Long overdue thoughts from Jordan (early April)

My supermarket isn’t there anymore – it has been flattened.

Where there once were holes now stand buildings, and where there once were buildings now stand holes.

I walk downtown and take a serveece to my own neighborhood – I had forgotten that they are now at the top of the hill. I take it up to near the 2nd circle. My Internet café is closed. The chicken&fries guy is now a snazzy snack shop. The pizza place is joined with the burger place, with a sweet shop in the middle. There’s a new bakery – how can this neighborhood support 3? I really hope Diamond Bakery didn’t shut down, too. After a couple of weeks they got used to me buying $0.25 worth of bread at a time ~ 10 pieces of pita. I don’t have the patience to look for my fruit and vegetable stores – I used to oscillate between 3 or 4 different ones, and I want Reem. The stand is the same – that’s a relief. The last time I was here they had already institute the numbering system, so it wasn’t too confusing, except that my numbers was either an 8 or a 7 (I couldn’t tell if it was v or ^), but it all worked out in the end.
Walking down Zahran Street, it’s amazing to see street signs, English, and numbers on buildings. My apartment building is still there, with a sign that there is a flat available to rent. I am tempted to see how much cheaper it is than my current place in Jerusalem.
I walk down the newly cobbled rainbow street. The Egyptian camp that sprang up last summer for the workers has been disbanded. There are little rock parks and look out points and benches. Al Quds Cafeteria has totally been redone – it’s still a tiny store with falafel on toasted rolls, but the outside rock façade make it look fancy, as does the giant photo of the royal family. Meandering down to Books@café, it is mostly same, same. In general all these foreigners look the same – I just don’t recognize them anymore. I can’t believe that I lived here for a year, and how much has changed since then. Hopefully I have changed and grown up, too.

The trip was filled with near- misses, but it was fabulous:
I almost had to pay for the whole taxi to take me from the Damascus gate to Allenby, but at the final moment, as I was putting my things in the car, some Swedes showed up and we all shared the normal price.

I almost had to take a taxi back to Amman on my own, but then some Australians were confused and overwhelmed, so we shared.

D almost didn’t show to meet me for dinner and argilah, even though I went to the other side of town to find her.

I almost didn’t call DS. Luckily I got to his house just in time, right before the parade of houseguests, in town for an environmental conference. The guests from Lebanon had just met many members of my Arava family – what a small world.

I almost said no to the party invitation, but had no other plans at 11:30 on a Thursday night. So we piled into a couple of cars and drover out on the airport road, towards the fancy country club where the elite Ammanis go swimming and horseback riding.

We almost got into the party – but didn’t. Everyone was there. Music was blasting. People were drinking and bopping in their cars, and touching up makeup while waiting to get into the parking lot of the fairground. They thought they had the right wasta, but somehow it just didn’t work out. Instead I sat in the back seat, on the side of the road, people watching and listening to a Celine Dion CD and a conversation about relationships bil Arabi.

We almost had some car issues, after swerving around tiny country roads after letting the car run for 1.5 hours, but it was a false alarm. They guys checked under the hood and everything was normal. But when we got to Amman there was smoke. And we didn’t have any water and it was 2am and everything was home, so they sent me home in a taxi instead of dropping me back downtown. The taxi had to do a U-ey at a stop light, and as we were about to proceed through the intersection, the two cars ahead of us smashed into each other, but luckily my driver was not involved, and I made it back safe and sound, $2.50 later.

The next morning I almost overslept, but in the end made it to the bus station just 1 our after the expected departure time. Friday morning and most everything was closed, but luckily I got some water on the way through town. There was no direct route to the Dead Sea by public transport, so I expected to take a bus to a bus, or bus to a taxi. I was tired and not paying attention and didn’t mention where I was going – I was the only white girl on the bus. I thought they would tell me when we got to the stop closest to the Dead Sea, that they would realize it was not my intention to go visit an agricultural village in the Jordan Valley. But I was silent until the last stop, and then the drive was all ‘why didn’t you TELL me? Over by those taxis there may be a bus’, but there was no bus. Just a bunch of taxis. So I asked the taxi drivers who were busy smoking cigarettes and eating ice cream how I might get to the Dead Sea, feeling ready to negotiate down from 50 JD to 10, just in case. They laughed and said there was no bus, but that I could come with them. But how much? For free! They were off duty and having a family day at the beach. So they readjusted a little in the back seat – a ten year old girl shoved up against the window, then 18 year old woman holding a baby, then me, then a guy (brother? Husband?) Then the driver and another man in the front. I tried to give them money but they wouldn’t hear of it. As we drove down to the Dead Sea, we saw runners participating in the Dead Sea marathon (the reason I was there!) I tried to get them to cheer in English, but all they did was whistle and bang on the side of the car and scream ‘yallah, yallah!’ I was a little nervous about the police checkpoint since there was an excessive amount of people, but we got waved through. They couldn’t turn into the street with the hotels because all of the runners and police, so they dropped me on the main street and I walked down. I suppose 5-star hotels are not used to walk-ups – everyone comes in a car. They wanted to charge me 25JD to go swimming for the JD, but I sweetly explained that I was just there to visit my friend who had been running, and then I would go back to Amman in the night. They finally let me in after I promised I wouldn’t go swimming. In the lobby I tried calling S a couple of times, but she wasn’t in her room. I started to write a note for he to come find me, when she showed up. What a happy reunion! I swam (without paying) and ate and drank and was merry (and felt quite sick for a while) and had a fabulous time. And then made it back to Amman for a few more days of fun and adventures…

Belated update

Blog thoughts from the last few weeks:

One thing that is nice in this country - when I introduce myself to new people, they always get my name on the first try. Its refreshing. With Arabs I sometimes explain that it is like “Shana Tova” because they expect my name to be Toba. Then I am out-ed.

Its confusing to walk down Ben Yehuda street, in the heart of West Jerusalem, wearing a skirt, looking religious, listening to Amer Diab and walking towards the East Side. Likewise, its confusing walking in East Jerusalem, wearing a skirt and looking all religious, listening to Shlomo Arzi.

At public appearances, why does the US consul have 2 men with ear-pieces in the room to walk him up and down to the stage and scan the room, while the European Community’s representative has none?

Mid-March, and the weather is hot, Hot, HOT. Tonight begins purim – the Jewish answer to Halloween. But people have been getting dressed up for days. Little girls have been dressed as princesses all week. Tonight is an excuse for the parents to start drinking.

Mid-March, and I’m still unemployed. I need to start keeping better track of my spending and curtail my food and recreation budget. And/or learn how to make a budget, and stick to it. I need to spend more time at people’s houses and less going out, but I still need to meet new people. I have a few applications to complete – it would help if I had my computer back. 3-Fucking-Weeks! I went for an interview at the call center. Not as bad as I expected. They pay is less than $10/hr, but I have no choice.

Why won’t the World Bank make a decision already?!

I went to Hebron. Another visit, another baby. I hadn’t been there since New Years. I need to try to make it once a month, or once every-other month. They need the distraction, but I don’t want them spending money on me. Next time I should bring chickens for Maqloubeh.

What a difference a couple of days can make! New ideas. New mind-sets. New people. New opportunities. And how quickly it can call go away again...

West Side

I am spending lots of time in the West, the Jewish section of Jerusalem. I have been defending Israel left and right, attending birthday parties where all the food is kosher and men wear Kippot, and going to the movies. Now that I have my membership and an empty apartment, I keep going to movies. For whatever reason, I keep seeing war movies - guns, explosions, death. It feels strange to watch in a culture that is so dominated by war and violence. I keep waiting for someone to run out crying, due to flashbacks.
Now I am sitting in a kosher Bagel restaurant, in a very American area. I don't know why I came here. I am half in the mood to run into people, half hiding. I am trying to explore different parts of this city, and I don't want to hide from certain neighborhoods anymore. Its not worth it. It is strange to be a place where you can have a "Bagel with a shmear". There's a large group of religious Americans sitting together, enjoying a birthday dinner of salads, pasta, and bagel sandwiches. There is a large boisterous man next to me telling inappropriate jokes, singing to himself, and playing fantasy computer games. There is a young couple with a young child who won't shut up, but for whatever reason they won't leave. At least I have gotten this out of my system, and I don't need to come to this area for a long, long time.
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My birthday was last week. Lots of people came to help me celebrate, at a Tapas bar in West Jerusalem. It was amazing to have so many people from different places together - Jews, Christians, Muslims, and atheists. Israeli, Palestinian, American, Italian, Canadian, British. One friend I've known since I was 5, others from the Arava, some people I have just met in the last couple of weeks, and a friend who I first met randomly at a party in Jordan 3.5 years ago. The a large crew of friends of a friend tromped in, sang Happy Birthday in Hebrew, then left. At first the mingling wasn't so smooth, but by the end some numbers were exchanged. A success.
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Friday was a little nutsy: I went on an alternative archeology tour of the City of David and Silwan. Did some quick food-shopping errands. Met up for cocktails with a friend and got some closure (and my French coffee press!). Then Friday night dinner with old family friends and a combo of random young people. Then out until 3am with a bunch of Israeli Arabs, drinking and smoking, getting stared at for using Arabic in public and feeling funny for still wearing my shabbat clothes at a dance bar.

All in all, an interesting night. More things happened over the weekend, but I have to get out of this neighborhood. I need to learn to live life NOW instead of just reflecting on what was and over thinking what could be. But I still need a job...

Reality Bites

The workshop is over. A month and a half of my life - sleepless nights, sudden trips to Ramallah, countless stops at the printer's to print budgets and schedules and CVs, but now it is done. It ended in an unexciting way - sitting at the border in Eilat. As usual my Syrian stamps caused me problems, and I had to sit and wait at the border for an hour, without explanation. My boss and participants were eager to get home, so they ditched me. Luckily my co-worker stayed and escorted me to Eilat where I got a bus to Tel Aviv, then a sherut to Jerusalem. Once I got the visa it took me over 7 hours to get home. I should've just rented a car and charged the workshop, but because I was in charge of the budget I knew there wasn't much spare money for it. But it' done. And after nearly a week of terse emails to America I have MOST of my salary in my bank account, and now just need a few hundred shekels and a couple JD to reimburse me for the expenses I paid out of pocket. Time to take a break from the Arava for a while...

Being back in Jerusalem is bittersweet. I must have started to idealize it, during the quiet nights on the Kibbutz. I should be grateful for the handful of people I DO have and to know a number of coffee shops where I can hang out with laptop and family friends where I can invite myself over for Shabbat - I need to remember to do that today.

One way to kill time is to see movies. I finally bought a membership to the cinematheque, which means I will be staying in Jerusalem for a few more months. Just because I can I need to see lots of movies. The other night I went to see a movie about outsourcing to India. It wasn't very good, but not so bad that I wanted to walk out. And I am trying to learn not to leave in the middle of cultural activities - I got pretty bad in London. I wanted to take a bus home since I had walked 30 mins there, but the street going towards the German colony was blocked with a police van and no one was walking through. I saw a bus stopped at a weird angle, heard some police yelling through a loud speaker, and then a loud "boom". There was an attack in Dimona a couple days ago, and people have been talking about the escapees from Gaza and how it's just a matter of time until something happens here. But this is the city of peace. And I am invincible. I walked home as quickly as I could and looked at Haaretz/JPost/Debka, but no news of a bombing. Maybe it was just practice or an unidentified left bag. Whatever it was I am back on edge again, and not very excited about it.


So there are good days and there are bad days. I need to work on getting Health Insurance and opening a bank account. And this whole job thing - go Japanese! But in between I should spend some quality time in Hebron, pick up some stuff from the boy's house in Haifa, read a book at the Austrian Hospice, take a road trip, and see my old Arabic tutor. And try to make some new friends, without a job or school to ease the transition. This could be interesting...