Sometimes you just have to take off your sunglasses and look around. Everything looks a little better when it isn’t grey. And I think my mood lately is helping. I felt surprisingly relieved to be back in my own house and working with my own girls after the camp in aqaba. And I think it was the first time I have really used the word home instead of saying something like back at site. I felt just a little more at ease in my own skin. And I even spent a few days visiting people. I know that doesn’t sound like that big a deal, but for me to go sit with people I don’t know all that well and don’t really share a language with for hours at a time is a pretty big deal. In fact, socialization has been my biggest road block here.
Well folks, the hostage from my village has been released, safe and sound. I think I told y’all about the man. He has two wives here and one wife in iraq and was kidnapped while he was there. They were demanding that Jordan release the women who was arrested after the amman bombings. Anyway, I don’t know what happened that he was released, but he was. I was out for a walk Tuesday night and I heard a bunch of gunfire. I think I may have already explained that violent crime in Jordan is actually very low. So gunshots usually mean that someone is celebrating something. So I knew that something good was happening. And by the time I got to my house there were fireworks all over town. And my ducan (corner store) man told me that Mahmoud Seidat (the hostage) was being returned. So now all the houses in the village have party flags up, as well as white flags. I am not really sure exactly what the white flags mean, but people have been driving around waving them. My taxi driver suggested that I go to the return party. But, I never met the man or his family and I thought that the random American stopping by to say congratulations might not really be appreciated. He is coming back to the village today.
Here is a funny story. Or at least I found it amusing. I was sitting in my center flipping through an Arabic magazine and I got to a page that had a big blow up of two giant roosters. Apparently there is a farm in Baghdad that has this cockfighting show. And it isn’t the kind with razor blades and stuff like that. Anyway, these two chickens – one is named saddam and one is named bush, and they are the stars of the show. Anything beyond that I didn’t really understand.
For valentine’s day I threw a party in my center. The girls seem to like valentine’s day. So I bought them chocolates and we made some tang (really popular here). We played music and drums and danced and sang and just kind of went crazy. It was fun. But then my center closed for a while. Snow days. We had hail and fog and mudslides. And the wind sounded like my whole village was going to be washed off the mountain. I suppose we were just having a late winter. But now the weather has turned to spring. And my center is getting ready to start taking trips and having activities.
A week or so ago I was drinking tea with my counterpart and she told me that she thought my hair didn’t look good because it was 2 different colors. I agreed and told her that I was going to get my hair cut soon. So the next morning the power was out in the village and we couldn’t open the center. She told me to come with her. And down the road we went. We ended up in a salon and a girl from Syria cut my hair. All of it. So I have a boy cut now. Most people hate it because even though most women cover they like really long hair here. I think they mostly think I am crazy.
A few weeks ago my counterpart and I closed the center early and had a little adventure. She wanted to buy some new clothes for her husband and surprise him. So she called him and said she was helping me go to the post office, just in case we ran into him. So we got in a service (like a cab) that usually goes to Saudi. But the driver was friends with my counterpart and so he gave us a lift so we didn’t have to wait for the bus. Our first stop was the jewelry store. My counterpart was selling a ring to pay for the clothes. Now you have to understand that this town is one of the more conservative in Jordan. They think nothing of protesting their own government. They had protests when the government raised the price of bread. Anyway, my counterpart was talking to the guy at the counter (apparently they knew each other) and she introduced me to him and told him I was American. There was another lady in the store and when she heard that I was an American I got the look of death from her. I mean it was a really icy stare. When I stay in my own village it is easy to forget that some people in jordan kinda hate me for my americanness. But when I go out of town where people don’t know me, sometimes it really gets obvious. Anyway, we sold the jewelry and bought some clothes for her husband. It was fun. And then we went back to the bus station. But there weren’t any busses for a while. So we crammed in a car with some other folks from taibeh. And we rocketed back home. And everyone was kind of cringing and holding on for dear life. Usually Jordanians drive so crazy and noone even blinks, so this was a really special ride. And that was my little trip to ma’an.
And in the latest cartoon news, the hotel in town took down the Danish flag. It has five or six world flags up, but now the Danish one is no more. I am not sure what fate it met. Probably just got put in a closet somewhere.
Ok kids. That’s all for now. Lets hope that the next week or so brings me some inspiration for a really great post next time. I updated the photos in my ofoto account and I will put a link under the links portion of this blog. Hope all is well at home.