Friday, September 30, 2011
More on Mafraq
So, Al-albayt continues to blur fantasy and fiction for me. Overall, I think the best I can do is say that I’m sure I will grow to love it, or at least greatly appreciate the experiences it offers me. Monday was an interesting day, I finally met the last American I had heard about who works at the university, the infamous Dr. Ross. Dr. Ross is teaching at Al-albayt through a teacher exchange program funded by USAID and organized through Georgetown. He is an older man who has been teaching English abroad for several years in more than several different countries and regions. Our meeting was an interesting one- it came about like so:
I was sitting in the office I share with Spanish teacher Aisha, (and by share I mean I stay out of the office until 2 when she leaves and then sometimes I go sit at the one desk in the room pretending students might be able to find me or an “office hour”) and I got a call from Dr. Amr. (this is the head of the language center, remember, who doesn’t speak English) he asks me, in Arabic, if I am free Mondays and Wednesdays at 2. Technically, I am, I have just taught for 6 straight hours. Can I teach a class then? Well, what class? Is there a curriculum? Um… ok Dr. Amr will come to my office in five minutes. At this point Jomanna stopped in to check in on me and invite me to her house for dinner on Wednesday. While she was there, Dr. Amr comes and uses her as a translator to ask me if I will teach English pronunciation class, only about 80 students. Dr. Ross had taught the class before, so I asked Dr. Amr through Jomanna if I could meet Dr. Ross and ask him about it. Dr. Amr leaves suddenly and comes back with Dr. Ross. “Oh so you re the one they want to pawn this class off on. They asked me, but I’m sick of their bull *** so I told them no!” huh. So I asked about the class, about his experience teaching here, and what I should do. He told me much of what I already knew, but it was interesting to hear it so bluntly stated. Basically, English is often pass fail and required, so most of the students aren’t there to actually learn anything. The tests are poor and there aren’t really prerequisites so students are rarely placed in an appropriate level and classes are huge. Cheating is rampant, as are cell phones in class. The text books are illegally copied English books from the 80’s that are in no way interesting to teach or learn from. He said the only reason they have most of these classes is because they are still randomly in the registrar and meet certain ancient requirements so students sign up for them. The reason they don’t have a professor is because no one wants to teach them so they try to pass them o to anyone they can. Dr. Ross suggests that I politely decline this offer. I tell Jomanna to please tell Dr. Amr that I don’t think my schedule will allow me to teach this class. Dr. Amr makes a phone call. We are soon joined in my office by Dr. Omar, the head of the English department. Dr. Omar comes in and heatedly begins talking to Dr. Ross. Shouting ensues “No I will not teach your class because it’s shit! It’s shit!”
“It is not shit! Students have signed up or it they want to be in the class but it needs a teacher!” “No one wants to teach it because everyone knows it is shit! The students couldn’t care less about it. I will not be the dog of the English department” “This is not a matter of department! This is a university, you work for the university! These are good students they are not shit!” “ I have worked and worked and worked for you and I’m done rolling over for you…”
You get the idea of this very animated dialogue. Meanwhile, while these men are literally shouting across my/Aisha’s desk, Jomanna grins at me and “regretfully” tells me she has to go. So I am alone now and after Dr. Ross slams his fist on the table for the final time, Dr. Amr steps in. “Ok ok hallass (enough) Dr. Ross, you only teach in language center. Jennifer, you only language center” Dr. Omar and Dr. Ross each take a deep breath, and we are all invited to Dr. Amr’s office. We change locations, and Dr. Ross and I sit and chat a little while Dr’s Amr and Omar call every other English teacher that works for the university trying to find someone who will teach this class. Finally, they find someone, and Dr. Omar praises God. He hugs Dr. Amr. Pats Dr. Ross on the back and wants to make sure there are no hard feelings and leaves. Still in bewilderment at my witness to all of this, I politely tell Dr. Amr that the faculty bus is leaving shortly and I need to leave to go back to Amman. So I officially teach three sections of English 101 and one of English 99. Thanks to Dr. Amr, I now have an actual classroom, as opposed to a weird computer lab, and a blackboard and everything. I still don’t know how to deal with 50 students each class or an hour and fifteen minutes, but as Scot, a Peace Corps Volunteer told me, it’s the little things that will count. You wont be able to change their system, but you can put small differences in it. So, step one, teach in actual classroom, not from glass booth with head set.
Cairo Amman Bank
On getting a Jordanian Bank Account:
Necessary documents and information: Passport, copy of apartment lease agreement, letter from agency documenting responsibility for getting you a residency permit. Two contacts/character witnesses, their occupation and official titles, addresses, phone numbers, and company names. Your name and mother’s name (Sara, works just fine) and marital status (don’t say “married” unless your husband is there with you, don’t say “single” if you’re dealing with a male banker)
Time commitment: one and a half to two weeks. Minimum four bank visits. Minimum one hour per visit. Bank hours are Sun- Thurs 8:30 am – 3 pm. Do not show up after 2 if you want to get anything done.
Visit 1 Objective: Understand culture of bank as workplace. Fill out paperwork.
Walk into bank and take a number. Sit and watch bank tellers. Notice how slowly, customers are called up to the teller counter, but no numbers are being called for account services. Notice how the screens that are supposed to display numbers over business desks, are actually mostly turned off and how must staff at a desk are either chatting or doing their nails. Ask banker politely if you are doing to the right thing. Do you have a number? Yes. Wait a little longer, then finally, banker switches on number sign to call a few numbers before you, then finally, your number. Double check to make sure you have all the correct paperwork! Visit 1 is actually three visits without all of the proper documentation noted above. At the end of visit one, you will have- nothing. Actually, if you have a good banker you will have some syrupy grape juice. Eventually, you will need to make a 100 JD minimum deposit but your account must be approved first which will take maybe two to three days. If your banker is nice, she will call you when your account is ready. She will also want to learn English, friend you on facebook, and invite you out for coffee. No need to give her your number, she has it from your account application.
Visit 2 Objective: Obtain bank account number and high scores for all the games on your cell phone.
Walk into bank and take a number. Sit and watch bank tellers. Notice how still, there are no numbers being called. Say hi to staff you saw before. See your banker. She will be with you in just a minute. Banker no longer bothers to turn on number. She invites you to her desk. After shuffling through a lot of paperwork, she produces several pages that need your signature. She then writes a long number on a piece of scratch paper. Ta dah! Your Bank account number. You want to make a deposit? As it turns out, 100 JD is not necessary, any amount (or none) is fine. Your ATM card? No you will have to come back tomorrow.
Visit 3 Objective: Obtain ATM card
Walk into bank and debate taking number. Just in case, take meaningless piece of paper that has a number. See your banker! She is so sorry she didn’t call you over the weekend, she was very busy. After waiting the usual twenty minutes, she invites you to her desk and digs out a folder with your ATM card. You will not be able to use the card, however, until you get your pin number which is not ready yet. Do not ponder what good an ATM card is without a pin number. The bank is full of things that will never make sense to you. Best not to mull over them.
Visit 4 Objective: Obtain PIN number
You have learned by now that the number system does not matter in any way shape or form but it is ingrained into the cultural mechanisms that control your muscle movements. You try not to, you walk toward the waiting area, away from the machine that gives you meaningless pieces of paper, but your fingers twitch and just in case.. you go back to get a number. Your banker sees you and welcomes you back. A different banker handles the pin numbers though, so you are instructed to wait at his desk. Banker will come with long pieces of paper. He hand copies each account number onto corresponding sheet with pin numbers one by one. You notice he writes acct. no 182 twice and wonder if you will actually get the pin number for your account. You are relieved when he also catches this mistake. Finally, you are given a small envelope that is promised to have a four digit pin code inside. It will not work, however, until after four ‘o clock.
I went back to the bank today to get a manager’s check for my rent. It is almost like another home now, all my old friends. I didn’t even take a number this time and I got in and out with what I needed in a record hour and ten minutes!! Now, there were certainly times when this banking business was frustrating. Thinking about how easy it would be to open a bank account in the states, how I would probably get free checks and I-Tunes credit or something, how my sister got an umbrella from her German bank. But that is just not how things work here, and while sometimes this is tough for an outsider, it can also be refreshing. Nope, I can’t do anything else today, I have to go to the bank. I did get really good at snake on my cell phone, read some good books, and most importantly, gained insight into a place where work isn’t the main goal of life. Where lunch breaks are longer and the working day is shorter, because things like family, friends, and yes, traffic, take up more time. It took me weeks to get a bank account, but just a few minutes with Sanna, my banker to get a new Jordanian friend. So, ma’aleysh. It’s ok.
Necessary documents and information: Passport, copy of apartment lease agreement, letter from agency documenting responsibility for getting you a residency permit. Two contacts/character witnesses, their occupation and official titles, addresses, phone numbers, and company names. Your name and mother’s name (Sara, works just fine) and marital status (don’t say “married” unless your husband is there with you, don’t say “single” if you’re dealing with a male banker)
Time commitment: one and a half to two weeks. Minimum four bank visits. Minimum one hour per visit. Bank hours are Sun- Thurs 8:30 am – 3 pm. Do not show up after 2 if you want to get anything done.
Visit 1 Objective: Understand culture of bank as workplace. Fill out paperwork.
Walk into bank and take a number. Sit and watch bank tellers. Notice how slowly, customers are called up to the teller counter, but no numbers are being called for account services. Notice how the screens that are supposed to display numbers over business desks, are actually mostly turned off and how must staff at a desk are either chatting or doing their nails. Ask banker politely if you are doing to the right thing. Do you have a number? Yes. Wait a little longer, then finally, banker switches on number sign to call a few numbers before you, then finally, your number. Double check to make sure you have all the correct paperwork! Visit 1 is actually three visits without all of the proper documentation noted above. At the end of visit one, you will have- nothing. Actually, if you have a good banker you will have some syrupy grape juice. Eventually, you will need to make a 100 JD minimum deposit but your account must be approved first which will take maybe two to three days. If your banker is nice, she will call you when your account is ready. She will also want to learn English, friend you on facebook, and invite you out for coffee. No need to give her your number, she has it from your account application.
Visit 2 Objective: Obtain bank account number and high scores for all the games on your cell phone.
Walk into bank and take a number. Sit and watch bank tellers. Notice how still, there are no numbers being called. Say hi to staff you saw before. See your banker. She will be with you in just a minute. Banker no longer bothers to turn on number. She invites you to her desk. After shuffling through a lot of paperwork, she produces several pages that need your signature. She then writes a long number on a piece of scratch paper. Ta dah! Your Bank account number. You want to make a deposit? As it turns out, 100 JD is not necessary, any amount (or none) is fine. Your ATM card? No you will have to come back tomorrow.
Visit 3 Objective: Obtain ATM card
Walk into bank and debate taking number. Just in case, take meaningless piece of paper that has a number. See your banker! She is so sorry she didn’t call you over the weekend, she was very busy. After waiting the usual twenty minutes, she invites you to her desk and digs out a folder with your ATM card. You will not be able to use the card, however, until you get your pin number which is not ready yet. Do not ponder what good an ATM card is without a pin number. The bank is full of things that will never make sense to you. Best not to mull over them.
Visit 4 Objective: Obtain PIN number
You have learned by now that the number system does not matter in any way shape or form but it is ingrained into the cultural mechanisms that control your muscle movements. You try not to, you walk toward the waiting area, away from the machine that gives you meaningless pieces of paper, but your fingers twitch and just in case.. you go back to get a number. Your banker sees you and welcomes you back. A different banker handles the pin numbers though, so you are instructed to wait at his desk. Banker will come with long pieces of paper. He hand copies each account number onto corresponding sheet with pin numbers one by one. You notice he writes acct. no 182 twice and wonder if you will actually get the pin number for your account. You are relieved when he also catches this mistake. Finally, you are given a small envelope that is promised to have a four digit pin code inside. It will not work, however, until after four ‘o clock.
I went back to the bank today to get a manager’s check for my rent. It is almost like another home now, all my old friends. I didn’t even take a number this time and I got in and out with what I needed in a record hour and ten minutes!! Now, there were certainly times when this banking business was frustrating. Thinking about how easy it would be to open a bank account in the states, how I would probably get free checks and I-Tunes credit or something, how my sister got an umbrella from her German bank. But that is just not how things work here, and while sometimes this is tough for an outsider, it can also be refreshing. Nope, I can’t do anything else today, I have to go to the bank. I did get really good at snake on my cell phone, read some good books, and most importantly, gained insight into a place where work isn’t the main goal of life. Where lunch breaks are longer and the working day is shorter, because things like family, friends, and yes, traffic, take up more time. It took me weeks to get a bank account, but just a few minutes with Sanna, my banker to get a new Jordanian friend. So, ma’aleysh. It’s ok.
Monday, September 26, 2011
I got a very nice call from Jomanna this evening, who is thus far the closest woman to sainthood I have met. Jomanna is another professor at Al-albayt, she is 33 years old, and she got her PhD at age 26. She comes from a pretty conservative family, she says, her dad doesn’t let her do much but he has allowed her to get a good education so she spends her time studying. She always wants to learn as much as possible in a short amount of time and is dedicated to serving others- I was actually surprised as to how often and appropriately the verb “to serve” came out of her good, but still limited English vocabulary. For example, she said there were two deaf girls in town who never got out and as such were mentally and socially handicapped. So, Jomanna learned Arabic sign language and taught it to them and took them out into town, because this is how she saw she could serve them. I’d say. She has adopted me as her sister at the university, which is a service to me probably more than she or anyone could ever comprehend.
Anyway, Jomanna called me to check in, I had talked to a Peace Corps Volunteer, Scot, about some concerns I had about teaching and he had passed them along to her, so she was calling to make sure “I could be happy.” The thing I have to understand, she explained to me, was that my students were the ones who, when they took the placement exam, failed. I have to understand, that they come from schools in the country, where no one speaks English. I have to understand that one of the levels I teach is pass/fail so the students probably wont try that hard, because a 90% is the same as 50%. I feel like I actually understand most of these things quite well. It became pretty clear on the first day of class when my interaction with students went something like this:
Me: Hello, my name is Ms. Jennifer and I am from America. I will be you teacher this semester. Our rules for the class will be, please, no cell phones. Speak only in English, so we can practice, and if you ever don’t understand or want me to repeat something, raise your hand.
Class: blank stares…
Me: do you know, “raise your hand” (mimes raising hand)
Class: blank stares…
Me: right now, if any of you speak any English, raise your hand.
Class: blank stares…
Me: Right now, if you understand what I say, raise your hand.
One student raises his hand.
So I actually learned very quickly just how beginner, Beginning English is. I learned when I asked my 99 level class (like 101 in the states) to write the English alphabet. A lot of students left out the letter “u.” I also asked them to spell out the numbers, I gave them the example “one” and most of them wrote “1, 2, 3, 4…” and then I asked them to write anything they knew how to say about themselves in English. Most had a sentence or two, a few only wrote their names what I don’t understand, however, is how I am qualified at all to teach these students. With a bachelor’s degree in anything but education, I fail to see how my status as “native speaker” qualifies me to get up in front of 100 university students twice a week for an hour and a half and get them to a working proficiency of English. I am all about rising to a challenge; I came to Jordan hoping that it would push my comfort levels, wanting to learn things about myself, strengths, weaknesses, and all the mushy parts in between. But usually, when I come across mental, emotional, and physical stresses, I feel I at least have tools I can draw on to deal, overcome, and grow. Other than constantly googling “TEFL Lesson plans” I am at a loss for this one.
After my first day of teaching, I went to hide away in another Peace Corps Volunteer teacher’s room, and played chess with one of his students. Afterward, Ahmed asked if he could talk to me and give me some advice. Of course! I answered, I am starving for help and advice. “You must have every lesson prepared perfectly,” he solemnly told me. “You must not let them see you make mistake and you must tell them everything in perfect Arabic. They do not understand otherwise and, I am so sorry to tell you this, I know it seems very difficult, but if you do not speak and tell them in Arabic, they will think you are very dumb.”
Thanks, Ahmed, for that lovely advice.
So I understand the level of the students. What I need to understand, it seems, is how to transform myself from pumpkin into English coach, how to make my already limited knowledge of grammatical terminology bilingual, and how to stand up in front of way to large language classes and get students to speak and interact in a language they don’t know- something that goes against the culture of this country’s education and social system. I think I might just have to be dumb.
Anyway, Jomanna called me to check in, I had talked to a Peace Corps Volunteer, Scot, about some concerns I had about teaching and he had passed them along to her, so she was calling to make sure “I could be happy.” The thing I have to understand, she explained to me, was that my students were the ones who, when they took the placement exam, failed. I have to understand, that they come from schools in the country, where no one speaks English. I have to understand that one of the levels I teach is pass/fail so the students probably wont try that hard, because a 90% is the same as 50%. I feel like I actually understand most of these things quite well. It became pretty clear on the first day of class when my interaction with students went something like this:
Me: Hello, my name is Ms. Jennifer and I am from America. I will be you teacher this semester. Our rules for the class will be, please, no cell phones. Speak only in English, so we can practice, and if you ever don’t understand or want me to repeat something, raise your hand.
Class: blank stares…
Me: do you know, “raise your hand” (mimes raising hand)
Class: blank stares…
Me: right now, if any of you speak any English, raise your hand.
Class: blank stares…
Me: Right now, if you understand what I say, raise your hand.
One student raises his hand.
So I actually learned very quickly just how beginner, Beginning English is. I learned when I asked my 99 level class (like 101 in the states) to write the English alphabet. A lot of students left out the letter “u.” I also asked them to spell out the numbers, I gave them the example “one” and most of them wrote “1, 2, 3, 4…” and then I asked them to write anything they knew how to say about themselves in English. Most had a sentence or two, a few only wrote their names what I don’t understand, however, is how I am qualified at all to teach these students. With a bachelor’s degree in anything but education, I fail to see how my status as “native speaker” qualifies me to get up in front of 100 university students twice a week for an hour and a half and get them to a working proficiency of English. I am all about rising to a challenge; I came to Jordan hoping that it would push my comfort levels, wanting to learn things about myself, strengths, weaknesses, and all the mushy parts in between. But usually, when I come across mental, emotional, and physical stresses, I feel I at least have tools I can draw on to deal, overcome, and grow. Other than constantly googling “TEFL Lesson plans” I am at a loss for this one.
After my first day of teaching, I went to hide away in another Peace Corps Volunteer teacher’s room, and played chess with one of his students. Afterward, Ahmed asked if he could talk to me and give me some advice. Of course! I answered, I am starving for help and advice. “You must have every lesson prepared perfectly,” he solemnly told me. “You must not let them see you make mistake and you must tell them everything in perfect Arabic. They do not understand otherwise and, I am so sorry to tell you this, I know it seems very difficult, but if you do not speak and tell them in Arabic, they will think you are very dumb.”
Thanks, Ahmed, for that lovely advice.
So I understand the level of the students. What I need to understand, it seems, is how to transform myself from pumpkin into English coach, how to make my already limited knowledge of grammatical terminology bilingual, and how to stand up in front of way to large language classes and get students to speak and interact in a language they don’t know- something that goes against the culture of this country’s education and social system. I think I might just have to be dumb.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Lost in Translation
A week ago I first met two professors from Al-albayt University in Mafraq, Jordan. One Dr. Yousseff, who was a professor of English, and one Dr. Amr, who is the head of the Language department and speaks no English. This was my first contact with anyone from the university and our conversation went something as follows:
(all of Drs’ text translated from Arabic to English and back)
Me: It’s so nice to meet you! I’m so happy to have this opportunity!
Drs’: We are so happy also to have you. You want live in Mafraq or Amman?
Me: umm well, I already live here in Amman. But that actually brings up a good point.. I was told there would be transportation from Amman to Mafraq, is there a driver?
Drs’: no not driver… there is bus. You can take bus no problem. And how many days you want teach?
Me: umm well, I’m not really sure, I mean, how far is it? I would like to be a part of the community at the university
Drs: ok well you will teach 12 hours a week you can teach 4 hours for three days or 6 hours for 2 days each.
Me: well, I really want to be involved, so 3 days?
Drs: ok you find the bus nearby where you live at city circle and we will have another teacher call you if you have problem. You come Tuesday first day and we will give you tour of school. You teach English level 99 and 101 I think is better. Beginning level. Classes are maybe.. 50 students and you teach in a computer lab. There is set curriculum.
Me: um, well, I hope that works because I’m really supposed to be more of an assistant… So I’m not really trained to teach by myself but if there is a set curriculum, maybe, we could see how it works..
Drs: very good. Ok school starts Sunday but you come first time on Tuesday. We give you tour of university, you can see the class.
Me: ok! So nice to meet you, I am very much looking forward to working with you.
You can take bus no problem: So things changed and I decided I would work 2 days a week because of the long commute. There was some confusion as to which day I would first come then, so on Monday, I went out to find this bus, just in case it was the day that I was supposed to go.. but no luck. No call from the professor who was supposed to help me find the bus, and the circle where I was supposed to find the bus was very busy, many many busses. Impossible to find the one bus for me. So, only slightly disheartened at 6:45 a.m., I changed out of my very modest and professional clothing and went back to bed. Day two, I was equipped with a new phone number of the teacher I was supposed to call if I had any trouble finding the right bus. An e-mail exchange told me Tuesday would be a fine day to come for the first time, so again, I went down to this major intersection, and, upon seeing once again, a million busses, called Dr. Mazen. His phone was off. I called Dr. Youssef, who is supposedly my sponsor teacher. His phone was also off. I started asking people for busses to Mafraq. Ooo noo, you get on bus to Zarqa, then from there get on bus to Mafraq. Here get on this bus… I will tell the driver for you. uhhhh. And the adventure begins. Luckily, I ended up sitting by a student at Al-albayt University. Hem dul allah! Eventually, we stopped at this giant bus stop center in the town of Zarqa (these are the towns that you think of when you think of Jordan… not metropolitan Amman, but in the middle of the desert, nothing much there) My seatmate gets off the bus, and the bus driver points to a large mob of people and several dozen different busses. “To mafraq” umm ok great thanks. My seatmates shoves me up onto one of the charter buses and I meander to the back. I hope she comes to sit by me again but instead I am joined by another younger student at the university. Shaema, is very nice, and when we get off at the military complex that has now become Al-albayt university, she and her friends are kind enough to help me find the language center. “you are welcome to our country!” is most of the English that they know.. and they mostly giggle in Arabic. They do ask “Are you Christian or Muslim?” Christian gets an appropriate mumble of a response for being rather an unsatisfactory answer. Shaema finally drops me off, not with Dr. Yousseff, who I had imagined would be waiting for me with open arms, so glad to finally see me again and that I had found my way, even though his mysterious “faculty bus” did not seem to exist. Instead, I find myself sipping Turkish coffee in a room of females. Three English teachers, and one Arabic teacher who speaks no English. The group says hello, and then continues to gossip and laugh in Arabic. I sit, quietly, wondering if my presence is as awkward for them as it is for me. Occasionally, one of them lets me in on the topics- “We are talking about when we were young, we are talking about her bag, we are talking about a toy car for her son” and it is also explained to me, “We would either have to translate for her (motions to Arabic teacher) or for you, so we keep talking in Arabic” Naturally. I ask for advice, “Be strict,” they tell me. “The students are not very nice and they do not study” great “They have to take English but they do not speak it. but you just follow the book and you will find it very easy. Just do not joke with them do not smile. You must be very strict.” Ok. no problem. I am only a year if that older than the students and look at least five years younger than most but I will just put my foot down. I have problems disciplining small children, let alone college students, but why not? I can be tough, right? Finally Dr. Heeyam invites me to her office and asks if I have questions. Later, she says we will see the lab where I will teach and go to my office. Do I have questions. What do I not have questions about? "well," I said, "I guess one thing would be, where can I find the right bus?"
(all of Drs’ text translated from Arabic to English and back)
Me: It’s so nice to meet you! I’m so happy to have this opportunity!
Drs’: We are so happy also to have you. You want live in Mafraq or Amman?
Me: umm well, I already live here in Amman. But that actually brings up a good point.. I was told there would be transportation from Amman to Mafraq, is there a driver?
Drs’: no not driver… there is bus. You can take bus no problem. And how many days you want teach?
Me: umm well, I’m not really sure, I mean, how far is it? I would like to be a part of the community at the university
Drs: ok well you will teach 12 hours a week you can teach 4 hours for three days or 6 hours for 2 days each.
Me: well, I really want to be involved, so 3 days?
Drs: ok you find the bus nearby where you live at city circle and we will have another teacher call you if you have problem. You come Tuesday first day and we will give you tour of school. You teach English level 99 and 101 I think is better. Beginning level. Classes are maybe.. 50 students and you teach in a computer lab. There is set curriculum.
Me: um, well, I hope that works because I’m really supposed to be more of an assistant… So I’m not really trained to teach by myself but if there is a set curriculum, maybe, we could see how it works..
Drs: very good. Ok school starts Sunday but you come first time on Tuesday. We give you tour of university, you can see the class.
Me: ok! So nice to meet you, I am very much looking forward to working with you.
You can take bus no problem: So things changed and I decided I would work 2 days a week because of the long commute. There was some confusion as to which day I would first come then, so on Monday, I went out to find this bus, just in case it was the day that I was supposed to go.. but no luck. No call from the professor who was supposed to help me find the bus, and the circle where I was supposed to find the bus was very busy, many many busses. Impossible to find the one bus for me. So, only slightly disheartened at 6:45 a.m., I changed out of my very modest and professional clothing and went back to bed. Day two, I was equipped with a new phone number of the teacher I was supposed to call if I had any trouble finding the right bus. An e-mail exchange told me Tuesday would be a fine day to come for the first time, so again, I went down to this major intersection, and, upon seeing once again, a million busses, called Dr. Mazen. His phone was off. I called Dr. Youssef, who is supposedly my sponsor teacher. His phone was also off. I started asking people for busses to Mafraq. Ooo noo, you get on bus to Zarqa, then from there get on bus to Mafraq. Here get on this bus… I will tell the driver for you. uhhhh. And the adventure begins. Luckily, I ended up sitting by a student at Al-albayt University. Hem dul allah! Eventually, we stopped at this giant bus stop center in the town of Zarqa (these are the towns that you think of when you think of Jordan… not metropolitan Amman, but in the middle of the desert, nothing much there) My seatmate gets off the bus, and the bus driver points to a large mob of people and several dozen different busses. “To mafraq” umm ok great thanks. My seatmates shoves me up onto one of the charter buses and I meander to the back. I hope she comes to sit by me again but instead I am joined by another younger student at the university. Shaema, is very nice, and when we get off at the military complex that has now become Al-albayt university, she and her friends are kind enough to help me find the language center. “you are welcome to our country!” is most of the English that they know.. and they mostly giggle in Arabic. They do ask “Are you Christian or Muslim?” Christian gets an appropriate mumble of a response for being rather an unsatisfactory answer. Shaema finally drops me off, not with Dr. Yousseff, who I had imagined would be waiting for me with open arms, so glad to finally see me again and that I had found my way, even though his mysterious “faculty bus” did not seem to exist. Instead, I find myself sipping Turkish coffee in a room of females. Three English teachers, and one Arabic teacher who speaks no English. The group says hello, and then continues to gossip and laugh in Arabic. I sit, quietly, wondering if my presence is as awkward for them as it is for me. Occasionally, one of them lets me in on the topics- “We are talking about when we were young, we are talking about her bag, we are talking about a toy car for her son” and it is also explained to me, “We would either have to translate for her (motions to Arabic teacher) or for you, so we keep talking in Arabic” Naturally. I ask for advice, “Be strict,” they tell me. “The students are not very nice and they do not study” great “They have to take English but they do not speak it. but you just follow the book and you will find it very easy. Just do not joke with them do not smile. You must be very strict.” Ok. no problem. I am only a year if that older than the students and look at least five years younger than most but I will just put my foot down. I have problems disciplining small children, let alone college students, but why not? I can be tough, right? Finally Dr. Heeyam invites me to her office and asks if I have questions. Later, she says we will see the lab where I will teach and go to my office. Do I have questions. What do I not have questions about? "well," I said, "I guess one thing would be, where can I find the right bus?"
Sunday, September 18, 2011
How to spend my time?
Meine gute Schwester and I were skyping the other day and marveling at our good fortune. I am officially done with all Fulbright orientations, getting acquainted programming stuff, and now, here I am to do… eh? I have yet to start actually teaching, this happens.. in the future in shah allah, and my own Arabic classes don’t start until October 2nd. I have to check in with the Fulbright office as they help me get my residency permit, and for the annual Thanksgiving abroad feast; I have to compose some sort of “midterm progress report” for my language study (anticipated length: one page) and other than that, I have to teach twelve hours a week and am encouraged to get involved in community service. So, basically, last year, I said, I want to live in another country, and the U.S. government said, ok you can do that for free. Here is some money. WHO DOES THAT HAPPEN TO?! and now, I’m having a minor internal crisis, because for the first time, I am not being held accountable. No one is grading me, watching over me, holding my hand or ensuring that I accomplish x,y, z, which I know I can do. I feel I have successfully met the standards of Randy and Sara Compton, Ames High School, Lawrence University, Sierra Service Project, the Appleton YMCA, etc. etc., but now I have to face the toughest judge and the most competitive field: myself. And what if, at the end of 10 months, the Fulbright commission says, thanks ma’salaam, and the Jennifer board says, you didn’t do enough? This is my greatest fear, and why I spent an hour today e-mailing every NGO I could google asking if they wanted another volunteer. What should I do here? How should I make my mark? Who should I talk to? What things should I try to get involved with? And how long should I wait to start jumping in? The director of the commission said to be patient, meet people, let yourself get settled. But I only have ten months! Precious seconds of cultural exchange and global interaction are being wasted! When signing our lease, I asked my landlady how I could meet the other families in our apartment. She smiled and said oh, just wait til you see them in the hall. There goes my plan to make everyone some tasty Midwestern bars and ring their doorbell. Relationships come naturally; jobs and opportunities are found through networking, not stalking internet posts. But what if I’m not good at that? What if my relational skills do not meet my own expectations? Where is the measure? How do I know if I have enough Jordanian friends, if I have logged enough volunteer hours? How do I know if this experience has made a big enough impact on me and in my life? How do I know what difference I can make for others? Personal relations and self fulfillment should really have a rubric.
On that note, if there was a rubric, I would mark the “satisfactory” box for neighbor relations. I have now met two other residents of our apartment building. Today, our elderly neighbor across the hall invited us in for coffee. We met her young grandson, who proudly showed us his English homework, and after a brief exchange of niceties and Nescafe, we were on our way. Next step, casserole/cookie exchange. We also know the family who owns the building and lives on the first floor. They have a very nice young doctor son who offered to help me carry groceries and also happens to be easy on the eyes which really does not hurt my desire to be neighborly.
On that note, if there was a rubric, I would mark the “satisfactory” box for neighbor relations. I have now met two other residents of our apartment building. Today, our elderly neighbor across the hall invited us in for coffee. We met her young grandson, who proudly showed us his English homework, and after a brief exchange of niceties and Nescafe, we were on our way. Next step, casserole/cookie exchange. We also know the family who owns the building and lives on the first floor. They have a very nice young doctor son who offered to help me carry groceries and also happens to be easy on the eyes which really does not hurt my desire to be neighborly.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Pro Jordan
Alahan wa Sahalan! I successfully made it to Amman. No lost luggage this time, no passport issues, visa problems, plane delays or cancellations, it was almost too easy. The direct flight from Chicago to Amman was amazing (hint hint those visiting) be sure to get to O’hare with plenty of time, Jordanians are not very good at handling lines. On the flight, I sat next to a mother and her three young daughters who were moving to Dubai from Georgia. Samelia, my seatmate, informed me that she was going into the third grade and I wondered very much whether I would rather go through third grade in Dubai or Georgia- they might be about as different as I think two cultures can possibly be. Third graders are third graders everywhere I guess- just depends on what kind of cursive you want to learn. My hotel suitemate was on the same plane over, as was another Fulbrighter here to do research. I’ve re-met a lot of the people I met at the orientation in D.C., which is nice, as well as found some new faces and stories. Everyone seems to be in the same nervous-ish state- not really sure what’s going on, but want to and try to make up some sort of plan for their time here. I am certainly among that group. What will my specific assignment be like? When will it start? Who will the people be? What will I do in my spare time? Will I be able to keep busy? When will I start language classes and who will my tutor be? The other day, I had a minor panic attack very early in the morning about all of this (I did a poor job of combating jetlag this trip and have been rising and shining before even God wants glory) so to ease my worries, I journaled a pro only list about Jordan. Certainly there will be cons, but a boy with a max. amount of wisdom once told me that I can very easily make myself sick thinking about con possibilities, so I focused on the positive. Aren’t you so proud? So this is my list, with most recent additions which are actually some of the best things!
Amman pro:
1. Arabic! Signs and things are in Arabic. And as I have been continuously working on my Arabic soul since Morocco, I feel very happy to be back in a country that appreciates and uses the beauty of this language. I may have found a language partner too, I know it’s early but he just happens to own a sweet shop that really likes to give me free samples, so the odds are good that I will keep stopping by to chat. Plus, he loves to tell me about the horror that is the U.S. Israeli support and how important it is that I convert to Islam. So I’m pretty lucky he knows my favorite topics. Tasharefnek! (nice to meet you!)
2. Amman is relatively clean and modern. I do miss Fes and all of Morocco here. You just can’t find windy medina streets and souks that compare and those were so completely unique and wonderful to me. However, there are plusses to being in a place a little more… organized? There are less unfortunate smells, less stray cats and cat calls; there are many more supermarkets, and places with fixed, marked prices. There are street signs!! And liquor stores, and hookah, and overall more things to do; things that Fes didn’t have because it was lovable, lovable Fes, but also whose absence made it a little stifling at times.
3. Food. One word: chickpea. In any form (and trust me there are more than you ever knew) Feed it to me. please. Second word: Kinefa. For anyone who has been to Morocco (esp. Erin Wall) Kinefa is Malawi on crack. It’s a special pastry dough mixed with butter and baked with this special cheese in the middle and then drizzled with a sugary glaze. Basically desert grilled cheese sandwich. This was desert free sample #4 at my language partner’s sweet shop. If Muslim’s go to a heaven where there is Kinefa I might actually have to convert…
4. Hem dul Allah I moved into an apartment! A gorgeous apartment! It was a quick decision but I have never been happier following the advice of another wise man, who told me just before I left that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. That is the voice I listened to when I told my new roommates, “Let’s move in today!” So move in we did. See facebook for pictures. I am officially a resident of the Shmesanni neighborhood in Amman. Home to banks, car dealerships, families, sport city, the Jordan Fulbright commission house, the language school I will be attending, and most importantly, ME!
I have enough couches to host everyone who reads this blog, I promise. Come to Jordan. I will add you to the pro list.
Oh also, I do have to say that the views expressed in this blog in no way represent the views of the U.S. state department.
Amman pro:
1. Arabic! Signs and things are in Arabic. And as I have been continuously working on my Arabic soul since Morocco, I feel very happy to be back in a country that appreciates and uses the beauty of this language. I may have found a language partner too, I know it’s early but he just happens to own a sweet shop that really likes to give me free samples, so the odds are good that I will keep stopping by to chat. Plus, he loves to tell me about the horror that is the U.S. Israeli support and how important it is that I convert to Islam. So I’m pretty lucky he knows my favorite topics. Tasharefnek! (nice to meet you!)
2. Amman is relatively clean and modern. I do miss Fes and all of Morocco here. You just can’t find windy medina streets and souks that compare and those were so completely unique and wonderful to me. However, there are plusses to being in a place a little more… organized? There are less unfortunate smells, less stray cats and cat calls; there are many more supermarkets, and places with fixed, marked prices. There are street signs!! And liquor stores, and hookah, and overall more things to do; things that Fes didn’t have because it was lovable, lovable Fes, but also whose absence made it a little stifling at times.
3. Food. One word: chickpea. In any form (and trust me there are more than you ever knew) Feed it to me. please. Second word: Kinefa. For anyone who has been to Morocco (esp. Erin Wall) Kinefa is Malawi on crack. It’s a special pastry dough mixed with butter and baked with this special cheese in the middle and then drizzled with a sugary glaze. Basically desert grilled cheese sandwich. This was desert free sample #4 at my language partner’s sweet shop. If Muslim’s go to a heaven where there is Kinefa I might actually have to convert…
4. Hem dul Allah I moved into an apartment! A gorgeous apartment! It was a quick decision but I have never been happier following the advice of another wise man, who told me just before I left that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. That is the voice I listened to when I told my new roommates, “Let’s move in today!” So move in we did. See facebook for pictures. I am officially a resident of the Shmesanni neighborhood in Amman. Home to banks, car dealerships, families, sport city, the Jordan Fulbright commission house, the language school I will be attending, and most importantly, ME!
I have enough couches to host everyone who reads this blog, I promise. Come to Jordan. I will add you to the pro list.
Oh also, I do have to say that the views expressed in this blog in no way represent the views of the U.S. state department.
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