jewelry that are just my style. Can’t beat Jordanians (/Palestinians) at hospitality, wallah (by god!)

Upon leaving, I tried to insist on a taxi. But the Qannas family refused. “We are like your family here!” and off we went. Both times they have driven me home…and both times its been a difficult adventure. Amman is not an easy city to find your way along, especially in the dark, and ESPECIALLY with an ajnabi (foreigner) trying to give you directions. But everytime we took a wrong turn — and I got a chagrined look, apologizing extensively – the Qannas looked at me like I was crazy, Shu malish? What’s bothering you?, because they truly didn’t feel annoyed by my inconvenience.. and couldn’t understand why I was apologizing.

 

3) As if all that wasn’t enough for one day…. then I checked my bag and saw I had missed calls from Nisreen. Because, of course, in typical Julie form I forgot to text her and say that I left the Baqa’a refugee camp ok. Once it got late, she called me a bunch — worried that I was unaccounted for and potentially wandering around the refugee camp in the dark. I didn’t see the calls for an hour … and had her worried enough to cross check my whereabouts with Nadine and Rich!

When I saw her later that night (after accidently waking her up to get directions to her home, so I could return the book that her sister lent me even though she needed it for school the next day) I apologized emphatically for worrying her. Like the Qannas family, she looked at me like I was crazy – crazy for thinking it would inconvenience her to thinkg/worry/look after me.

N: “I know you’re independent and can take care of yourself, but I’m always thinking of you anyway”

Me: “I need it, I mean, its not like I have family here”

N: “Yeah that’s true…. So, I am your family here“

 

I came home feeling burdened by a weight of kindness that you cannot repay, nor that is ever expected to be repaid. To Alaa, Saleh, Qannas family, and Nisreen this “bending over backward” kind of kindness that continues to amaze me is normal for someone you care about.  As Nadine said, “throw out all the definitions” of friends, guests, hospitality, gifts, giving, and family. Here is just different.

 

 

In a good way. And I’m happy (and I’m sure my family too)

to have such good friends here looking after me.

Al Baqa’a refugee camp

Back-tracking a bit, I want to share about my visit on Friday to a Palestinian refugee camp with my friend Nisreen (local) and Maya (fulbright).

Al Baqaa camp is the largest refugee camp in Jordan, home to over 100,000 people (Jordan, in general, has 2 million Palestinian refugees —  the most Palestinian refugees of another other state). The camp itself was created in 1968, but the residents are refugees from both the 1948 and 1967 Arab-Israeli wars.

I have worked a great deal on Palestinian refugee issues… I interned for the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestinian refugees in Jordan — then I interned for the US State Department PRM bureau, which provides funds to UNRWA in order to support Palestinian refugees (in 2011, PRM provided roughly $250 million in funding to UNRWA) — then to top it all off, I wrote my capstone paper (60+ pages!) on Palestinian youth human capital. And thats leaving aside the fact that I have majority Jordanian-Palestinian friends (*friends who were born in Jordan but their family is/was from Palestine — this makes up about 60% of Jordan’s popuation) and I travelled Palestine multiple times.

 

YET my experience actually in a Palestinian refugee community is limited.. a visit here and there to an UNRWA school or health clinic – plus a drive through accompanied by Nisreen and Khalid, who worried about me walking around one by myself.

So for me, this was a big deal. and I was kteer excited/nervous/happy.

 

Our visit was to the Orphan’s Welfare Assocation (OWA) — basically a community center for all the refugee youth, not just orphans. The OWA has weekend programs for the students, enrichment activities/field trips, as well as provides extra schooling during the week. The overcrowded UNRWA schools operate on a double shift, meaning students get only a partial day of school (morning shift or afternoon shift) and no extracurriculars — therefore OWA provides classes to fill the gap and create constructive activities for the kids. Its like a Boys and Girls club from the States, with a lot more time to fill.

The kids were adorable… a huge range of ages sat in one medium size classroom, that fit them all, but not with enough room to play. Instead the program had them doing an Arabic version of Simon Says in their seats – and singing songs (all centering around “baladna” our country, Palestine). Energetic, excited, bubbly… I had a ton of fun with them.

 

After a little while, some of the volunteer staff offered to talk us on a tour of the camp. We walked around and chatted: learning about the expansion of the camp as more refugees poured in and as families grew — the transition from tents to brick to concrete homes — the ongoing commitment to a “right to return” — the difficulty of overcrowded and poorly funded schools — the ongoing committment to education. The streets were narrow and littered with trash (around one corner we saw children digging through trash). It was definitely a poor place with a feeling of desperation.

But on the flip side, as you often hear about places like this.. the people remained so nice and hospitable. The guys taking us around were young & all lived in Baq’a… they made jokes & helped us out with colloquial vocabulary… at one point we even stopped in one of the guys’ uncles’ home. And of course we were invited for soda and ma’mul (date cookies, homemade!). At a home with so little, as complete strangers, from America no less!.. we were welcomed and received with genuine warmth.

 

After our walk around, again we sat and enjoyed the company of the volunteers. At one point, the OWA director asked me about the tour… how did I find Baq’a camp? “was it miserable?”

I didn’t know how to answer..

yes? yes it was miserable to see children picking through trash and houses that lack a roof and families of 10 living in a home smaller than my apartment. I didn’t want him to think I was naive or lying… of course I saw what makes the camp miserable.

but also, no. no the people were not just miserable. The children laughed and played just like those at an afterschool program at ABRHS, Thair’s aunt explained that education was the highest prize in their community and stuffed us full of homemade dessert, and the staff sitting around us had all gone through OWA community center and now were back leading it themselves..  There is a rich life in the camp — and I didn’t want them to think I missed that.

I answered with a mention of my impressions above.. and the fact that I would never presume to know a place well enough to label it miserable or not after only a 4 hour visit. That seemed to be the right answer. And its true.. I still need a lot more time to understand Baq’a camp.

 

 

Luckily, I’ll get it. Nisreen and I are planning programs for the kids every Friday… so in’sha’allah I will get my chance at “working on Palestinian refugee issues” directly, hand in hand with the people themselves.

“its the journey, not the destination”

High: I had a great night at friends’ apartment in Jabal Webdeh. Nadine and I visited our friends for dinner — but first, we joined them as they thanked their landlord with homemade chocolate cookies. Their landlord & her extended family all greeted us warmly, and before we knew it we were sitting down swapping stories and learning about their lives. It was great practicing our Arabic… everyone of us jumped in, with no embarrassement or fear of judgement, speaking in Arabic and laughing together. After one round of soda, then another of coffee, we said goodnight and went up for a now late dinner on the rooftop veranda…. eggplant & spagetti followed by nutella under a starry sky.. doesn’t get much better!

Low: The only two goals Nadine and I had today were to 1) go to the popular gym, Sports City, to run and 2) go to the bank and open an account. Both failed.

But I can hardly call it a low.. Simply because something about Jordan makes  stuff like that all ok. I am a pretty high strung, time conscious, by the book American back in the States – but here in Jordan, I become a relaxed and laidback Jordan. “Inshallah” we will achieve our objectives (god willing)… but if not, whatever, its the journey, not the destination that matters.

1) We couldn’t catch a cab to Sports City nor could we figure out how to walk there. So instead we jogged around a neighborhood and stumbled upon a little park… the guard welcomed us and wouldn’t let us pay the entrance fee — invited us in for free to finish our run. An even better run than expected!

2) We waited in line for almost an hour to talk to a bank rep… but when we did she quickly informed us that, actually, the system was down and setting up new accounts was not possible today. And that was all, no better turn out or unexpected happy surprise like above… but for some reason that was ok. Nadine and I laughed it off, chalked up the hour spent in the bank to another roomie bonding sesh, and headed off to lunch. Something about the Arab world makes you laid back, with a good sense of humor and perspective — you need both to survive! — and I like it.

Weirdo: As I said, Nadine and I joined our friends in visiting their landlord tonight. Our friend, Teresa, baked the landlord and her family cookies as a thank you for their kindess and accommodation during the move. In return, the family welcomed us to sit and spend time with them – all 6 of us. They brought us soda and coffee and spoke slowly to help us keep up conversation in Arabic. After we left, one of our friends commented that she felt we owed them another thank you gift — because they “one upped” our chocolate chip cookies with such a nice evening.

But as if that wasn’t enough, later on in the night we heard a knock – and the landlord’s son was at the door…. bringing us a box of store-bought, fancy desserts! It was too much kindness and thoughtfulness to handle; we were all so surprised. And one-upped again!

“This means war”… and so the hospitality battle has begun.