This is the End... So Soon?

Seeing as I have slowly tapered off on my diligence with this blog, I imagine this is my last post.
As I start this post, I have two more days in the crazy city of Amman before I begin my trek home.
It's crazy to me that I have spent my last 109 days in the Middle East. Before, as a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed college freshman, I could only dream of accomplishing something like this. My passion for the region was only beginning, and I had no idea where it would lead me.
As my last week here has come closer to its end, I have spent plenty of time reflecting on the things I will miss about being here, and the things I won't so much. I also reflected on my original expectations I had of being here.
To take a quick look back at those
1. learn more Arabic - check. I have to say I'm pretty excited about the amount of Arabic I was able to learn this semester. Before getting to Amman, I never had the confidence to actually speak. Now I can get myself around the city, and hold small conversations with people on the street. I even have a shopkeeper and a shwarma guy that I go to almost every day who know my name, and we chat semi-regularly.
2. Make Jordanian friends - not so much. Who knew being a foreigner in Jordan would make things so... awkward. The language/culture barrier definitely makes it a challenge. I did have a very sweet language partner that I met with each week, but we were more study buddies than local friends. It's interesting how we truly are seen as foreigners here, and speaking a different language, we can't just make friends around campus or in a class the way we would at home. So alas, my friend group happened to wrangle in one local friend, but that's it.
3. Learn to cook Jordanian food - another failure. I have spent much more time simply enjoying the incredible food here rather than actually learning to cook it. By the time I would get home each day, my host mom would already have all the meals prepared and ready for me. So that presented little opportunity. I do, however, have an obsession with hummus that will be difficult to kick once I get home. I can almost guarantee that no one in Denver makes hummus quite the way that Hashem restaurant does in downtown Amman.
4. Ride a camel - success! Looking back on my trip to Wadi Rum and our massive camel caravan through the desert, I'm so grateful for that time.
5. Get close with my Jordanian host family - a half success. I am really lucky and grateful for the family I have had. They have been nothing but accommodating and sweet to me. However, they were much more hands off. They gave me a lot more freedom than a typical daughter would receive in a typical family, so I didn't really grow close with them. But, like I said, they have been a great family to stay with.
6. Expect to not fit in - Oh if only I knew how true that would be. I have written briefly on how much I stand out here but... it's true. I can't walk anywhere without being stared at by nearly every person that walks by. Some stares are just curious because I obviously stick out - I'm pale as paper and red-cheeked as always. Some stares are oddly condescending stares from girls on my university campus. I have been blatantly laughed at by groups of girls walking by. Why? I must be dressed oddly, or something? I couldn't tell you. The last aspect of sticking out is harassment from men. I have avoided talking about this in my blog the entire time, but it unfortunately exists, and it can be pretty draining.

Looking at those goals, I feel that they don't truly encapsulate my experience here. I came in with those goals as my basic expectations. I had always heard 'don't have any expectations' so I tried to keep mine pretty vague. However, I have learned that this trip turned out to be nothing like I expected it to be, yet incredible and life changing all the same. No, I didn't assimilate into Jordanian culture. I can't make homemade falafel, or be like a true 'Jordanian'. But I did spend four months observing and appreciating a culture that was different that my own. I have made the absolute best friends I could have ever have hoped to make. I have ridden a camel through the desert, and floated in the Dead Sea. I have crossed through Israeli security and walked through the streets of the most contentious city in the world. I have witnessed apartheid firsthand. I have waded in the Red Sea, and the Mediterranean Sea. I have stood in one spot and been able to see Egypt, Israel and Saudi Arabia. I have bargained my price for trinkets in the markets. I have mastered the insanity that is Jordanian transportation. I survived the biggest snow storm the Middle East has seen in 114 years. And I have spent 109 days waking up not knowing exactly what might happen.
I built myself a nice little life here in Amman, and as I mentioned before, I have made the best friends I could have ever asked for. I think something great about my program is that it already brought together like-minded people. I mean... This is the Middle East. Only pretty dedicated people would actually commit to this program in the first place. I was lucky enough to wrangle myself a group of five of the most thoughtful, wonderful, and absolute best people in the program and we became each other's family here. So one massive shout out to them... I don't quite now how to go back to 'real life' without them.

I look back on my last four months here and can't do anything but smile. It's been simultaneously the most challenging and the best time of my life. The Middle East has stolen a piece of my heart, and I know I'll be back. Maybe not to Amman, but to the region, absolutely.

So, with all that cheesiness, I have to say I am endlessly grateful for the experience I have had. At the same time, I'm ecstatic to be going home as well. This semester has taught me so much, but as it comes to its end I feel more and more ready to get back to good old 'merica.

For the last post, here's a short recap of some of my time here:

Sarah and I on our 4x4 ride through Wadi Rum

My first friends in Jordan, and the best friends I could have asked for! Our first picture as we prepared to leave the orientation hotel and meet our host families for the first time

Camel ride through the desert

Hiking to the Mujib waterfall, still one of my favorites

In Jerusalem for fall break

on a weekend vacation to the port town of Aqaba, chillin in the Red Sea

WW2 tank underwater

The separation wall of Palestine. One of the most powerful experiences of my life

My Arabic class which I will miss SO much. The short little man in the front was my wonderful teacher, Mohammad. 

My whole 'family' group in Ajloun - ancient castle ruins that overlook Syira

ancient Roman ampitheater - Roman ruins are ALL over Jordan

My host dog Whitey and his birthday cake

The Jordan River - at the sight of the Baptism of Jesus

This guy made it all the way out to see me - at the Dead Sea

Painting an elementary school

Ma Salama Jordan

Eid Mubarak! (Part 2)

The Church of the Holy Sepulcher - built over where Jesus was believed to be crucified

Disclaimer: The following post is solely my own opinion based off of my experiences... I do not think that my experiences can encapsulate these places as a whole, nor am I making sweeping judgments about any of them. Merely documenting my trip in the most honest way possible. With that:

In addition to the intense experiences I had with regards to division, prejudice, and political strife, my trip into Jerusalem and the West Bank was a religious one as well.
We made a point to tour as many of the holy sights as possible, and made it to the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, the desert of Temptation, and the Old City of Jerusalem. Each of these experiences was entirely unique for me, but all powerful.
In my personal life, I consider myself a relatively liberal Christian, have spent about half of my life actively attending a church, and actively working out my own spiritual beliefs and world view. Spirituality is a huge aspect of my life, so these Biblical sights were something I was incredibly excited to see.
Starting at the Church of the Nativity, this is located in Bethlehem. So along with the powerful experiences I talked about in my previous post, we spent an hour or so walking around the place where Jesus was born.
Or, I should say, a massive church built centuries later, OVER the place where they suppose Jesus was born.

The Church of the Nativity from the outside - it's huge

I had a very different experience than I expected at these sights. First thing, you walk up to the door and it is crowded with hordes of tour groups, similar to my own. Each tour guide is trying to compete with the others to make sure they are heard. Then, aside from these groups clumped around, are even more people, all with the cameras around the neck, all taking pictures of everything in sight. The church is ornately decorated in that extreme way that makes you wonder why they needed just SO much stuff.
Seeing this church, with the massive lanterns, chandeliers, the renaissance paintings of a white-skinned Jesus with his face contorted into a painful expression, candles everywhere, made it into a different type of religious experience than I was used to. I will admit my personal bias here, I'm not a fan of ritualism, and certainly not the Euro-centric depiction of Jesus as a white man with blue eyes. That, plus all of the other tourists hoping for a holy experience while I was trying to get my own, dashed my experience a little bit.

This is from the main entrance

Once inside the church, we are able to descend a short staircase where there is a room dedicated to the exact spot where the manger is thought to have been. In this small space, people are lined up to kiss the ground, say a prayer, or have a quiet moment in this small space that almost looks like a fireplace you could crawl into. You stand in this line for a few minutes, as it moves relatively quickly. Once you reach the front of the line, a man in a long priest's robe tells you to hurry. You're able to bend down, crawl about halfway into this small alcove, spend maybe 10 seconds, then are expected to get back up and out of the way. Once I reached the front of the line, it was too crowded, so the man urged two of us to go at once. So this Eastern European woman and I bent down, crawled into this little space, neither of us entirely sure what to do. We paused for a few awkward seconds, then stood back up and got out of the way. As we walked away, the man handed us each a little souvenir card with a printed painting of Jesus and Mary on it.

A small side wall of paintings

I left feeling rather... disenchanted. I wondered if this is where Jesus was born, what would HE have wanted for this place. How would He have wanted this to be preserved, if at all? I wonder if sometimes he laughs, good-heartedly of course, at the rituals we have decided to use to honor him. I realize these opinions and experiences are entirely my own, and are shaped by my previous perceptions of religion, institutions, and faith. I also realize that every single person in that room had a different experience than me. And that is a powerful thought. It was powerful to be in a place where millions of people from all over the world have traveled to, all with different perceptions of it. Some of them were obviously incredibly moved and affected, while others looked positively bored. It was definitely an unforgettable experience.

The small room where the manger was thought to be.
Told you it was crowded. 

Glimpse of the lights strewn throughout the entire building

The lanterns were beautiful, though overwhelming in number. 

My other experiences with biblical sights, such as the church built in the desert where Jesus was said to be tempted for 40 days, were entirely different. The Desert of Temptation is located just on the outskirts of the small Palestinian town of Jericho. First off, Jericho is wonderful. It's got that glorious small town feel, and is actually green! The most trees I had seen in a while. We took a short cable car ride (Jericho's tourist attraction) to the top of a mountain, where a small stone church had been built along the side. The church was closed, but there was just a short path we were able to walk up. At the top we could look out over all of Jericho, and further into the West Bank. There were no candles, no chandeliers, no men ushering us around. It was peaceful, quiet, and absolutely breathtaking. My wonderful friends and I just took some nice quiet time, enjoyed each others company, and took a step back from the rest of the excitement of the week.
My experiences in these two places contrasted extremely with one another. In one I felt cramped, pushed around, out of place, and positively trivial. In the other I felt peace, appreciated the beauty, and was able to feel connected to things happened around me. I have yet to come to a conclusive opinion of these places, but they certainly did make for a moving experience, even if not in the way that I imagined.

The view from the church of the small and lovely town of Jericho

The small church built into the mountain

The Day to Day

The view of the Promise Land from were Moses first saw it - Mt. Nebo

I have spent a lot of time blogging about my weekend wild desert adventures, but that is definitely not the majority of my time spent here. In actuality, I spend most of my days in various cafes around the university, trying to study! Through my day to day events, I have put together a short (sort of) and sweet post of some observations about Amman life.

1. Sidewalks here are not for walking. I've already pointed out the wonderful chaos that is driving in Amman, but being a pedestrian is just as wild. Most sidewalks here have cars parked on them at some point, dip down and stop in the middle of no where, or have large trees planted to the point that you actually cannot walk on the sidewalk. After about a month or so, I stopped even trying, and resigned myself to walking in the street, using the sidewalk only when necessary.

2. Staring is not necessarily a rude thing. As one of only 100 American students in a student body of 40,000 here, you better believe I stick out like a sore thumb. No matter what I am wearing, carrying, doing, I will get stared at. Not just the "Oh she's new" glance. But the "Who are you, I better blatantly watch you walk past until you are no longer in eyesight" stare. That happens..... just about everywhere we go. So when my program told us there is no dress code, but we should try and be culturally conscious, that's why. The stares I get would only be amplified if I dressed inappropriately to customs here. It took some definite getting used to, but I don't mind much usually.

Whitey sitting at the dinner table for his birthday cake

3. CATS. Pets aren't quite as big of a thing here as they are in America. The majority of Muslims here (which is 88% of the population) think that dogs are dirty animals, so wouldn't have them for pets. My family is one of the only ones that I know that has a dog, which I'm ecstatic about. And then cats.... no one likes them. They are like rats to New York. Every single dumpster is home to a family or two of wild cats. I have to resist the urge every day not to try and pet one, steal one, pick one up, and take it home.

4. Backpacks are for losers. On the university campus, the Americans are literally the ONLY students carrying backpacks. The rest of the girls here carry their purses, and maybe a notebook or two. The guys will carry their phones, cigarettes, and a notebook or a book or two. I asked my language partner at the beginning of the semester why no one had them, and she literally said because backpacks are not cool. Only elementary school students carry them here. Despite that, I continue to look like a dweeb every morning carrying my backpack through campus.

This is the view of the Main Gate of my campus. 

5. Americans are slobs. By this I mean, university students really have their acts together here when it comes to fashion. There is certainly no such thing as wearing sweats or a hoodie to class. I wore my Debate Team hoodie and my hair in my staple messy bun one day, and looked homeless in comparison to these girls. All the girls here are just incredibly beautiful. They also match their ENTIRE outfits, which has never been my strong suit. I stick to neutral tones because I assume black/gray/brown/tan all match each other - right? But the girls here match their hijabs to their outfits to their purses to their shoes - all in bright and elaborate colors. The guys also always look well put together. They most often wear loafers, sweaters, button ups, and nice looking jeans. Paying $50 for American Eagle to rip holes in your jeans is definitely not a fashion statement here.

With this, I've included a few miscellaneous pictures of my daily life here:

We ventured to the famous golden arches for some McFlurries for the first time a couple of weeks ago. It was glorious. McDonalds, Burger King, and KFC are almost status symbols here. They are more expensive that other restaurants here, so eating at them actually means you are well off. Pretty different than the $1 menu meals college kids live off of at home. 

The most wonderful girl <3 We went out to celebrate a friend's birthday from the program - and that guy yodeling behind us is a good friend as well. 

This picture is old, but I just have to include a shoutout in this post, to the most wonderful friends I could have hoped to make here. My life in Amman would be nothing without these folks. Cheesy but true

Not remotely related to anything historic, Arab, or academic... but a look into the family I have made for myself

Eid Mubarak! (Part 1)

So without a doubt my favorite week thus far was the week of 3id al-Adha. 3id is the Arabic word for holiday, and 3id Al-Adha is the second largest Muslim holiday of the year. It is to celebrate the story of when Abraham took his son Ishmail (or in the Bible it's his son Isaac) to the top of the mountain, for sacrifice as a testament of his faith in God. Abraham succeeded in this test of faith, and God saved his son Ishmael. Muslims celebrate this day as the Day of Sacrifice. For this holiday, literally absolutely everything is shut down and closed up. We got an entire week off of school, so my friends and I decided to take a trip to Palestine and Israel for 8 whole days. I will likely/possibly split this trip up into two posts because it was VERY conflicting experience in my mind.
Also, warning, politics ahead. I do my best to keep politics and controversy separate from this blog, which can be a challenge considering I am a Poli-Sci student studying the Middle East. But this post is definitely politically charged, and presenting an opinion (Mine) but I think it's incredibly important to share the experience I have had.
That being said:
We set off early Friday morning to catch a bus to the border. For those who don't necessarily know how this border between Jordan and the West Bank works.... It's kind of just a mess. We bussed to the Jordanian side of the border, went through security, got our passports checked and all. We then had to be transported through a section of no-man's-land, technically the West Bank, but not quite into it, to go through Israeli security. Israeli security is no joke. Well, actually it is. What I mean by that, the Israeli border guards are some of the absolute rudest, prejudiced, and arbitrarily discriminatory people I have ever encountered. My friends and I already knew this coming in, however, so we just put on our patience hats and hunkered down for whatever we needed to do. As we get chaotically fed through line after line of passport check, bag check, etc., we are lucky to not be stopped for any further questioning or extensive searches. Myself and my three friends don't have passport stamps from places like Egypt, Lebanon, Syria, etc. which often are reasons Israeli border soldiers hold people up. Or they hold people up for having Arab sounding last names, or just because they feel like it, it seems.
For example, just as I was beginning to write this post, a friend from my program was attempting to go through the border for the long weekend (Her, and a group of 3 others left last night around 6 pm to get through the border crossing). My friend is 1/4 Palestinian, and her father was born in Lebanon. The second she got up to the counter, she was questioned (she has pretty clear Arab features). The Israeli guard asked her where she was from, where her parents were from, etc. She was honest, and they instantly put her aside, told her to sit, they would have to investigate. She, and the others, sat for FIVE HOURS. Being completely ignored by the security. They tried to ask what was going on, and were rudely told to wait until they could question her. At midnight, they came up to her, said they wouldn't have time to finish their investigation, and told them they had to leave. My friend, solely for having Palestinian ancestry, was not allowed through the border, and pushed out. This is a daily occurrence.
Luckily, my friends and I didn't encounter such problems on our trip, and were let through, the whole process taking about 6-8 hours.

The beginning of our trip was spent lounging around on a beach, which was lovely and a fantastic time. After that, however, was the best part of the trip.
We then headed to Jerusalem to truly delve into some cultural experiences. I would much rather spend my typing time discussing that, because my few days spent here were pretty life-changing, or at least they certainly changed my perspective.
Jerusalem is a city that is truly completely divided. There are Arab neighborhoods and Jewish neighborhoods. The Arab streets were much more similar to Amman in the types of shops and restaurants, and the Jewish neighborhoods (most of the city) was much more similar to Europe, particularly an Eastern European city.
For our first day in Jerusalem, we took a tour of Bethlehem. We signed up with a professional tour company, and it was supposed to be an 8 hour long tour of the city, the Separation Wall, and the Church of the Nativity. Bethlehem remains a Palestinian territory, so we had to get ourselves to the Separation Wall first, then attempt to get through security and on the other side of the wall.
After all the time I have spent studying the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, I have to say it was incredibly surreal to actually be on the ground in the area. We read about the Separation Wall, but no one can tell you just how formidable, intimidating, and tragic it is. We hear about the Israeli soldiers and their big guns, but until you have a group of them refusing to help you get through the wall into Palestine, you don't quite understand the condescending and prejudiced approach they take to their jobs.

Difficult to see this well, but I took this standing at the top of a hill from inside of Bethlehem. The buildings you can see just on the other side of this wall are illegal Israeli settlements.

I guess, to try and encapsulate my experience, I'll begin at the wall. First, getting through the wall is intimidating. The Separation Wall has been built by Israel to essentially wall-in the Palestinians, and is guarded 24/7 by loads of Israeli soldiers with massive guns, and they are none-too-helpful. We got lost at first, and asked a group of medics where we needed to go to get into Bethlehem. One told us we could try to fly, and another chimed in that we should grab some spoons and start digging. All the while their macho buddies laughing at us behind them. Then, as you actually enter Palestinian territory, no matter what town or city or area, Israel has posted a sign forbidding Israeli citizens to enter "For Risk of Your Own Life" declaring all areas of Palestine to be simply barbaric, and dangerous.... which is absolutely not true. It shows just how strongly this conflict has perverted Israeli views of Arabs, and vice versa.
Once through the wall, a Palestinian tour guide met us. He said he wished he could have helped us through, but as a Palestinian he is forbidden to leave through that wall and enter Jerusalem. Yet another way that Israelis keep absolute separation between themselves and the Palestinians. Starting at the wall, we took a tour of the street art. Banksy (one of the most famous street artists of all time, who I am positively in love with) even has a couple of pieces in and around the wall. As we walked down and around the wall surrounding the city, I was absolutely overcome by its power.

First, it is somewhere around 50 feet high, concrete slab, and a daily reminder of the situation of the Palestinians. The people here have to live with this wall, and its watch towers of Israeli soldiers constantly looking down on them. Then, just over this wall, you can see settlements. You can see massive developments of apartments, and fully built towns of Israelis that illegally developed on this land, right on the edge of the Separation Wall from Bethlehem. Then the inside of the wall, the street art and graffiti, is the most powerful. The ENTIRE wall is covered with murals, text, anything and everything. There are messages of peace and hope, of international solidarity, of desperation, of anger. I could hardly hold myself together by the time we had walked the hour or so down the wall. I was overwhelmed at the amount of global solidarity for the plight of the Palestinian people. There was graffiti saying "Belgium Stands With Palestine" or "France won't forget about you" or things from South Africa, Uganda, Lebanon, Ireland, and the list goes on. In an even more powerful example that grief and suffering is universal, I saw a memorial to Treyvon Martin spray-painted on the wall. The fact that 3,500 miles away from Florida, Treyvon is being honored, proves that the human heart empathizes with suffering, no matter where we are geographically located. I took well over a hundred pictures, but have included a good amount of my favorites here.

This shows the diversity of the art on the wall... Not all are elaborate murals, or large pieces. Some are just small tags of desperation, anger, or a simply and obvious message

One of Banksy's stencil pieces on the wall in Bethlehem

This Arabic text just says 'Palestine'

This cartoon character is named Handullah. He was created by a Palestinian, and he is meant to represent the oppression and imprisonment of all Palestinians. The creator has painted this character absolutely everywhere, and he has become a national symbol of revolution. The creator also said that Handullah's face will not be revealed until the people of Palestine know freedom. The artist then passed away in 2005.

One of the most elaborate pieces I have seen

The entrance as we walk towards the gate of the refugee camp

After walking along the wall and discussing history, our tour guide took us into one of the Palestinian refugee camps located in Bethlehem. This camp is called Aida Camp, and was established originally by UNRWA. The UN initially built this camp as an actual 'camp', building shanty houses, temporary medical centers. But in the last few decades it has built itself into a full town. It is cramped, the space is limited because they have no where else they can build to, thanks to the wall. But they have established full medical centers, a school system, and other public goods. They also suffer from a severe water shortage. If I complain about my 5 minute showers here in Jordan, they would be thankful for it. Israel siphons off their water, diverting it to new settlements... only giving them about 50% of what they actually need. That means that even by saving as much as possible, families go without water every single week.
It's essentially a whole new Palestinian town, just inhabited by people who dream of one day being able to return to their homes. Walking through this camp, if you ask children where they are from, even though they were all born there in Bethlehem, in that camp, they will tell you the name of their village. They will tell you the name of their grandfather's farm, or where their mother's family lived. No one, not a single Palestinian refugee, thinks of their current situation as their home. As they were shoved from their homes, had their farms destroyed, many burnt to the ground, they still consider themselves as belonging to that home.

Before coming to Jordan I considered myself pretty politically moderate on the Israel-Palestine conflict. I felt that they both had grievances, and I didn't necessarily know of a solution. After spending time in Tel Aviv, then Jerusalem, then Bethlehem and Jericho... I will never be the same. I am devastated by what has become of Palestinian territories. I have seen for myself the propaganda dispersed by the Israeli government to further hate of the Palestinians. I have experienced the genuine ignorance of many Israeli citizens. As I would converse with Israelis in Jerusalem, they'd ask what I was doing there. Many assumed I was there for birthright (where the Israeli government will pay any Jewish teenager, anywhere in the world, to take a trip to the 'homeland'), to which they looked confused when I couldn't help but laugh and say 'Hell no'. As my friends and I explained that we were studying Arabic in Jordan, here for holiday, the response was, absolutely every time, confusion. Every Israeli person we talked with and told this (at least 10 individuals in a couple of days) asked us "Why?" "Is it safe there" "What are they like?" 'They' referring, obviously, to Arab people in general. I was absolutely and completely stunned by getting this reaction time after time. We would then all reply with extreme kindness. "Of course it's safe, Amman is great, the city is great, etc." To which, again, they looked confused. The most stunning part, in my opinion, is the fact that the West Bank is integrated into Israel, thanks to the settlements, yet the average Israeli does not know the first thing about a Palestinian. The separation is SO severe, so concrete (literally, a 50 foot concrete wall) that these two populations have virtually no interaction on the day-to-day.   
My friends and I got home from our day trip in Bethlehem, and were all just.... emotionally drained. We simply couldn't quite comprehend all that we had seen and experienced through the day. Between our problems getting through the wall, seeing the protest graffiti, hearing story after story from our tour guide, then visiting the refugee camp, it was incredibly overwhelming.
My experiences in Israel and Palestine, both with the border patrol, encountering Israeli soldiers, conversations with locals in Jerusalem, and our experience in Bethlehem, my perspective has been forever and permanently changed. I am appalled by the state of things, and the fact that not a single American news source gives it any attention whatsoever.
To anyone further interested in the issue, first I suggest reading credible news sources such as Al-Jazeera (NOT Al-Jazeera America). But secondly, there is an absolutely incredible, and heart-wrenching documentary called 5 Broken Cameras that I believe every single American should watch. It is a Palestinian man simply documenting his life and his encounters. I have included the link to the FULL film on Youtube here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3K-mGWy9iUg

The perspective this man is able to capture on camera (or 5, he continuously replaces his cameras after Israeli soldiers destroy them) is incredible. In fact, the man from this documentary was shot just last week during an Israeli raid, for the SECOND time. I would highly suggest watching it.

So, I know this certainly isn't the happiest post, but it is something I am truly incredibly passionate about.
I am trying to end this post without it being a novel... So I will try to get caught up to speed with other events very soon!
If anyone has any questions/comments/problems with or about this post, I'm happy to discuss further.