Hitting a Wall

There’s been a lot of newsworthy things to comment on from the Middle East lately.

• President Obama’s visit to Saudi Arabia and Egypt, including a historic speech in Cairo that was met with mixed reviews. (But better received in this part of the world than most speeches by US presidents of late.)  In it he called for Palestinians to pursue non-violent means of change.  A call that might otherwise ring hollow from a sitting US president, but from an African-American the weight, significance, and fruit of the US civil-rights era might speak in fresh ways to the international community.
• The elections in Iran and the subsequent non-violent protests of the results; demonstrating that people on the other side of the world have a will to change that is not dependent upon American guns and money.  Newsreporting 2.0 took over as citizens on the ground posted photos and videos online – the only source of info on these winds of change.
• Jimmy Carter’s visit to Gaza.  Traveling “unofficially” he met face-to-face with Hamas leaders to outline the Wests conditions for working with them.  Some might view this as futile, but in this part of the world a personal visit from a white-haired political leader with deep religious convictions speaks volumes more than an official memorandum from 1600 Pennsylvania ave or the threat of force.  Carter has long swum upstream among evangelicals in the States as he unequivocally speaks out against the injustices Israel has committed against their Palestinian neighbors.  At the same time he denounces Palestinian violence.  Carter’s legacy will outlive him.  He has taken the hard and often circuitous route towards making peace.  In his sunset years when most are worried about their medicare benefits, their shuffleboard rankings, or what flavor jello-mold is for lunch Carter is walking where most fear to tread in hopes of making a better place for all of us.

So there’s, been a lot to blog about – but, honestly I have hit a bit of a wall.  Not with blogging; just with life here.  It’s been 9.5 months since we arrived in Amman last year. In some ways I can’t believe how fast it has all flashed by, but on the other hand it seems forever ago that we left from JFK (and even longer from Chicago). It seems we have hit that stage of cross-cultural living that plague many at the 7-12 month stage.

It’s not that life here is particularly hard for us (although we miss many of the conveniences that we once took for granted at home),  but the daily grind of operating in another culture has caught up with us.  Outside of our home (and our circle of ex-pat friends) every interaction and task requires processing and interpreting not only another language but entirely different cultural values as well.  In the few short months we’ve been here I would like to think that we’ve made some pretty big strides towards understanding both language and culture.  However, at the end of the day it is still an intensive and draining process.

On top of it all we just smply miss home – family, friends, familiar sights, sounds and tastes.  Visiting Grandmas and Grandpas, Aunts, Uncles and cousins, trips to the zoo, backyard barbecues, lazy days at the lake, fishing off the dock, garage saleing, walks in Lilacia park, Chicago Style hotdogs and New York style pizza, driving through the Adirondacks, playing with friends at the arboretum, fnding the best deal of the season at Kohl’s, waiting in line for Blizzards at Dairy Queen, bumping into friends at Jewel, summer evening thunderstorms, hanging out at Lunar,  Cruise Nights, getting wet at the splash pad, taking the train into Chicago, visiting friends in Rah-cha-cha, bagels from Einstein’s, hearing the crack of a bat at a ballgame,  ahhh . . . the list goes on and on.

In the end most of it is pretty trivial stuff, the food, places,  and fun are all temporary.  But relationships are enduring and its the people we miss most.  Oh, everyone is an e-mail, FB wall post, or Skype call away but it’s really not the same.

“Everybody” says this is the hardest time in cross-cultural transition and we will push through and come out ok on the other side.  I’m sure that’s true, but in the meantime we seem to be in a bit of a holding pattern as we mentally, emotionally, and physically continue to adjust to our new home.

I’m not sure I have much capacty for thinking/writing about the weightier issues of life here in the Middle East right now, I’m thinking about some lighter summer fare as we push through this cross-cultural wall.  Actually, despite the fact that I seem to be missing so many of the creature comforts of home (can anyone say slow-cooked pork ribs?) I’m planning to do a summer blog-series on street food here in Amman.  As they say to people here when eating, “saHtayn!”  (double health!)

Thinking about retiring “pilgrim without a shrine”

Did I get your attention with that one? =)

When I say retiring, I just mean temporarily. Or perhaps reallocating.

For those who have been reading since the very beginning (those very, very few of you who I can count on one hand) know that since moving to Jordan the blog has gone in a bit of a different direction. I reflect more here now on my life and experiences crossing cultures as a foreigner living in Jordan. I’ve been thinking lately that the whole “pilgrim without a shrine” moniker no longer fits what I usually write about, and could be confusing to some who stumble upon this very humble piece or e-real estate. (Think for instance about the restaurant review for the Bakehouse which draws a lot of hits). I’m not thinking about stopping blogging, but perhaps temporarily retiring this blog and starting another with a more Jordan-oriented title and perhaps more narrowly focused content. I do want to hold onto the “pilgrim without a shrine” title for future use. I love the name of this blog and have some ideas on developing it more strategically, perhaps when i enter a different chapter of my life.

So, what do you think?

Any suggestions on blog names?

What content have you enjoyed seeing here and would like to continue to see? Is there anything that I haven’t been writing about that you would like to hear more on?

Please leave a comment and let me know what you think.

What to do when there’s a Tard at the Post Office

There was a Tard at the Post Office here in Amman this week.  Waiting for me.

No, I’m not using an insensitive 80s junior-highish pejorative – Tard is the Arabic word for package.

As in,”إجاني طَرْد, و نازِل لِآخْذُه” or “‘ijaani Tard, u naazil li’aaxdu”  or “A package has come to me and I’m going down to get it.” (The famous line from our Speaking Arabic Book 2.)

For you pronunciation-hounds please note that the ‘T’ in ‘Tard” is in fact a heavy ‘T’ which means your mouth is held more firm and you need to pharyngealize the sound a bit from the back of your throat.  (No, I’m not making that up.)  If you pronounce it correctly you will sound silly to yourself.  But if you pronounce it like a regular English ‘t’ you will sound silly to everyone else.  Take your pick.

After almost a year living in Amman I still haven’t figured out why some packages get held at the Post Office and some get sent through to the place where we collect our mail.  There doesn’t seems to be any rhyme or reason to it.  We used to think that Priority Mail envelopes would get sent through and anything larger would be held – but that just hasn’t been the case.  Sometimes small things get held and large things get sent through.  I’m sure there’s a reason, but we haven’t been able to figure it out.  In case you’re interested (or new to Amman and want to know) here’s the process for getting a package from the P.O. here in Amman.

Getting A Package Slip

1st we recieve a package slip with our regular mail.  This slip looks very official and alerts us that there is a package waiting for us.  This is always cause for excitement in our household!  One peice of info that I wish was included on the slip was the size or weight of the package – which as you will see could be useful information.  It is very important not to lose this slip – I never have (ok – I misplaced one for a long time – but it wasn’t ever really lost) but can only imagine the headache it would be to try to get the package without it.

Getting to the Post Office

Next we have to find a suitable time and way to get to the Post Office.  The Main Post office is located in the balad (downtown) on Prince Muhammed street.  Or in local parlance – just beyond Hashim’s restaurant near all the DVD shops.  If you get in a taxi and say, “3al-bariid ir-ra’iis fi-lbalad, law samaat” your driver should take you right there.  However, if like me, you often find yourself in Jabal Amman near 3rd Circle or Rainbow Street you can always jump in a service (pronounced ’serveese’). This is a shared taxi and only costs 1/4 dinar as opposed to whatever the taxi fare would be (probably more).

There are a couple of Jabal Amman services but the correct one starts near Akilah Hospital just below 3rd Circle and runs along the top portion of Mango Street, cuts across by Bishop’s School to Rainbow Street and then descends into the balad.  Just ride it down until you get to the end of the line.  You’ll know you’re there because you get to a place where two streets merge and the driver will stop and everyone else will get out while wishing God to give the driver strength in Arabic.  Actually before this happens the driver may back a little down the hill on the street that merges in and then stop.  Don’t panic this is completely normal.

When you get out, head down the hill (to the left compared to the direction you just came from).  This is a steep street with crazy sidewalks – it’s safer to walk in the street.  Welcome to Jordan!  As you go down the hill another street comes in from the left – continue down and to the left on this street.  It will run into Prince Muhammad street and you will see the Post Office ahead of you across this busy thoroughfare (yes, near all the DVD shops).

Getting your Package out of the Post Office

When you go into the main entrance of the Post Office, take an immediate left and go through a set of open glass doors.  You will be in a stairwell – go up to the next level.  Here’s where it get’s interesting.

1. Take your package slip (we’ll call this Paper #1) to the counter.  There are usually 3 or 4 men sitting behind the counter.  Depending on the time of day or how busy it is they may or may not acknowledge your presence.  They will probably never smile at you.  Don’t worry – it’s not personal and they do know you are there.  Hand Paper #1 to one of the men.  It will invariably be the wrong man.  Don’t worry he will tell you which of the other men to hand it to.
2. Counter Man #1 will give you Paper #2 and mumble instructions to you in Arabic.
3. He’s telling you to head back towards the stairs and turn left down the hallway right before them.  Take Paper #2 to the  2nd (or maybe 3rd I can’t remember) door on the right.  The room will be obvious because there are two desks, 3 post office employees, a large rack, and a large set of windows looking into the Package Holding Area.
4. Give Paper #2 to the man at Package Room Desk #1.  He will ask to see your passport. This is very important – no passport, no package.
5. This man will hand paper #2 to a man in the Package Holding Area who will search for your package. This step may take some time.
6. Once you have your package, take it and Paper #2 to Package Room Desk #2.
7. There are usually 2 P.O. employees here.  One will say something to you in Arabic.  He wants you to open the package with the box cutter tied to the desk.
8. Show the contents of the package to these P.O. employees.  They will list out the contents of the package on Paper #3 and stamp it with official looking stamps.
9. You then need to leave your package on the rack and take Paper #3 to the office of semi-important official who will look at it once, ask your name, stamp Paper #3 and tell you to see the  director.
10. The director will give Paper #3 a once over and diret you to go back to the counter.  Counter Man #2 will look at Paper #3, give you Paper #4 and tell you to take them both to Counter Man #1.
11. Counter Man #1 will look it all over, do some calculations, and ask you to pay a nominal amount for your package.
12. Counter Man #1 will stamp Paper #4 and tell you to return to the room where you left your Package.
13. Show Paper #3 and #4 to the man sitting at Package Room Desk #1
14. He’ll keep paper #3 and give you Paper #4 (basically a receipt) and will allow you to take the package with you.

This is, of course, the part where knowing the size and weight of the package beforehand would come in handy as you now have to figure out how you will carry the open box with all of its goodies through the balad and find a taxi/service/bus to take you home.  I like all the goodies in big packages, but love small packages that I can put in my backpack – it makes the long  hot wait/walk in the balad so much easier.

The whole process could take 10 or 15 minutes or the better part of an hour depending on a number of variables (how busy they are, how hot it is that day, how grumpy or happy the PO workers are, how much strange stuff your family has sent you that needs to be explained to the guys inspecting the package, etc.). BTW – generally you can’t pick up packages after 2 pm- so plan accordingly!

If you have time and the package isn’t so big you should stop by Hashims for some falafil and hummus!

So in summary, to get your package you will need to exchange at least 4 different papers, speak to 6 or 7 different men and get 3 or 4 diffrent stamps on the paperwork!  The first time anyone does this it’s pretty confusing, but don’t worry it gets better with time – oh and they will definitely tell you where to go if you seem lost. (I mean that in the best possible way!)

Yeah it’s a bit of a rigamarole (I don’t think I have ever typed that word before), but it is well worth it  to recieve a box of goodies from home.  (This is true for all cultures I think – I saw a guy who I took to be Pakistani or Indian in line in front of me opening (for the PO employees) a package full of crackers and dried noodles.  The guy going through the stuff gave him a quizzical look and the Indian and or Pakistani man picked up a package of crackers and said, ‘you can’t get these here!”  I smiled – and was tempted to ask him if I could try one – but did not.)

I guess I’ve characterized the postal workers here as kinda grumpy.  Which is kinda true.  (Oh – there is one guy at the counter who sometimes smiles – must be the new guy).  But I’m usually there around quitting time which probably doesn’t help matters.  It has to be a fairly thankless job.  I’ve seen a fair amount of impatient, argumentative, and ungrateful package recievers too.  As in all cross-cultural situations it pays for foreigners to be friendly (but not too friendly ladies – in other words don’t smile or make too much eye contact) and use some Arabic.

This last time I exchanged greetings with the package inspector and we had the following conversation after the greetings and while he was looking through my box (I in Arabic, he in English):

Him:  Mr. Brian?

Me: Yes?

Him: Are you British?

Me: No, I’m American,

Him:  Really?

Me:  Certainly.

Him: Because Brian is a British name.

Me:  Actually it’s Irish.

Him:  Really?

Me: Yes, a long time ago there was a King of Ireland and his name was Brian.

Him (laughing):  Ok, Mr. Malik!  (Mr.  King) Or like Bryan Adams, right.

Me (laughing): Sure, why not?

Him:  Ok, Mr. Malik, take this paper to the mudiir (director).

Me:  Thank-you.  Peace on Your hands.

Him (now in Arabic): And also on yours.  God give you peace.

Me:  And May God strengthen you.

Him: And may he strengthen you as well.

Just another day picking up a Tard at the Post Office in Jordan.

Buying a Phone Charger

I used to think there were three price-levels in Jordan:

• The price for tourists and wealthy foreigners
• The price for foreigners who can bargain
• The local price.

One of my best purchasing moments came when I figured out how to bypass all the super nice phones that shopkeepers like to sell foreigners and by a 15JD no-frills model that suits me just fine and gets a nod of approval when I tell any local how much I paid for it.  Its as if they are taking note, “here is a foreigner who has his wits about him, it’s going to be hard to take advantage of him!”  (I wish!)

However, now I realize now that the prices here aren’t strictly: dumb  foreigner, smart foreigner, & local.  Here’s a story to illustrate my point.

Buying a phone charger

After graduation we were riding back to our apartment with our regular taxi driver.  He takes us to school every morning and runs us around on special errands when needed.  He’s a family man who has been driving taxi in Amman for almost 20 years.  We pay him well, but he treats us very well and trust him 100%.  He’s been a good source of Arabic practice (99% of our interaction is in Arabic), cultural insight and practical help in the last 9 months.  He’s kinda like an uncle to us and we really appreciate him.

Anyways, my wife reminded me that we needed a new charger for our cell phones, so I asked our friend if he knew of a place to buy one between where we were and our home.

“Brahim, of course!  I know a place in WaHidat.”

(He always calls me Brahim – short for Ibrahim.  And WaHidat is the Palestinian refugee camp near our neighborhood.

Me: “You are fine taking us there?”

Him: “Of course, but you should have told me before.  I have 5 chargers in my house.”

Me: “Thanks.  You are very good, but it doesn’t matter, we can buy one in WaHidat.  It will just take a minute.”

Him: “No Brahim, you are very good.  It is no problem.  You are welcome here.”

As we drove on we had a good laugh.  The word for charger is “shaHin” but I kept saying “SaHin” which means plate.

When we got to waHidat our taxi friend said, “Ok, please give me your phone.  Because you are a foreigner they will give you a bad price.”

I handed him the phone and 10 JD.  If I was in West Amman I might expect to pay 8 or 9 JD, but here I figured it would cost 4 or 5 JD.  I asked if I could go with him and he said , “Of course, but Brahim please do not speak.”  LOL – there’s a good commentary on my level of Arabic!

As with many things for sale here in Amman there were a number of phone shops clustered together on one corner.  We went to the first one and our taxi friend asked about a charger.  He obviously entered into negotiations with the shopkeeper on the price.  It ended with the Arabic sign for “no” on the part of my friend.  This is a tilt up of the chin with a cluck of the tongue.  Yeah it sounds and looks rude to Americans but here it’s the equivalent to shaking your head side-to-side.

I asked how much the shopkeeper wanted, “2.5 JD – expensive!”  I laughed because I thought he was joking.  He wasn’t.

We went to 4 more shops but none of them had the charger we needed. In the fifth shop sat a man in traditional garb with a long beard and muslim hat.  There were no negotiations here, just a straightforward asking for a charger, examining of the phone and exchange of goods and money.  As he handed back my phone, change, and new charger I asked how much it was.

“1.5 JD.  That’s a normal price.”

We both laughed.

In the last 9 months I had thought I had made a lot of progress away from getting ripped off as a foreigner.  In some places (like Carrefour and Cozmo) the prices are fixed and there’s no bargaining.  But on a lot of other things here there seems to be plenty of room to negotiate.  Upon further reflection on stories like this one, I’ve revised my theoretical price-levels to the following:

• The price for tourists and wealthy foreigners
• The price for foreigners who speak Arabic
• The price for foreigners who can haggle
• The price for wealthy locals (may be equal or more than the one above)
• The price for working class locals

That being said it’s difficult to make hard and fast rules on this.  Some things have negotiable prices (furniture, housewares, appliances, electronics, apparently cell phone chargers), but other things (like food, medicine, water) don’t.  Some shopkeepers seem to negotiate, others not so much.  If you know a shopkeeper well, you are better off assuming he is giving you his best price rather than insult him by negotiating.

After the purchase of the cell-phone charger it made me think – am I getting ripped off by paying 4 JD for something my local working class friend can get for 1.5 JD?  Or is he getting a well-deserved break on the price?  Should my goal as a comparatively wealthy (for Jordan, not by US standards) foreigner be to get the cheapest local price all the time, or is it valid for me to pay a little more because my wallet can bear it and the shopkeeper needs it more than I do?  Are foreginers who haggle seen as culturally saavy or cheapskates?  Let me know what you think!